As the double doors slid open almost deliberately slow, Lieutenant Mnhei’sahe Dox felt her stomach tighten into a knot. Her arms still shackled painfully behind her back, the two Romulan Centurions at her side led her through the doors into the surprisingly large chamber. Her grandmother, the distinguished Rihannsu Senator, Verelan t’Rul led the way as they entered.

The room was a large, octagon-shaped chamber with consoles along the walls that almost resembled an older starship bridge from Rita Paris’ era for all the equipment present and the big chair in the center. Monitoring stations, however, all appeared automated with a single command console to the side of the large durasteel chair that was part of the structure of the room. Above and behind the chair was a series of cables and equipment that lowered from the center of the ceiling. Standing at the console was the SubCommander, Arrenhe t’Suil and to the other side of the chair, with a look of smug satisfaction, was Riov Dalia Rendal.

This was the room where her Grandmother had been taken. Where her mind was re-written and she became the Riov’s puppet. And while the technique seemed less than complete, as her grandmother seemed to still be fighting the control, controlled she was. And it was likely the fate that awaited Dox herself.

The embattled Starfleet officer had done everything that she could to stall, to prevent being in this room, as had her mother. She had exhausted everything she could think of to talk them out of what they were planning, but it had only seemed to serve to delay what might have always been inevitable. But the red-headed Rinahhsu woman in the shackles wasn’t out of hope just yet.

“Rendal…” She said in a Raspy voice, speaking their native tongue. “You don’t have to do this. There are better ways to defend the Star Empire than protomatter weapons. You’re opening a door to something you don’t understand.”

"Then help me understand. Get in the chair or talk to me." Rendal glared at her with that same dispassionate jade faced glare for a couple seconds before motioning for the centurions to strap her into the chair. "We do this the hard way."

"I've been trying to make you understand. My mother tried to make you understand. The things I know about... these weapons... these beings that have been in my head. They shouldn't be played with. It's dangerous on a level you aren't understanding. Gaia almost destroyed and remade half the system and she was on a direct path to ch'Rihan, Rendal. And we didn't stop her with a superweapon. We talked to her and convinced her to stop." Dox pleaded as the Centurions unlocked her shackles and forced her into the cold, metal chair where all new restraints waited for her. Already bruised from days being locked in metal shackles, Dox winced as they tightened the straps around her ankles, wrist, and head. 

"Yes, I visited a couple of those planets. Highly advanced now. One of them has a bronze age civilization of arachnids at war with twelve-meter tall lizards. Another, a form of intelligent mushrooms has... Sprouted up... And they've advanced to the point they've discovered electricity... But not fire." As the Royal Riov punched in a set of commands into a nearby console, she continued rambling. "All quite fascinating, I assure you. I also assure you that even if it's a fraction of that power, I want it. To be able to terraform a world rather than destabilize an entire system with Sunseed? Yes, that's a tradeoff I'm willing to take."

While Rendal spoke, t'Suil walked over and pulled the cables down and began fixing the leads to several points on Dox's head and neck. Before too long, there were easily a dozen leads stuck to various points along her forehead, temples and the back of her neck while her head remained lashed in place. 

"And the worlds that had civilizations on them already? Ch'Rihan and ch'Havran would have been two of them, erased and restarted with nothing left of our people, their history, culture or lives. That can't be what you want, Rendal? That kind of blood on your hands... on the hands of every Rihannsu... will never wash away!"

As Dox spoke, t'Suil simply walked back to her command console and looked over the readings with a nod. "My Riov... leads in place. The signal strength is quite strong. We may begin at your leisure. Shall we be probing for information or creating a loyalty patch... or both?"

Rendal flat out ignored Dox's arguments this time, determined not to get riled up this time. "Let's begin slowly. A loyalty patch should be a good start. That way she'll be more inclined to our way of thinking."

Taking a breath, Dox turned her eyes to her grandmother, Deihu Verelan t'Rul. This was what they did to her to make her the puppet she now was who simply had to stand there and watch. Her words and actions were no longer her own, but her mind seemed to be intact just below the surface, struggling. But given more time and more treatments, even that would eventually be Rendal's. As would be, Dox feared, her own.

While her grandmother stood impressively beside her, the eyes were anything but. In them, Mnhei'sahe Dox could see the woman fighting, struggling for control. At one point her hand lifted slight, reaching toward her as t'Suil was placing the leads, but it had been brushed aside by the woman busily making the connections. Now she stood, still as marble, face a mask of noble composure But her eyes pleaded and darted about the room, clear evidence that while her actions were controlled, her mind was not yet gone. Below the surface, she still knew what was happening here- what was going to happen here. Precisely what had been done to her, and she struggled with every considerable ounce of willpower the senator from ch'rRhan possessed.

To no avail, save to add despair to her granddaughter's fate.

"Ie, Riov. Commencing neural pattern overlay patch." t'Suil said with a disturbing calm, as if she were doing nothing more elaborate than entering helm coordinates and not preparing to rewrite the mind of a sentient being. A fellow Rihannsu woman.

And in that instant, Mnhei'sahe realized that she was out of time.

There was going to be no last-second rescue. Rita and Enalia weren't going to appear, phasers at the ready to save the day. Her grandmother could do nothing but watch. Her mother was locked in a cell across the deck. And her words had failed. She had once successfully talked a TITAN out of terraforming a quadrant, but that was with the minds of her friends buttressing her own. Here, she was alone and everything she could think to say wasn't enough to change Rendal's mind.

So, she did the only thing left she could do. She closed her eyes, took a breath, slowly let it out and trusted in the only thing she had left: her own mind. For over seven months, she had been engaged in intensive mental training with the Kolinahr master, Lieutenant Sonak. He had taught her how to discipline her own mind to protect it from psychic attack to the best of his more than considerable abilities. She had successfully learned to force even HIS powerful mind out of her own with near-impossible effort. All she had now was to trust that she wouldn't fail his training. That she could keep Rendal's machine from destroying her mind.

So she concentrated, forcing out the room, and the cold chair, and the painful straps, and the voices of Rendal and t'Suil as they cavalierly discussed re-writing her mind to make her loyal to them. She was no longer on the Warbird nearing ch'Rihan. She was no longer strapped to that chair. She was no longer bruised or exhausted. She was whole and herself as she breathed, feeling her breath pulled from her by the arid heat of Vulcan. The Vulcan of her mind, imparted there by Sonak's training. Reinforced by her own discipline.

Looking up, she was unshackled and standing tall at the base of the legendary Mount Selaya. Gone was the grayish-green prisoner's garb she wore in the chair, replaced by her command crimson uniform and proud Starfleet Delta. The air was hot and dry and she could feel it pressing down around her, trying to sap her strength as she took in the seemingly endless expanse of red, stone steps before her.

In the real world, Rendal had given the order, and t'Suil begun, entering the first program into the Neural Extraction Converter. And in the Vulcan of her mind, the effect was immediate. There was a tremendous, booming sound across the imagined landscape as the rocks shuddered and Dox found herself slammed to her knees. It was as if the air itself had become a living thing, pressing down all around her with a weight that threatened to crush her as she let out a scream that extended beyond her mind to the reality beyond.

The Senator twitched as the scream echoed forth, and unbidden she moved to stand beside the two at the control panel. Partially to distance herself from the screams, but partly because they were not paying any attention to her, and not ordering her now. The puppet's strings were not being pulled by the distracted puppeteers. She might only have one moment to act, but if she was careful, that one moment could make all the difference. So she relocated herself, and with no objections launched, she waited for that moment to arrive.

Within her mind, Dox remembered Sonak's lessons. You don't fight the forces acting upon you, you adapt to them. You adjust yourself to breathe easier and let the pressure pass through you. Taking in another shallow breath, Dox felt the waves of pressure upon her begin to flow over her as she slowly worked her way to her feet. In her mind, she remembered Sonak's deep, calming voice instructing her to climb.

It felt as if it had taken an eternity, but she had slowly returned to her feet and opened her eyes. The dry air of her mind had become a mighty wind and she felt the harsh sands biting her face as she looked through squinted eyes towards that first step. And after a long moment, she took it. It was so much like her first time doing this months ago, with Sonak forcing down the power of his own mind onto hers through his mind-meld, but stronger. More aggressive. And without the option to try again if she failed.

Back in the reality of the chamber, Dox twitched in the chair as the Rihannsu women looked on. From her console, t'Suil looked confused for a moment. "Riov... the readings I'm getting. Our data patches are being reflected back. The leads are all registering and the sensors are saying that the connection is strong, but we aren't getting any neural synchronization."

That report finally got a rise out of Riov Dalia Rendal, her eyes going wide as she read the screens herself. “What? That’s impossible. Lock in the secondaries. There’s no conceivable way she can resist.”

While externally she showed not the slightest hint of a reaction, internally Verelan cheered. Fight them, Mnhei'sahe. Whatever it is in there you have that they want, use it and fight them. Don't let them do to them what they have done to me... you can do this granddaughter. I believe in you, so fight!

In the real world, the power flow of the machine had been intensified. Thus the effect was palpable in the reality of Dox's mind, as she found herself slammed back to her knees on the lower steps of her ascent. As she hit that hot stone, she let out another sharp cry of pain. In the real world, the muscles in her legs could be seen tensing involuntarily as she cried out again.

But on the steps of Mount Salaya, Dox redoubled her effort. She had to. If she stopped, her mind would be overwhelmed by the machine. By Rendal. She would become something else. SomeONE else. Something horrible and broken.

"NO!" She cried. "I... will not let you make me forget... who... I am."

In the chamber, she simply began muttering incoherently, as one trying to speak through a dream. But inside her own mind, she rose back to her feet on legs that felt like jelly. "I am the wife... of Mona Gonadie... a mother to our children to come!" And she took a step.

"I... am the bond-sister of Rita Paris... and Asa Dael!" And she took another step.

"I am the friend and Baroness to Enalia Telvan... Captain.. and queen of the Artan empire!" And she stepped up further, her skinned knees wobbling and stained green from her fall.

"I am Orensu… student to Sonak of Vulcan! Kolinahr and Master of Gol!"

“I was loved by Shawn and Juliet Dox… The family for whom I carry this name with honor!”

“And I am the daughter of Jaeih Dox and Dralath t’Rul!”

"I am... NOT YOURS!!! I am... my own woman…”

“My name is Mnhei’sahe t'Sendatu-onay Dox! Daughter of ch’Rihan and the house Rul and you WILL NOT HAVE ME!!!" Dox shouted against the blistering wind in her face as she climbed the steps, feeling the weight of a thousand hands pressing against her.

In the chamber, a red blinking warning light went off on t'Suil's console. "Riov! Vitals are beginning to spike. Neural activity is off the charts. I have never... she is resisting the converter. I have only ever seen this level of resistance in Vulcans, and even then, not like this."

The Riov pulled up her own set of neural readings and stared at them for a long moment as her eyes went even wider. “There’s got to be something inside of her, driving her on. Not even our best agents are trained this well. Turn the system up as far…” Even as she spoke, she realized that the system was already at maximum and there was nothing more they could give it but more power, which would fry both the brain hooked to it and the device itself.

In the Vulcan of her mind, the steps seemed to stretch above her forever. But Dox kept pressing forward, looking up into the swirling red sands that obscured the summit. Then she saw it. At the top, she saw the sands begin to lessen, and a light appeared to hover before her, beckoning. It was a pulsing lavender glow she knew as well as she knew anything in her universe. It was the light of her bond with Mona. The combined energy of their joined souls that had wrapped itself around her heart permanently since their bonding ceremony, what now felt like an eternity ago.

On legs that threatened to collapse with each step, she wobbled to the flat stone platform at the top where she stood before the essence of her love given form and slowly reached for it. As she did, the throbbing energy began to take shape. The shape of her Miradonian love, reaching back towards her.

But back in the cold chamber, t'Suil called over to her mistress. "Riov... I... something's happening. Vitals are stabilizing. Neural levels are... the sensor leads are overloading, but there's... something else."

“What is this? What am I looking at?” Rendal mused as she watched the brainwave activity return to normal, then mingle with another, faint signal. “It’s…” Then she realized, slowly pulling the wedding bracelet out of her pocket with a look of disgust. “She formed a bond with that Miradonian. But that’s impossible! Rihannsu aren’t compatible!”

For a moment, she raised the bracelet over her head and made to throw it down on the ground, but then thought better of it, slowly bringing it back down in front of her, her hand shaking in rage. “We should have captured and deep-fried that bird…”

Atop Mount Salaya, Dox stood before the glowing Lavender form of Mona. The piece of her soul forever bonded to Mnhei'sahe's that lived within her, reaching a pulsing hand of light across the platform. Barely able to stand, Mnhei'sahe reached back towards the hand, shaking as she did. In the chair, her body had begun shuddering in place. And in that last second, Mnhei'sahe leaned forward, falling into the arms of Mona's light. "I... love you."

And in a burst of lavender warmth, Mount Salaya was eclipsed by a cascading wave of energy bursting forth to fill her mind. But in the chamber, something else was happening.

Without warning, the sensors went almost blank on the consoles in the chamber. And as they did, Dox's body went still and she flumped limply in the seat, seemingly unconscious as the Subcommander looked at the readings from her console. “Riov. Bio-scans say she’s unconscious. Neurological activity is all but flat, but… we’re receiving some kind of... data from the feed.

Without warning, Dox’s eyes went wide. Instead of her normal eyes though, they were inky black, as if they led into an endless abyss. When she spoke, it was the voice of a million shadows across the depths, calling from the other side of that inky abyss.

“You who have called to me. You seek my knowledge. If you dare to follow. I am here.” For a moment, all the screens in the room lit up with calculations and math that barely made sense to the women in the room before going dark again and Dox slumped back once more, unconscious.

Meanwhile, in the landscape of Dox’s mind, the darkness faded back to light and the young officer was again as she was, at the top of the Mount Seleya. Still in the crimson uniform she wore with pride. Still herself. She no longer felt the pressure or the energy of the Ju’rot against her, just the hot winds of a world she had never stood upon. Yet another world that was a part of her heritage that she had never truly seen. But she was there again. But Mona’s energy form wasn’t. Instead, a strange figure appeared and smiled at her wearing a white bunny dancer costume.

She was obviously Rihannsu from her ears and light olive tint, but she had the smooth, pale skin of some humans. It also seemed like her bunny ears were a part of her.

“Good evening. I should introduce myself. I’m the White Rabbit.” She then pulled a comically sized pocket watch from out of seemingly nowhere and pointed to one of fourteen hands on it. “And you seem to have broken the time inside of you.”

Exhausted and confused, Dox looked around for a moment across the vista in her mind. At the red, craggy peaks and the pale yellow sky. And then at the strange woman in front of her. The young Rihannsu pilot shook her head for a moment. “What… you’re not Rendal? I mean… you aren’t something from the machine being put in my head… that pressure isn’t… it’s gone. Who… what are you? What do you mean?”

“I’m a friend of Death. You call her… Rei?” The rabbit woman paused a moment to muse on the subject for a moment as she put the watch away. “Anyway, you overcame the machine in your way. Congrats. As the White Rabbit, I control the space-time continuum. To me, the Q are just an aforementioned referendum. As a friend, I’m here to set things aright before that spark of Gaia’s touch in you sets you alight.” Here she paused a moment, hoping that what she was saying was sinking in or at least making sense. She didn’t always, so she might have to start over.

“Tlhei Nouhha…” Dox muttered to herself, the Rihan equivalent of 'oh my god', in a moment of disbelief. “Spark of… Gaia? Sh… She was right. My mother was right. She was trying to scare Rendal, but she was right. You’re saying that she… Gaia... left something inside of me?”

The White Rabbit nodded happily. She’d gotten her point across. “Just a… business card? Hailing frequency?” She looked thoughtful for a moment, trying to figure out how to put it in terms that would be understood. “A Rosetta stone triggered by your focusing far beyond your pain. Now they have the key to a door and you need to find your sanity again.” With that, she held out her hand and motioned that they should be off.

Stumbling, Dox was stunned for a moment as she processed everything. She had succeeded in overcoming the Converter, but somehow still failed to protect what was in her mind. What she didn’t even know was in her mind. Worse, if she understood the Rabbit's twisting words, it was her resistance to the converter that somehow activated Gaia's 'business card'. But she forced that doubt to the back of her mind to try and focus on the White Rabbit’s more pressing words. “My sanity? Is this the… broken time you mentioned?” Slowly and hesitantly… she reached forward. Her every instinct told her this wasn’t some trick by Rendal, and she chose to trust in those feelings as she gave the Rabbit her hand.

In that moment, time seemed to stop and they caught a glimpse of the White Rabbit helping others in other time-spaces. One of them being Enalia in her current uniform. Another was Schwein in an Asgardian dress. One was Asa but clearly in a far-flung future.

As quickly as the moment came, it had passed, and they were standing in some sort of carnival with rides that seemed to defy the laws of known physics. The teacups ride seemed to spin in and out of itself. The Ferris wheel was kaleidoscopic. Other rides were almost indescribable. But they were there to visit a trinket vendor that looked like a red and black-furred cat-woman, complete with collar with a gold tag.

She was selling small silver and gold bells and metal bits from a wooden red and black gypsy cart and though it looked like she’d sold a fair number, she looked depressed and like something was weighing heavily on her. The White Rabbit simply motioned for Dox to approach the cart.

The red-haired Rihannsu woman was taken aback by the experience. She had seen the flowing time. She had seen Enalia and Schwein and Asa. She had seen a blur of other faces in between that she couldn’t place but somehow knew. And she was still more than a little disoriented, almost overwhelmed by the cacophony of lights from the carnival that she suspected wasn’t exactly a real place. But she had come this far, and slowly stepped forward towards the sad-looking woman in the cart. “Hello? Are… are you alright?”

The cat-woman looked up in surprise at the unexpected compassion. Apparently, in this surrealistic world it wasn’t a common practice. “Oh… I… Yes, I’m well enough. I’m just worried about my mother, is all. You’re… Not from around here, are you?”

Glancing over to the White Rabbit for a moment with a slightly more focused expression, Dox turned back to the woman in the cart. For a moment, her mind fell to her own mother, locked in the cell on the Warbird and then to her grandmother in the room with her back in reality, suffering under Rendal’s control. But she brought her focus back to the moment she found herself in and shook off her own distracted thoughts. “I’m sorry, I’m worried about my mother too. But what about yours? What happened?”

Rubbing an ear, Dox interjected quickly as she spoke, trying to keep a positive tone for the unusual but clearly troubled woman. “Oh… and no, I’m not from around here. My name is Mnhei’sahe. What’s yours?”

“Sytemma.” The dark-eyed cat woman looked a bit sheepish as she brushed one of her locks of hair behind one of her ears. “My mom got caught up in a passing Emordnilap’s eating frenzy and now her heart-core needs a donor, but… Finding one… In our world, getting someone to donate that kind of energy is just… Impossible…”

“So I take it you’re not made of energy? You’re… Matter?” Sytemma almost whispered the word as she leaned in almost conspiratorially.

There was something almost child-like to the woman’s mannerisms that actually gave Mnhei’sahe the slightest of smiles in a moment that desperately needed them. She leaned in to reply. “I suppose. Well, more often than not, at least. Unless I’m beaming somewhere..." Then Mnhei'sahe glanced down at the crimson Starfleet uniform she knew was a construct of her mind and chuckled slightly, "...but I don’t think that’s quite the same thing. So, yes. I’m matter. Usually.”

“That is so… The closest thing to matter here is this carnival and only because the owner found some transmission from some… Milky Galaxy? Or Ja-Pong? I forget…” Sytemma waved it off with one hand as she stared at her newfound friend, wide-eyed.

“The Milky way? I’m from there. It’s a very big place. Lot’s of matter, too.” Then Mnhei’sahe stood back up and looked around again. The swirling lights were disorienting so she looked back to the black and red furred woman. She had no idea what she was doing, but was simply following her instincts and hoping she could help. “What… what kind of energy are you talking about? Maybe my friend and I can help you find some?”

“It’s her heart-core. Like this.” She reached into her chest and pulled back her fur to reveal not blood and meat inside of her, but a network of blue, glowing energy vines flowing from a crystallized energy block of red and purple.

Now showing her very heart and soul to someone she had literally just met, Sytemma spoke reverently as she sealed her chest back up. “Hers needs a similar type to mine, but I’m incompatible. Her energy is one of the rarest types and not only can she not regenerate it… No one in our society donates it because it can’t be regenerated at all. I would need a sliver of a god or creation itself to save her…”

As Sytemma spoke, Mnhei’sahe began to understand. The blue energy. The red and purple crystal. The sliver. All things she had, but something would have to be given up to help the woman. As she thought, Mnhei’sahe simply smiled at Sytemma, “That… that was beautiful. Thank you for showing me. Excuse me just a moment.”

Then, the exhausted pilot stepped back just a bit and turned to the White Rabbit. “You said that Gaia’s spark was going to… set me alight? But I’ve had it for months. I didn’t even know it was there. And… if they got some kind of key from it… what do I still have? If I give it up, we might not be able to stop Rendal, will we?”

“You have the knowledge now and that future is not yet written. What you do with that key inside you may help this kitten. What you do when you return is still up to your friends. No one is yet guaranteed to meet their ends.” As usual, the White Rabbit wasn’t the most clear while talking, but she hoped that at least her point came across.

Smirking slightly, Dox rolled her eyes a bit. “Rei gives me much clearer answers. But… I think I understand.”

Leaning back over, the young pilot looked at all of the shiny bells for a moment while she collected her thoughts. The shard inside her might destroy her, but it also might be needed to stop Rendal. But regardless, it was certainly needed here, wherever here was. “In her mind, she realized this was some kind of test and she didn’t quite know what to do. At least in her mind.

Her heart, however, was a different matter. “Sytemma… can you take me to your mother?”

“If you’re matter, then no, I don’t think I can. The medcenter she’s in filters out contaminants like space debris and, no offense…” Sytemma tucked her stray hair behind her ear again, only for her ear to twitch and the same hair to escape once more. “If you know where or how I could get some energy like that, I think…”

She then popped down into her gypsy wagon and rummaged around for a moment before popping up with an empty-looking heart crystal, which she held tenderly in her hands. “This was my grandmother’s core. She had the same energy.”

“Your… grandmother.” Mnhei’sahe looked down, the symbolism as clear to her as the crystal heart in front of her. She didn’t understand how this was supposed to save her sanity or do anything, but she wasn’t thinking about anything but what she could do in the here and now. For weeks, her world had been little more than pain and failure. But inside all of that, also hope. Hope that she could save her mother from the fate prescribed her by Death and Kodria. Hope that she could have the family she had always longed for with, as unlikely as it felt, the grandmother she couldn’t help but care about now. And hope that she would be reunited with her one, true love. With Mona. That hope kept her going. And hope was what was needed here.

She thought of that brilliant purple light that lived inside her. The fusion of her own red life force and Mona’s own blue energy that was a part of her soul, and there was really no choice. Slowly and gently, she cupped her hands over Sytemma’s… the crystal heart between them and slowly closed her eyes and focused again on that internal glow within her. “Whatever I can give to help… is yours.”

With those words and that intent, something flowed out of the Rihannsu woman and into the old core, lighting it from within with both a tiny golden light and a swirling lavender and red mist. Sytemma’s eyes widened and tears sprang forth unbidden as she saw what had been given to her. She tried to speak, but though she tried, no words came out.

Eventually, she found her words as she placed her grandmother’s core in what appeared to be a black wooden box behind the counter. “Thank you. I owe you everything. If there is anything I can do for you, please… Just name it.”

Stepping back, Mnhei’sahe felt slightly light-headed for a moment, but the sensation passed quickly as she looked at Sytemma’s beaming face. She closed her eyes for a second, and within her she could still feel the swirling purple light that was always there. It was dimmer than before, a piece of it in the crystal now, but with each passing moment, it seemed to slowly grow more intense. Self-regenerating. “There we are, Jhu Dhael.” She whispered to herself, smiling as she said the Rihannsu name for her love that meant ‘Angel Bird’.

Collecting herself, She smiled at the young woman in the bizarre cart. “You don’t have to do anything. I’m glad I could help.” Then she tapped the Delta still on her chest from the uniform she wore in her mindscape, still in place wherever she was now. “That’s what this means. Even if I forget that sometimes, myself."

“Will you at least take a memento of my appreciation with you then?” Sytemma asked, holding out one of the little cat-shaped golden bells. “I craft these from pieces of myself.”

Nodding, Dox smiled broadly and gave a little chuckle. “That, I will take with honor, and I will treasure it, Sytemma. Thank you.”

As soon as Sytemma laid the small bell into Dox’s hand, it seemed to melt into her palm as the world once more shifted around her, the White Rabbit at her side, one hand on her shoulder. “Back to your time and body again. It’s been a pleasure!”

“Wait? What… what happened? Where did the bell go? I don’t… I don’t under...” Dox was confused and disoriented by the sudden shifting reality as she once again felt the bruises on her neck, wrists, and ankles return and her head go slightly light.

Back once more in the Ju’rot device room, Rendal looked between Dox, Verelan and t’Suil before glancing around at the now overloaded electronics of the room. “Take her back to her cell. We’re done. I… No, We’re done.”

It took a moment for Mnhei’sahe to roll her eyes back and wake fully up. The memory of what had just happened, even if she didn’t understand, was still fresh enough for her to recall the White Rabbit’s words. Although it was all beginning to feel like a particularly vivid dream. Which meant she knew that regardless of her efforts, or perhaps because of them, Rendal had gotten some kind of information… a key… from the spark of Gaia that had been left behind in her. That spark that was now gone, fueling Sytemma’s mother’s heart somewhere and somewhen else.

But the consoles looked damaged, so there was a hope that whatever information pulled from her mind might be damaged or incomplete. At least that was a possibility she clung to in that moment as reality had fully set in again as she muttered weakly to Rendal. “W… well. Will you look at that. No loyalty… I still hate you.”

“And I loathe you… You and your…” Rendal held up the bracelet once more. “Infuriating bond with that bird-woman.” She then tossed the marriage bracelet into Dox’s lap, seemingly fed up with it. “Hurry up and get her out of my sight.”

Subcommaner t’Suil snapped her fingers and gestured to the two guards flanking Verelan. “You heard the Riov. NOW, Centurions. Rushing over, they released the restraint straps, shoving Dox forward and pulling her arms back behind her back to replace the metal shackles she had been brought in with. As they did, the bracelet slipped off of her lap and rolled across the floor towards the feet of Mnhei’sahe’s grandmother. As it did, Dox let out a shout of pain that covered up the sound of the pearlescent black metal hitting the floor as Rendal and t'Suil were busy looking at the shorted out consoles.

Then, yanking her back to her feet, the Centurions shoved her forward as Dox resisted saying anything further to infuriate Rendal as she was let out of the chamber by the armed guards.

Bending over, unnoticed, Verelan picked up the bracelet, then slipped it onto her wrist, sliding it up her slender arm as an armband, to keep it hidden. She knew the inherent value of it to her granddaughter, and while she might have not been able to affect this situation, her moment would still come, she was certain of it. Mnhei'sahe was strong, and she had survived their worst... and if the data was incomplete, they would still need her alive. The Tal Shiar would likely want her alive anyway for further testing or dissection, given what had been shown today. So now she had at least guaranteed her own survival to ch'Rihan, if not that of her mother.

For now, the helplessly puppeteered Veleran t'Rul would bide her time and wait for the moment that would come where she could make a difference- ironically, the very thing she had worked so hard to convince her granddaughter of, now became her very mantra.

Riov Dalia Rendal was still staring at the monitors of her console in the chamber of the Romulan Warbird that contained the massive, Neural Extraction Converter machine known as the Ju'rot device. The machine that had successfully reprogrammed the minds and loyalty of thousands of Rihannsu people to ensure the strength and unity of the Star Empire had just done what it had never done before: it failed.

Somehow... inexplicably... the young Starfleet Lieutenant, Mnhei'sahe Dox had been subjected to the Converter's full power and resisted its effects. On her way back to the brig, her mind was still her own. There were mystery factors that had revealed themselves throughout the procedure, of course. The presence of the second set of neural pathways belonging to the young redheads bond-mate, Mona Gonadie, surfaced at the end of the procedure to buttress Dox's strength. But for the length of the procedure, the young woman exhibited a level of resistance that they had only seen in the most disciplined of Vulcans. 

But at the end, something else happened. Something was awoken in the young Rihannsu woman that nobody was prepared for. An otherworldly voice sprang from her lips hinting at some sort of map to its secrets and the system computers began collecting massive stores of still incomprehensible data. But those systems had been overloaded trying to break Dox and Rendal had no idea how much of the mystery data had been retained. 

From the far side of the room, Rendal's subcommander, Arrenhe t'Suil, had a computer console disassembled and was rifling through the wiring. "Riov... the overload seems to have burnt out some... fifteen percent of the Ju'rot's data leads. But so far, the data storage itself appears intact. We may still have... whatever it is that was transmitted to our computers. But the initial diagnostic says we collected somewhere in the neighborhood of forty-seven billion terraquads of data. It's actually causing secondary systems on the ship to fail for lack of processing power."

The Royal Romulan looked up from the scanner she was tapping at incredulously, her jaw once more agape. "That's... what the... It's going to take us months to even begin to analyze that much data. Whatever that was inside of her, once we get back to Romulus, we need to repeat this with a more robust system to see if we get the same results. In the meantime, I believe our little chickadee may have earned a reprieve from ill-treatment. If this proves to be what I believe it is, that is."

"I agree. We will be arriving within the week, so it is sensible that we forestall any further attempts to extract more data from her mind until we have returned to headquarters. Still, there is something else of interest in all of this, Riov." T'Suil commented, replacing the console cover as she spoke.

"The Dox girl... before the Miradonian patterns emerged to buttress her own, all of the system data indicates a Vulcan level of mental defense. If this is true, she could represent a breakthrough our people have been trying to achieve since the Levaeri V experiments of the 2260's. Since the sundering, we have been unable to reattain any level of the mental abilities our people lost over those centuries in the search for our true home. Genetic experimentation came close, but ultimately failed to bear fruit. Physiologically, there's no reason we have been unable to regain those abilities, but this girl..."

Pausing for a moment, t'Suil looked thoughtful as she walked back over to her Riov. "Mistress, even if this level of mental defense is all she is capable of, it is a leap for a Rihannsu that we have sought as a people for generations. There have been rumors and reports of Rihannsu developing Vulcan abilities over the years, but we now have verifiable data. The High Command will absolutely want her subjected to every test possible to determine how this was possible."

"One more reason to afford her a few more... courtesies..." Rendal tapped her lips a few times, deep in thought. "Perhaps the Deihu's methods were not as far fetched as I had originally thought. The girl has obviously been mentally reconditioned in such a way to meet the requirements of that of a Kolinahr master in order to even come close to defeating the Ju'Rot and to do so outright..."

"Have her place in VIP quarters restored and her tutelage under the Deihu continued for now. I would like to do further sessions for the Deihu here, however, that no longer seems possible... Gaining her favor... and telling her that after this little scare we've changed our minds, may make her more amenable to at least listening to our side of things a little more." A hint of a wicked grin slowly slid into place on Rendal's face. "After all, she's still a Starfleet officer. They love nothing more than to compromise, don't they? And that's what we'll be offering. Compromise."

"Were it not for the mother getting into the girls head and derailing her progress, the Deihu may have succeeded. And it seems that the more direct pressure we add, the more resistance she offers. And the more effective that resistance becomes." T'Suil thought out loud, replying to her Riov. "And it is clear that the Deihu affected her loyalties. The girl has exhibited considerable compassion and even attachment for her Grandmother. That is something we can leverage."

"However, while the Deihu is under our control, it is a tenuous one at best and the girl can see through it. We will have to convince the Deihu of this of her own free will, perhaps with the promise of restoring it if she cooperates." t'Suil added.

"Yes... We will have to plan around that, but I believe we will be able to acquiesce to that concession. In a matter of speaking." Rendal tapped at her scanner a bit more, deep in thought. "Show them that we have seen the error of our ways while keeping the Deihu compliant to our wishes? You have a way with words, t'Suil. I feel those negotiations should be at least monitored by you, but to feel sincere, they should come from me."

"Ie, Riov. We can arrange a transfer immed..." But before the Erei'Riov could finish her sentence, an alarm came blaring over the comm system and a panicked voice came across, =^="Riov! There has been an incident in the brig... an escape attempt!"=^=

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

As the centurions escorted Lieutenant Mnhei’sahe Dox back to her cell in the brig, something had gone wrong.

Flanked by two centurions and her Grandmother walking behind them, the Romulan Warbird’s alarm claxon went off suddenly. They were halfway down the corridor when the guards shoved her up against the wall and told her not to move. She had seen a flash of green light and the sounds of a struggle at the other end of the cellblock. And now, she could only see a single Centurion standing right outside of the cell where her mother had been kept. The empty cell.

Her grandmother, Verelan t’Rul, could do nothing but stand by and watch. She had had her conscious ability to function co-opted by the mental reprogramming of Riov Dalia Rendal, and while her mind was still her own, her actions and words were dictated by what Rendal told her to do making her something of a puppet at the moment. But both women looked down the corridor with expressions of concern.

From behind Dox, Verelan, and the Centurions, the doors to the brig corridor flew open and Rendal and t'Suil marched in and rushed past them towards the cell, not even slowing to register them. The Subcommander shouted to the centurion standing at the cell Dox could see was now empty. " “What’s happened? Centurion… there was a report of weapons fire! Where is the prisoner?"

Immediately, Dox’s face went white and her heart tied into a knot in her side. Glancing over, she noticed that while Verelan’s face remained neutral, her eyes were wide. But with a disruptor pointed at her and her arms shackled all she could do was listen to the commotion down the corridor. But past the guards holding her in place she could see Rendal and t'Suil now talking to the Centurion. It was the one that had guarded her while she was in her cell. Arrain Pajom tr'Sahe... who fed her and showed her compassion. The one Dox believed might have been faithful to her Grandmother. The one she hoped would watch over her mother while she was away getting her treatment. The one she trusted.

After some back and forth between the injured Arrain tr'Sahe and Riov Rendal, he was eventually escorted out for medical care and a somewhat stressed looking Rendal and t'Suil left the brig, pausing next to Dox and her escorts. When she spoke, her voice was low and she refused to make eye contact. "It seems your mother realized that once you went under the Ju'rot, she was expendable and attempted an escape. She overwhelmed her guard at feeding time and he was forced to fire upon her. Disintegrations are not normal procedure. He will be reprimanded for his lack of discipline."

Dox simply stared blankly at Rendal in shock and disbelief. This was the single fate she had fought so hard to avoid. The prophecy from Death herself, Masato Rei, who had predicted that Jaeih’s time was short. The android Kodria reinforced this message from the future. But she had also been told by both Kodria and the entity called the White Rabbit that nothing was set in stone and that fate could be averted. But in this moment, Dox’s worst fears had seemed to come true.

Rendal paused a moment before continuing. "For what it's worth... You have my condolences. And... due to other events today, we have decided to... return you to your VIP quarters. If Deihu t'Rul is willing, she will continue your education on our people. That way we may find a way to... compromise... on a way to defend the Imperium. Al'thindor willing."

"Though our destination has not changed and your movements are still restricted... Please at least consider yourself a guest of the Imperium rather than a prisoner." With that declaration, the Royal Riov motioned for Dox's binders to be removed and for her instructions to be carried out. "Please have a protein synthesizer installed in her quarters."

Without hesitation, the Centurions holding Dox reached behind her and disengaged the heavy metal shackle that had bound her and her bruised arms flumped forward. Some part of her wanted to reach forward and try and kill Rendal right there, but she instead just stared forward blankly, her eyes dry but hollow looking. She looked first at Rendal, then down to the empty cell, then to her Grandmother, whose face betrayed nothing in the moment. And without saying a word, she simply turned away, letting the Centurions and Verelan lead her out, offering no resistance.

As soon as they had left, Rendal's emotions tried to boil to the top as she pulled out her scanner and marched back into Jaeih's former cell, scanning for what she knew would be there. If it was truly a disintegration, there would be Romulan molecules all over, but there weren't. What there was, was a residual transporter trace made to look like a partial disintegration. "I knew it. That traitorous bitch did escape! And she was beamed to..."

Rendal stepped out of the cell to one of the control consoles to trace the transport but immediately hit a dead end, her jaw hitting the deck once more today. "Into the food delivery system? During lunch? Are you kidding me? She could be anywhere on either ship!"

Immediately, the Subcommander's eyebrows raised in surprise before anger began to fill her as well. "Shall I begin an investigation, Riov? Interrogate the Centurion?"

"No. I believe discrete surveillance is more in order. We don't want to tip our hand that we know anything is amiss. For now, we must play the fools and pretend we are sorry and that we have seen the error of our ways." The Royal Riov comported herself and tucked her scanner away. "And for now we wait. We have all the chips, so now we wait for the other side to make their move before we strike again."

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

Many decks up, the turbolift opened on the familiar corridor of the guest quarters of the People's Will. After their credentials were cleared by the Centurions at the lift doors, Verelan led her granddaughter and her two guards out.

The walk was slow as Dox all but shuffled down the quarter, no longer being pushed ahead by the Centurions now ordered to treat her well. And after a long walk, they arrived at the door to the room she had already spent over two weeks locked inside. The Centurion to Dox's left pressed his palm to the security pad on the wall outside and with a buzz, the door slid open.

Slowly, her head hung low as she stared blankly forward and stepped back into her gilded cage. The guards turned to stand at attention on either side of the door as the elder Senator stepped inside her granddaughter's room she knew well was monitored.

The elder Senator stood, somewhat at odds. While Rendal had suggested she might continue to educate her granddaughter, in an unexpected twist, the mental conditioning, and obedience she had so hastily slapped into place on the Senator meant that without orders she lacked the capacity to actually make a great number of decisions on her own. Brainwashing was, after all, seldom about making someone do something, but more often preventing them from exercising free will. Thus, she stood awkwardly before shaking her head and crossing the room to sit down on the edge of the bed. This had been exhausting for her, and she was allowed to sit when she required rest. Directive 42.

Turning, still numb, Mnhei’sahe looked at the woman sitting on the edge of the bed and her face twisted with a flurry of different emotions. She could see the woman inside, unable to function without the orders of her masters. She could see the pain in her eyes. She could see how hard she was trying to do anything to resist.

Stepping over, Mnhei’sahe looked down, confused. Rendal took her father from her. Took her mother from her. And even through everything Verelan herself had done, she was still Mnhei’sahe’s grandmother. Perhaps the only blood she had left in the universe. And in the moment of pain and confusion, the young Rihannsu woman did the only thing she could think to do, and stopped thinking and decided to let herself feel.

Slowly, she sat on the edge of the bed next to Verelan, rested her head against the taller woman’s shoulder and put her hand over her grandmothers.

There was no directive to stop her from placing her arm around her granddaughter, and comforting her without words. That much Veleran t'Rul could still do, so that she did.

Nine months ago.

Lieutenant Mnhei'sahe Dox had brought a tray of calzones with her to the VIP Quarters on Deck 8 of the U.S.S Hera to visit a most unusual friend who seemed to like just about every kind of food there was.

She had done something to this effect at least once a week since she had helped free the room's occupant from an unnatural bond created with the Baroness Schwein von Alcott and, In the aftermath, had offered her hand in friendship. The friend in question was the literal manifestation of Death itself.

The entity had many names, but at the time, Dox hadn't yet discovered her true name of Masato Rei and called her Azrael. The lithe, dark-clad but friendly entity didn't mind as she couldn't remember that name yet either. They shared the calzones and talked.

But on that night, Dox was unusually quiet. It had been about a month since the Hera's disastrous mission to the abandoned Section 31 space station, 'Castillo De Muerte' but she was still struggling to deal with the deaths of the three security agents assigned to protect her: Reynolds, Smith, and Johnson.

It would have been easier to handle had the enhanced creatures of the base killed them in the line of duty, but they had been instead executed by their Commander, Lieutenant Alex Sexton. They had all come unglued in the stress and Dox had seen it happening. But the still raw officer failed to take command or control of the situation and three crewmembers died because of it.

So the young Rihannsu pilot was clearly distracted as she picked at her calzone and seemed half a galaxy away, talking with her friend.

"Something weighs heavily on your mind and I sense that it relates to my job, so to speak..." The pale woman waved a forkful of calzone in the air before poking it in her mouth and chewing thoughtfully. "You know, even if you feel alone, one of us is always listening, right? And I'm right here."

While much of the galaxy lived in dread of the woman, Dox found her unexpectedly warm. She had explained to the young pilot that, like her, she was the steward of a job. A responsibility that was hers to carry out, but one she always sought to do with compassion. She seemed to like having someone to talk to that wasn't about to die and Dox was glad to be her friend. Glad that she asked to know Death's name so that she could see her as she now did. But she also understood that that friendship was a responsibility and never wanted to ever think of the woman as a resource to be mined for information from. It was dishonorable and rude. But still, she did have questions.

"I... I don't want to ask anything that would be inappropriate, and I understand if it's something you can't tell me or simply don't want to, but I do have something that's been... I suppose 'weighing on me' is appropriate enough, if you don't mind my asking?"

Death nodded and set aside her fork for the moment, leaning back in her chair. "A certain... Long-eared friend... has cleared you and I trust you more than you may ever know, so, please. Feel free to ask anything you like."

Slightly confused by the woman's comments, Dox decided not to let it distract her as she rubbed an ear nervously. "Well... thank you. I... It was last month. On the space station. Castillo De Muerte. We... I...  had lost three crewmembers. They were assigned to protect me but... Well, I suppose you would know what happened. They were killed. Killed by the Security lead, of all people. And I was there, but..."

The raw young officer paused a moment to think as she looked down at the table between them. "I think a part of me thought everything was going to be okay because... well... I didn't see you there. And they died and I assumed I'd see you. Which, I suppose, was foolish of me, but I've still been thinking about it. And about them. And about failing them."

The pale woman sighed and picked her fork back up, looking it over as she thought about how to word her reply. "There are certain rules. Rules that the six of us as curators... Or agents... Ruling bodies? Whatever... We keep a lot of the essential functions of this universe flowing smoothly."

"One of my rules, since I literally escort the life essence of every living thing from this side of reality to the next, is that I'm never seen. Especially since I'm currently subconsciously doing it..." Casually, she waved the fork in the air, causing a silvery, white glow to trace its path as she thought. "At least a trillion, trillion times per second. The universe is a big place and I only cover this one."

"As for those three, I could assure you that there was nothing that you could have done. They were slated to transition that day and not even I could have rescheduled it. Attempting to do so would have caused long-lasting effects throughout other realms in the universe that I can't even begin to describe."

Again, Death waved her fork in the air, this time the lines forming a sort of fabric in the air above them. "With them extending further into the fabric of the universe, it causes other issues to crop up. Other connections not being made, new connections being made... Knots forming and loose ends... And between you and me, your Rita and Sonak couple are enough to deal with for now. If you heard even a hundredth of the things that the others complain about..."

"Anyway, the bottom line is that you need to look objectively at how you interacted with them during the time they were alive. If you can say that, without adding any knowledge of me into the mix, you and they lived well together, you did not fail them." With that declaration, the pale woman waved the silvery display away and set her fork back down. "Any other questions?"

Smiling lightly, Dox nodded. "I wish I had known them better. I had only just met them for that mission. I... rarely interact with security, but I think that's something that needs to change now that Rita's taking over the department. Especially if I'm going to go on more away missions."

Then she nodded again and cut off a fresh piece of calzone. "But thank you. I appreciate it. I don't... like I said... I don't ever want it to feel like I'm... using you as a resource. You're a friend, not Fedepedia. That would just be... I couldn't do that. But I do appreciate knowing that, at least. Thank you." 

"You're very welcome." Death picked up her fork again and resumed eating as well before another thought occurred to her, her head cocked to one side as if listening to something at a distance for a moment. "You know... I could bend that rule. You've seen me take someone with my main self, right?"

Without waiting for confirmation, she pressed on. "If I have to take someone or something close or dear to you, you'll be able to see a flash of what happens to know if they're at peace or not, ok?"

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

Today.

Still a prisoner on board the Romulan Warbird, ‘The People’s Will’, Dox sat quietly at the small desk in the quarters she had been returned too and remembered those words shared with Masato Rei so many months ago.

While small even by the standards of Junior Officer quarters on the Hera, it was positively luxurious compared to the cell in the brig she had been locked in for a week and a half. Locked in and shackled to a chair in. So… the quarters were certainly an improvement. And there was now a replicator for basic protein meals and fresh clothes she had changed into.

It had been several hours since she had been returned to the upgraded accommodations by the Centurion's and her brainwashed grandmother, where the two shared their grief together for a time. Then, after Verelan had left, leaving Dox alone again, she had spent the first hour pacing and trying to process everything that had happened. Everything regarding the fate of her mother. Then she took advantage of the sonic shower to clean over a week of distress built up during her time in the brig and she hated how good it had felt yet again. She hated herself for enjoying the amenities her captors were now giving her to soften her up.

She was still sporting deep green bruises on her wrists, ankles and neck from the week she spent in cold meal shackles and they still were quite sore, but she put that out of her mind as she got dressed. Rendal was going out of her way to try and ingratiate herself, in spite of the circumstances and it was painfully transparent. Instead of the dark greenish gray prisoners outfit she had been in, she was given a simple pair of gray, Rihannsu uniform pants and a black turtleneck... the undershirt of a Rihannsu uniform, of all things. It was certainly meant to be symbolic but it was more comfortable than the stiff, filthy clothes she had been in. And it only had whatever meaning she chose to give it, and she refused to give it any power. But even now as she sat, she wasn’t thinking about such details.

Instead, her thoughts were centered firmly on family and that conversation with Death.

While shackled to a chair in the brig, Dalia Rendal reunited Dox with her long-lost father. Then she ran him through with her sword. He was dead.

While being returned to that same brig after thwarting Rendal’s attempts at re-writing her mind with the converter and making her loyal to the Imperium, her mother had tried to escape. And the Centurion that Mnhei’sahe THOUGHT had been loyal to her grandmother and was trying to protect them fired his disruptor and killed her. Jaeih Dox was dead.

Or was she? There was something in her brain that told her something was wrong. Something didn’t line up. And she didn’t quite know what it was for a long moment as she thought, staring into the screen of the computer in front of her on the desk.

Her father. It was her father, she realized.

When Rendal killed him in the brig, when he died in front of her, Masato Rei had been true to her word. The rules of her station may have prevented her from directly helping Mnhei’sahe, but for the briefest of moments, she was there. She stood above the lifeless body of her broken father, and from his form, she pulled the spirit of the man that he had once been to take him to the other side. Mnhei’sahe had SEEN it when nobody else could.

But then, earlier that day in the Brig, she saw the muzzle flash of the disruptor and she saw the empty cell where her mother was said to have been disintegrated. But that was all she saw.

No Masato Rei. No spirit of her mother. Nothing.

And Mnhei’sahe couldn’t believe that Rei would have failed her in that moment. Not when the woman had warned her, bending the rules for her again, that Jaeih’s time might be limited. No. Her absence meant something.

Somehow… impossibly… Jaeih Dox was alive. Mnhei’sahe knew it. It was the only explanation. Rei would never have gone back on her word in that moment. Never. So, that meant that her mother was alive. Somehow, the event was staged. Afterall, Jaeih had been an intelligence operative for the Tal’Shiar for years before Mnhei’sahe was even born. And even now, as an operative for the Hera had successfully gotten in and out of secure facilities with ease. She had skills her daughter could only imagine. And that Centurion WAS loyal to her Grandmother. He must have helped her escape.

It all made sense. Or maybe she was just deluding herself. But in this moment, with precious little hope for escape on her own, it was a healthy delusion. It was a healthy hope and Mnhei’sahe allowed herself the slightest of smiles, hidden underneath the hands crossed over the bottom of her face as she sat, thinking with her elbows on the desk.

But whatever her mother’s fate, she still had to focus on her own. She still had to stay alive long enough for her crew to come for her. Because as sure as she was that Rei had not failed her, she knew Enalia Telvan and the crew of the Hera wouldn’t either. 

=^=Warning ships engines are....=^= the familiar sound of the ship's computer began before a very annoyed chief of engineering cut it off with a yell of " I KNOW......."

Her fingers were moving furiously as she was using every trick in her head to keep the ship's engines running. They hadn't been designed for running this long and she needed to do something to keep them running. She was running out of tricks to keep them running. Tapping her combadge she called the individual who could help her with this. =^= Thex to Sonak. I could use some help down here. The engines weren't designed to run this long and they're at risk of overheating and failing. =^=

''On my way,'' came the calm but firm reply.

"Shit!" Ensign Briaar Gavarus shouted, as inappropriately as was usual for the testy Tellarite, as she was dug in deep like a fat tick under a console. "Commander, the magnetic interlocks are screaming at me down here like that guy I sat on in third-year for copying off of my tests! I think we need to reinforce the shielding just in case, so we don't end up with a coolant leak!"

" On it." Thex yelled as she hurried over to the control console and furiously began typing as she tried to create a workaround to try and get more power to the shields. The ships reserves were already bursting, but with some tweaks and a few things moved around more power flooded to the shields. " Okay, that should hold it for a while. How's it holding Gavarus?"

With a grunt, the extremely hefty junior officer lifted herself off the deck to check her console. "That's frickin' holding. Stability is up to 86% and rising, Chief. That's one hole in the dike plugged. But we still need more power to keep this... hey, could we hardwire the engines of the runabouts into the ship? Draw extra juice from their warp drives?"

''That would only provide zero point four-seven percent increase in power, '' said the deep voice of Sonak as he entered the room. ''And that if we would have time and the means to connect them all. But there is another faster, if riskier option. if I may, Lieutenant Commander...''

As he came near them, he asked for access to the engineering computer controls and quickly brought up the schematics of the ship, zooming in on the nacelles as he explained what he was inferring at.

''The ship's ramscoop can collect directly from space both its ambient temperature and the most abundant element in the universe; hydrogen. Since the antimatter is flaring up, injecting more matter will amplify the reaction, thus maintaining the emergency velocity we are currently going with. At the same time, direct exposure to space will cool down the system sufficiently to control the reaction and preserve it from deteriorating further.''

He let a few moments pass by so that they could also make the same calculations he had done while coming from the bridge to engineering. Then his steely grey eyes bore into theirs.

''However, this will not only require direct constant and delicate monitoring and adjustments for both temperature levels and matter-antimatter reaction, but it will also expose this entire section to this same airless space ambient temperature... and to cosmic radiation.''

Again he waited a few seconds before confirming out loud what they now understood.

At least three people will have to remain in here while we isolate it with forcefields and radiation shields. radiation suits will make the operation cumbersome... and their protection will only last for so long; forty-seven minutes before the material itself start decaying.''

Listening, the porcine junior officer's face blanched and her stubby, curled tail all but retreated up her posterior at the thought. Briar Gavarus was terrified of being outside of a starship, and this seemed an awful lot like being outside while still on the inside. But she sucked it up to the best of her ability, though her awkward habit of stuttering while nervous was firmly intact. "T... That m... means EVA suits? Shhhiii...."

Cutting herself off from cursing in front of yet another command officer, Gavarus changed verbal course. "I... I'm r... r... rated and prepped for that. W... W... we have to do occasional space-walk repairs on the experimental ships in the R&D d... d... department."

Thex had been listening and running through the math in her head. The Vulcans logic was sound. " I could stay here for an hour if use the Achilles armor as both of the batteries are charged. " She added before looking over at Gavarus. " Gavarus I could really use your help with this if we're going to make it work. "

Sighing, the unconventional Ensign chuckled nervously trying to joke through her stress. "Y... Yeah. I k... know, chief. You got it. Just give me five to squeeze my fat ass into the suit. And if I die, just tell O'Dell she can keep Cueball and to clean out the memory on the PaDD I keep in the nightstand next to the bed."

Sonak addressed the chief engineer.

''I recommend evacuating the main engineering chamber. If you agree, I will monitor the intermix chamber reaction and dilithium recrystallization process directly while you and Ensign Gavarus work on the systems. Alerting sickbay for radiation protocol and fast response treatment for us would be wise. the rest of the engineering crew could monitor us from outside and have a team ready to take over for us if we falter.''

"Let's do this, people." Thex said as she began to order her team back from the affected area whilst she got everything ready for this plan. She also sent a message to sickbay to have them activate the radiation protocol. She also quietly wrote a message for her family and her unborn daughters. Just in case.

She finished just as the now suited Gavarus and Sonak returned in the EVA gear. " Okay anyone want to back out now before we get this done?" Thex asked as she pulled the armor's bracelets from her pocket.

Reaching back to pull the extremely tight material out of the crack of her prodigious posterior, Gavarus grunted and forced a chuckle. "Back out? I passed 'back out' when I b... baby powered myself into this S&M tourniquet, Chief. I'm good."

Her stutter was under better control, but the portly porcine was doing her best to look collected. Only moments ago, she too left a recorded message in her helmet cam for Fiona O'Dell and was doing her best to beat her nerves back.

" Okay, then let's do this. " Thex said as with a flash the armor of Achilles appeared. " Okay everyone to your stations. " She said as she headed for her's her helmets already tied into the engineering rooms main computer.

Sonak went to the computer control station and quickly reviewed the readouts.

'' Calculations for cooling effect of external ambient temperature against current overheating confirmed within four-point seven-five-three percent. Programming the incremental process of hydrogen collecting and keeping vents open for full exposure to external cold. Control will be from your station, Lieutenant Commander. I will monitor and report in real-time.''

With wide eyes, Gavarus looked at the Chief Engineer's armor as it appeared, literally magically and muttered to herself sarcastically with a playful smirk, "Oh, for @#$%'s sake? Really? And I have to squeeze into this... nice."

But as she muttered, she got into position near the coolant stations that wold likely need the most adjusting on the fly. "Ready, Chief."

" Okay let's light this candle." Thex said with the push of a button. A smile spread over her face as she saw the temperature begin to drop.

Even through her EVA armor, Gavarus could feel the temperature drop as the interior of main engineering was essentially exposed to the conditions of deep space. "Okay... coolant pressure is reducing, Chief. Mag clamps are holding. Everything looks like... SHIT!"

"Chief!" Gavarus called back up, "We're getting a build-up of Antineutrinos in the chamber. It's gonna neutralize the warp containment field if we don't boost the shielding."

" &^%$." Thex said out loud as she sprang over from her consol to reach the consols that handled power distribution. Her fingers were flying across the console as she did her best to find more power. Even still the mechanical girl managed to squeeze more and more power from the ship's systems as she called over to her companion. " is it holding?"

Checking the numbers on her console, Gavarus frantically replied back, "So far, Chief. But the buildup will have to be vented to maintain. Annnnd... Got it. One fire out."

''Intermix ratio remains constant, '' assured Sonak his eyes on two monitors at the same time. ''Dilithium recrystallization is keeping up but the flow of hydrogen has to be stemmed or the matter will exceed the antimatter particles. but we cannot do it by closing the Bussard collectors as it would reduce exposure to the cooling effect of ambient space.''

And they all understood what an excess of matter or antimatter would mean. It would mean the same as an overheat. It would mean a core breach.

Looking back up at Thex and Sonak, Gavarus gulped loudly. "Uh… Chief? How do we do that?"

Thex was running through every procedure she could think of to fix the mess. Come on girl giver her... " I have an idea. I can re-route the equipment we're using to repair the god weapons to end in a burst of Ganic radiation. In small enough amounts it will break apart the hydrogen, but we can't let it get too high or it could destabilize the reaction completely."

"Ganic… yeah." Gavarus muttered with an exaggerated smile on her face as she turned back to her displays desperately scanning for the Radiation she had never heard of. This is why you need to read the damn technical manuals instead of DRINKING all damn night, Briaar! the junior engineer thought to herself as the listing came up and she read her proverbial posterior off while finding the proper readout screen.

"Monitoring levels, chief!" She yelled back up.

''Ganic radiation emissions are balancing the reduction of external coolant effect and successfully breaking down hydrogen atoms; no increase in heat beyond acceptable parameters,'' Sonak confirmed.

Thex smiled under her helmet as she kept monitoring the ship's systems. For fifteen munites they were steady until the far two familiar warning light began to flash on the main console. Leaping over to it Thex smile faded. " Great the power connectors to the port nacelle are falling. Gavarus see if we can re-route the power while I try and fix it from here." She yelled calmly.

Watching the feeds, the armor-clad Tellarite held up a thumb and got to work. "I'm on it, Chief!"

A few successes had bolstered her confidence as she quickly began scanning the entire system looking for creative solutions to their power problem. "Looks like a build-up on the EPS Conduits over there causing… if I move the plasma flow from the port regulator coils and instead use the…"

The Porcine Ensign's thick, three-fingered hands were running like mad across her consoles as she muttered her thoughts half-out-loud, "@#$& yeah! Okay, Chief. I've got a reroute holding through the secondary plasma conduits. Should be able to now do a manual dump to clear the obstructions from the main EPS taps from your station!"

With a tap, Thex did so. She felt a slight bump as the dump happened and a thankful ending of the emergency alarm. At least for now. The Andorian was grateful for a chance to catch her breath. That didn't last long as the engine which was being pushed well beyond its limit kept falling in every way the Andorian could think of.

As the minutes ticked by she noticed that it was reaching the time her crewmates would have to leave. " You have two minutes left guys get out of here." She said as she continued doing everything she could to keep the ship running.

Jerking up from her lower console, still lit up like the proverbial Christmas tree, Gavarus was still busy putting out multiple fires as she yelled back up, "Uh, yeah, no way, Chief! We can't!"

Sonak then addressed the chief engineer.

''Up until now, I have recorded all of our workings and integrated the data into an automated program withing the engineering main computer banks. The longer I can continue this process, the more data I can add to the algorithm. The longer the algorithm, the better you will be able alone to continue, even if we are not here anymore to make adjustments. I need four-point fifty-three minutes to complete the programming.''

The Vulcan anticipated her logical objection.

''Vulcans and Tellarites are among the sturdiest races of the Federation. We can both take significant temperature and radiation damages and current medical science can restore us once this crisis is past. There will be no such restoration if the ship is destroyed.''

"Oh, for @#$% sake. I hate frickin' logic." Gavarus whispered to herself as she just kept working. "Yeah, what he said, Chief! You can court-martial me later if I don't die, okay? But you can't do this by yourself."

Behind her helmet, Thex couldn't help but smile. " Okay, I'll court-martial the pair of you tomorrow. Computer how long till we reach the Romulan border?" She asked the ship's computer.

=^=Estimated Arrival time: 37 Minutes.=^= The computer chirped its reply casually, as if the ship weren't threatening to burst at the seams. 

Listening, Gavarus kept working away at her consoles, rerouting power and resources as needed and beginning to feel a little warm in her EVA suit. "Okay... so C... Commander Sonak needs a few more minutes to set up his algorithms... then they should be able to take over for the rest of our relaxing Sunday drive, right?"

" Indeed. So we just have to....." The sapphire engineer began before the warning light began to flash again. What spread over the screen made her blood run cold. " We have a fracture forming in the warp core. Gavarus throw me the emergency kit I need to get that fixed or we can kiss our asses goodbye." She said moving with her usual graceful movement as she began to climb the core.

"SHHHHHIIII... on it, Chief!" Gavarus yelled out, pulling out the emergency kit from the nearby wall panel in a rush. Then, spinning around to throw it up, the gently roasting porcine Engineer strained for a moment to focus on which Chief Engineer sh'Zoarhi before shaking it off and tossing the kit to the correct Thex.

Thank you, ability to function while wasted. Gavarus thought to herself as she steadied herself on the console and got back to work.

''Chief Engineer; I am putting a level 10 forcefield around the fracturing area,'' Sonak informed her. ''It will hold for as long as we will have power and will help divert some of the excess energy back against itself. But it will avail to nothing once that energy is gone.''

In non-Vulcan, it meant that it would not matter when the ship would blow up.

''Please exert due diligence,'' he suggested, ignoring the tingling of his eyes as radiation mounted alarmingly.

Thex had caught the kit and was doing her best to shore up the surrounding area of the forming fracture. It should hold for a while, but she'd need to repair the whole system when they had some free time. " Sonak how long until the program is up and running." She yelled

''1 minute... mark,'' the chief science officer answered with a calm that contrasted with the direness of the situation.

"We... we got this, Chief!" Gavarus muttered, the radiation clearly starting to get to her as she kept at it, furiously rerouting power and adjusting the ship's systems as needed.

Sealed inside her invincible armor Thex felt so much pity for her two colleagues stuck in nothing but the federation's standard EVA suits. Even still the Andorian moved to try and keep everything running as the last sixty seconds felt like hours as she tried to keep her girl running.

thirty seconds.....
twenty seconds
Ten seconds
Five seconds
One.....

Squinting and bracing for the worst for a second, Gavarus peaked around as the readings began to level off across the board. "Uh? Does... this mean that it's working? Ooooorrrr, does this mean we all just died?"

''A most illogical question if you are able to state it,'' Sonak commented drily. ''Algorithm is complete and implemented. Program acting along projected parameters. Your hard work has paid off, Chief. And yours too, Ensign.''

And not a second too soon. Even the Vulcan's sturdiness was starting to show signs of strain. For one of the rare times in his life, he felt hot and dry as a mummified Le'matya sand blown in the middle of The Forge, back on his homeworld. His vision was starting to blur as his third eyelid wanted to cover his eyes from an expected yet nonexistent glare and his hearing buzzed with the million invisible flies pinpricking his skin. All the telltale signs of radiation poisoning.

"Thanks. But in my defense, stupid... stupid questions are my prerogative as almost-bacon, Commander." At which point, the porcine Ensign proceeded to vomit in her helmet as she turned to face Sonak, "BLEEEEERRRGHH!!! Oh @#$%... oh, that's just... oh it's running down the inside of the suit. UUUGHH! Uh... if we're not exploding, can I go to sickbay now, Chief?"

The Andorian nodded as she continued to check that Sonak's program was working. " Yes. Both of you get to sickbay and get fully decontaminated. I'll stay and check everything working before I join you."

"Aye, Chief." Ensign Gavarus nodded blearlily as she looked over her own consoles. "Everything is stabilizing down here. Shielding is... is holding. Power reg... regulation is... yeah. Yeah. Don't take too long, Chief." With which the anxious porcine stepped away from her console, having given it one last check to try and help before beginning to stagger to the exit.

Sonak checked the programming one last time with a level 5 diagnostic, nodded and left the chief engineer like a man carrying lead. He was already preparing himself to go into a healing trance once the decontamination proceeding would be implemented.

And after a moment, with the potty-mouthed porcine and the master of logic on their way to sickbay, the armor-clad Andorian was left to monitor the decidedly smoother running engine. With Sonak's algorithm in place and running, their combined skills and efforts were all still hard at work keeping the ship from flying apart at the seams for the final leg of it's mad dash to the edge of Romulan space

Thex gave the room another once over before turning to head for the exit. Stopping by the warp core she placed her hand on the machinery which was holding long since it's stress limit. " Well done girl." she said to the ship before she hurried off. Her batteries were running low.

After about a week at warp 9.8, the USS Hera was strangely silent. Towards the end, even Enalia wasn't sure if the engines were going to keep going or melt into slag, but she kept up her faith not only for the crew, but for Mnhei'sahe and Jaeih as well. They had to beat the kidnappers to Romulus so they could be in place to rescue them.

And the engines did hold out. Magnificently so, thanks to the diligence and skill of Lieutenant Commanders sh'Zoarhi and Sonak. The newer Venture series nacelles had performed magnificently. If this weren't a classified vessel, they would have been able to publish the new speed record they had made crossing the galaxy in a Nebula class, but alas... Top Secret, so they could not.

For now, at least, they could relax for a few hours, gather themselves, and perform repairs. Most importantly, they had a rendezvous to attend to. Enalia had already undergone her own cosmetic surgeries to make her look and scan as Romulan and her new ridged forehead and pointed ears framed her chosen hairstyle, the 'bun of steel' quite well. She still wore her Starfleet uniform and though her newly tinted olive skin clashed miserably with command red, she thought she would cut a fetching jib in a Romulan uniform.

Arriving on the bridge, she surveyed the assembled crew as she relieved the Ensign in the center chair. "Thank you Ensign Willaby. I'll take it from here."

"Aye, Captain," he responded, doing his best to maintain his composure at the captain's new look. "We received a message from the Golden Ghost, and they should be arriving any moment now."

"Excellent. Thank you." Enalia almost gave her usual lopsided smile before recomposing herself and gave what she thought was the normal Romulan tight-lipped nod. Best to start fitting in before it's needed.

Striding onto the bridge in her usual gold minidress, the throwback fashion on the throwback officer, Commander Rita Paris had also undergone similar cosmetic surgeries, as well as a fresh haircut to enable her to emulate the ‘pointed bangs’ haircut favored by most Romulans. ‘Rihannsu’, she corrected herself, proof that the Romulan memory inlays were taking hold. Having eschewed the ridged forehead, Paris from the neck up looked the part- her blue eyes would set her apart, but they happened amongst blonde Romulans, who were a rarity apparently. In point of fact, she looked somewhat related to one of the more infamous Romulan commanders, Sela.

Far and away Rita was prettier and curvier, but to someone unfamiliar with the Romulan commander, the mistake could easily be made. Stepping onto the bridge, she found herself in the habit of rubbing the newly-pointed and tapering pointed ear tips she now sported, which were elegant, but definitely took some getting used to seeing in the mirror, and feeling when she flexed the scalp muscles that moved her ears.

That was when the Ensign at ops called out, suddenly alarmed. "Captain! Ship decloaking! Dead ahead! It's... Ma'am, it's the Golden Ghost. They're hailing us." The panic in the ensign's voice dropped to relief as they figured out who it was.

On the viewscreen, the shimmer of a cloak disengaging filled the view, revealing the underbelly of a pristine 2270's T'liss Bird of Prey, complete with full regalia art. Indeed, it looked as if Al’thindor himself were about to swoop in and catch the crew in his claws.

"Now that... That is a beautiful ship..." Enalia muttered at the sight.

“Agreed, she’s a beauty all right. Classic lines, and back when starships were designed with a little style, and not just for form and function,” Rita agreed, coming to stand beside the captain’s command chair to her right, the ‘traditional’ locale for the First Officer when standing by at the Captain’s side.

"On screen, Ensign. I'm looking forward to this,” Enalia ordered.

In front of the Hera, the Romulan Bird of Prey was comparably tiny, but it’s posture made it seem much bigger than it actually was, hovering ahead and above the bow of the pearlescent black Intel Starship proudly. As the screen activated, there was the image of a Romulan woman in her 40’s with short-cropped, dark brown hair, prominent forehead ridges and wide-set, almond-shaped green eyes.

Behind her was a much more modern-looking bridge than the ship’s exterior would suggest. Consoles that had equipment that looked snatched from a more modern Warbird glowed green in the background. The woman wore a Romulan military uniform and the rank of a Riov but sported a slight smile as she looked Captain Telvan over with a half-lidded expression of amusement.

Then, the woman gave a bow and spoke. “It is with honor that I address the ruling Queen of the Artan family. On behalf of my Baroness, I bid you welcome. I am Maenek Helev t’Liun, in command of the ‘Isahj’ey Aehallh’... ‘The Golden Ghost’. This ship, her crew, and I... are yours to command.”

The woman spoke with incredible reverence and respect through a thin accent in Federation standard as she bowed. ‘Maenek’ translated as ‘Doctor’, which wasn’t the standard command structure of a Romulan ship, but in truth, this was an ARTAN Privateer ship and very little about those were particularly common.

"Maenek Helev t'Luin of the Isahj'ey Aehallh', you, your vessel, and your crew honor us and your Barony," Enalia replied with a respectful bow of her head. "Our cargo is ready to be received and our crew will be ready shortly. I assume you have the standard Artan transport systems installed?"

Nodding respectfully, the woman on the screen replied. "Beyond standard, your Majesty. We have also realigned and tuned all of our transporters to the specifications your Science Officer provided. We also have several transport Flitters and shuttles in our docking bay as required for ship-to-ship transport as needed."

"I have also prepared my Medical crew and myself for the specific requirements of the transferred crew as may be needed. Though, may the Elements have no need for my services in this endeavor." The Rihannsu doctor added.

"Excellent. And just Captain will suffice. I'm here in my role as a Starfleet Captain, after all." Enalia then turned to Rita. "Though I forwarded them all the details of your quantum transport allergies, I'd feel better if you took one of the Cyclones over. I'm sure you would too, plus how often do you get a close up of such a magnificent starship like that?"

“Far be it for me to pass up an opportunity like that. I’ll get my gear and fly the getaway Driver over,” Rita replied with a grin, waiting for the nod of dismissal to begin making her way down to the flight deck, where she already had her small gear bag stowed and the flight crews has the formerly golden Cyclone, newly repainted to match the standard Scorpion fighter craft.

From the screen, as Rita left the bridge, Maenek t’Liun smiled ever so lightly. "We shall put the running lights on for the Commander, then, Captain."

"Thank you," the formerly spotted captain replied with her usual lopsided grin. "We'll coordinate transport of the other Cyclones as well as our personnel and equipment immediately. I look forward to working with you."

Nodding again, Maenek t’Liun replied, "And I, you Captain. Once aboard, I would request each crewmember transferring to the Aehallh report to me in the medical bay. I will require extensive bio scans to ensure that we are completely prepared for every potential crisis. The replication of healthy, species-specific plasma and the like."

"Better to double-check and all that, I presume? Some of our crew aren't having the procedures done and will be along in support roles." Enalia did her best to mimic the common jade faced statuesqueness of a Rihannsu commander as she continued her reply, now speaking the language."However, in the interest of expedient medical care, I will have them report as well in case they are injured. After all, Cardassian and Andorian physiologies aren't the most common in the Imperium and having a prepared physician is a boon." It had been years since she'd had both the Klingon and Romulan cultural and language brain dump but she hoped that she could still pass as well as she did when she was sixteen.

"Thank you, Captain. Once aboard the Golden Ghost, these crewmembers will be under my care as both Commander and Doctor, and our is a small ship. Even crewmembers not on the away mission will face threats if we are forced into a battle that my mnhei'sahe demands I be prepared for. And I am the type to insist on preparedness in all things." Maenek t'Liun replied, now speaking in her own native Rihan to match Captain Telvan's efforts.

"Perfectly understandable, Maenek t'Luin. I would do no less if I were in your position. I assume that cabin arrangements are double or quadruple bunks for everyone, including myself?" Enalia continued in Rihan, smoothly enunciating the language, though she was fairly certain her accent would place her as a somewhat outdated and old fashioned spacer.

Tilting her head slightly, t'Luin looked around slightly. "Most crew quarters couch no less than two crewmembers. Lower ranking ones, four to a cabin. We've cleared some space for your arrival and will be able to accommodate a number of cabins with twin couches for your crewmembers. I have cleared the command quarters for yourself, however, and it will be available upon your arrival."

Enalia shook her head, her facade cracking as she grinned. "Please, you don't have to go through any trouble. You may quarter me as you would anyone else."

"The arrangements have been settled, Captain. We were using the quarters as a conference room, so you will have to account for a mid-sized table in the room we had no room for elsewhere. Besides, I have a couch in my office in the Medical Bay and take my rest there. I may be the ship's Commander, but I'm a Maenek first and that's where I prefer to be." The Rihannsu doctor nodded respectfully. "It is no trouble, I assure you."

"Very well, in that case, I'll bring along a case of something I recently discovered on a trip to Earth called Mike's Hard Lemonade as a gift to you. It admittedly pales in comparison to kali'fal, but for a human drink it is surprising." Even speaking Rihan and mixing in a few english words, Enalia rolled the languages back and forth like a seasoned veteran, just as she'd done all her life and for once, she thanked her mother for all those nights of language training.

"I look forward to it, Captain. Now, if you will excuse me, my Erei'Riov can attend to the specifics of the remaining transfers, but I have some final arrangements to attend to and must be off to the shuttlebay to greet the Commander." The respectful Maenek nodded as she spoke. "Jolan'tru."

"Jolan'tru," Enalia replied with a nod. As soon as the viewscreen cut back to the view of the other ship, Enalia couldn't help but let slip a small sigh. "Well, it seems someone else will be in charge of the old girl for a while. Ensign Willaby, the bridge is yours."

As Enalia stood and headed for the door, the Ensign took over. "Aye, Captain. She'll be here in perfect condition when you get back."

As she stepped into the turbolift, Enalia turned back for one last remark before the doors closed. "I'm counting on it."

Looking over the Getaway Driver, her golden lines all obscured by blackness, Paris sighed.

There had been a genuine fondness for the gold with black accent paint job that matched her armor. But, practicality had to be what it was. This was a mission into Romulan space. A two man craft that could be beamed into a tight space would be handy, and they needed to blend in with the locals. Thus she had put in the order to have them repainted, although they wouldn't pass close inspection. Mona Gonadie had gone over every inch of then redesigning as the knuckleheads in R&D found the faults, and these were vast improvements over traditional Scorpions. Rita cocked an eyebrow that even the phasers had been replaced, and now the 'tailgunner' that gave the Scorpion its name had been replaced by the previous model disruptor.

All three sat patiently on the pad, looking sinister. She'd only asked for the one to be reconverted, and the gold-clad commander hadn't expected all three to get the treatment.

"Wow, Mona doesn't fool around," Paris muttered as she peered into the cockpit, and the interior controls were all in Romulan as well. Which she could now somewhat read, thanks to a few wonderful migraines. Apparently Mona had gutted them of their Federation tech? Shaking her head, Rita summoned her flight suit from the extradimensional space she carried, a gift of the goddess. As the golden composite material armor settled onto her form, Paris powered it up and shook her head. "Praise Hera."

Across the ship, an eyebrow rose.

On her armor's holographic overlay displays, she still read the three with their nomenclatures, but there was something new. The ships each showed in the displays as having active deflectors set on holographic mode.

"Holographic mode... wait," Paris began to put it together quickly. "Because the cloak, when the Klingons and Romulans use it, they use it to project nothing being there- that's the cloaking device the Federation swore not to employ. But since it's wave mapping the hull, if you just want to disguise what's there and it's the same approximate size and shape... Mona Gonadie, you mad genius. You figured out how to make a Federation cloaking device that's legal. We don't vanish, we disguise."

"It was either that or rebuild all three of them with their original hardware and this was a lot easier," came the reply over the comms from the aforementioned brightly plumed avian, a video feed popping up of her working on another holographic monstrosity. "Starfleet tinkered with holographically disguising whole ships in the past, and my system just takes it a step further using a fraction of the power. This way you get all the cool tech we installed, plus you can change the paintjob up at any time, just in case."

"Ensign, it's a good thing you refuse all promotion or I'd be liable to promote you on the spot," Paris chuckled, spinning through the options menus to flip the appearances of the Cyclones. Red, gold, blue, green, even purple... the mind boggled. "And they can't cloak like this, so they don't violate the Treaty of Algeron. Absolutely brilliant, Mona. I'm still putting you in for a commendation."

As she spoke, Paris popped the hatch on Getaway Driver, and tossed her bag of gear into it. "I'll bring the other two with me, as obviously you intended, seeing how you have them already pre-slaved to my system's operation. We might just need them both, and I will feel a lot better with your technology under me than unpredictable Romulan tech." Pausing to open her helmet, Paris spoke to the holographic image of the brightly plumed aviatrix, her expression earnest and serious. When she spoke, her voice was one of quiet calm and determination, of confidence that Mona Gonadie desperately needed to hear right now.

"We'll get them back, Mona. We'll find them, and we'll bring them home. You just stay busy in the meanwhile, and make sure we still have a home to return to when we've got them, all right? We're counting on you for that, so that you can count on us to rescue them. Which we will. Because failure is not an option." While she wasn't exactly emotionally disconnected from this situation, Paris still knew the importance of morale on the home front, and Mona needed to hear from someone who could make a difference that it was going to be alright. Paris was determined that was going to be the case, so she said so. The Dox's would be returned, safe and sound if she had any say in it.

Hopefully, the universe was willing.

"Thank you, Commander. I've been told that I need to trust in all of you so..." There was a brief pause as Mona was obviously getting emotional, wiping tears from her eyes before they leaked out. "So I leave this all to you. May the blessings of the Moon Goddess and Hera go with you."

Again, from across the ship, a certain person reacted, this time with a knowing grin. She wasn't the only one smiling down, however.

“I’ll get them back, Mona. I have no idea how, but then, that’s usually my strongest suit, as Sonak says,” Rita admitted. After all, improvisation in the moment was what often made her successful when planning and tactics failed. “The Captain and Sonak will be with me, and we’ve got the best chance imaginable of pulling this off and bringing them home. So with that said,” Paris climbed into the getaway driver, the holographics over the controls canceling out as she deactivated them to jack her armor into the system for a hardline redundancy to the wireless signal. Slaving the other two Cyclones to her control, she began her preflight checks on all three vehicles.

“Time for a rendezvous with Romulus,” Rita muttered.

Rather than ending the call or wishing the commander good luck, Mona paused a moment, a look of worry crossing her face a moment before she spoke up. "Commander... Rita... I normally don't put much faith in dreams... But with our bond, there might be something more to mine since..."

Talking about the incident was clearly still difficult for the brightly plumed Miradonian as even in the holo-comm, her feathers looked flat as she looked down at her workbench. "I've been having a repeating dream and they got stronger for a bit, and now they're getting a bit weaker. I'm trying to reach for my Minay over a great distance and she's trying to tell me something... but I just... I can't make out what she's trying to say..."

She then looked back up into the sensor and at Rita. "I think this is a trap. For the Captain, for you, for the Hera... For all of us. Please be careful."

"I'd hug you if you were close, Miss Gonadie. Mrs, Gonadie, I suppose officially now." Shaking her head, her eyes still somehow drawn to the Lollipop guild forelock she was sporting, the golden oldie of another age shook her head sadly. "Mona, Sonak has warned me of danger from the planet in standard orbit. From a neighboring dimension. I know when he's in trouble, and he knows when I need him. I believe you... I have no problem believing you whatsoever, Mona."

"I've seen too much of the multiverse to be jaded, Ensign. So I believe you. Without hesitation, I believe you." The sincerity in the human woman's bright blue eyes were convincingly earnest. "Don't let her know that we're coming or she's liable to do something self-sacrificing in the name of trying to save us from her trouble. You know your wife," Paris ended with a small smug smile.

"Thank you," Mona replied, almost to tears once more. "I don't think our bond is nearly so strong she'd hear anything back but I'll do my best not to let her know. Just... May the wings of the Moon Goddess guide you and the Trickster slumber as you fly silently." The blessing was something her mother and foster parents both said to her often growing up as it was a traditional Miradonian blessing for safe travels. Here it somehow felt more appropriate than the normal 'good luck'.

"Keep that candle in the window, Mrs. Gonadie. We'll be home soon enough." With that said, Rita snapped her armor's helmet shut, the plates building and stacking to unpack the high-tech polymer plates of the EVA armor and assemble them over her head. As she activated the Getaway Driver, Curiosity and Cherry Bomb, lifted them off the deck with precision synchronization, and the trio cloaked back to Scorpion black as they cut through the void.

Ahead loomed one of the great Romulan 'Birds of Prey' of her day. She'd seen them before, of course, back in her own day. But this was a rare opportunity to take a vanity flight around one, and this was an opportunity she wasn't going to pass up. This would serve as an exterior examination of the starship, after all. If she was risking life and limb aboard a starship for the next few weeks, she was determined that it be one with which she was both familiar and confident.

Besides, taking her time would be worth it to take a good long look at this beauty.

"Hello 'Golden Ghost'... funny, in a way that's me too..."

The flight deck of the ARW Isahj’ey Aehallh, the vintage Rihannsu Bird of Prey called in Federation Standard, ‘The Golden Ghost’, was already moderately full. Compared to the massive size of the Hera, the century and a half old T’liss class starship was tiny. Along one wall was a modern Charon-class shuttlecraft, roughly the same size as a Danube class Runabout. But in this space, it took up a third of the landing bay. Next to the shuttle were parked two black Flitters, closer in size and style to what one might think of a limousine on Earth.

But two-thirds of the remaining space was left clear for the needs of the oncoming crew of the U.S.S. Hera and their mission. As the ship's commander, Maenek Helev t’Liun, came striding into the bay, her head was buried in a dark green data PaDD, familiarizing herself with the oncoming Starfleet crewmembers. The Rihanna woman was taller than not, standing at a good one point seven meters and was wearing a modern black and gray Rihannsu military uniform with the rank markings of ‘Riov”, or commander, on her neck. A neck she tugged at uncomfortably as she tucked the PaDD into her rear pocket and rolled her wide-set, green eyes.

Standing at the ready, the bay doors opened as the green forcefield that kept them all from being blown into space shimmered slightly. T’Liun had made her way down from the bridge to meet with the first of the crewmembers of the Hera to transfer to her ship and her care: Commander Rita Paris, who required to fly over rather than beam in due to what was described to her as a ‘quantum transporter allergy’. It was a concept that t’Liun was admittedly curious about as a ‘Maenek’ or doctor.

The trio of Scorpion fighters flew in with computerized precision, right until they swung wide as if on pivots, with a slight correction at the end that made it clear the pilot was piloting manually. As the trio touched down in an economical amount of space, they tucked in even closer as they settled, clearly prepared for storage and not rapid deployment. Save if piloted by an accomplished officer at the stick.

As the trio of small craft snuggled together, the canopy of the lead Scorpion unsealed and rose, and out climbed a gold and black-clad figure in EVA armor that still could not hide the hourglass figure of the inhabitant. As she stepped out of the craft, the armor suit stopped and stood rigid for a few seconds as it powered down, giving the Rihannsu riov an opportunity to notice the distinctive non-standard coloration, and the antiquated delta on the breast, which she recognized from military history as Starfleet command insignia from the mid 23rd century, the time this starship was built.

Then the suit simply... vanished. Suddenly it just wasn't there, and in its stead was the former occupant of said rather unusual EVA armor. Who was dressed in, of all things, a mini-dress of what appeared to be a velour of some sort. That same antiquated insignia was borne on her breast on a raised version of that ancient delta, and the woman was tall- and wearing heels, the Commander noted, with what she surmised were amazingly comfortable boots that looked made for running and moving.

While the Rihannsu Doctor knew of Rita Paris from her involvement in the Artan Tribunal, she had never seen her in person before, and the woman looked oddly familiar, for some reason. It was probably the distinctive shock of blonde hair styled in the traditional Star Empire military cut, with delicately pointed ears that were somehow striking as the rest of her, with her bright blue eyes as well- traits very seldom, if ever, seen in Rihannsu.

The woman looked like if Sela had borne a very pretty daughter somehow. In a crowd of thousands, she would stand out. This would never do. Whatever she thought she was doing with that uniform, did she not know she was on a stealth mission? The woman might just be insane, given this 'quantum allergy' of hers. The Federation might have sent her a madwoman to conduct to the Hearthworld.

Taking the unconventional Starfleet officer in as discretely as possible, the Rihannsu Doctor and Ship Mistress stepped forward and offered a respectful now, her hands folded behind her back, as she spoke in Federation standard with a mild accent. "Greetings, and welcome to the Golden Ghost, Commander Paris. I am Maenek Helev t’Liun, the ships Commander and mission leader on behalf of Baroness Sienae Nei'rrh."

As she did, she waved over a crewmember and pointed to the three Cyclones as she returned to her native Rihan for a moment, "Arrein tr'Ranan. See to it that the visiting vessels are secured properly according to the specifications the Hera forwarded immediately."

The young crewmember nodded and replied, "Ie, Riov."

Still speaking in her native tongue, t'Liun snapped at the young equivalent of an Ensign and waved him away. "Don't call me that. It's Maenek. Dismissed."

As the crewmember took off towards the Cyclones, t'Liun straightened back up and switched back to Federation Standard. "Pardon me, Commander. If you would like, I can escort you to assigned quarters or give you a tour of the ship."

"Rita Paris, nice to make your acquaintance, Commander," Paris offered a handshake and an easy smile, as apparently, the Earthling saw nothing out of the ordinary in her dress and behavior. "A tour would be nice- seems we'll have a few days to get used to one another on the way there, and I've only been on board one of these one time before, and... well, that wasn't under the most optimal of conditions. So if you're offering, I'm taking. I'd love a tour of this beauty."

While many might be given to empty flattery, it was clear from the look in the anachronism's eye that she genuinely appreciated the old vessel, and when she spoke, there was no sarcasm, but a reverence for the dignified old dame of the line, the original Bird of Prey before the Klingons stole that name for their own oddly-shaped vessels.

For a long second, it seemed as if Maenek t’Liun was not going to return the offered handshake as her eyebrows went up slightly, showing Rita just how green the Rihannsu woman's eyes were. But then, she brought around her hand and met Rita’s with a firm handshake. One she didn’t let go of right away.

“A tour will be my pleasure, Commander. We are quite proud of our home here, and rarely have the opportunity to show her off. And while you may find many of us reluctant to return gestures like this, you should understand that it is not a personal affront, but rather a cultural affectation. We rarely touch casually.”

As she spoke, she held her grip for a moment longer to make a point. “However, for the sake of our upcoming mission, it would behoove you to note another, much more tactical reason to avoid physical contact. Rihannsu don’t quite have the same internal cooling mechanisms as our Vulcan cousins. Our skin often runs quite warm to the touch comparatively, and my heart rate is twice yours, commander. All of this, I can feel in this handshake.”

Releasing the handshake, Maenek t’Liun returned to her previous posture, hands folding again behind her back. “That said, I am quite curious as to the circumstances in which you have found yourself aboard a T’liss-Class Bird of Prey before.”

"It's... a long story," Paris explained somewhat hesitantly. "Back in 2267, were sent after a rogue faction that was trying to bring war to the galaxy, as there was a section of Starfleet that didn't believe in peace. While we were hunting down a rogue starship of ours, we encountered the IRW Raptor Star under the command of Commander Artorius of the Star Empire. He had rescued the crew of the USS Colombia and worked with us in a strategy to overcome the USS Conquest and end that threat to the galaxy once and for all. All of which, of course, never happened in this universe."

Watching the face of the Romulan commander as Paris explained how she'd been aboard one of these archaic vessels in another time and dimension, she knew how far-fetched her story seemed. But the life of Rita Paris was one of unbelievable encounters, and in this case she offered an honest answer to the question. Shrugging at the unconcealed skepticism over her explanation, the full-figured femme shrugged, and offered as way of explanation, "I've led a complex life."

"Clearly." Listening, Maenek t'Liun raised an eyebrow quizzically with a look that spoke more of curiosity than disbelief. "I have only access to your Medical profile, which is fascinating enough reading and this tale only serves to lend credence to some of the things I've read in that regarding your quantum instability issues. As a doctor, I'm looking forward to your medical check-in."

"Hmmm... Artorius. Interesting." The enigmatic Rihannsu commander muttered as she pulled the PaDD back out of her pocket and handed it to Rita. "Anyway, this PaDD has been loaded with a preliminary quarters assignment. Ours is a small ship, so crew quarters are shared. We have cleared enough space so that the transfers from the Hera will have room. I made basic pairings that were obvious such as yourself and the Lieutenant Commander as you are listed as spouses. You may wish to adjust the rest of the assignments as needed. And at least one Hera crewmemeber will need to bunk with one of my crewmembers for the time being."

“I think Mr. Varnok would be delighted to engage in some cross-cultural exchange. I’ll let you make that call. As for the rest, none of these seem disastrous pairings,” Paris observed as she studied the list. “And thank you, yes, I’ll have no issue rooming with Mr. Sonak- we’ve been doing so for years and we’re recently reunited, so your courtesy is most appreciated. As is your advice- I have a surprising understanding of Romulan physiology, but very little practical application as a spy. I’m a legendarily terrible liar, which tends to lend itself to being avoided for Intel work. So I appreciate the tip.” The gold-clad commander smiled, a genuinely warm smile meant to welcome and disarm.

Satisfied that that bit of organization was under-control, Maenek t'Liun lead the time-tossed transfer to her ship to the bay doors. "Very well, then we can begin the tour. If you would follow me." Leading Commander Paris into the corridor, the pair began to walk. Maenek's pace wasn't quite as brisk as Rita's usual martial stride, but it served. And with fewer curiously pointed ears about, the equally curious Rihannsu woman talked as they walked. "We can move on to the engine room first, though I admit that I have a number of questions."

Tugging slightly on the tight neck of her uniform as she spoke, t'Liun kept her gaze forward as she did, "If you consider yourself underqualified for undercover operations, cannot be safely beamed, and are a self-proclaimed terrible liar who... forgive my bluntness... does not exactly blend in amongst my people... why have you been assigned to this mission?  

“The kidnapped women in question are very dear to myself and the crew. They’ve both come a long ways while under our command, and I have rather a large personal stake in both their futures. In short, I’m here and I’m proceeding because it’s the right thing to do. I’d march into hell for those two, so catching a ride to Romulus to try to rescue them is easier than that,” Paris explained. “And for the record, please feel free to ask me anything, I don’t mind. Better to sate your curiosity than wonder if you have an enormous liability on your ship who is liable to get you betrayed and captured by the Tal Shiar.”

While it was equally as blunt, the explanation was not at all far from the truth of the concerns at hand. “Our ship’s hairdresser already warned me that blonde Romulans are not only rare but generally expunged at birth for having variant genes. So I have a bottle of dye in hand for when we get there, just as I have one of those delightfully uncomfortable uniforms you are attempting to get used to wearing. All in time, Commander. As I said, we’ve a lot of space to cover yet.”

"If you would, please, Maenek or Doctor is my preferred title. While Baroness Nei'rrh has seen fit to place this ship under my command... if we are being straightforward... I find I dislike the title of 'Commander' or 'Riov'. I am a Doctor first and foremost... though I believe my crew gets some measure of glee out of making me correct them."

"And judging from the uniform you choose to wear, you will likely enjoy the boundless comfort of this uniform at least as much as I do." The last comment was said with the slightest of sarcastic smirks. "But Baroness Nei'rrh and myself respect your Baroness Dox and her mother. Few on this crew are quite old enough to have been among those freed by the Dox's, but the memory of the work that they did freeing Rihannsu from the Imperium lingers long in this service, Commander Paris. So it is a matter of... honor... that we are here to assist you and right this wrong. And I extend to you the same courtesy you did me. If you have any questions, do not hesitate to ask."

“That’s much appreciated, Doctor. My head will be jammed with information for the next few days, but I suspect that my pronunciation and dialect will likely need work, as well as enjoying that couch you’re currently wearing," Paris joked in return, then her mein turned to the serious once more. “The Dox’s… they are family to me. I don’t know that the concept of honor.. of… Mnhei’sahe? Is the same for me as it may be for you… but it is absolutely a matter of honor for me. For us. I… I could not live with myself if I did not do everything in my power to save them. She is my friend, my sister, and my protégé. I’ve been given a second chance to save them, and I am determined to succeed.”

While it might have sounded like just pretty words, that was iron determination behind them. The woman might claim to be a terrible liar, but she was certainly managing to be emotionally evocative in her expression of her motivation. Unless she was quite the liar, it was clear this meant everything to the fresh-faced young woman in the very old uniform, who spoke in odd riddles and allusions to mysteries that created more questions than answered.

Turning to look at Paris with a raised eyebrow, t'Liun took the woman in and processed her words. "Mnhei'sahe is a cutting word, commander. It's why very few of my people say it anymore. Too hard to live up to. It requires balance. And balance often requires blood."

“I don’t know much about honor, and I know less of Romulan culture,” Paris explained with minor irritation evident in her voice. So much for using a cultural touchstone you just learned to offend someone, Rita. . “But I know right and wrong, and this requires me to act if I’m ever to look myself in the mirror again. If I’ve used the word incorrectly or offensively, I apologize- I was only recently made aware the meaning of my officer’s first name, and clearly I don't understand the cultural relevance. But if balance requires blood, then so be it. I’d prefer to keep mine where it belongs, but if that’s what it takes, then that’s the price I’ll pay.”

There was the hint of a smile on t'Liun's lips as she stopped in the corridor and turned to Paris. "You have shown no offense, nor have you erred, Commander. Too many of my people think that the price must always be paid in the blood of another. But as you said, you would walk into hell for your sister. You understand mnhei'sahe quite well. It is too many Rihannsu people that do not."

Then the smile twisted slightly more mischievously. "But you do lean heavy on the middle syllable."

The smile that was returned was one of relief, and frank approval. “Please, Doctor. Just Paris will do, or Rita if it’s just us. I’m not much married to my rank, and on your ship that might get a bit confusing if people start calling out for the commander,” Paris offered gamely as she began walking again. “I’ll work on that pronunciation… as for the Rihannsu people, well, that seems like a rather large issue to consider. Again, I am…. ignorant of more than I am aware. In my day we’d just seen Romulans for the first time a year or so ago, and I had encountered them and found them to be remarkably honorable. But that was a hundred thirty years and a universe away, so it’s not exactly relevant today.”

Lowering her voice, Paris came clean with the alien commander. “Honestly, I’m worried sick. Dox has a tendency to blame herself for everything, and while her mother is quite the accomplished operative, I fear for both of their safety. I’ve got a shot at this, and while I still have no idea how I am going to pull this off…. I have to save them. I have to. They can’t have come so far, have gone through so much for me to fail them now.” Paris looked over and shrugged sheepishly. “Sorry… it’s… been weighing on me for a long time, and I have a second chance. I have to make this work.”

"You need not apologize, Paris." t'Liun said, walking next to the gold-clad Starfleet Commander. "I may not be fond of command, but I understand its burden. Your feelings, I am sure, rarely are given voice. So, you are free to feel however you need in the moment without judgment."

"As for ignorance, it is nothing to be ashamed of so long as you remain determined to extinguish it." Then as she spoke, the Doctor switched from Federation Standard to her own native Rihan with that same smirk, "And in service to my own mnhei'sahe, I commit myself to your service in this endeavor. We have a few days to plan this rescue... I'm sure I can help make you at least a reasonable facsimile of a Rihanna woman in that time."

At that, Paris smirked, obviously enjoying an inside joke. “A reasonable Romulan gal… Daddy would have been so proud.”

As she had promised, Enalia ensured that all of her people had reported directly to the Golden Ghost's medbay for initial check-in and checkups to make sure the vessel had a workup on each of them and that those with disguises and modifications would pass scrutiny. Thus, she found herself face to face with one of the most statuesque people that she had ever met as she was cleared.

"Yes, I assure you, I am actually Captain Enalia Telvan and a joined Trill. You need to make sure you have emergency procedures in place for a symbiont just in case."

"Your condition has been noted. Please stand by and Maenek t'Luin will be with you at her earliest convenience." She wasn't sure if he believed her or not, but he finally made a note of it and moved on.

Enalia just shook her head and walked over to Rita and Sonak who were dealing with their own hard to read Rihannsu. "I've met Vulcans that were easier to read. Then again, in our line of work that's a good trait to have."

"I would have thought they would be more fluid in deception and emotional manipulation, but it's like the prevalent culture is to betray nothing. It's like they emulate the straight face of Vulcans, but only to not give anything away about their emotional states. Rather than lacking emotions, they hide behind stoic masks." Rita paused, shaking her head. "That was from a treatise I now know without having read before, which is odd and crazy and kind of cool I must admit. But the point seems valid- they just seem aloof, or is it me?"

''The assessment is accurate,'' the Vulcan chief science officer answered. ''Which is fortunate for me as I have no capability to even simulate their emotions. Reverting to my pre-Starfleet Kolinarh monk attitude should however allow me to approximate this... aloofness you are referring to, without giving away my true Vulcan heritage.''

Turning him into a Romulan has been the easiest job. He only needed some cosmetic surgery to enhance his brow to the current Rihansuu norm, refrain from exhibiting too much of his higher gravity enhanced strength and that was about it. A few thousand years was not enough to bring forth much physiological differences between the now native Vulcans and the offspring of their long-ago self-exiled dissidents. It would take a competent physician or geneticist to unmask him.

Hearing the conversation Thex wandered over to the group. She'd been reading over her own PaDD of the procedure she'd be getting. Holo emitters implanted just below her antenna to hide them, her hair dyed with a compound to make it brown along with skin augmentation to make her blue skin more Romulan. Then there was the eye and ear modifications she'd have to have done. A lot of work to make a girl from Andor into a faux Romulan. She should ask for a photo to send to her thavan to see the look on his face.

She couldn't help but feel out of place among all her altered crewmates. Still, she had a few minutes before she had to go and get prepped herself. " So how's everyone holding up?" She politely asked her friends.

"The ears are kind of neat," Rita chimed in. "I've always wondered what they were like, and now I know. The hair is distracting, but at least I'm not sweeping it our of my eyes every other minute. Otherwise, I feel pretty much the same, although I suppose I'll have to come up with a uniform and a rank and cover story. But as I recall, we have some time."

"How about you? We could just fit you with a holo-emitter and not bring you down to the planet, Thex. You don't have to go through all of this." The friendly first officer was worried- making blue girls green seemed like a lot of work and pain when it wasn't entirely necessary.

"And all it would take is one random Tal'Shiar intern with a disruption satellite and I pop out of existence and the party's in trouble. I'd rather go through the full measure to minimize chances." Thex replied calmly though inside she was nervous as hell.

''A wise assessment, '' Sonak stated in response. ''I recall one Human figure of state, several centuries ago, saying; you can fool everyone for a time, you can fool some people all the time but you can never ever fool everyone all the time. We should keep this in mind as we proceed with this high-risk operation.''

Looking across the room, Ensign Varnok was tapping his own holographic emitter and muttering to himself, "This does not bode well.

Thinking, It would be so much easier if the surgical alterations were more feasible on his Cardassian anatomy. But with the thick cabling of his neck tendons, which contained multiple blood vessels and nerve clusters, it had been determined to be too risky. And on further thought, he wasn't too sure he liked the idea of being turned into a Romulan, even cosmetically. There was a lot more than water under that bridge.

Turning on the holo emitter that created a remarkably realistic illusion of what he would look like as a Romulan, the young Cardassian looked at himself in a nearby mirror, shook his head in disbelief and immediately turned it off. 

Glancing up at the approaching Romulan nurse, he gave her a small smile when he realized she had been watching him. The young woman had been pleasant and he didn't want to dissuade her kindness with his current conflicted mood. 

Meanwhile, Az'Prel needed no real cosmetics to begin with - her other universe genes already gave her a closely matched DNA and visual profile and she already had a backstory and accent to work off of. She even had a uniform ready. Hence when she walked into the medbay she barely looked out of place, though the Starfleet comm badge did look a bit odd on her Imperial Navy uniform.

As the crewmembers of the Hera talked amongst themselves and the few Rihannsu medical personnel gave them cursory scans, the ships Commander and Master Surgeon, Maenek Helev t'Liun stepped in, her face buried in a PaDD for a moment. 

Reviewing the information, the woman in the Military uniform of a Rihannsu Commander and a short-cropped haircut looked up and around the room taking a mental inventory of the new transfers to her care from the Hera. Spotting the Captain, looking very much the part of a Rihannsu Commander herself with cosmetic alterations already complete, t'Liun stepped over and offered a light bow to the woman who was both a Captain and her Queen as a member of the Artan fleet.

"Jolan'tru, Captain. I thank you again for accommodating my concerns in such a fashion. My medical crew and I are quite adept at serving the needs of many races, as often is required in the fleet, but the more information we have on the unique biological needs of each of the transferred crewmembers, the better we can do our jobs." t'Liun said, a hint of unexpected nervousness in her voice standing before the newly crowned Queen of the Artans.

"Jolan'tru, Maenek. We are in your care for the duration of this mission." Enalia offered a slight bow of her head in greeting - something that she rarely offered to her own Baronesses, let alone one of their captains or crew. It was often taken as a sign of favor or deep trust and that's what she hoped for in this case, even across the racial barriers. After all, she had her family's role to consider as well and she knew everyone aboard would be watching her closely as the newly crowned heir to the Artan throne. "I trust that all arrangements have already been made for billeting and storage of our equipment."

"Ie, Captain." t'Liun replied, getting her nerve back. "Commander Paris has reviewed and approved the crew quarter assignments. Equipment, both personal and mission-specific has been placed appropriately, as has the medical requirements. We have a state-of-the-art symbiont stasis chamber prepared and on standby in the event of any unforeseeable emergencies and I had my staff replicating species-specific plasma and fluids to have on hand. I have also scheduled the remaining surgical procedures required for Master Engineer sh'Zorahi and will be attending that as needed."

Taking a moment, the ships Master Surgeon and Commander turned to the Hera's Chief Engineer, "Master Engineer sh'Zorahi, bed 3 in bay 2 is ready for the rest of your procedure. I will be in to attend you in a moment."

Thex nodded before looking back at her friends. " I'll see you in minute guys. " She said politely before following the Romulan nurse.

"Also," The Medical commander added, returning her attention to Captain Telvan, "My communications officer is scanning to monitor for any transmissions from the subspace comm frequencies provided during your interrogation of the traitors. Thus far, both Warbirds seem to be maintaining transmission silence."

"That's to be expected. I expect their mission to be as secretive as ours is so tracking them down and planning our rescue efforts from this point on will be a race against time as well as stealth." Enalia clasped her hands behind her back and deliberated the issue in her mind a moment. "We might have to see if we have allies in the area as well."

“That would likely be prudent. The Baroness has a number of agents placed on the planet, but none in positions that give them government access and none that can be communicated with directly. They generally send coded briefings off-world with smuggled Kali-Fal and the like.” t’Liun said with a quizzical look on her own face. "Nothing useful in our instance."

As they talked, the doors slid open again and the ship's second-in-command came rushing in with a PaDD in his hand. Looking frantically about the chamber for an instant, his eyes locked on t’Liun. “Riov… uh… Maenek! I apologize for the interruption, but this is urgent!”

Handing the Rihannsu Commander the PaDD, he added, “A secure transmission from the Hera on the emergency sub-space frequency market urgent.”

Looking at the PaDD a second, t’Liun’s eyebrows went up and she looked over to the assemblage of crewmembers from the Hera. “Captain, Commander Paris, this is from your Yeoman Dedjoy. She says it’s a coded message she received from Agent Dox.”

Enalia glanced to her first officer before nodding to the Maenek. "From a master of ciphers to a master of seeing patterns, if she's found a way to slip her captors. Let's hear it then."

On the screen was a fuzzy, dark video image of Jaeih Dox. There were no visual cues of where she was or what her condition was as the only light source in the scene seemed to come from whatever device was recording it.

=^=“I haven’t much time. They are taking Mnhei’sahe to a highly secure Tal’Shiar facility called the Delevhas Compound in the province of Oh'hayo. We are onboard a Warbird called the People’s Will. It was under the command of Mnhei’sahe’s grandmother, the Senator Verelan t’Rul, who was responsible for the initial kidnapping. However, her goals were not… severe enough for High Command, it seems, and the ship and mission been taken over by Commander Dalia Rendal. She has quite the grudge against the Hera regarding the Starbase 336 incident and is actively seeking to pry from my daughter’s mind everything she knows about Protomatter weapons. I have encoded the ship's transponder frequency, course, and ETA to ch’Rihan.”

“I have… escaped from my own cell, but I am not your priority here. Find Mnhei’sahe and I shall find you in the process. You swore to me that you would do everything in your power to protect my daughter from exactly this, Enalia. I shall hold you to that either in this life or the next.”=^=

Then the video went black and the screen, instead, began displaying the data Jaieh mentioned. Transponder codes, The planetary coordinates of the Delevhas Compound and more. As the information came up on the screen, t'Liun had an almost shocked expression as she muttered to herself. "By the Elements, how did she get this message off the ship and we not even pick up a transmission?"

Sonak had been examining the making of the message itself and thus had an answer ready.

''The message was piggybacked within an inconspicuous unsecured transmission band; apparently a navigation signal. The inserted message was too lowkey to be noticeable, especially with state of the art equipment looking for sophisticated covert transmissions, not low band antiquated video signals. Hence the lack of detail and quality... and why it succeeded in reaching us.''

Enalia thought it over a moment before adding to the theory. "Normally, a warbird wouldn't have any unsecured transmissions... But if there's a Senator aboard, they'd have their transponder on just in case. Good thinking, Sonak. Maenek, I assume the Imperial Navy still tunes their engines to blend in with background radiation while cloaked. If so, that's exactly where they've hidden their transponder signals, but she would need access to the bridge..."

Then another thought struck the Artan Queen and a slow grin spread across her face. "That sly fox. I bet she's hiding out on the Senator's personal shuttle. It's the only way she could get access to an identical senate transponder to send a signal they wouldn't notice. I'm pretty sure any other sort of emissions would be noticed."

''A logical assumption, Captain,'' Sonak agreed. ''A video wave can only travel at the speed of light; significantly too slow to have any hope to reach anyone in time, thus judged irrelevant to be checked for. But embedded within a transponder signal, then it is carried through subspace at warp 9.9997, undetected unless specifically looked for.''

"Leave it to Mrs. Dox to give us a fighting chance," Paris added with a grin, shaking her head before looking around at the assembled officers. "From here we craft a plan. We need intelligence on this base they're being taken to, we need a route in and out, we need to be able to time this to make it work then make our getaway without the whole of the Star Empire's fleet on our tails. And we have 4 days to do all that, work it out and make sure we have contingencies for our contingencies."

"What do you say, people- let's go rescue our wayward waylaid shipmates."

The extended babysitting of Minerva Carrott, the baby minotaur who had been adopted after her mother died in childbirth by the R&D nurse and his pregnant wife, had spent a number of days that had extended now into more than a week. Which meant that the tyke had become part of the unlikely duo of Gavarus and O’Dell’s daily lives, and both had adapted to it surprisingly well.

Both women came from large families, which made them well-prepared for the duty. Gavarus had many younger siblings, so she had helped raise them. While O’Dell was the baby of her family, but she had been enlisted to care for her elderly father, which was babysitting of a similar yet different sort. But both women could change a diaper in their sleep, which both had done of late. Trading out for feeding times was established, and given that neither was a selfish woman, the duties had been shared and thus the burden eased.

Now they all lay together in the large bed in Gavarus quarters. Minnie, as she was often called, was sleeping on her back, not snoring but still making slight wheezing noises when she slept which they had been assured was to be natural. Curled protectively about her, although only a little more than three times her size, was O’Dell, the mop of crimson curls which made her so readily identifiable if her short stature and slender build did not. Then wrapped around them both was the form of Gavarus, making the largest spoon, with an arm draped protectively across O’Dell, and her large three-fingered hand resting across Minnie's sleeping form.

This had become de rigeur, and none of them seemed to be complaining about it.

Mrs. Carrott’s labor with her own baby had extreme complications, and the odd couple of the midget Mariposian and the towering Tellarite had taken to caring for the babe left somewhat at odds in the situation. Now, after the time spent together, O’Dell already knew it was going to break gavarus’ heart when they had to return the little bundle of hooves and drool to her rightful parents. Both of them doted on the infant, both of them enjoyed caring for her, and it had awakened in both of them feelings which neither had anticipated, yet were not unwelcomed. While they were far from a conventional couple, and they certainly seemed like the last people anyone would choose to be parents, it had been fulfilling for both of them to have the infant in their lives.

They still took her to the pub, carried her with them when singing karaoke and even brought her to work in the R&D department with them. So while children were often a disruption on the lives of couples, in this case, baby Minerva had flowed seamlessly into their lives as just another addition to their troublemaking, or ‘shenanigans’, as O’Dell liked to say.

Lying in bed, feeling the heavy breathing of her partner at her back and the gentle breathing of their infant charge, O’Dell knew it was going to break her own heart to give the infant up as well. Both of them were emotional and passionate, and neither of them tended to let people in emotionally, after years of experiences had taught them that most did not want to know others below what was seen on the surface. But the barnyard baby had touched their hearts, and for the first time in her life, O’Dell felt maternal leanings. The desire to see the child grow, learn, achieve and accomplish. To protect her and keep her safe. To be a part of their odd coupling, as a family.

Just considering letting Minnie go brought tears to the emerald eyes of the daredevil test pilot, and she continued doing her best not to consider the possibility.

Because as bad as it would be for her, it would be that much worse for Gavarus, who adored the child and had cheerfully spoiled her as a doting aunt would, lavishing her with gifts and toys designed to stimulate her mind and keep her body active. O’Dell could see it as clear as day, and she worried how she would keep her bosom buddy in good cheer when there was a baby minotaur-sized hole in their lives.

Given her physicality, O’Dell was reasonably certain that she could not bear children. She’d never properly entered puberty, after all. So while the parts might be in place, more than likely most of them had never been given the activation signal to go into overdrive and make her body fertile. Gavarus was fully adult and grown, but Fiona somehow doubted briar wanted to experience carrying a child, nor labor, nor not drinking while she did it.

Aside from the complexities of a humanoid and a Tellarite attempting to crossbreed- a frizzy, redheaded pig girl with a dense Gaelic accent and pale skin somehow just seemed not quite right in O’Dell’s mind, and she couldn’t see it happening. So here she lay, holding the child that was already too dear to them both, encircled and protected by her partner in crime, making her feel safe.

The concept of losing the babe kept her awake, though, and she tried not to dwell on that thought as she could not escape it.


****************************

I do NOT want frickin' KIDS! Briaar thought to herself as she lay in bed, her thick arm draped act the both of them while Minnie slept. The temperamental Tellarite's mind was going far too fast to sleep and she could tell Fiona was still awake too.

Not just because the miniature Maraposian practically purred like a cat when she slept, but because she breathed differently. When Fiona slept, Briaar could feel the difference. No, Fiona was awake too. But little Minnie was out like a light and Briaar wasn't going to do anything to disturb her.

What the frickin' hells is wrong with me? I don't want kids. I've never wanted kids. Sixteen brothers and sisters was WAY enough for me. To say nothing of almost getting COOKED in the engine room a few days ago. It's insane! So why can't I shut my stupid damn brain up? Briaar protested against her own head as she tried to stop thinking about the impossible baby Minotaur between her and Fiona in bed. About the tiny hooves that she constantly wanted to play with or the tiny, three-fingered hand so much like her own that she looked and saw still clutching a bit of Fiona's thick curls. About her giggling smile that cracked through her worst bad moods like a photon torpedo through an unshielded hull.

The portly Porcine nuzzled up tighter, resting her cheek against little Minerva's fuzzy face and smiled. Why did she feel so good around her? She had already been dealing with her complicated feelings for Fiona and now, it was just like a foregone conclusion in her head that the three of them were meant to be together and it almost made her angry to think about not Minnie.

"Shit." She muttered as quietly as she could, letting out a sigh as she did.

Without a word, Fiona rose from the bed, padded across the room then replicated two bottles of beer for them. Padding back across the bedroom, the thin-limbed carrot-top deftly avoided the piles of engine parts, bottles and baby toys littering the floor. Climbing back in bed, she handed one of the beers to her porcine partner as she acknowledged that neither of them was asleep. Laying sideways across the bed, O’Dell propped her upper body up against the greater mass of Gavarus' barrel gut, which enabled them to be close without disturbing their dozing charge.

“Yuir thinking aboot Minnie, aren’t ye?” It was phrased as a question, but it was clear from her bleary-eyed acceptance that it was merely a statement of fact. Spoken quietly enough not to wake their wee precious bundle, yet loudly enough for the sensitive ears of the space pig to hear.

Letting out the slightest of sighs, Briaar took a sip of her beer and looked at the tiny child in the bed with them. "I can't NOT, Fee. I mean... Doc Power's gonna clear Amy and the new baby medically eventually. And then what? It frickin' sucks. I already can't sleep unless you're here... I don't... I don't know what I'm gonna do."

“We, Briaar. We’re a ‘we’ now, remember?” Fiona gently chided her gruff galpal, then took a swig of her beer. “I know, I nivvir wanted kids- there, I said it. I’m damn near a child meself, and the last thing I’d want to do is pass on my own wretched inbred genes to some poor waif. Plus there’s the fact that tis 02:13, and we’re drinkin’ beer because we’re both awake. There’s nunna that what lends itself to us being in charge of anybody’s life. Hell, we’re lousy at managing our own, forget aboot a bebe.”

“Yet…” Reaching over, O’Dell softly stroked the tummy fur of the miniature minotaur, who giggled in her sleep, then farted.

"Oh, gods DAMN, Minnie moo..." Briaar whispered as she scrunched her extremely sensitive, porcine snout. "Okay, note for the future. No salsa for her yet... that was a tactical error."

Then she looked down at O'Dell and smiled, "But yeah. I don't know what we're gonna do, Fee. I mean, I lost my Tribble in my closet and thought it had gotten out of the room an' died! But I... I... @#$%, I don't want to let her go, Fee."

“Ah know, Briaar, I knoooow,” the midget Mariposian sighed. “Auntie privileges are all good and fine, but… I’ve grown accustomed to her face, ye know? The way she scrunches up her big pink nose when she’s aboot to drop a diaperload. The way she gurgles after dinner, or that squeaky noise she makes when ye tickle her tummy. Or that ‘rawr' noise she makes when ye put her up on yuir shoulders and she thinks she’s Jablonski…”

The pixie pilot’s voice cracked a bit at that, and she sniffled. “I nivvir wanted to be a parent, briar, but look at her. She’s so damn cute and precious and innocent… I dinno know what we’re g’win ta do if we lose her. I’m tryin’ nae ta think aboot it, but pog me thoin….” Tears rolled down the pale cheeks of the little lass, who was trying to keep a lid on it and failing miserably. As evidenced by the fact that her lilting brogue was getting thicker by the word, and she was straying into Gaelic now.

Listening, Briaar didn't quite know what to do. As much as it hurt her to think about letting Minnie go, it hurt her more to hear that same pain in Fiona's voice, so, she put the beer on the nightstand behind her and scooched up slightly in bed so that one arm was up over little Minnie, and the other could hold on to Fiona's shoulder.

But between the no longer quite whispers, Briaar's shuffling and Fiona's fresh tears, the miniature minotaur stirred and rolled on her side to tuck into Briaar's chest as she cooed and her bleary eyes cracked open. And with a gurgling, rolling sound that wasn't quite a 'moo' and wasn't quite a burp, she began scooching in place to turn downward in the bed towards Fiona.

Once turned around, she proceeded to inadvertently stick a tiny hoof in Briaar's snout, while pulling herself up and over Fiona's face with wide, slightly confused looking eyes. The tiny tot then proceeded to rub her fuzzy little hands on Fiona's damp cheeks.

“Ah love ye too, yeh wee barnyard bairn,” Fiona sniffled out, stroking the fine silken locks atop the bovine baby’s head. “Shhhh, s’alreet, s’alreet. S’joost thet yuir auntie Fiona is a sentimental sot and yuir auntie Briaar is nae mooch better, and twixt the both of us we’ve only been watchin’ ye for a fortnight, I canna imagine not seein yuir wee moo cow face aboot. No, I canna.”

Heaving the youngster more onto her lap so she would quit kicking Briaar in the snout, Fiona held the little one tenderly. “Bloody hell and damnation, we’re no parents, Gavarus. We’re drunken louts who pick fights and are always one step ahead of a court-martial. For fooksake, we used a Banshee to move a pregnant woman. We’re irresponsible, juvenile, inebriated…”

"I don't give a shit. All those shit-ass excuses didn't matter when we were deciding to... be... ya' know... together. And it's working. And... dammit." Briaar was starting to sniff loudly as her snout was rapidly filling up and her eyes were watering and a deep frown cut into her thick cheeks. 

Reaching back over, Briaar grabbed her beer and took a long swig. "We would, wouldn't we? We'd... we'd mess her up, wouldn't we?"

At that, Fiona frowned. While she started to answer, she stopped herself, frowned some more, then turned to look at the sleepy infant cowgirl. Looking back up, her eyes sought out Gavarus'. Shaking her head slightly, a sad smile settled onto Fiona's face. "Nae, Briaar. Lookit her. She's had a bath today, a dozen diaper changes I'd wager, seven feedings and another one comin' if she doesn't doze off soo... which you wanna do doncha yessss ye do, at's right, sleeepy sleepy..."

Looking back up at the Starfleet swine, the moppet nodded, her brows knitting. "But we're doin it. She's clean, she fed, she's cared for. We're nae messin it oop, and when one of us stumbles the other's there to catch and run. We come from big families, we know how to do this. We're takin' good care of her." Turning her gaze back to the toddler passing out in her lap, Fiona cracked a grin.

"As fuir messin her oop, there are no perfect parents. Everybody inflicts their damage on their kids in one way or t'other. But so long as there's love, who cares? Apologize for it later, buy 'em a pint and ye kin all git over it. Everybody does the best they can. Some may be great, some may joost suck ass. But everybody's parents give 'em issues. This one would be a damned barfly since she was in diapers, so that'd likely lead to issues. But better that than beatin' her or bein' passive-aggressive, aye?"

"Cuz ye and me, we're nae that kinda people. We'd ne'er do that to each other, and we dinna do it to others neither. We joost demand service of the wait staff, But that's their jobs, aye? But we'd nae mess oop a kid... see, lookit 'er." Sprawled across the lap of O'Dell, a stray lock of her curls wrapped in one tiny fist, the bovine babe finally succumbed to sleep, and she slipped from consciousness with a contented sigh.

Looking down, Briar couldn't help but smile at how ridiculously adorable both Minnie and Fiona were laying there. Nothing about the bizarre grouping there made sense on paper, but she was happier than she had ever remembered being and that had to mean something. "I guess. I mean... she's just so... she's happy, I think. And... I'm happy. And... I mean... if all we ever get to be with her are her cool aunts, I can be happy with that as long as she's happy. Then we can be, like, the coolest aunts, right? Even if I'm greedy and want more, ya' know."

“That’s what I’m sayin, Briaar. Maybe... I mean not right now, although…” Fiona was a bit tangled in her own words, and she took a big swallow of beer before continuing. “I’d like… I want to ask the Carrotts if we could adopt Minerva"

Letting the shock from that settle in for a few seconds, the daredevil damsel pressed on in a rush of words. "I know we’re the worst candidates and all, but… she’s got a piece of me heart, and I dinna know if I can bear to lose her, aye? And ye canna deny it, you too. I see the way ye look at her. S’same way ye look at me when I’m asleep.” Owning the admission, Fiona gently stroked the furry baby’s tummy, even as she looked up at Gavarus hopefully.

Flumping her head back in the bed, Briaar groaned in an exaggerated fashion. "Fee... you can't be... Oh my gods. Are you seriously thinking that we could? That's just..." Then, letting out a long, long sigh, she looked down to reveal that her eyes were tearing up. "That is the stupidest thing I've ever heard and... yeah... yeah... I want to, too."

Then her face scrunched as she took a swig of beer. "Wait, what? How the hell do you know how I look when I'm looking at you when you're asleep?"

“Dinna be daft, there’s sensor logs. And I think it’s absolutely one of the most precious things in the universe, the expression on yuir face when ye’re watchin me sleep. It’s sweet, Briaar.,” Fiona reached out and ran her small, delicate, pale fingers over the bristles on her cheeks and chin Gavarus shaved every morning. Indisposed like this, she did not shy away nor shrink from her partner’s imperfections and flaws, but embraced them. ”It shows me how much ye care, and that I make ye happy. And ye look at wee baby Minnie Moo the same way. Ye love the wee bundle of manure and mischief, and so do I. So… why not us?”

"You watch me watch you on the sensor logs? Fee, that's both sweet as @#$% and kinda creepy." Briaar snorted out a light chuckle, blushing slightly at the tiny redhead's touch. Then her face got that expression it did whenever she hit a wall at work or couldn't solve a problem.

It was the face Briaar had worn during half of the subspace call trying to talk to her judgmental mother. The look of someone who was so terrified of failing that she was afraid to try. And it was an expression Fiona recognized on her porcine partner all too well. Looking down, Briaar scrunched her face and ran her free hand through Minnie's hair and sighed. "The Carrots... they'll never... He WORKS with us... he knows I'm a colossal screw-up."

“Aye, that ye are. But yuir also kind, generous, good-hearted, and capable. Ye’re a hell of an engineer, a brave friend and while we’re both slovenly sailors, we dinna make a bad parenting team, aye?” At that, Minnie farted, which was quickly realized by both women to not be a fart at all. Looking up at Gavarus blearily, O’Dell sighed. "You get the diaper bag, I’ll get her started…”

Kicking her considerable girth up, Briaar rolled off the bed with a grunt and trotted over to the diaper bag sitting on the counter next to the sink and brought it over to the bed while Fiona was already quickly working. "So, I got some notes from the Chief and turns out Minnie fuzz ain't much different from the down floof her kids are probably gonna have… unless they're more Romulan and all just come out with pointy-ass bangs… so I replicated these… kind of baby chamois ass wipes. It kinda gets into the hairs to pull off the shit without pulling her hairs. Check it."

As she spoke, Briaar was quickly disassembling the bag and getting everything out, including the Miradonian ass-chamois.

“See? Already planning ahead, getting’ ready because ye know the Chief’s gonna have us looking after her chicks,” O’Dell bumped against the hip of the big pig woman appreciatively. “Fie on what the universe thinks, Briaar. I think ye’ll make a great mum, and that’s a fact.”

“Assuming we survive this… lairdamercy, Minnie, me eyeballs are meltin!”

"Oh, sweet evil what died in you, Minnie?" Briaar said, trying to cover her snout with one hand while holding up her little hooves with the other so Fiona could pull away the biohazardous diaper. "I mean... yeah, we can do this stuff... Gods, my mom is gonna have an aneurysm if we go through with this, Fee."

While they worked, Minnie was inexplicably bouncing between actively snoring and giggling, somehow not being quite asleep as her intended moms changed her.

"All the better reason to do it, Briaar me mate..."

In the ancillary Medical bay of the Rihannsu vessel, the ‘Golden Ghost’ that the crew of the Hera was currently on board as part of their plan to rescue their kidnapped crewmembers, Lieutenant Mnhei’sahe Dox and her mother, Jaeih, the ships commander and ‘Master Surgeon’, Maenek Helev t’Liun, stepped in wrapping a pale white gown around herself.

The Maenek, or ‘Doctor’ in her native language, was taller than not and had a short-cropped haircut that accentuated her wide-set, almond-shaped green eyes, unusual for a ‘Romulan’ woman. She walked past the second bed in the much smaller room where sat the Hera’s Chief Engineer and Second Officer, Lieutenant Commander Thex sh’Zorathi. The young Andorian officer had been instructed to report there for the remainder of her surgery to complete her visual transformation into the approximation of a Romulan woman herself for the upcoming infiltration mission.

Due to the massive amount of work required to keep the Hera from flying apart leading to the rendezvous and eventual transfer to the Golden Ghost, Thex had only had time to begin her surgical transformation. On the Hera, the Permanent Medical Hologram, Dr. Powers, had state-of-the-art Holo emitters implanted just below her antenna to hide them. Her usually stark white hair was dyed with a compound to make it brown along with skin augmentation to make her blue skin more Romulan. But there was more to be completed, and it would need to be completed here on the Ghost.

“Master Engineer sh’Zorathi,” The Maenek bowed slightly as she washed her hands, using the more formal version of Thex’s title as it was said on Rihannsu, or Romulan, ships, “It is a pleasure to formally meet you. I am Maenek Helev t’Liun and I shall be performing the remaining procedures required for this mission. Have you any questions?”

Thex was feeling nervous at all of this. She was already feeling very odd looking at herself and not seeing any antenna on her forehead. She knew they were there and could even feel them, but with nothing their she was getting a phantom limb feeling. Still, she'd do it to rescue her friend.

She gave the Romulan a polite smile before speaking. " It's nice to meet you as well doctor. Could you run through everything that still needs to be done before we get started?" She asked politely.

Stepping over, the Rihannsu Doctor slipped a pair of blue gloves on as she began eyeing the Andorian’s existing work with a critical eye. “Actually, your blue blood pigmentation may work in our favor here as it’s not as dramatically as different from green as red is and altering the color of your blood would both take up to two weeks, be quite unpleasant and harder to reverse. Yes, the caruncles in your inner eyes are less noticeable.”

The doctor pointed to the vestigial remnants of the Rihannsu second eyelid that mirrored similar structures in most bipedal lifeforms in the quadrant as she spoke. “Your doctor’s pigment alteration was satisfactory, but I would like to reinforce that with a slight thickening. This would make concerns over issues like blushing less of a concern. Your ears look… yes, augmentation should be a simple enough procedure. You have quite high, Rihannsu cheekbones, which will make the entire affair that much more successful, I would think.”

“I would recommend a subdermal forehead application. While the Baroness Dox and her mother may represent the approximate 25 percent of the Rihannsu population that does not possess the prominent ridging, it would raise fewer questions concerning your alterations in the mission.” t’Liun added, “Though that is up to you.”

Thex nodded as she listened to what was still going to be done to her. Everything seemed simple enough. " I'll take the forehead application doctor. How long will all of this take?"

“Excellent.” t’Liun commented, “A lesser doctor might take no more than an hour. I plan, however, to be quite through and this might take at least twice that. There is something of an art to this, as well. And I also have the DNA transponder provided by your own people to mask your own signal that will need to be placed subcutaneously. But that's a simple injection.”

"However, if you wish to be conscious is up to you. Regardless, you will feel minimal discomfort either way.” The doctor added, touching the Andorian’s ear, looking it over as she did. "Have you completed the neural language training program already?"

Thex gave a slight nod of her head as she allowed the doctor to investigate her head. " Yes, I have. I already knew a little of the Romulan language from a few previous assignments. " She said thinking back to her time gutting found Romulan stealth probes on the USS Firebird. " I'd like to remain conscious as well."

“That will be ideal. Your being awake means I can get direct feedback on each addition. If you could lay back on the bed, we can begin.” The doctor stepped over to the small side table and began pulling out various tools that would be required. “Although, if you will forgive my impertinence, I would recommend avoiding the term ‘Romulan’ among my people. Many of us that believe in the old ways are… not comfortable with the label that the predecessors of the Federation gave the Rihannsu people.

" Understood. " Thex said apologetically as she leaned back on the bed.

"It is no worry, Master Engineer. Few of my people will express their discomfort. It is not our way, generally." The Maenek said in a more gentle tone, picking up on Thex's apologetic tone. As she did, she lowered a scanning rig into position that locked around the Andorian's face and head. "First, some detailed scans of your existing structure. We must make sure we have all the information we need to restore you as needed once this mission is complete."

The last comment was made with the hint of a smile on the hard-to-read Rihannsu doctor as she pulled out a hypo-spray. "This will manage any pain during the procedures and has been balanced to your unique biochemistry. There will also be a stasis field in place that will limit your movement. You will still be able to speak and emote as necessary. Is this acceptable? This procedure will be slightly more invasive for you that it was for your Captain and First Officer and your discomfort likely greater. I wish to ensure your full consent before we begin."

" You have my consent doctor. " Thex said as she breathed in a few times. " Have you actually ever done this to Andorian before?" She asked.

A somewhat awkward expression came over the Doctor's face as she replied. "Technically, no. Not this specific procedure. I have, however..." Then she paused and trailed off as she was clearly pondering her words.

"I have done the reverse. And done so a bit more... permanently. During my time with the Rihannsu Government... before my Baroness liberated me... I performed a number of procedures designed to convert Rihannsu deep cover assets into a variety of other races. It required far more than the cosmetic alterations we shall be managing. I've moved organs, restructured genetic material to recolor blood. I have... for lack of a better term... constructed Andorians... to spy on your people. It is not... not my proudest accomplishment, but should speak to my qualifications."

Composing herself, t'Liun looked down at the Chief Engineer. "So, a few cosmetic alterations and the overlay of a DNA patch to fool Rihannsu sensors is of no concern. Which begs the question, I suppose, of if I still have your consent, all things considered."

Thex was silent for a second before she ran what the doctor had just said in her mind. That was both terrifying and amazing at the same time. " Yes, you have my consent doctor. I'm not going to chicken out when one of my friends is in danger."

Nodding slightly, t'Liun picked up a dermal regeneration tool and replied. "Your crew... has displayed great mnhei'sahe... great honor. I shall endeavor to match such in my work. Fear not."

" I'm sure you will doctor. I just hope Dox is holding up. " The Andorian said as she let the doctor do her thing.

“If she is half the woman I saw before the Captain’s Tribunal... then she will.” From there, the skilled Rihannsu Doctor went to work. The procedures were fairly complex as the Master Surgeon insisted on doing it right. Her work was going to be scrutinized by the Tal’Shiar, after all, and she insisted on being thorough. Micro blood vessels were extended and incorporated into reshaped ears to give them proper blood flow. The brow was built up by replicating Thex’s own cartilege and the new tissue was seamlessly integrated into the existing facial structure. Chemical treatments thickened the Andorian’s skin ever so slightly and increased the olive tint to obscure her own still-blue blood.

All procedures that would be straightforward enough to be reversible, but also detailed and thorough enough for someone to look the Andorian Engineer over closely and see nothing but a Rihannsu woman. And with the DNA overlay transponder installed, all but the most advanced sensors would return the biological data of a Rihannsu woman.

After approximately an hour and forty-five minutes, Maenek t’Liun administered a hypo to reverse the effects of the prior one and slowly returned the no longer blue Lieutenant Commander to full mobility. “You will be slightly light-headed for a moment, but it should pass quickly. Sit up on your own speed.”

As the doctor began to clean up, she pulled down a mid-sized mirror on an arm from the wall panel behind the operating table and put the handle in reach of Thex.

Thex blinked a few times at the stranger staring back at her from the mirror. True she could see the resemblance, but it was like looking at a distant daughter of her bloodline. " I'm impressed, doctor. I can still see me, but it's like looking at someone else. "

"Then I have done my job well, I would hope." The Doctor replied with the slightest hint of a smile. "I did, however, need to adjust the Rihannsu DNA transponder signal slightly as you appear to have a DNA patch of some sort that needed to be masked. Is this something you're aware of?"

" Yeah, I know a bit about it though I wish I knew more. It's a dna patch to stop my reproductive organs shutting down so early in my life that I got from one of my ancestors." Thex explained. " Where they got it from appears to be a mystery no one knows."

The curious doctor seemed a bit more engaged at the mystery. "I only did a cursory scan to see what I was having to work around, but the coding was intensely detailed. I have... I have re-written DNA before at the Daire'eri Docgae'elh research station as a part of the aforementioned work, but that was far beyond anything we were doing. Have you experienced any..."

As she spoke, t'Liun stopped herself and shook her head with a slight look of irritation with herself. "My apologies, Master sh'Zoarhi. I was letting my scientific curiosity override my manners concerning a personal matter."

" It's okay. Every doctor who sees it comments on it. I only wish I knew were it came from." Thex replied calmly having been through the talk with doctors about her patch many at times before.

"As it is, I can likely be of no assistance in that regard. However, I have the initial scan data and can assure you my own curiosity is piqued. If I come across any clues, I will immediately to inform you." T'Liun added, picking up a long plastic stylus as she did and bringing it up to Thex's ear.

Poking the tips slightly, she watched the Andorian for reactions. "Excellent. Nerve connections seem to be strong. Are you feeling this normally?"

" Yeah, I can feel it though I can't really say it's normal for my ears to now be pointed," Thex replied with a slight grin on her face.

With a light chuckle, the first such heard from the generally reserved doctor, t'Liun smirked lightly as she replaced the stylus on the tray with the other equipment for cleaning and storage as she shut down the station. "No, I would say I would feel quite unusual as well to be missing my own."

Then, the Rihannsu doctor's tone returned to a more sober one. "That said, may they serve you well in your tasks ahead as it has been my pleasure to serve, Master sh'Zorathi. A great wrong has been committed against one who is friend and crewmate to you and Baroness to me. May the Elements be with you."

" Thank you doctor t'Liun. We'll get Dox back and make sure who kidnapped her regrets it." Thex said slowly standing up as the feeling returned to her legs.

It had been yet another long night on the Romulan Warbird, ‘The People’s Will’ for Lieutenant Mnhei’sahe Dox. One more out of almost a month's worth that were now behind the emotionally and physically exhausted young Lieutenant. This last night, however, was a fraction easier. Compared with the cold metal chair she had been shackled to for a week in the brig, the lightly padded bed in the ‘VIP’ quarters she had been returned to was an immense improvement. As was access to a sonic shower and a protein replicator that enabled her to regain some measure of physical strength.

All of this thanks to the ‘generosity’ of Riov Dalia Rendal, who seemed to now hope to soften Mnhei’sahe up into accepting some kind of compromise. Of course, this was all because when it had finally been time to place the red-headed Rihannsu woman in the Neural Extraction Converter and reprogram her into a loyal daughter of ch’Rihan, she had not only successfully resisted the machine, but broke it in the process.

Unfortunately, they had successfully pulled from her mind a cosmic key that could lead them to the location of the Titan, Gaia. Information that was hidden in her mind by the goddess among goddesses when the two were merged months ago that Mnhei’sahe didn’t even know was there. But that information was on shattered computers, so they still needed the young Starfleet officer alive, and apparently well, if they were going to convince her to help them further.

Then there was the matter of the unexpected hurdle Rendal needed to try and deal with regarding what appeared to be the death of Mnhei'sahe's mother, Jaeih Dox. Seemingly disintegrated in an escape attempt, though Dox was unsure if her mother was truly gone. Rendal knew she had to work even harder now if she was going to get any cooperation out of the furious Starfleet officer. But the royal Riov was clearly determined to try.

For now, Dox had awoken on her own in the mid-sized room and took advantage of the gilding that her cage had been given to try and sway her. She had showered and eaten and gotten dressed in the partial Rihannsu uniform left for her. Then, she walked over to the small desk with the computer on it that had been used by her Grandmother, Senator Verelan t'Rul, for weeks to try and tutor her on Rihannsu culture, politics, and history. And there she sat and waited.

After a while, the door chime sounded before the door opened and in walked Rendal.

"Jolan'tru, Miss Dox. As you destroyed our only way to modify your grandmother's programming, I am here to offer my own services as tutor. It is my hope that we are able to function together respectfully, if not amicably." Rendal was only armed with the sword that never left her side and her wits and nothing more, however, her stiff, Romulan posture said that she was ready if things did not go well.

Sitting at the desk, it was everything she had in her to contain her anger at the woman standing before her. She wanted to take that sword and feed it to the woman who murdered her father in front of her then tortured and brainwashed her grandmother, then might possibly have gotten her mother killed as well. But she knew that would get her nowhere, and that the best way to escape was to bide her time for as long as it took for the crew of the Hera to find her. And while it had been nearly a month of captivity now, in her heart Mnhei'sahe knew Rita and Enalia would find her. So the red-headed Rihannsu woman took a breath, cleared her mind and replied as flatly and respectfully as she could.

After weeks of dealing with her own people, she was developing quite the 'poker face' for covering up what she was feeling, it seemed. A skill she had never been particularly good at that she now had needed to learn just to survive.

"Jolan'tru, Riov. If I may ask, what is prompting this... change in direction regarding our... relationship?" Mnhei'sahe said, still sitting behind the desk where her tendency to pace when nervous or angry wouldn't be a factor.

The Royal Riov pursed her lips, the ridges of her forehead seeming to furrow deeper as she stared out the window in frustration for a moment. She quickly composed herself and looked back at the younger Rihannsu with a hint of disdain, her eyes tracing the outline of her unruly red curls. "To be frank, I am accustomed to obtaining my way. I am from a Royal house and though many things in my life lately have been falling to ruin… The death of the prior leader of my household, my grandmother… The loss of my greatest achievements all in one blow with the theft of Deleth Station… The murder of my intended during that same incident by… Valkyries? Did I pronounce that right? Never the less, you are also descended from a noble line and thus I will offer you the appropriate education in Imperium geopolitical history at the very least."

"After all, in order to see the forest, one must first study the trees." With an inclination of her head, Rendal moved around the room in an attempt to appear more relaxed. "Once we reach ch'Rihan, you will be allowed the opportunity to send a curated message to your... Pardon me if I mispronounce this... Miradonian wife. What either of us does from there is up to your actions from this point forward."

"However, I believe that it is an understatement to say that we... dislike... one another." Rendal paused and leaned in so that she was face to face with Dox, one hand on the desk, her face an impassive jade mask. “As for what happened in the chamber yesterday… If you ever pull something like that again… I will personally ensure that you, or whatever is inside of you, will never set foot on ch’Rihan for the safety of the Imperium.”

Meeting her gaze, Mnhei'sahe never wavered in keeping her own face passive in spite of everything Rendal had said. Internally, the young Starfleet officer was barely containing her anger. Barely keeping herself from saying what she really wanted to say, but externally, she was calm and impassive looking. "I am an officer. And regardless of your feelings of that and Starfleet, you, I'm sure, understand that that means I am trained and capable of following orders regardless of my personal feelings regarding the person giving them."

So Mnhei’sahe didn’t say that she was glad the Valkyries took her intended considering what Rendal had since done to Mnhei’sahe’s family. Furious that Rendal would lord Mona over her as a carrot then threaten her because Rendal was unprepared for something that Mnhei’sahe and her mother had warned the Royal Romulan could happen multiple times, regarding unleashing the cosmic forces that had once occupied her mind. Those thoughts, she kept to herself as she tried to stay focused on what would keep them talking and therefore kept her breathing.

"My grandmother covered many elements of Rihannsu culture and social structure in my lessons with her. And while there was an emphasis on the functionality of the senate and its role in the tricameral system for obvious reasons, would I be correct in assuming that your's will have a different focus, since you wish to discuss the defense of ch'Rihan?"

"You would be astutely correct," Rendal replied, tapping in the unlock code for the computer terminal and moving away. "I was not sure what level of education you had on the Imperial Navy, the Tal'Shiar, and the distinct roles of each, so I decided we would begin there."

"However... Unlike most who would only show you the positive... more... recruitment poster... sides of both... I will instruct you in the darker sides of each as well." The Royal Riov paced the room slightly as the initial lesson plans came up on the screens. "Nothing state secret level, mind you. However, I will not gloss over historical facts such as massacres and mistakes made by both. After all, if we do not learn from our history, we are doomed to repeat it."

Glancing at the screen which changed from the simple screen saver of the spinning sigil of the Star Empire to a data display, Dox replied. Not the reply she wanted too as the first thought that wanted to spring from her lips was a reminder that Rendal's desire for Genesis tech is EXACTLY the kind of history nobody should ever seek to repeat, but she thought better of it.

"My grandmother took a similar track. Her perspective being much the same. One can't fix problems in government if one refuses to see what's wrong." Mnhei'sahe replied. She was knowingly parroting things her grandmother said in their tutelage, but it helped her keep her cool.

"However, she argued that the Tal'Shiar has far overreached itself in its growth of power. Historically, never a good thing for our people except that it always incites change, often for the better. Deposing the Ruling Queen and establishing the Senate and Pratorate... Deposing the rule of the Three when three Senators wielded ultimate power over the government, and so on." Dox added. She had paid very close attention to her Grandmother and wanted to make sure Rendal knew it.

"Hmph... It's not my place to argue over what type of government the Imperium should have or deserves..." Rendal muttered this almost as if she had some stake in it at some point as she moved over to the window and stared out of it. "However, I will not argue that the Tal'Shiar is overreaching. We should be defending the people rather than policing their actions. The original concept of the Tal’Shiar was to police the governing bodies and military but quickly grew out of control as its leadership craved more and more power. Back when it was originally founded, it was a sort of investigations bureau, if you will, responsible for keeping public and civil servants in check and in rare cases to act as security to protect them from intelligence threats from other governments."

Her gaze not leaving the window, Rendal motioned towards the computer. "For now, we will focus on the subjugation of the Reman people, why some feel that this was wrong, their impact on the Romulan economy, and the role that both the Navy and the Tal'Shiar played in their struggles throughout history and more specifically during the Dominion war and during the... Shinzon Rebellion..."

The muscles in the back of Mnhei’sahe’s neck tensed up at Rendal's words. The woman who brainwashed her grandmother to get her way and tried to do the same to her now preaching that the Tal'Shiar shouldn't be policing the actions of others was a staggeringly high level of hypocrisy Mnhei'sahe assumed was designed to bait her into reaction. Or perhaps, not reacting was what Rendal wanted. To see how much Dox could take and still comply. Test that officers training. Or it was possible that this was what she really believed and the sad fact that it ran contrary to how she functioned was something she could no longer see, so lost in her own self-righteousness. Regardless, Mnhei'sahe complied as it was a way to run out the clock as long as possible.

Looking at the screen, the information lesson came up as Rendal spoke. The history of the Reman people of ch'Havran, ch'Rihan's sister world, was a long and sordid affair that spoke to the worst traits of her people. "You seem to have an opinion regarding that subjugation, Riov?"

"They are a resilient and resourceful people. Fully one-third of my crew and household are Reman and I consider it an honor to serve with them." Rendal replied before catching herself. "My opinions are unpopular and inconsequential in the current political climate however, so it is fact that we must deal in and the fact is that many unfortunate actions led to the present state of affairs."

Narrowing her eyes slightly, Dox looked down at the screen. Opinions weren't inconsequential to the young captive in the slightest as it gave her valuable information about the character of her captor. Of WHO she was dealing with. And listening, Mnhei'sahe was finding a very interesting picture painted of a zealot who believed strongly, even in her own lies. But she replied plainly, still working the contempt out of her voice. She may have been Rihannsu, but she studied under a Vulcan master and was using everything she learned from Sonak to keep her emotions in check.

"Then... how are we to proceed, Riov? What is the structure of these lessons?" Dox asked. "My grandmother generally started with... something of a lecture on the subject of study, then left me to read through the files to discuss afterwards."

Riov Rendal sighed more heavily than last time and leaned against the frame of the window she was looking out of. Again with the mention of her grandmother. It was beginning to become tiresome and slightly frustrating. "First off I believe I owe you an apology. I have held you to my standards without attempting to understand you. I have attempted to bring the same ruin to your family as mine has. And you have proven yourself stronger of character and of discipline. However, you are you and while I will hold you to your oaths, I must hold the rest of your family to theirs."

"I believe that may be where the disparity between us is. Your parents and your grandmother swore an oath to the Imperium and my mnhei'sahe demands that I hold them to that oath. You've sworn an oath to Starfleet and the Federation... And it seems something more has sworn an oath to you. I must not ignore those oaths. The common people of ch'Rihan have made no such oaths but are the citizenry that I have sworn an oath to defend above all else, from all threats, foreign and domestic."

"In my view, as a Royal, that defense extends to the people of all worlds in the Imperium, including the Remans." Rendal paused a moment to collect her thoughts. "In that vein, you have my condolences and apologies for the death of your parents. However, you must understand that I have acted in accordance with what my mnhei'sahe has demanded, with or without all of the information needed at the time. I am sure you have objections to this."

"You would be astutely correct, Riov." Hearing her own name and it's meaning used to justify Rendal's actions turned the young woman's stomach, her anger being pushing itself back up as she swallowed hard and took a breath. "That said... what oath did my grandmother break that required what's been done to her?"

"Rendal held up two fingers. "Your grandmother was training you to be her successor and even registered you thus. This is a betrayal of her oaths for two reasons and once you displayed a continued will to resist and act in the best interests of the Federation, my hand was forced or my own loyalty would have been called into question. One, I can not allow a potential Federation spy into the government. Two, once you made your declaration, she could not be allowed to continue to proceed unchecked."

"So... Here we are allowing you to study and educating you on our history and such. What you do with it is up to you, and apparently you are immune to any form of coercion so there's no fear of that. Hence, basically, we are giving you, a potential Starfleet spy and intelligence asset, as much information as you'd like about our... your... society that would normally be available to anyone that went through higher education."

Processing everything Rendal had just said, contradictions aside, Mnhei'sahe stood up from the desk and turned towards the royal Riov with her arms folded behind her back. "My actions were in the best interests of the galaxy, of which the Federation and the Imperium are a part. I've been diplomatically trying to make you see that what you wanted from me would have harmed the Imperium and its people... possibly beyond repair. My Starfleet training said to say nothing while I was here. Do nothing. Make no concessions. No compromises. I was a prisoner and I was trained to give my captors nothing. Instead, I compromised... I listened and I talked and I tried to reach across the gap of over two centuries of animosity between governments that has caused nothing but tragedy. An animosity that is the only reason we have to talk like this, because I’m not simply free to go home because of that distrust."

"Because that was what MY mnhei'sahe demanded of me… that I put aside my own personal desires and even my personal grudges… to act in the best interests of the galaxy. And yes, act in the best interests of the Rihannsu people. I'm not a spy, I'm a pilot, and an officer, and a wife, and a daughter. I am also a citizen of the Federation and, as you said, my name has been entered into the records of the house Rul. Which makes me a citizen of ch'Rihan as well. And if I can find a way to help both, then I have to do so... even if neither home will accept me again when this is all over because of my choices. Because that's the oath I swore."

“And as a Tal’Shiar agent that believes in the old ways, I will hold you to that oath. That is the oath I swore.” Rendal then motioned back to the screen. Shall we continue with our history lesson? Or would you prefer we convene to the sparring hall early? I had planned on combat training after lunch to gauge your skill with a sword.”

Tensing up slightly, Dox had to contain herself. She could control her rage with the woman across from her here, talking. But with a weapon in her hand, she knew she would be at a disadvantage in every way. She had developed decent skills under the tutelage of Baroness von Alcott, but feared that in such a scenario, she would not be able to control herself properly. Give up her hand too easily. Better to delay that as long as she could. “History seems… a good place to start. Learn about the trees to understand the forest and all.”

“Excellent choice. First we will learn of the moment the Tal’Shiar took an active role in the suppression of the populace… Beginning with the Remans… Then we will assess your skills with the blade after lunch.” Rendal nodded solemnly as she dove into the lesson at hand.

While waiting for Mnhei'sahe Dox to be brought to the sparring chamber, Riov Dalia Rendal and Erei'Riov Arrenhe t'Suil were preparing the space. The vents were secure, Centurions were in each of the six corners, a medic was on standby, and holo-cams were recording the entire proceedings. Thus Rendal herself was inspecting the array of wooden weaponry along two of the six walls. She wasn't sure what the Starfleet trained woman would prefer, so she had everything that was available brought out, including a mock bat'leth and a Jem'hadar pike lance. After all, one never knew what one would find on the field of battle, and one would need to train in all the weapons of the enemy.

As the doors wooshed open, Mnhei'sahe stepped in. She was flanked by two Centurion's, but her arms were unbound and they were walking her more like an escorted guest instead of the prisoner she really was. Rendal is certainly making every effort her to try and... Ingratiate herself here. the stout, red-headed Rihannsu woman thought to herself as she quickly examined the room.

She took in the guards and doctor, noting their positions and armaments. She surveyed the room and the wall of sparring weapons. And she looked at Rendal and t'Suil and took a breath, pushing down her contempt and maintaining a blank face.

The SubCommander, t'Suil, saw Dox first and her posture stiffened slightly as she spoke. "Riov. She has arrived. It is time."

Rendal turned, her hands clasped behind her. "Excellent. Combat training, exercise, and the noble art of swordplay, in particular, is expected of all noble houses of ch'Rihan and now as a member of such a house, you will be expected to train with such weapons. Though you have demonstrated the mental discipline and fortitude to match a Kolinahr master... I will ensure that you have the aptitudes to match a Dahar master."

The olive-skinned Riov then motioned to the walls of wooden weaponry. "Thus we will begin by sparring with training weapons. And if either of us are injured, there is a medic standing by. Please feel free to choose anything on the walls that you see fit." With that, she chose a longsword that closely approximated the length and heft of the sword that rested at her hip.

Nodding respectfully, Mnhei'sahe stepped forward. It was a performance she was becoming quite good at in her captivity. Her guard's sidestepped to take up positions to the sides of the doors and she was free to move about the room. Looking at the weapons, she knew that the twin short swords were ideal based on her training. They were remarkably close to the curved Caitian blades she had practiced with under the aegis of Baroness Von Alcott for over six months straight and had become like extensions of her own arms. She had gotten good. Very good. She could almost hold her own against the augmented super-soldier in exercises and could best the holographic training programs Schwein had crafted to allow Mnhei'sahe to practice in her absence. In the tribunal, she successfully held off multiple attackers in a massive melee attack, never once taking a hit. But she didn't want Rendal to know that if she already didn't.

Instead, she picked a blade of dark maithe wood not dissimilar to the one Rendal had chosen. After all, in her darkest moments, she dreamed of ending the Royal Romulan with her own sword and this seemed apropos. But the weeks spent on the Warbird learning to keep her temper in check had born useful fruit and her face betrayed none of this. Taking the sword off the wall, she bounced it in her hand, testing its heft. It was extremely well balanced and felt very much like the real thing. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see t'Suil slowly place her own hand on the hilt of the very real sword on her own hip as Mnhei'sahe turned to face Rendal.

"Everyone calm down. This is a simple swordplay lesson, nothing more." Rendal could easily read the mood of the room and swore that she would need the sword at her hip to cut the tension. "You will have to forgive them. Anyone who kills me and takes the sword at my hip may claim my command, my Royal house, and my titles. I doubt I have anything to fear from a Starfleet pilot's skills with a blade, however."

She then moved her sword through a few warm-up exercises and took a basic defensive stance. "You may come at me when ready."

The young pilot allowed herself a light chuckled and nodded. "Very likely. Put me at a helm and I'm much more dangerous. Here... not so much. Regardless. I belong to the house Rul. I would not seek another. And besides, I have given my word that I would not resist beyond the defense of my oaths. I intend to keep that word to the best of my ability." Mnhei'sahe replied, swinging the sword about in a somewhat purposeful display of seeming ignorance.

Then, centering herself, she took up an amateurish stance, took a breath and lead with a wide downward swing that was deflected with comparable ease.

Rendal frowned as she did so, however. Something felt off. "Widen your stance and tighten your grip. Again!"

Stepping back, Mnhei'sahe obeyed. She did exactly as instructed, but no more and swung wide from the left this time. Rendal easily dodged the move and blocked the clumsy follow up even easier. All the while, Mnhei'sahe struggled to look as poor a sword fighter as she could. On the perimeter, t'Suil folded her arms behind her back and began circling the ring with narrowed eyes. While Dox was eventually captured, she successfully did disable two of her attackers with a stunning baton before being defeated which was no easy feat and t'Suil knew it.

Rendal had seen the logs as well and while she expected the woman before her to be inexperienced, she was acting as if she were completely new to the sword. Thus she stepped in and lashed out with a trio of strikes that she knew the young woman could handle as she saw her do it during her capture.

Blocking the first strike almost instinctively, Mnhei'sahe stepped back defensively. As she did, her feet fell into a correct stance and her posture shifted. Noticing this, the young pilot then only barely blocked the second and dropping her guard just enough to allow the third strike to land squarely at its target. The wooden sword bit hard into her side and she winced at the impact. As she did, her face went hot and she knew she was flushing green as her anger began roiling up. But she pushed it back down and reset herself, wincing as she did and not saying a word. She didn't have to mask her frustration, however, as she hoped it would help sell the performance she didn't realize was being wasted.

"You are trying to hide your true skill," Rendal pointed out as she traced a small circle before her with the tip of her training sword. "Come at me with all of your skill and might. Prove you are a true green-blooded Rihannsu. Or will you not at least grasp at this chance to take my life, now that you have it? To beat me to within an inch of my life and make me beg for mercy? Or will you roll over like a Ferengi and wait for the Federation to negotiate your release?"

Listening, Dox gripped the hilt of her wooden sword that much tighter as Rendal tried baiting her. Even with a practice sword, she could see more than a few ways she could kill the woman that had murdered her father in front of her, tortured her grandmother and may be responsible for the death of her mother. If her mother was, in fact, truly gone. Mnhei'sahe tried to put those thoughts out of her head.

Rendal had likely held a sword all of her life, Dox thought. And even if she could beat the woman, there were now eight armed guards, a doctor, and t'Suil in the room to stop her. She might satisfy her rage and avenge her family... balance her honor... but then Rita and Enalia would be rushing in to save a corpse. Risking their own lives for nothing because she couldn't not be baited. But as her blood all but burned in her, she wanted so desperately to see Rendal suffer. 

She was straining to not let the shaking she felt in her hands show as she brought her sword up again. This time, her stance was better. This time, the sword was locked in her grip. But as she moved, she stunted herself again. She swung wild and angry, but still purposefully poor, and Rendal was having none of it as she blocked the swing again and countered with another hard strike with her own sword, this time to the young Lieutenant's shoulder.

Again, purposefully taking the hit, Dox winced as her eyebrows knitted and she stared with unguarded hate in her eyes.

"I think I see the issue. Everyone else in the room... Face the wall..." As Rendal stood there and waited for the centurions to turn around and face the walls, she nodded to t'Suil that it would be ok. Once she too was looking away, the Royal Romulan continued. "Will you show me your true skill now? The skill that you displayed during your capture? The skill I can plainly see within you?"

Without another word, Rendal stepped in and feinted with her sword to cover for a double kick to Dox's leg and midsection.

And again, Dox let herself take the hit. It was everything she had in her to keep herself from erupting with anger as the air was forced out of her and she fell back hard to the floor. But as she did, her hand's grip on that wooden sword never faltered. From the thinly padded mat on the floor, Mnhei'sahe looked up and her eyes locked on the very real sword on Rendal's belt for the briefest of seconds.

The sword that killed her father.

And slowly, she stood back up. She looked down at the wooden sword in her own hand for a moment and closed her eyes. Taking a breath, her grip tightened and she looked back up. Her skin's green flushed tone began to abate and her eyes opened, only half-lidded. The hate behind them was gone. Everything behind them was gone. The tremble in her hands stilled, and with the sword still at her side, she simply tilted her head slightly and stared at Rendal. 

There was a moment as Rendal didn't quite know what to make of the shorter, slightly soft-looking woman staring at her with such dead eyes. But the moment was short-lived as, without warning, Dox simply... moved. 

The first move was a tight, upwards swing that forced the skilled swordswoman to put up the first legitimate defense of the day to keep the wooden blade away from her face. But Dox wasn't finished. As she swung, she let the handle slip backward in her hand and was now holding the blade backward and began a series of quick, tight slashes that actually began to push Rendal back as she defended herself. 

At the now rapid sound of the wooden blades hitting, t'Suil turned just enough to see and her eyes widened. Dox was moving fast. Much faster than her physicality would suggest her capable of. And moving in closer with ever-tighter strikes.

Then, there was a moment of shock on the SubCommander's face as the red-headed woman dropped half to the ground and in a spinning twist, brought her wooden blade in behind her to slip through Rendal's defense to land a solid stab to her middle. As the wind was forced out of her, and the white lights in her eyes subsided, she realized that in a real duel, that could have been a lethal blow. 

Dox stood back up and simply stared across at her opponent, that same coldness in her eyes.

Instead of anger or frustration, Rendal was chuckling as she straightened up and pulled her uniform top open to reveal a light paneled armor underneath. "Good... Good... You finally show your true skill. Let us finally begin." Rather than the casual defensive stance she had been taking, her eyes were cold and hard and she was now in a crouching stance with her sword in a one-handed hold over her head, her other hand outstretched.

While the other guards had resisted the temptation to turn, t'Suil was now turned and watching. If this woman was a genuine threat, then her own honor demanded that she disobey to keep watch over her mistress.

And after another second, the battle continued. The six-sided room echoed with each loud clap of wood on wood, but it was now moving even faster. Neither woman giving up ground as Rendal decided to test a hypothesis she gleaned looking into Mnhei'sahe's eyes as she ducked up under a tight swing, only barely avoiding Dox's blade by a fraction of a centimeter and came up again to jab the woman hard in the side with the butt of her own weapon. 

From the younger woman, there was almost no reaction. A brief exhale of air as she stepped back, paying no attention to a hit that was designed to cause serious pain for the unarmored combattant. But instead, Dox simply pressed her attack and Rendal realized that the woman's fight training and ability to block out pain likely bordered on mental conditioning, no doubt the product of her traitor mother. She's been conditioned well, not only by her mother, but by possibly that captain of hers at the behest of her mother. Well done, Jaeih. You've produced quite the offspring.

Stepping back, Rendal realized now that she needed to shift tactics once again. If the young woman was trained to the point of conditioning to block out pain in a fight, then Rendal would have to attack things that she couldn't consciously control. 

Launching back in, Rendal pressed with an even harder attack pattern and Dox shifted to a tighter defense. The woman was still in control of her faculties but simply allowed her training to take over as she moved. Her anger was inside, helping her ignore the pain in her side that made her want to double over. But all she saw was the woman she wanted to kill and she kept pressing forward.

But Rendal was the superior swordswoman, and she began landing quicker, lighter hits. First a jab directly to Dox's upper arm just below the shoulder that all but caused the young woman's left arm to fall limp to her side. Rendal was no longer attacking major areas of damage and instead was going after nerve clusters. It was a technique Dox was trained in and knew all too well, but by the time that she realized how she was being targeted it was too late.

With the first hit, Rendal had a broad opening as Dox's left side defense had fallen and she took it, striking again at the side of the young officer's neck. And as her neck locked up and the pain finally broke through her mental defenses, Dox locked up slightly and her grip on her wooden sword faltered. Seeing her opening, Rendal swung wide knocking the wooden sword from her opponent's faltering grip. 

The practice blade fell to the ground a solid meter clear of the matt and hit with a loud slap of wood on metal as Rendal spun around and brought her blade to a stop just a millimeter from Dox's throat. 

"I believe that is the first time in many years I have fully enjoyed myself... You have my gratitude." Calming her breathing to a more normal manner, Rendal motioned to t'Suil. "She is to receive proper medical care and treated with the respect due my apprentice."

Rendal then set her wooden sword aside and moved towards the door. "You did very well. I daresay you could easily kill anyone aboard this ship with the exception of myself. Tomorrow I will teach you a new breathing technique that may allow you to do even that."

At the word 'apprentice', Dox's stomach tightened again as if she's been hit even harder. The young Rihannsu was breathing heavy and said nothing in reply as t'Suil nodded and stepped over. 'Ie, Riov. It will be."

Saying nothing, Dox stretched out her neck, which popped loudly, and slowly turned towards t'Suil as Rendal stopped at the door. The SubCommander looked down to meet Dox's eyes and clearly didn't like what she saw there as she narrowed her own gaze. "Let us have your needs attended to, then." As she spoke, t'Suil gestured with two fingers and the guards at the door stepped slightly forward to escort them.

Without a word or a specific order, and certainly without waiting for t'Suil, Dox simply walked over to stand with the centurions as if they were hers. As she did, she turned to look at the Royal Romulan waiting at the entrance to the gym, then back to t'Suil who was following with a slightly frustrated look on her face. There was a palpable tension between the two now as the well trained SubCommander wasn't sure she would have won had it been her in the ring. 

"After you, Erei'Riov." Dox said flatly.

Sitting in her Spartan quarters on the Romulan Warbird, 'the Iurret' that flanked the Senator's ship at high warp back to ch'Rihan, Erei'Riov Arrenhe t'Suil was stewing.

The loyal SubCommander didn't like what was happening with this mission. She didn't like knowing that the traitor, Jaeih Dox, had escaped her cell and that there hadn't been the slightest trace of the woman since then. She didn't like that they weren't actively looking for the traitor. She didn't understand what game her Riov, Dalia Rendal, was playing with Dox's still-captive daughter. The kidnapped Starfleet Officer with the ridiculous name of 'Mnhei'sahe'.

What kind of fool was her mother to give her such a name. Named after the Ruling Passion itself… what a curse to put upon one's own child t'Suil thought to herself as she watched the security hologram on her small desk computer. The hologram that replayed her Riov's sparring match with the girl. The girl named for a virtue.

Mnhei'sahe Dox, a lieutenant for the Starfleet Intelligence ship called the Hera, had been their prisoner for nearly a month's time as they made their final approach to the hearthworld. And as t'Suil watched the recording carefully, she thought on how much has changed in that last month.

Her Riov had, at first, allowed the Senator to handle the girl her way. Inexplicably, this 'Mnhei'sahe' was, in fact, the Granddaughter of the Senator, Verelan t'Rul. That, by Rihannsu law, made this unknown red-headed Starfleet officer a legal citizen of the Imperium and a legitimate heir to the Senator's lands, holdings and even made her eligible to inherit her seat in the Senate if she could be convinced to reject her false life with Starfleet and defect home.

For a time, t'Suil even supported this idea and made suggestions to help in this process. After all, what could Starfleet and the Federation truly offer to a daughter of ch'Rihan that service to her true home could not handily match? There was no honor amongst the mongrels and alien trash that comprised the toothless federation. No way to achieve all she could be capable of. No way to be more than they would allow her to be: their token 'Romulan'.

Then, something happened. The girl seemed to be receptive to her grandmother's tutelage. From her ridiculously oversized guest-quarters on the Senator's flagship, Dox was absorbing every lesson on the truth of her people like a sponge. T'Suil and her Riov both had suspected that the girl had been starved for her true culture and she seemed to be sincerely working, slowly, towards the light. But the second that the girl had wavered even for an instant… when a softer hand would have pulled her closer… when the true face of the Imperium's mercy would have offered her stability and certainty... her Riov chose to step in… and take over.

The younger SubCommander couldn't help but think that it was a mistake at the time. In her fervor to control the situation and rush its outcome to her favor, Her Riov caged the girl AND the Senator as a traitor. It seemed folly, but t'Suil went along. Her Riov was of noble blood. Wise and canny in ways t'Suil could only strive to be. But t'Suil failed to understand and instead trusted in her Commander's understanding. But now she wasn't so sure.

The Riov then put the Senator to the Ju'rot. The Neural Extraction Converter that could rewrite minds to loyalty as needed. But after only ONE treatment, she had the woman go to her granddaughter as a threat. An example of her own fate. Then the girl did the impossible and beat the Ju'rot. She was subjected to the machine's highest level and maintained her own mind. Rendal had erred again.

Now the girl has lost everything. The Riov took her father from her, then Grandmother's mind, and then her mother herself. And while the traitor, Jaeih Dox, was still alive and somewhere in hiding, the girl believed her dead. And in that void where everything has been taken from her, the Riov now seemed to seek the impossible. To turn the girl still. To continue her tutelage as a noble daughter of ch'Rihan.

Madness. t'Suil thought.

She will kill you the first chance she gets, Riov. t'Suil thought as she watched their fight replay before her. If she has the slightest inkling what that name of hers means, then she must. Why push her further? Give her the means? Encourage her to take MY place as your apprentice? Are you TRYING to break...

Then, watching the fight, t’Suil’s mind all but exploded. Prodded far enough, the girl was driven by her passions. Her ‘mnhie’sahe’. Her Riov pushed her to reveal herself and drop the cover she had been maintaining that she couldn’t fight. And the revealed truth was a deceptively deadly woman. The facade Starfleet had forced on the girl had been chipped away by the Riov. The Starfleet way stripped back to the truth beneath.

The Riov WAS breaking the girl. Breaking her of her preconceptions and Starfleet programming. Breaking her of the lies that taught her to not be Rihannsu.

You seek to... Rebuild the girl. t’Suil thought to herself… Not with soft words and the promise of family, as the Deihu had tried. But with the ultimate truth of the Rihhanse Star Empire. That we are superior. That in embracing that superiority, she can have what her mother and Starfleet took from her: true freedom.

Pausing the feed, t’Suil called up the feed from the girls quarters when her Riov spoke to her that morning. She had watched the recording many times, and it began to make sense. You are showing her the path, Riov. OUR way. The Rihannsu way. Showing her that it was Starfleet’s indoctrination and her mother’s lies that created her situation, not us. You are giving her the truth and the means to walk that path.

And once on that path, even if her mewling government demands that we return her and our own relents simply to forestall the war all true Rihannsu know must happen… what will we be returning? Not a simple Starfleet officer. No, that mask is cracked. That lie stands revealed. She is becoming what she was born to be. You are attempting to sculpt a Rihannsu. A TRUE Rihannsu who will never again be able to look on the saccharine lies of the federation and see them as anything but the weak facades that they are. You are sowing the seeds of doubt for that old life and those seeds grow deep roots.

It is a gamble, my Riov. t’Suil thought to herself as she watched the girl on the screen fight with a skill she doubted she could match, Give her too much power… and she well may take your royal head and all that comes with it. You may be creating an enemy even you might one day fall before. But if you succeed, woe be to that Starship that takes back into it’s fold something with sharper teeth and the will to use them.

It had been weeks now since the event that had been infamously referred to by the crew of the Starship Hera as 'The Thunderchicken Incident'. Since the experimental craft went on a bizarre rampage of sorts, stomping down the corridors with no pilot and wreaking havoc in the ship's main lounge. What wasn't common knowledge to most of the crew was that cause: The remnant neural patterns and active dreaming of its remote pilot, Ensign Fiona O'Dell.

In the days following the incident in which O'Dell's crewmate and partner in the ship's R&D Department, Ensign Briaar Gavarus, was grievously injured, the two inseparable friends became far more than friends. The unlikely duo had become something of an official, if unconventional couple, having finally decided in the wake of an almost-tragedy, to admit their feelings for each other. It was weird.

Weirder still was how the two finally came to realize that their affection for each other had become more than a close friendship. It happened while Briaar Gavarus... was on a date. A date with the woman that had been the object of her affections for months, Petty Officer Ethel Jablonski. And as that date ended, much was left unsaid between the two. It had become clear that Gavarus and O'Dell had strong feelings and Jablonski recognized this and left to leave the pair to suss out those feelings and let her know later.

Of course, that was an awkward conversation that the porcine Engineer, Gavarus had been avoiding like the swine flu. And even though it had become fairly obvious amongst the crew that Gavarus and O'Dell were an item now, she still felt like she owed Ethel an explanation or something. Because in those long weeks since that date, a lot more than O'Dell and her beginning to see each other romantically had happened.

"Fee!!! We've got a warp core breach, here! Do you have the diaper bag?" Gavarus shouted, holding out the literally getting bigger by the day, gurgling Minotaur baby, Minerva Carrott. Officially, the adopted daughter of the ship's nurse John Carrott and his wife Amy, the impossibly cute little ball of fur, nubby horns, and bodily functions had become the pair's defacto child. Amy Carrott's own actual pregnancy had been extremely difficult, and the couple was struggling to care for themselves and their own newborn, so Gavarus and O'Dell began pitching in to help with babysitting. But along the way, they had fallen madly in love with the miniature manure machine and had serious intentions of wanting to make their current status as her caregivers more official. They wanted to adopt Baby Minerva.

The Odd Couple was in the process of becoming the Odd Family.

“ACH! How does something so tiny make so much manure?!?” Fiona railed as she snapped out an absorbent blanket, tossing it onto the deck beneath the bovine babe to catch the leaks, then donned some heavy-duty rubber gauntlets the duo now packed as a matter of course in the cow-print diaper bag Fiona had sewed to carry their childcare accouterments. Sliding on the safety goggles- also an unusual addition to a standard diaper bag, but a necessity in the case of the mischievous miniature minotaur. After all, she had a habit of trying to make a bigger mess once she had started one.

“Alreet, armored up, chammie at the ready, diaper disposal at the ready… cut it loose and let’s get her changed!” Taking the infant from Gavarus with a grunt of effort, Fiona took her to the deck and started working even as Gavarus dug into the diaper bag for more wipes and disinfectant mixed with conditioner so as not to chafe the delicate furred skin of the barnyard baby.

Not a sight one anticipated seeing in the corridors of deck 10. But then, the towering Tellarite and the Mariposian midget were not a sight most expected to encounter, forget about changing a beast baby in the corridors of Deck 10. Yet there they were.

"I'm going to guess it has something to do with how often she eats. Frickin' kid is like the mouth that lived. She's like a personal singularity." Gavarus griped as she began attending to little Minerva's bottom. As she did, the furry baby let out a gurgly raspberry as if she knew they were complaining about her. And it had the proper effect in instantly making the typically touchy Tellarite do an emotional 180.

"Awww... I didn't mean nothing, Minnie Moo! You keep on eating and growing up to be a big girl, yes you do!" Gavarus cooed in baby talk.

“Ye know, there’s bugger all in the database aboot baby Minotaurs. I wish I knew what was normal and what’s not for her,” O’Dell remarked as she fished out a new diaper and prepped it for the arrival of a furry bottom. “I mean, I know babies eat like houses and poop like it’s their job, but I just wish we had a bit more to go on than ‘It’s how it was with me relatives so must be right’, aye? I mean, we dinna even know what she’s supposed to be eating, how much she’s supposed to weigh, how fast she’s supposed to grow. The only thing I could find was this hate-filled document from a Commander that used to serve on the Hera aboot giant nasty versions that were apparently a scourge of the universe not too long ago. But that’s nae you, mah wee moo, aye? Aye? Aye?”

As the pair finished up like the well-oiled machine they were quickly becoming, the powdered Minnie's bottom, applied a fresh diaper and disposed of the bio-hazard. All the while Minerva was giggling and trying to grab as much of Fiona's bright red curls as she could in her tiny, three-fingered grip.

"Yeah, no frickin' way. Minnie's not that at all. That was a bunch of bullshit." Gavarus scoffed, re-packing the custom made diaper bag as they got ready to move on. "I mean, she seems really happy. She's not throwing anything we feed her up and she's still good and baby-pudgy. So we must be feeding her at least okay. But, yeah. It would be nice to... like... know and not just guess and hope we're not messing her up."

“Aye. I guess we could ask Medical to do some research, but if that’s all they got then we’re back to square one and we look like incompetent- uh, babysitters,” Fiona chose the word carefully, as they may have felt like parents to the little bundle, but they were, in fact, not. Thus she was hesitant to extend the label to them, as there was still a distinct possibility that they would not gain guardianship of the small spacefarer, which would be heartbreaking to both of them. Which Fiona questioned only slightly, as apparently Mother Nature didn’t care if you were well-equipped to be a parent- sometimes it just happened.

Grunting with the effort, O’Dell heaved the burbling bundle onto her bony hip. Bouncing the toddler cheerfully, she smiled as Minnie stuffed some of Fiona’s hair into her mouth, where everything that wasn’t too big to fit went. “Alreet ye little weightlifting aid, let’s get to the pub where we can put ye in a high chair, and me too, and your mums- ach, I mean, yuir aunties kin get a drink.”

Pulling the diaper bag up over her shoulder, Briaar scrunched her face slightly. She was exactly as conflicted over the idea that they might have to give little Minnie back as her pint-sized partner and just as worried about it. Because when it came right down to it, while Minnie might not have been their child, the fuzzy little bundle owned the two of them and it often looked like she knew it

Instead, Gavarus didn't say anything to add to the stress and followed Fiona's lead to Ten-Forward, smiling down at the two the entire time.

Entering 10-Forward, the duo who were renowned as troublemakers and roustabouts had changed very little with the addition of a third to their partnership. Instead, they simply brought the child with them to the pub, as Fiona insisted on referring to it, and the baby made her own obnoxious habits and harassment to complement her unlikely caregivers. Thus as the trio entered, the crestfallen expressions on the faces of the servers was compounded even more than before.

Making their way across the expansive lounge, O’Dell chose her third favorite table, because of course she had favorites ranked by the view and access to the bar and bathrooms. As they moved to their seats Gavarus signaled one of the servers, who knew he could bring them a high chair for their charming charge, or be harassed endlessly by the prickly porcine engineer. When they slid into their seats after getting Minerva settled into hers, O’Dell spotted a hulking figure hunched over a Padd, two fingers typing at it with what was clearly considerable concentration. Frowning slightly, the starship sprite tapped her partner’s beefy forearm.

“There’s Big Ethel over there… ye know, we nivvir did talk to her after I went and ruined yuir date. We should probably try to talk with her and clear the air so it’ll be less awkward, aye?” Seeing the expression on Gavarus’ face as she spoke, Fiona began unbuckling Minnie from her chair bondage. “Ye can carry Minnie- No one would hit a lady carrying a baby. Or you for that matter..."

Shooting Fiona a somewhat predictable stink-eye at the barb, Gavarus took the gurgling, smiling bundle and plugged her onto her prodigious hip. "I... I guess. I mean... I don't know what to say. It's not you that ruined the date. It was my fault... I kept talking about you and... how mad do you think she's gonna be? I feel like shit about how that all .. I mean... I was pining for her for... @#$&!"

At Gavarus' curse, little Minnie mimicked the blonde Tellarite's scrunched, serious face and blurted out "FRBBBBBBBB!"

“I think if she was mad at ye then you would know it by now. Or the pieces that were left of you would. C’mon ye great Nellie, I’ll do the talkin’ and I’ll protect ye.” Grinning at her partner in crime, the pixie pilot hopped down to the floor and began striding in her odd double-time locomotion over to where the gentle giant of Security was sitting.

“Sayyyyyy, Ethel… can we… talk?” O’Dell asked shyly as they approached. While often fearless, Fiona was always a bit nervous around people considerably larger, and Ethel Jablonski was the most massive woman on the starship Hera. Standing 2.2 meters tall and weighing in at an easy 200 kilos, the massively muscular humanoid was one of the sentients onboard who naturally made Fiona O’Dell a bit nervous, given her own stature of not even a meter and a half tall and weighing in at a whopping 40 kilograms. But while the security officer was large and powerful, she seemed to have a gentle soul and a patient demeanor that belied her stature. Which was what O’Dell was counting on today.

As she looked up, Jablonski took in the sight of the mop of crimson curls, and the tellarite who was trying to hide behind a Minotaur baby. Glancing from one to the other, Big Ethel, as she was referred to by many, gestured expansively to the booth in which she was seated.

“Why don’t you come have a sit-down and we can chat, sure,” the gentle giantess offered as she bilked a bit, clearly refocusing her concentration.

“What’r ye writin, Jablonski?” O’Dell chirped curiously as she hopped into the booth and scooted over to put herself between the mass of muscle and her partner, in case mediation was needed.

Looking strikingly self-conscious, Jablonski’s eyes slid sideways and she deflected. “It’s, um… it’s not very good yet, but I’m trying to write… never mind. You wanted to talk to me?” the farm girl from a high gravity world redirected, looking pointedly at Gavarus.

Grinning far too widely to look even half comfortable, Gavarus sat down in the empty chair, bouncing Minerva on her hip as she did. Bouncing her a bit more than was likely recommended as the tiny minotaur's giggles started to warble slightly until the anxious engineer realized what she was doing and stopped cold. "Uh... heh... yeah. Uh. Hi. Yeah. Uh... so... I guess... it's been a while and I wanted to... ya' know... I guess... um... talk about our... the night... uh... the date?"

The broad-faced, lantern-jawed bodybuilder blinked innocently, encouraging Gavarus to continue, which only made the space swine sweat that much more.

“What Briaar’s tryin ta say-“ O’Dell began, before a hand that she suddenly realized was larger than her head moved in front of her to shoosh her.

“She’s a big girl, she can speak for herself. And I'd rilly like to hear what Briaar Gavarus has to say for herself,” Jablonski explained in a slightly terse tone. “Go on?”

Swallowing so loudly little Minnie tilted her head slightly at the sound, Gavarus felt light-headed and vomity. "Yeah... uh... so..." She stammered for a moment before feeling frustrated and a bit too claustrophobic. "Uh, Fee... could you hold her, please."

As she spoke, she handed the fuzzy baby off to O'Dell, who took her hesitantly. And now, with her hands free, Gavarus started talking with them, gesticulating a bit. "So... yeah. You're upset. And... and you should be because I was an absolute wimp. We went out... and we were having a good time... and it was what I thought I wanted more than anything... but then..."

Rolling her eyes and groaning slightly, Gavarus just burst like a leaky dam. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry I was a wimp and didn't say anything sooner. I'm sorry that I ruined our date. It's just... I didn't realize it at the time, but I... I WAS already in... in... and I think I just was scared to admit it! And I still was super attracted to you and I thought that was what I wanted still... but... I'm sorry. It was Fee. It was always Fee. And when I realized it and when we talked about it... I didn't know how to tell you. I didn't... I felt like shit for asking you on that date to begin with when I think I was trying to convince myself I couldn't be feeling what I was feeling and that was shitty. But I really liked you too. I still like you, you're awesome and weird and funny. I like you a lot. But... But I L... I L..."

The panicking porcine felt the words stick in her throat and she pushed them out, almost spitting across the table. "I love her. I love her... and I'm sorry I didn't say so sooner."

Sitting passively through the difficult confession, Jablonski’s face betrayed nothing- a consummate Security officer, But when Gavarus had stammered out the last of it, a smile spread across the face of the incredible hulk of the Security team. “I’m happy for you two, honest. I’m glad you found each other, yannow, and I’m glad you found enough courage to admit it to yourself and each other. And I’m glad you finally came clean with me too- you’ve been dodging me all over the ship for weeks, and I was worried that you were gonna just never talk to me again.”

“It’s okay, Gavarus. Life is like that, and we can’t choose who we fall in love with. I think it’s sweet you two are together, and it looks like you got yourselves an instant family here with Little Miss, here.” Jablonski offered a pinkie to the wide-eyed infant, who immediately seized on it to begin gnawing and drooling over the digit that was nearly the size of Fiona’s wrist. “Blessed by Hera, this one is. Like me, pretty easy to see the signs, eh?”

In that moment, Gavarus felt a thousand pounds lighter as she flumped a bit in her seat. But as she let out a relieved sigh, she processed the rest of what Ethel had said and her eyebrows went up. Looking down at Fiona for a second then back up to the mountain of a security officer, Gavarus stammered slightly.

"Uh... W... w... what do you mean, she's blessed? What signs?" The portly porcine replied with a blend of surprise and confusion.

Jablonski stared back in confusion. "You... don't see... the, ahh, the little hooves, maybe...?" the security officer edged carefully around the topic of the baby's minotaur nature. Maybe they couldn't see it for all she knew.

Looking back, Gavarus' eyebrows cricked slightly and she smiled slightly. "Oh, no. Yeah, she's a minotaur baby... or half... I dunno. We play with her little hoofies all the time. I was meaning the 'blessed' part. What does that mean?"

Then Gavarus looked at Fiona like a cartoon lightbulb of recognition went off. "Wait? Do you, like, know shit about minotaurs? Like... 'cuz the databanks have shit for info and we're totally guessing on how to take care of her right and kinda lightly freaking out."

The almost cartoonishly large hands of the bulky bodybuilder came up quickly in surrender. "Well, no, I don't. But they're part of..." the frown moved in slightly as Big Ethel narrowed her eyes and leaned in conspiratorially. "Don't you know who we have onboard...?"

The midget and the pig and the baby all looked at one another quite perplexed, unable to draw a conclusion. As one, all three turned back to Jablonski, who drew back a bit, clearly confused. "Uh, the ship's named after her."

"Who?" O'Dell asked with a shake of her head as Minerva turned her big brown eyes her way.

"Hera," Jablonski said reverently.

Looking as confused as two girls not from Earth who clearly slept through their comparative religion classes at the academy could be, Gavarus and O'Dell were both straining with Ethel's reply.

"Hera, who?" They said in unison.

"Is that someone in security?" O'Dell added with a raised eyebrow.

"There's no Hera's in the security. There's a Liu, and a Helen, but..." Gavarus blushed slightly as she spoke, realizing her predilection for appreciating the finer points of the Amazonian security staff was showing a bit, "Not… that I know the names of all the… ladies…"

"So… Liu's first name is Hera? I'm confused?"

"Wait, isn't there a 'Harold' something who works on deck two?"

"Harold Who?"

"Who's on two, Liu?"

Minnie's little horned head turned back and forth between her two unlikely guardians as they tossed names back and forth making themselves more and more confused until finally the fuzzy Minotaur baby started giggling and trying to mimic her aspiring mothers with a series of bouncy, gurgling sounds as the two looked at one another and in tandem said, "Third base!"

"NO!", Jablonski said with emphasis, immediately causing her audience to recoil slightly. Lowering her voice, the great mass of petty officer spoke in more reassuring tones. "The goddess HERA? The ship's namesake? Patron saint of woman, marriage, and family? I guard her quarters on Deck 8, and that's how I got so big... a blessing of the goddess. Because her retinue generates around her as an affect, she doesn't do anything for it to happen. Which consists of Amazons, living statues, harpies and... minotaurs." The large petty officer let that trail off, so that all the theoretical adults at the table's gazes all settled back in little Minnie Moo, the unlikely bovine born to human parents on the starship Hera.

Finally wrapping their heads around it, Gavarus and O'Dell looked at each other then back to Jablonski, and at the same time, replied, "Ahhhhhhh, okay!"

"Wow..." Gavarus added. "So... there's really an old greek goddess from Earth up on Deck 8? Cool." Then, her mind started processing info as she looked back to Fiona. "Soooo, she'd probably know all about minotaurs and shit, right? Like, if she's healthy and what kind of stuff we... or I guess the Carrotts... should be doing."

"She does. I don't know if you have clearance to visit with her, but you can always ask. See, Minotaurs are her generals. She's blessed me since I was the closest thing she had on hand, but your little adorable mess here..." Jablonski reverently rolled up her sleeve, exposing the somewhat crude bronze bracer she wore there. Removing it from her forearm, she handed it to Minnie. "Someday these will be yours, little one. A gift from the Goddess, one of many she'll bless you with I imagine. I'll keep them safe for you until then."

Gnawing and drooling on the bronze bracer that was nearly as big as she was, Minerva Carrott's big brown eyes were wide, with motes of light dancing in them as she looked up at the titanic woman who was explaining her destiny.

"Uh, yeah. We didn't even have clearance to know she existed, right Fee?" Gavarus chuckled, smiling warmly at little Minnie in spite of herself.

"Waaaaaaaaitaminnit here. Are you sayin what I think yuir sayin, mate? That-" O'Dell checked her volume level and dropped into a conspiratorial tone as she leaned into the table. "Are you seriously tryin' ta tell me that we've an honest to god old school power of the cosmos onboard the bloody Heras? Namely Hera, goddess of whatyesay, women... marriage and family..."

The emerald eyes of the little lasse they called Leprechaun narrowed, and she looked to Briaar Gavarus, her unlikely mate- another woman. Cocking an eyebrow she looked to the adorable, practically irresistible bundle of minotaur sitting on the table, seemingly fascinated by all of this as she teethed on the only slightly unsanitary bronze bracer that was half her size.

"I think I might want to have a word with your Hera. You thinking what I'm thinking, Briaar?"

Cocking her eyebrow a bit, Gavarus smiled and started nodding. But as she did, her face started to look confused and the nodding started turning into a shake. "Uh... I don't know. I mean... are you thinking we can... get her to bless us to get to... keep Minnie?"

Smacking at the immediately defensive pig, the tiny test pilot spat out the words. "No, ye daft clotted hairbrush! Ye and me were a pair of happy-go-lucky drunks last month, and lookit us now- we're literally an immediate family! The goddess of families is onboard, and one of the things that joost happens around her is that baby Minotaurs are born. Which ye and me are surprisingly aces at taking care of! Dunnit strike ye as even joost a weeeee bit strange, this sudden shift in our dynamic?"

Listening, Gavarus' eyes went wide as she flinched backwards slightly at her tiny partner. "Wait, you... you think that she... like... whammied us? Like... made us..." As the thought started to sink in, she started to work it around in her head. She knew how she felt about Fiona. It had to be real, but now she wasn't so sure. Suddenly, that seed of doubt was in there.

"Oh my gods, no. No way. That can't... No!" Now Gavarus was feeling confused and angry and suddenly scared and didn't know how to react. "You... you think we're... not real!?"

"Ahhhh, tut tut tut- I dinna say it weren't real. But it's origins mighta had come from some meddlin, and Meself, I'd like a word or two with Her High And Mightiness-" O'Dell was just winding up when Minerva cried, drawing both their attentions. Reaching out to soother the child with touch, O'Dell adopted soothing tones. "Nae nae yoo, dinna ye worry. Nothing's wrong, joost yer aunties would like a word with a cosmic power on Deck 8, that's all."

Meanwhile, Gavarus leaned back looking at the baby she was madly in love with with a confused expression.

"I, ah, I think the Commander has say over who comes and goes from there, and I don't think you have access, all due respect ma'am and ma'am," Jablonski admitted, trying to show deference to the two unusual officer's ranks. "I don't think you can barge in and ask her questions. Actually, I'm pretty positive of it, cuz that's a big part of my job, don'cha know.

"Well... The Commander's off ship for who knows how long, and..." Gavarus cleared her throat nervously. She didn't want to ask what she was thinking, but now she needed to know and the questions in her head weren't letting up. "YOU'RE her... Like... Uh... her personal guard. Can you talk to her?"

-=Meanwhile, on Deck 8=-

Hera had been researching modern childcare and cultural norms and writing a book adapting classical methods of raising a minotaur to modern standards and as she was finishing up the final pages of the large leather-bound, parchment filled tome, she was getting that twinge that meant that her name was being invoked.

Grinning, she pulled out another piece of parchment and dipped her quill into her inkwell once more to add a personalized note for the two drunks she had blessed and that the one she considered her general and possible priestess was talking with about her. It seemed they had some worries and fears about her powers affecting them and though she did... She only forced into the light what was already there.

As the red ink faded to black on the parchment, Hera blew on it to dry it before tucking it into the front cover of the tome. She then picked up the large leather-bound novel and with one fingernail, inscribed the mark of Taurus on the front. "I beseech you now. Go to my trusted General so that she may deliver you to your final destination."

And with those words, the book popped into the null space linked to Big Ethel's bracers.

Nodding solemnly, Hera shook off the sudden bout of weariness as she felt a small surge of energy for doing a good deed, a tender smile gracing her features.

-=Back in 10 Forward=-

It was about that time that the aforementioned tome popped out of Ethel's bracer, plopping heavily onto the table...

The tiny tot's eyes went wide with wonder as she continued to drool all over Ethel's blessed jewelry. Watching, Gavarus all but leapt out of her seat, curling her thick legs and disproportionately tiny hooves up in the seat as she let out a shout. "What the effin' @#$%!?!"

While she shouted, little Minnie tried to reach around the bracer still wedged between her gums for the book in front of her, grabby hands at the ready. Picking up the tome, O’Dell read the cover aloud. “How to raise a Minotaur: A Guide To 24th Century Parenting by… Hera?!?”

“Hera be praised,” Jablonski whispered, never having seen such a miracle before, but it was one that was definitely going into the book. Shaking it off, she looked between the odd little family as she addressed them.

“So, I guess it’s pretty clear she’s listening, since she sent this along. And with that said… look I can NOT speak for Hera. But I can say this much. You,” Jablonski pointed to Gavarus, “and you,” she pointed to O’Dell, “Are both odd and unique in your own way, but just how much you care about each other is something a blind woman could see. The fact that it took a date with me for you to realize that says a lot, yannow? And I don’t think Hera can create something where there was nothing. So if you have doubts about your own hearts, I seriously don’t think she CAN do that. I will say from my experience, I don’t believe she would do that. Remember, me getting bigger, the Amazon squad of Security, little Minnie here… these are all just things that happen around her. Like all of the families that are popping up onboard- Doc Dael is delivering babies every week it seems, and that’s definitely new.”

“Hera doesn’t make that happen, it just happens around her. She wants us to be happy- to know the joy of family, to have happy homes and kids and to be good women that do good works in her name- literally, as the starship is named after her. That’s what she told me, and I believe her. So you can be suspicious if you gotta. But really, the kid’s just adorable and you two are good at taking care of her.” Jablonski reached out to stroke the furry cheek of the babe with one very large finger, which made Minerva coo and giggle adorably, as if to illustrate the point. “Maybe that’s how you all ended up together, hmm? Just the universe falling into place, and not the will of Hera.”

“Hewa!” the Minotaur baby squealed, making everyone look at one another in somewhat wide-eyed disbelief.

Blinking, then looking over to O'Dell, Gavarus muttered awkwardly. "Yeaaaahhh, uh... I totally had her first words pegged as "Fookin' Shite." She mimicked Fiona's thick Gaelic accent, pointing out both of their foul mouths. "But... this is... this is frickin' weird."

"Uh... Fee." Gavarus tilted her head slightly. "There's a loose sheet of paper in the front. Like, not a page. Is that a note?"

Eyeing the loose sheet with some trepidation, the Mariposian midget tugged at the loose sheet, to reveal a sheet of fine stock paper bearing a handwritten message in a flowing script that was clearly quite practiced. Glancing it over, O’Dell’s eyes went wide as she began to read aloud.

“To The Most Entertaining Couple;

I have watched over those aboard this magnificent vessel that bears my name for some time now, and I must admit some fascination and entertainment in watching over the two of you in particular. Hence I have imparted unto you both my blessing of family and home. However, please know that there must have been something there to have been blessed, and that the love you share for one other is real, although I admit that my mere presence may have helped it along a little.

Over the course of my life, literally nine aeons now, I have yet to have seen a couple so perfectly matched in spirit and soul as the two of you. Although the Minotaur babe is the spawn of my infernal husband, likely to spite me... I am unable to muster a single shred of ill will or disdain for the young Minerva Carrott. If it is divine providence that she has come into your care, it is above and beyond my powers, rest assured.

As I have promised to Doctor Asa Dael, I have compiled all of my knowledge on raising a Minotaur child into this tome. However, I have studied modern childcare as well, and have tried to work the old ways into the new. Both methods are contained within the texts of these pages, with illustrations that I hope you will find illuminating. As you now seem to be the caretaker of the child by divine right (to likely be later confirmed by whatever governing body you are ruled by) the tome has been delivered to you, Briaar Gavarus of Tellar Prime and Fiona Mary Margaret Josephine O'Dell of Mariposa.

Use this knowledge with care and responsibility. I will be watching over you.

~Hera

"Uhhhh…" O'Dell said, rendered speechless in a rare moment. "So that's... well."

Looking at the letter for a long moment, Briaar had a thoughtful expression plastered on her porcine puss. She looked at Minnie and smiled. She looked at Fiona and smiled even larger. Then she looked over at Ethel.

She didn't have the same feelings that she once had for the mountain of a woman. But there was still something there. They were still unlikely friends and above all else, Briaar trusted Ethel. Ethel could have not understood or shot her down any number of times during the lengthy and protracted period after Briaar had first seen her and threw up on her shoes. Ethel could have hurt her in so many ways, and never did.

And deep down, while the discussion here had given her doubts, she looked back at Fiona and then at the gurgling bundle of fuzz that was smiling right back at her and she ultimately chose to trust herself.

She had struggled over her feelings for Fiona for what felt like forever and she would be damned if she was going to let this make her question that.

"So... wow. She sent the big book o' Minotaurs to... us. FOR us. Note from the author and everything. I guess that says something, right Fee?" Briaar said, half-sheepishly still. "She's... Meant for us. And... and... @#$& it... I'm not frickin' arguing with it. I love her "

The little lass they called ‘Leprechaun’ considered it all. The existence of a divine being on the starship Hera was unsettling to her, having been raised Catholic. But she had seen a great many things since leaving her home planet, and while she might wonder if the circumstances had been manipulated, the feelings were real.

Whatever the origins, Fiona wanted to spend her life with the grouchy pig-woman, who showed her tenderness and care she denied the rest of the world… save for the adorable bundle of hooves, fur, and horns that had almost accidentally entered their lives With Minnie, O’Dell saw a tenderness in Gavarus that inspired her, and she knew the big Tellarite would give her last breath to protect the little bundle of trouble that their lives were now focused upon. Considering all the facts, O’Dell arrived at a decision, at a speed usually reserved for a much higher blood alcohol level.

“Aye… well, she sent us the book, so looks like yuir stuck with us, Minnie Moo,” O’Dell explained to the toddler, who was still gawing in the bracer, but watched the wee spitfire with wide attentive eyes. “Whatever ‘governing bodies’ may have to say aboot it, seems ye were supposed to come to be raised by fairly odd parents, little one. So if a flying pig and a leprechaun are to be yuir parents, then I suppose we owe it to the universe to see yuir raised right, aye?” Looking up, O’Dell shot a glance at Jablonski. “Dinna think yuir off the hook, missy. Babysitting and PT when she’s old enough, aye?”

“Ah, sure, yeah… I don’t mind,” Jablonski replied with a smile, reaching for the bracer even as an ancient shortsword appeared on the table, much to Jablonski’s dismay. “Ahhhh, she’s not supposed to be able to do that without both bracers. And she really shouldn’t be able to do it at all, so… I’ll be taking that for now, little one…” Gingerly the massive muscled maiden removed the bracer from the grabby hands of the child, who was less than enthusiastic until a small stuffed minotaur plush doll nearly the same size she was appeared in Jablonski’s hand, surprising her for a second, before she offered it to Minnie, whose eyes lit up and she grabbed it to smoosh it to her.

“Well, alreet then…” Fiona added, a bit put off by things just appearing and disappearing without some sort of energy transfer. If she thought about it too much she suspected her head would explode, so this was one she figured she just had to take on faith.

"So, we'll finally find out what we should be feeding you and shit, right my little Minnie Moo? Right?" Gavarus leaned in and poked the tiny tot who was snuggling an even smaller plush version of almost-herself. As she did, Minnie scrunched her little face and giggled, bringing the plush toy up to cover her face as she did.

Smiling and snorting out a laugh, Gavarus put her hands on her knees and looked at the other two women. "Okay, so this is one of those times we should definitely be celebrating and shit, right? So, where the hell is the damn server?"

Turning, the testy Tellarite waved at the bar. "Seriously! C'mon, people! We were ready to order, like, half an hour ago!" And as she yelled, little Minnie clutched her doll, leaned towards the bar and blew a loud raspberry at the bar mimicking her Porcine guardian.

"Aye... back to normal... for us at least," O'Dell agreed before shouting at the bar. "Get her a beer before she eats this baby!"

"She is to receive proper medical care and treated with the respect due my apprentice."

"Apprentice."

The words of Riov Dalia Rendal echoed in Lieutenant Mnhei’sahe Dox’s head over and over, all night long in the quarters of the Warbird that was her prison for what had been a month now. The day before, Rendal had Dox brought to the Warbird’s gym to engage in a sword-fighting ‘lesson’ that the young Rihannsu Starfleet officer had done her best to fail at miserably. And fail she did, just not as she had intended, as Rendal successfully pushed her notorious temper to get out. And in doing so, Mnhei’sahe revealed that she did, in fact, know how to swordfight. And she revealed more than that. She revealed her anger, her training and her willingness to abandon the principles of Starfleet if pushed far enough. It was a devastating loss on many levels.

Since Mnhei’sahe had successfully kept Rendal from re-writing her loyalties artificially in the Neural Extraction Converter, the regal Rihannsu Commander had shifted tactics to a twisted version of what her grandmother had attempted and was now trying to shift Dox’s loyalties to the Rihannsu Star Empire the old fashioned way. And Dox was letting her try. It was the only way that she could think of that would keep Rendal from further torturing her grandmother and it was the only way to play out the clock and wait to be rescued. But Dox knew that time was almost spent.

Pacing angrily in the so-called VIP quarters she had been locked in again, she glanced out of the small window into space as the stars outside streaked by, slower now. The Warbird called the IRW People’s Will had slowed to what Dox assumed was approximately warp 2. The life long pilot knew that meant they were likely nearing the edge of the Eisn system and their final destination, ch’Rihan. She would be lucky if they were any more than a day away now and that day would be her last chance to keep herself alive.

Flumping onto the small couch attached to the wall that had been her bed, Dox let out a sigh. Once they reached ch’Rihan, she knew she would be lost. There would be almost no way for Captain Telvan to mount a rescue once she was on the planet, in the Tal’Shiar’s tender mercies. And once there, they would have infinite time to break her to their will. She might have beaten the Neural Extraction Converter once here on the ship, but she had no illusions that she could do so indefinitely.

As she sat there pondering, the door chime chirped. The chime was a new luxury that Rendal had implemented: pretending to give Mnhei’sahe some illusion of control over her situation. They were pretending to ask to come into the room she was still locked in.

“Come.” Mnhei’sahe said flatly as she stood back up and straightened the black undershirt of the partial Rihannsu uniform she was given to wear (another not too subtle bit of indoctrination) and pretended to be respectful as the door opened and Rendal’s second in command, Erei’Riov Arrenhe t'Suil stepped in, arms folded behind her back.

The SubCommander had been noticeably upset when Rendal had called Mnhei’sahe an ‘apprentice’. Clearly, a title t’Suil herself felt was her own and Mnhei’sahe, in her anger, stoked that fire a little bit. But t’Suil has restored her military composure and stepped to the side of the open door. There was a single Centurion standing outside with his weapon holstered who was standing to the side as t’Suil gestured to the opening of the chamber. “If you would, the Riov would like to speak with you in her Command Suite.”

It wasn’t a choice, but the SubCommander was making every effort to make it appear as such and Mnhei’sahe decided to not press the point or antagonize the woman further with snide comebacks, for which she had plenty in her mind at the moment. Instead, the Starfleet pilot simply nodded and stepped into the corridor with her arms folded behind her back.

Once in the corridors, she was being escorted through the heavily guarded Warbird more like a guest than a prisoner now, and the distinction made the hair on the back of Mnhei’sahe’s neck stand on end. Rendal was attempting to groom her, obviously. Make her cage feel welcome and inviting. And in her desire to stretch the clock out, Dox was letting her try, which she knew was a very dangerous gamble. After all, it was a very short distance between pretending to be compliant and simply being compliant. She knew this all too well from her time at the academy but had run out of other options. And after a few minutes of awkward silence, Dox arrived on the Warbird’s command deck and the commander’s office located to the side of what Dox realized was the ship's bridge on the other side of the bulkhead.

For a moment, she thought about if she could get that disruptor out of the Centurion’s holster and rush the bridge long enough to send a message to the Hera. But the ridiculous thought passed as she took in a breath and reminded herself that her best option was to try and outlast her captors. Use the discipline she had been taught as a Starfleet Officer to maintain her composure and her training from Sonak to maintain her own mind. Then, the door in front of her wooshed open, and there at the desk in front of her, stood Riov Dalia Rendal. The Tal’Shiar Commander that stole command of this ship from her grandmother, Senator Verelan t’Rul. The woman who ran her sword through Mnhei’sahe’s father’s heart right in front of her. The woman who had the audacity to call Mnhei’sahe her ‘apprentice’.

"So good of you to be punctual in your arrival. That is truly an admirable trait to have. May I offer you some refreshments?" The Royal Riov motioned towards a small serving tray with a few unmarked bottles of various blue and green liquids in them and a pair of tumblers.

Glancing at the tray, Dox was sorely tempted. On top of the impossible tension of her situation, the young Starfleet Lieutenant had also spent the last few months dealing with her drinking problems and this was the last place she needed to slip. Stepping into the room, t’Suil and the centurion stayed outside as the door slid shut leaving only Dox and the Riov in the space.

“No thank you, I’m fine.” Dox replied, maintaining her facade of respectfulness that she had become extremely good at keeping up after her weeks here had forced her to refine that skill.

Rendal just shrugged and poured herself a glass of one of the bottles, downing it quickly, the alcohol fumes visible as she did so. "Ah yes... There's nothing like a properly handcrafted one-hundred-year-old kali-fal. It truly puts any of the mass-produced knave to shame. Including Praetor's Reserve. They say that after the first eighty years, it loses that blue tint and turns green and that's when you know it is truly a vintage worthy of being called the finest in the Imperium."

"Anyway, I'm sure you're wondering why I've called you here today." Rendal poured another shot of the same bottle into the same glass and offered it to Dox. "The Starship Persephone has contacted the Senate, claimed that you're one of theirs, and demanded your immediate release."

Pursing her lips slightly, Dox nodded away the offered glass and replied again, working to keep any hint of warble out of her voice, “No, thank you.” The best Kali’Fal she had even had as ‘Praetor’s Reserve’, a gift from Enalia Telvan back before she had stopped drinking and could smell it in Rendal’s outstretched hand. Instead, she pushed the thought out of her mind and focused instead on Rendal’s other statement. Both women knew Dox’s assignment was to the Hera, not the Persephone. It was approximately nine months ago that Dox and Rendal first encountered each other on Starbase 336 when the Hera had taken the base from her, though the two had never interacted. “And what is the Senate’s position?” She replied simply.

Rendal downed the glass before any further flavor evaporated, the overall level already having dropped at least a millimeter during the interaction. "Their official stance is one of plausible deniability. They know nothing of your grandmother's kidnapping of you so they've promised platitudes of 'looking into it' for now in the interests of staving off the potential for war."

"They also mentioned your mother, but it was made clear that if she was indeed captured by the Tal'Shiar, it would have been to make her pay for her crimes as a traitor to the people of ch'Rihan and she would not be returned." The jade faced woman returned the glass to the small tray and placed her hands on her hips, not entirely unlike a certain Trill captain. "So congratulations. You being here is a potential war crime. If you'd care to review the Senate's conversations with the captain of the Persephone, feel free to do so."

“Looking into it?” Dox replied flatly. “So, I am to be lost in the system for now, I take it? Pending whatever official story will eventually come out, depending on my actual fate. I would have to assume when my Grandmother’s goal was my integration into Rihannsu society, that some story was in the works to justify all this. Was I to eventually be declared a willing defector?”

Then, the young pilot shrugged slightly. “And yes, I would like to review the conversation whenever possible. Thank you.” She had to admit, at least to herself, more than a little curiosity with the specifics of the tactics that Starfleet was employing in this situation. She understood that since the Hera didn’t officially exist, that they couldn’t claim her directly, but was curious as to who exactly was speaking for her on a ship she knew nothing about.

Rather than replying directly, the Royal Riov stepped over to the desk and pulled up the recording and began playback. One of the senators came onto one half of the holographic riser screen while a stony-faced Cervan woman in a red Starfleet uniform came up on the other half. "The discussion is rather long. I recommend having a seat." Rendal did so herself, adjusting the sword at her waist as she sat on the couch on the other side of the office.

The royal Riov had ignored Dox’s more relevant question regarding her fate, of course, and Dox logged that in her mind as she sat on the seat in front of the desk to watch the screen where the initial negotiations regarding that fate were to be discussed.

The Starfleet officer that introduced herself as Dox’s superior officer called herself Captain Naraan Seria. Dox had never seen the woman before in her life, and the realization sank in that she was about to watch to people lying to each other quite officially. A cheep game of poker played with her life and future. And that was exactly what began to unfold. Captain Naraan read off the list of accusations dryly as if reading a script designed to be as indirect as possible, and the Rihannsu Imperial representative on the other side of the screen, an older slightly pudgy woman with graying temples and the typical, half-lidded expression of contempt common among her people who identified herself as Deihu Teria t’Nargia, gave back the canned answers just as Rendal had summarized.

Mind-numbing recitation of treaty details and specifications, read as if reading baking instructions for a cake, came from the Starfleet Captain who did her level best to sound like someone who actually cared about Dox’s fate, all the while, feeling faker than the Romulan Senator. Retorts and denials from the Imperium were the standard and predictable responses.

Then came the mention of her Mother. Captain Naraan had politely requested Jaeih Dox’s return as well and the cold-faced Deihu flatly refused. She didn’t directly admit that her mother had been taken but stated uncategorically that if she was in Tal'Shiar custody, that she would not be returned as she was considered a fugitive of the Imperium and was to be punished accordingly.

Then, a knot tightened in her stomach as Captain Naraan… conceded the point. In the interest of 'avoiding the potential of increased hostility between the Federation and the Imperium.' The facade of impassioned observation Dox had been maintaining dropped ever so slightly as her eyes went slightly wide. Starfleet’s official position in these negotiations was that Jaeih Dox… her mother and an Intelligence Operative for the Hera... was expendable.

It was hard for Riov Dalia Rendal to disguise the hint of a grin that threatened to grace her features, but she endeavored to do so nonetheless as the recording ended. "It seems that the Cervan woman... Captain Naraan, was it? Is an intel officer first and a diplomat last. Her orders are indeed clear and like all Cervan, she seems to stick to them well. Of course, our spy aboard her ship informed us that she would be easy in such negotiations in her profile assessment."

"As for your future..." Rendal paused a moment, letting things sink in a bit more. "It seems you'll be spending quite a bit more time as my apprentice. How you spend that time is completely up to you. So... will it be spent at least pretending to be a loyal and honorable daughter of ch'Rihan? Or will it be... Difficult?"

On that first day, her grandmother had said it quite clearly: ” realize that this was all planned rather precisely, and that nothing was left to chance.”

So, of course, they had an operative even on a ship that Dox had never heard of that they somehow had predicted the involvement of. And now the embattled Lieutenant had to wonder if there was one or more on the Hera? She had no idea and that idea began to take root in her mind. As she thought, working to slide that mask back in place, she felt a light sweat break out and her hands felt clammy. She rubbed them on her knees and took a breath, looking long now at the tray of drinks still off to the side on the table, biting her bottom lip slightly.

The federation was playing politics with her life. But that wasn’t Enalia. That wasn’t the Hera. She had to keep her faith that Enalia and Rita wouldn’t let her down. She had to keep reminding herself that they would be coming for her, come hell or high water. And she had to stop thinking about those bottles on the end of the table.

“You said I would be allowed to send a message… curated, of course… to my wife. Would I be correct in assuming that this message would also state that I am not here by force and that no treaties have been violated? That I am here... willingly?” Dox said, trying to keep staring forward, her eyes fixed on the now blank space where the screen had been. Fixed on anything but Rendal or the bottles.

"That would certainly make things easier," Rendal confirmed, not moving from her location on the couch, her royal accent stretching out her words just a bit further than normal. "In fact, I have confirmation from our spy that the Persephone is on the edge of the neutral zone awaiting further contact from the Senate and that the Hera is there as well... using that wondrous stealth plating. If you'd like, you may record a message now and after it's cleared by my crew... I will transmit it personally to your captain and wife."

Listening, Dox wanted to say ‘I’ll tell them myself when they rescue me!’ but the words stuck in her throat. The Hera was still on the Federation side of the Neutral Zone. She was the ships Chief Flight Control officer. She knew exactly how fast her ship was. And as she did the math in her head, she realized that if the Hera were to launch at ch’Rihan at maximum warp at that very instant, they would be at least two days too late. And that was if they miraculously encountered no resistance from the Rihannsu military along the way.

She couldn't believe it. She WOULDN'T believe it. That the Hera was waiting. That Enalia and Rita were waiting. Waiting for diplomacy. That wasn't them. It couldn't be.

It can’t be true… It can’t be. They have to be coming… planning something. This is… it’s impossible. Dox’s mind began to swirl. Doubt creeping in for the first time in weeks that she would be saved. Instead, she looked again at those bottles and let out a long breath. She would have to save herself, somehow. Get back to Mona, somehow. Even if the Hera was willing to let her go, she wasn’t willing to let Mona go. She would figure out some way to get home… even if that meant she had no home to escape to.

Looking over to Rendal on the couch, she kept her face as dispassionate as possible. But her skin was clammy and pale and her eyes wide and her hands were shaking ever so slightly. As she spoke, the pain in her voice was palpable and the words weak. “That would be… premature. Considering that the Senate has yet to respond.”

"Indeed. Plus, it would be best if you were better composed. You look like you've seen Al'Thindor himself." Rendal then stood and comported herself as she moved towards the door to the bridge. "Shall we reconvene to the bridge? We've been cleared for a time slot for ch'Rihan orbit in eighteen hours, but we are in visual range now, if you feel up to it."

The words sunk in slowly, at first. They were in final approach. Visual range of ch’Rihan. Romulus. The homeworld she had only ever seen from orbit. It was all too much as she slowly rose to her feet.

Taking a breath, she tugged on her black top instinctively, smoothing it out, and closed her eyes for an instant to try and calm herself down. Her mind was the only tool she had left. The only weapon she had to defend herself with and she needed to keep it on her shoulders. After a long moment, she felt her blood fill her face again though her stomach still felt as if there was a knot of razor wire twisting inside of it. Turning, Dox nodded slightly and stepped over to Rendal, who had shifted to a tone that almost seemed compassionate, if such a thing were possible.

Knowing it was a game… that she was being manipulated… Dox did the only thing she could think to do and played along. “Ie, Riov.”

The Royal Riov simply nodded and stepped out onto the bridge of the D'Deridex class warbird, the door opening out onto the starboard bow corner of the bridge so that all eyes were on them as they arrived.

"Riov on the bridge!" came the instantaneous call. Those not seated came to attention immediately and those seated kept their heads down, preoccupied with their duties.

"Stations," Rendal replied, sending them scurrying back to looking busy. She then walked over to the large central command char and instead of sitting in it, she stood next to it and placed one hand on the back of it.

On the viewscreen was the emerald jewel of ch'Rihan, gleaming brightly with the system's sun not far off. Around it were several dozen ships, ranging from the Imperium's oldest T'liss and T'varo classes all the way up to the newest experimental Haakona warbird that dwarfed even the venerable D'deridex that the Imperial Navy was known for. "It is the dream of every Rihannsu child to one day sit in one of these chairs. If you wish to, I grant you the honor of doing so."

With weak knees, Dox stepped forward towards the center of the bridge. When she was a little girl, her cousin Lhi had given her a gift. A model of a d’Deridex-class Warbird that the young Dox had spent days assembling. She had downloaded copies of the ship's schematics and floorplans and studied them. For a lifetime before choosing the path of Starfleet, this had been her dream.

On the screen, larger than life, was ch’Rihan. She drank in every detail. The lights of the cities in the shadows across its terminator. The turquoise seas beneath the swirling clouds. The fields of lavender and green. All the places she had longed to see and longed to stand that was now looming before her, no longer a promise, but a threat.

Eighteen hours was all that she had left. Eighteen hours and she would be moved there, likely never to leave. The thought filled her mind with an awkward mix of wonder and terror that made her almost want to throw up as she stepped towards the chair and reached slightly forward.

As her fingers touched the cold metal, it was like a shock of electricity went through her. She knew Rendal was watching her. She knew the crew of faces, somehow both strangers to her and yet her own people, were fixed on her actions. She knew the Centurions flanking the turbolift doors would act if she had tried to do anything except what Rendal had given her permission to do. But as she touched that chair, everything else had vanished for her in that moment. It was her and the chair. The command chair of a d’Deridex-class, Rihannsu Warbird. The ship she dreamed of, but not the chair. Slowly, her eyes turned up and past the command chair that Rendal had been offering as she glanced over to the helm.

Mnhei’sahe Dox was many things. She was a wife. A fighter. A friend. A Lieutenant. But one thing that she had been since she was no more than ten… was a pilot. A pilot that wanted back on her own ship, at the helm custom-designed by her bond-mate. The chair she had earned. Focusing on that made the resisting that temptation easier. Lifting her hand off the chair, she composed herself again, and looking back up at the screen, she replied with a bit more strength in her voice. “Dreams are earned, Riov. To sit here… though an honor… would be unearned.”

Inside, Rendal was quite pleased. While she had hoped that Dox would accept, the reply that she did give showed an intelligence and wisdom far greater than she had given the woman credit for. "Wisdom befitting both my apprentice and the heir of house Rul."

As the Runabout Selune zipped through the particulate tail of a remarkably slow-moving, large comet. The Selune had been dispatched to get samples of the passing comet, simply designated Comet X/2367 D4, that long-range sensors indicated had some sort of biological matter on it. This piqued the interest of the Hera’s resident Biologist, Ahreva Malana.

The Ashravena science officer was something of an observer of life, and as the Hera was simply parked near the edge of the Romulan Neutral zone waiting, and the Comet was well away from the ship on the Federation’s side of the zone, a brief sojourn was approved and a pilot was assigned to take the stony science officer out to get samples.

Said pilot was the three-armed and three-legged Edosian, Ensign Weiaex. From the helm, she had one hand on the helm, one was brushing her mid-length, cream-colored hair that grew from beneath the segments in her exoskeletal skin from her face, while the third was wildly waving in the air as she spoke.

The orange-skinned pilot was quite notorious in the Hera’s Flight Control Department for her talking. She talked fast, she talked loud, she talked a LOT, and she talked with her hands. “I got a cousin that’s a biologist, actually. Always used to get into messes as a kid. Running through the woods or going off-world and always coming back a hot-mess. Covered in some kind of gunk or moss or something. He called it ‘collecting samples’, I just think he liked getting into weird places and didn’t care for the mess. Found something weird stuck to his butt one day and started investigating the weird stuff he found and just kinda fell into the field, ya’ know? What about you? How’d you get into science?”

"My people are born into observing biologicals. I chose the path of the heretic and interact with biologicals during that observation to... Soothe an itch in my soul." The small gaps in her new friend's speech patterns were small so she took the opportunity to speak when it was afforded. Meanwhile, she was monitoring the sensors, allowing the feed to fill her other senses in a zen-like manner.

"So, wait? You talkin' to people makes you a heretic? Heh, that just makes you interesting at my family reunions. Seriously." The fast-talking pilot felt like Malana's speech patterns were almost ridiculously slow for her normal speed, but she talked faster than she thought anyway and found the quiet biologist fascinating in a weird way. "So, an itch in your soul, huh? I know a little about that. As for me, I just like talking to people. Finding out what's going on in their heads. What makes 'em tick, ya' know?"

As she talked, oblivious to the irony of her last statement, Weiaex just kept going talking with two of her three hands now. "Is that the deal? You watch and listen and pay attention to what the rest of us are up to and learn from it?"

"Basically, yes. All my experiences and memories are forever in my mind and as long as I am able to return to my people someday, I can add my knowledge to theirs. My people often go about the universe and secretly position themselves as statues or landmarks for hundreds or thousands of years among what we would consider primitive biologicals before returning home." Malana may speak slowly, but she measured her words carefully. "Though I am banished for my acts of heresy, I still hope to do the same, or at least give my memories to one of my kin as I pass."

"Banished? For getting into conversations?" the orange-skinned pilot turned with a surprised expression. "Are you serious? That's some seriously messed up stuff there, Doc. Still, I guess that's about right for this ship...well, back on the Hera. I mean, I don't know if you noticed but a lot of folks on the ship have seriously messed up families. But I dunno. How much can you learn about ANYone if you never talk to them? Never find out how they respond to stuff, never find out what they think about you. It's all... abstract data otherwise. Which, I guess is more scientific, but way more boring, ya'know. At least that's what I think, but I'm not a scientist, I'm just a pilot."

"The oldest of my people are millions of seasons old. When you sit and watch a warp-capable society grow up around you... die without ever knowing your race existed... and watch the planet slowly heal over thousands of seasons... You have a different perspective." The stone woman looked up out the window of the runabout to take in the stars. "And though I am a mere nine thousand seasons old, I still carry within me the racial memories of those days. In a way... I think... My interactions with everyone among the stars... May bring me closer to understanding those that once inhabited my world."

"Like you said, perspective is everything. It's why most species don't get their heads out of their rears until they get off their own planet and meet other races, I think. Perspective. And you've got nine thousand seasons of perspective on sitting, so hey. Not sitting and interacting seems like a good idea to me." Weiaex said, all three hands off of the helm as the ship was on autopilot and she was waving them through the air wildly as she spoke, "Change that perspective so you can compare the two. Wow, nine thousand. Wait? Seasons? Now, I grew up on a planet with six seasons in a year that's about a hundred and ten more days than the Terran calendar. Took me a week to figure out how old I am according to that calendar. And either way, I'm not that old. But anyway... Sooooo how does that work out? Is it four seasons to an average year, and your.... math, math, math. two thousand, two hundred and fifty earth years old, or is it 'seasons' to mean a full rotation of seasons? Same year length or how does that work?"

Malana couldn't help but smile as she'd had to do the math as well when she was accepted into the Federation as an envoy of her people. "Four seasons are slightly longer than one of your Federation years. With time measured in such long periods, it's hard to measure how long it's actually been, but I believe I am around twenty three hundred Federation years old. To us, counting seasons is like counting days to you. As you would count the rise and fall of a sun, we count the change in the color of the leaves... The grass... The snow..."

"Wow. That's a long time. The oldest person I knew before you was my Vulcan history teacher at the academy and he was, like, a hundred and fifty. And he never shut up about it, and I know a thing or two about not shutting up, of course." Weiaex pointed all three thumbs at herself with a grin. "Of course, he had a lot more to talk about that I generally do, but of course, there's that perspective thing. He was a history teacher and he knew the facts and the dates, but no perspective of the why things happened because he couldn't process the emotions... the motives that defined history on all the different planets he studied. But then, he could view those events dispassionately, so it was a totally different perspective from that point of view. I guess it takes all kinds to make up the universe, ya' know?"

"I do know. I am grateful for the knowledge and wisdom I have gained interacting with biologicals. I know it has shortened my lifespan with so much movement... But I consider it more than worth it." Malana grew silent once more as she redirected her attention once more to the sensor feed.

The talkative Edosian opened her mouth to reply and noticed the biologist's attention drawn on the screen and pursed her lips and made a hissing noise as she took a breath. "So, I guess I'm going on. Everyone tells me I go on and, like I said, I know I talk a lot and I'm not trying to mess with your work, so I can zip it with the best of them if I have to. That said, do you need me to get closer to the rock? I can probably bring her another... twenty meters if you need me to. This bird is seriously well-tuned. All our runabouts are tighter than anything I ever trained on. Props to the chief, I guess. Or, I guess, to what's her name that does the maintenance for the department. What's her name, the Tellarite from engineering. Of course the flight controls are all custom and that's on Ensign Gonadie, so..." And, again, the pilot caught herself and stopped. "Sorry. Still talking. Yeah, this is me stopping. Let me know what you need be to do with the bird, Doc."

The stone woman smiled softly as she activated the transporter, filling a small sample container in the back. "No, sorry, I was just enjoying just sitting here and watching. Thank you, my friend. I have the sample and all the data and we may leave whenever you'd like."

Immediately, the Edosian pilots three hands prepared to take the helm controls again as she smiled and nodded. "oh, okay, Doc. I can bring her..." But then, she paused again.

Looking over at the gentle smile of the quiet woman, possibly tens of thousands of years old, Weiaex stopped to think about what Malana was saying. Not just the words, but the meaning. Something about her stillness made the hyperactive orange woman consider her own speed with which she did everything. And instead, she pulled her hands back and waited.

"The ship ain't going anywhere, and I guess it's a hell of a view, riding in the tail of a comet, right. We... we can just sit and watch for a while longer "

And for just a moment, there was a silence in the Runabout. "Am... Am I doing this right?"

"Shhh..." When Malana spoke, it was in a soft, slow voice. Her words almost took on a trance-like quality. "Just let everything settle around you. The runabout. Me. You. The comet. The stars. We are all part of the whole. One and the same. Take them in and let them become a part of your whole experience. See the comet in yourself and see yourself in the comet. One is all and all is within you." This was the first time she had tried to explain how her people truly viewed the world around them to another and she wasn't sure if it would process well with words, but she felt a need to try, nonetheless.

"Okay, so it's like meditaaa..." Weiaex started to talk as a knee-jerk reaction before stopping herself and whispering. "Right. Shushing. Being one."

And with maximum effort, the chatty Edosian who didn't know how to process silence, found herself trying to do that and so much more. Recalling Malana's words, she tried to think about the ideas expressed. She tried to see those connections between all things. And as she did, she found her mind wandering off in what felt like ten different directions.

Okay... she thought. Everything's made of the same stuff. Everything's connected. The comet is me and I'm the comet. And we're all the same and it's all there. And .. and if I can see those connections than... Then I'm not doing this right. But I guess I can keep trying and maybe it will come to me. Or I'll fall asleep and forget why I was doing this. But she's super calm, and it's really hard to not say or do anything ever though..."

More time passes as the Ensign tried to calm her mind as seconds turned into minutes and into hours. Or, according to the clock in the display above her, one minute and thirty-five seconds.

Letting her jaw drop slowly, Weiaex pursed her lips, and tried again. After all, it was all about perspective. And she was raised to be vocal all the time, which made NOT talking uniquely difficult. But she was committed to try, sitting next to her new friend in silence.

"The breath of life is in all things," Malana added finally, her voice almost a whisper. "It took us millions of seasons to learn how to see it and millions of seasons more to learn that it doesn't take that long to see it. Feel that breath within you and how it extends through you to everything around you. Even open space is full of the promise of life. Breathing. Waiting. Watching. Just as you watch."

Listening, Ensign Weiaex looked out the window of the Selune. Against the darkness of, she watched the glowing blue gasses of the comet's trail swirl around them. Beyond that, the starts sitting the perpetual night of space. She heard her own breathing and the light clicks that came from the harder segments of her own carapace as she moved. She felt the hum the Runabouts engine and something that wasn't quite breathing even from the otherwise silent Malana.

The tried focusing on all of that to find that connection her hew friend had spoken of. Then those thoughts went back to everything the still Ashravena woman had said the last few minutes that she herself had stopped talking. And as she thought, one of those thoughts started to roll around in her brain.

And after a minute, that thought birthed a warm, friendly smile that bubbled out into a chuckle then a full laugh. Letting it out, Weiaex turned to the thoughtful, millennia-old woman sitting next to her with a smirk and a raised brow. "Heh... Who woulda imagined. I've been sitting here listening for the last few minutes... And you've been doing all the talking. How's that for a perspective shift?"

"I think it's a very good start," Malana replied with a soft smile. "Especially for one that lives so fast. It is an accomplishment to be proud of."

Before she left to transfer, along with the entire senior staff, to the Artan-loaned Bird of Prey the Golden Ghost on their rescue mission to Romulus, Captain Enalia Telvan left a young male Efrosian lieutenant named Willaby in command. And so far, it had been an uneventful command.

All the Hera had to do was sit and wait near the edge of the Romulan Neutral Zone. She didn’t have to go anywhere or do anything. The other Intel ship, the Persephone was handling the official Federation negotiations with the Star Empire. The Captain’s primary standing order to the young Lieutenant was simply to keep the ship in good working order for her eventual return.

So far, so good.

Nothing of particular interest had occurred, and all seemed well on the half-staffed bridge. Petty Officer Liu was working the security and tactical console and looked like she might fall asleep at any given moment. A young Bolean named Ensign Torm was at the Engineering station looking exceedingly busy. Ensign Rando was cooling his heels at the Ops station monitoring communications and general sensor data from the unusually quiet Neutral Zone. And at the helm, was the red-headed spitfire, Ensign Fiona O’Dell.

The pint-sized pilot was an ace in the Cyclones and the only pilot rated to fly the experimental Banshee craft, the successor to the Thunderchicken prototype on the Hera. She was a test-pilot at heart and generally worked in the R&D department, but today, with the Hera somewhat short-staffed, she had been assigned to Bridge Duty. Which of course she found to be a colossal bore as there was no piloting to be done, just sitting… and watching… and struggling to remain awake. So there she sat, as quietly as was possible (at least for the loquacious loudmouth) for her. Meanwhile, she typed away on the console, text chatting with her partner-in-crime and life, the irascible junior Engineer, Ensign Briaar Gavarus, who was down in Main Engineering holding down the fort for the ship’s Chief Engineer, Lieutenant Commander Thex sh’Zorathi.

Which was when she noticed the Lieutenant returning from yet another break, looking pale and ashed and not at all well. Debating, she chose a course and followed it.

“Lieutenant Willaby, are ye alreet? Ye look a bit green at the gills, if you’ll pardon the expression and with all due respect, sir.” O’Dell had turned in her chair to review the sweaty white-haired officer who looked like he was liable to collapse at any moment.

“I’m fine, just… must have been something I ate…” the Erfosian officer began before his cheeks bulged as his mouth filled, and he dashed off to the reclamator.

“Fine me Aunt Petunia, that man’s sick as a dog,” O’Dell muttered under her breath, texting to details to her porcine partner 23 decks below. When the officer in question returned a few moments later, he looked even worse, a large sweat stain running down the front of his uniform tunic. Or at least what she hoped was sweat, as the faint whiff of vomit accompanied him- a scent the professional drunkard knew all too well.

“Lieutenant, sir? Nae ta be tellin ye yuir business, but might ye consider checking into the medbay? Ye dinna seem to be getting better and… ach, there he goes again,” O’Dell remarked as the Efrosian hurried to the reclamator again. In text, she debated contacting Medical anyway, but the advice of her more cautious partner reigned in that initiative, as she advised not to get involved.

Which was already too late, as the Efrosian appeared on the bridge once more, pointing to O’Dell and uttering five nightmarish words she had hoped she would never hear. “Ensign O’Dell, you have the conn.”

“What?!?” she burst out to the back of the retreating Lieutenant in disbelief and denial. “Surely someone else must have seniority sir…”

Reaching the turbolift, Willaby shook his head. “Not now, not at this hour. You’re the line officer, so the conn is yours until I return or you are relieved by the next shift.” The turbolift doors hissed shut at that, ending any other protestations that the tiny test pilot might well have voiced in argument of those facts.

With all eyes upon her, O’Dell stood up, tugged down her tunic over her flat chest and strode to the command chair. Briefly, she looked to see if it was adjustable, which it did not appear to be externally. So with what grace and dignity she could muster, O’Dell climbed up into the command chair, her feet dangling quite a few inches off the deck, looking to all the universe like a child sitting in the Captain’s chair.

Which was, coincidentally enough, precisely how she felt.

Logging into the chair’s armrest control panel, she noted her relieving of Willaby and spelling him in the command rotation even as she called for a replacement flight control officer, which she wondered just who might fill that slot on the roster. Meanwhile, she realized there were odd looks from all around at the sight of her in the big chair, and her face went flush.

>>Gavarus, can you come up here and maybe figure out how to lower the chair so I don’t look quite so much like a ten-year-old sitting in the Captain’s chair? Bloody Willoughby’s sick and the bastard left me in command of the bloody starship, and now everybody’s staring at me, and it might be a little easier if me feet touched the deck.<<

Meanwhile, IN Engineering, Gavarus all but spit out the spiked coffee she was drinking to get through the particularly long, particularly painful shift. The engineering crew had been putting in extra hours to get the Hera's engines back to inspection-ready condition after spending a solid week or so at maximum warp. And for reasons only the gods knew, Gavarus was put in charge of the repairs.

So suddenly, the least liked most obnoxious engineer on staff had to tell her co-workers... that privately cheered when her hours were split with the R&D department... what to do. Looking down at the message, Gavarus let out a sigh of relief. Going to the bridge meant not being the temporary Chief and she was thrilled as she typed in her reply, a smirk on her face as she couldn't resist a little dig at her partner and best friend.

Moments later, Gavarus' reply came through at the command station. >>Aye Captain Leprechaun. :D<<

>>Har de har fookin har. Keelhauling works great in space, so think on that, ye great rump roast<< O’Dell fired back. While she was mildly irked at the captain crack, internally she was already relieved that her partner in crime was en route. Not that she anticipated any actual emergencies. And if there were, she would take over the helm and pilot the bloody starship herself, great space whale though she be compared to the light and maneuverable fighter craft in which O’Dell was specialized. So as her anxiety amped down, the bridge replacement showed up, and her mood immediately soured again.

Ensign Edgar Mulligan Trelawney VII came from a long line of Starfleet officers, and naval officers before that. Crisp, polished and efficient, he was practically the polar opposite of the ragamuffin with the mop of unruly crimson curls that had been pulled back for bridge duty, yet still managed to make her look somehow sloppy. Perched in the oversized (to her) captain’s chair, she looked like someone who absolutely did not belong there.

Ensign Edgar Mulligan Trelawney, effete, polished and oh so very British, looked as though he was born to sit there. Polished appearance, not a single blonde hair out of place, uniform crisply pressed and shoes polished to a gleaming shine, he looked spot on. Which of course meant that seeing the slovenly O’Dell in the command chair made him bristle, even though he said nothing aloud. After all, he was nothing if not an officer and a gentleman.

Taking his seat at the helm, Trelawney tsked as O’Dell was still logged into the station, and that was not procedure. Which of course O’Dell heard, understood, and immediately caused her to fume. Bloody Tory git…

A few seconds later, the turbolift doors wooshed open and the two-meter tall Tellarite came on the bridge. Turning to the Engineering station, she smirked as the officer at the chair rolled her eyes. "Hey Tormy, take over in Engineering. McNally has some questions for whoever's temporary chief at the moment. And If I'm here, guess who that is?"

Shrugging, the Bolean who clearly didn't like Gavarus any more than the rest of the engineering crew did got up, logged out of the station and left the bridge in a huff. The bizarre display garnered a few raised eyebrows from the rest of the crew and an almost audible eye-roll from the helm. But Gavarus was, as usual, almost happy with the attitude she projected as she smiled widely and walked over to the center chair and proclaimed loudly, "Eeeeensign Briaar Gavarus reporting as ordered, Ma'amsirma'am."

She offered a cartoonish salute standing just to the side of the chair that caused most everyone to turn away, annoyed. But while she did, she leaned down enough for her other hand to casually tap in instructions on the command chair's console. And quietly, the chair began to lower ever so slowly. And thanks to her irritating entrance, nobody was paying any attention to that.

The wee O'Dell, on the other hand, was surprised when her feet came in contact with the deck, in what she deemed the smoothest ride of her life. "As ye were, Ensign. we'll have nunna yer tomfoolery on the bridge today. We have to be aboot the serious business of sittin' here starin' at this particular patch a' space, so's we're in position to receive tight beam transmissions joost in case innyone wants ta talk to us. Otherwise, these are the non-voyages of the starship Hera. Her indeterminate length mission- to go nowhere. To scan the surrounding space. To boldly go nowhere!"

Turning from the helm with a frown, his left hand trailing along the console, Ensign Trelawney frowned at the midget in the command chair, which now looked a bit more like a throne, with it lowered to her height. "Ensign, is that the sort of information you should be bandying about the bridge? Our mission is classified, is it not?"

Tilting her head, O'Dell adopted a pitying expression. "Truly, Mister Trelawney? Is there innyoone here who dinna know that was the current mission after we bin sittin oot here for night a tenday now?"

Petty Officer Liu did not, in fact, know that, nor did the knowledge make that much difference to her. However, she rather liked the obnoxious O'Dell, and she wasn't particularly willing to throw the little lass under the bus. So she sat with her game face on and waited, like the rest of the bridge crew, to see how this was going to play out.

"Also... it's the frickin' bridge, Trembley. We all kinda gotta know what we're doing." Gavarus added, walking around to the engineering station with a sarcastic sneer for the arrogant pilot that she had only ever seen once or twice, but hated on the basic principle of his being a jerk to her partner. "What, is Rando there supposed to be all secretive if he picks up something at opps?" Then she put on a fake, deep voice impersonating the opps Ensign, "Captain, the scan I'm not doing didn't pick up any signals that we wouldn't know anything about if they existed, wink wink."

“Regardless of your personal views on the situation, information is to be parsed out on a ‘need to know’ basis, particularly on the bridge. It’s in the General orders, after all, if anyone bothered to examine or heed them,” the stiff upper lip of the Englishman managed to make it sound scornful and condescending, all at the same time.

“Well, yuir more than welcome to write it oop as an incident report and submit it to the Lieutenant when she returns, and I’m sure it’ll all result in a loverly conversation I’ll forget in the grand scheme of things. So meanwhile, how aboot ye do yuir job, leave everyone else to do theirs and in the meanwhile, maybe try not to pick apart everything I say and dinna be so snarky because yuir nae the one sittin in the center chair, aye?” With a fighter pilot’s instincts, O’Dell raced through the logic, then scored a direct hit with her final shot. Clearly it was jealousy over the ‘slacker’ office being in the center chair instead of Trelawney. But then, she also had time in rate on him, having been an ensign for well over two years now.

From behind the captain’s chair, Gavaris made her eyes wide and held up both hands in chubby fists. Then, in one motion, opened them both up wide miming an explosion as she looked at the irritable Ensign at the helm and silently mouthed: 'Boom!'.

And not waiting for a reaction, she leaned over and whispered, "So... What should I be doin' over here, boss lady?"

“Dina ye start wi’ me or I’ll bring you non-alcoholic beer all night. The devil ye askin me for? I dinna even know how to lower the chair, forget aboot what the devil yuir supposed to be doin at the Engineering station. I barely know the list of duties for bridge duty at the helm, forget aboot yuir station,” Fiona hissed in a whisper that didn’t carry well at all. But she knew the ears of the irascible engineer were particularly sensitive, and she took advantage of it to communicate nigh silently with her best pal on the bridge.

Whispering back, Gavarus shrugged. "Okay. it's just... I've never actually worked this station before. Actually, I've never been on the bridge before. The chairs are sweet comfy. We only have shitty ass stools in engineering. And I don't like sitting on stools when I can't get drunk. I guess I can... I dunno... run diagnostics on shit."

As the hours passed, so too did the problems. There was the call from Yeoman Dedjoy for security to the Pod, to which O’Dell sent the Klingons since they had been quarreling in the gym earlier that morning, and Fiona reckoned that if there was an emergency, they seemed like the ones to send. Then came the call for power allotments from two different departments, and since the warp core was down for maintenance, they could only supply one. After a heated debate, O’Dell split the difference and they both got half of what they wanted, making neither party happy but shutting them up for now.

Then the core issues resulted in a brownout on the Bridge, leaving them in the dim emergency power, and unable to perform most of their duties. Once it was established from engineering that the power would be on standby until past the end of their shift, O’Dell did what came naturally, illustrating why she was most definitely not command material.

“Looks like we’ve need to kill time, then, aye? Alreet, we’re playing the Penis game. Take a vid title and substitute one word for Penis to make it funny- like f’rinstance, ‘Last Penis in Paris’. Next…?”

The Klingon security sisters of the USS Hera, Petty Officers V’Nus and S’Rina Wil’I’Ams, were not happy.
When they discovered that Lieutenant Dox and her mother had been kidnapped by the duplicitous Tal’Shiar, they had both anticipated being involved in the rescue. While the Dox’s were Romulan, the Lieutenant helped train much of the Security team in hand-to-hand combat techniques and they both enjoyed both sparring with the unexpectedly honorable woman. Both fought alongside her in battle.

That said, Dox was the exception to the rule regarding Romulans, as far as the Sisters were concerned, and they were quite looking forward to meting out some vengeance upon the Romulans that stole their Romulans. But the mission to Romulus was to be an undercover affair, and they were determined to be unsuitable for the more subtle duty. As such, they were left behind on the increasingly dull starship. And they were both itching for some action.

So when the call came in for security assistance up in the Hera’s secretive and mysterious pod, the two Klingon warriors all but knocked other security officers out of the way to take the assignment. In the turbolift, they were all but ready to burst out of their skins, weapons at the ready, hoping for something worthy of their attention.

“Sister, dare we hope some dread experiment is running amok, rending the feeble scientists asunder?” The taller and leaner V’Nus said with a smirk of anticipation. She was generally the calmer and more reserved of the two, but she was still Klingon, thus still bristling in their more calm duties.

“I would do battle with only tooth and claw at this point, sister. My blood burns for vengeance and my hands ache to do harm. Let us pray to Kahless that the scientists have stumbled across something Man Was Not Meant To Know, so it can meet its end at Klingon hands,” S’Rina growled, her frustration at their inaction having grown far past the point of irritability.

"This day, I would join you in that prayer gladly." V'Nus replied as they were scanned by the security system of the lift and cleared for entry into the Hera's pod. Once cleared, they quickly made their way to the labs of Yeoman Ila Dedjoy, phasers ready and anticipation on their faces, hoping for the worst. And as they got closer, there came a series of strange sounds from behind the closed doors. A Series of trilling, mechanical chirps, and loud bangs.

At the door, V'Nus entered her security override code, met her sister's eyes and slammed on the pad to open the door as both women drew their weapons and entered the lab with military precision, sweeping arcs of perception about the room. As they did, V'Nus' face went wide and the blood all but drained from her face as she cursed, "BaQa'!"

"Oh thank goodness! The perfect pair responded to my request!" Yeoman Ila Dedjoy was up on a bench with a fluid soaked patch wrapped around one hand doing her best to stay as far away from the half a dozen pregnant looking, one meter round, tribbles slowly rolling around the room. Each one had a few dark metal plates and tube-like structures that almost made them look Borgified.

"Here's your SITREP. They consume energy at an alarming rate and eat inorganic materials like the deck and me. Containment failed as they just absorbed the force field. Phasers just burn off the fur and feed them. A nullification field barely slowed them down." Ila took a deep breath and prepared for the kicker. "And they're each pregnant with at least fifty more."

Taking a slight step back, with her weapon still raised, V'Nus shouted at Dedjoy as the techno-organic Tribbles seemed to turn slightly towards the door, if tribbles had heads. "Where did these... things... come from? Did you MAKE them?!"

"They can't be contained by forcefields? They cannot be stopped with phasers? They eat everything and must be stopped?" Petty Officer S'Rina looked to the overhead as tears streamed down her face. "Kahless has answered my prayers this day." Flicking her wrists, the Klingon warrior gazed at the Tribbles lovingly as a mek'leth appeared in each hand. Closing the door with the pommel of her weapon, S'Rina of a house whose name could not be spoken smiled, a terrible, fearsome smile.

"Today is a good day for all of you to die."

As one, the tribbles screamed in that high=pitched warbling their race was known for, gave birth, and began rolling toward the Klingons- the one race in the universe Tribbles hated. They would even let a Gorn pet them if it fed them and did not eat them, which had led to Gorn restaurants and lounges offering that very thing. But in the present moment, the Tribbles were moving in on the Klingon warriors.

Tribbles that could eat everything- matter, energy... Klingons.

Turning to look at her more aggressive sister, V'Nus spared a smile in the moment, quite ready to join in the fray herself. "Sister, armor up. We must be at peak efficiency to ensure none of these creatures escape this room or harm anyone beyond. Yeoman, stay where you are..."

"This will be... messy." the leaner of the two sisters held her own arms out and flexed as her own preferred Bat'leth appeared in her hands and her EVA armor enveloped her from the mystical bracers on her wrists.

“I need no armor for this!” the sturdier of the two women declared, pointed teeth bared as she leapt in to begin carving up the furry abominations, cutting two in half quite messily and with a grinding that meant her blades were likely going to have nicks in them when she finished today. Nicks well earned, fighting the scourge of the Klingon Empire. “wo’ batlhvaD!!!”

Looking at the Yeoman's hand and the large chunks that have already been taken out of half the pieces of very sturdy metal equipment in the lab, V'Nus was not so eager to make it easy for these monstrosities to make a snack out of her. Still, she couldn't quite restrain her own excitement for this particular assignment. Raising her Bat'leth into a battle-ready position, she leapt across the room into the middle of the fray with a warrior's roar. "GRAAAAAGH!!!! To whatever hell you abominations call home!!!!"

With a swing of her weapon, she cleaved the first group of creatures in half with a spray of strange fluids and sparks. But three others had already spawned new Techno-Tribbles and more still began shuddering as they were about to do the same. The more controlled of the two kicked one of the smaller up in the air, and swinging her blade in a backhanded swipe, cleaved it in pieces like a batter would hit a baseball. As she did, more fluids sprayed wildly across the room soaking Dedjoy's legs and flying across her maddened sister's face.

The twin blades flashed as S’Rina moved, a low growl emanating from her as she stabbed, cleaved, slashed and even bludgeoned the obnoxious trilling parasites, slaughtering as many as she could come into c9ontactr with. Their juicy furry bodies gooshed as they perished, even as the survivors worked on reproducing faster, intuitively understanding that their only advantage was strength in numbers.

As well as consumption, as one managed the short hop from the counter onto S’Rina’s back, where it took a quarter-sized divit of flesh out of her, uniform and all, even as another bit through her shoe, claiming her big toe as a meal. Growling louder. S’ria stomped the life out of the toebiter, even as she flicked the one off her back with her blade.

“Perhaps armor is not the worst of ideas, sister,” S’Rina grudgingly admitted as she clad herself in her EVA armor, the standard black and white model, but with the Klingon Empire symbol on one the left shoulder pad in addition to the ‘twin tower’ Starfleet delta on the chest. It had been approved by the Commander, so she wore it with pride, even though they were not of the Empire, their family name long since stricken. But the sisters were proud of their heritage, and it showed.

Smirking as she jabbed down, impaling two Tribbles straight through that were trying to climb each other to get at the taller of the two women, V'Nus replied with a grin in her voice, "Indeed. The better protected we are, the more of these things we can KILL for longer, sister!"

Then V'Nus stepped back and did a count of the creatures and scowled slightly. "Sister! We have slain 8 of these in total, and there are now 12 more to contend with. They are reproducing too quickly. Some eating the remains of their comrades to fuel their spawnings. We may need to switch tactics."

Flipping her Bat'leth so that it magnetically fastened to the back of her armor, V'Nus flicked her wrist and her massive TR-116 Rifle appeared in her hands. "If energy weapons feed them, perhaps hollow-point, rapid-fire projectiles will be less appetizing. What say you?"

From the top of the table she was on, Dedjoy yelled, "NOOO!!! NO GUNS NOT IN THE PODDDDD!!!"

“Then we shall simply have to kill faster, sister. I have six- UHNGH! Seven… eight…” S’Rina continued muscling her way through slaughtering the rapidly reproducing rodents.

"Oh, very well." V'Nus sighed, flicking her wrist and making the rifle return to the bracers she wore on her wrists. "Then a challenge it shall remain. I shall have to endeavor to catch up, sister!"

Then, with a roar, V'Nus pulled her Bat'leth forward and lined up the tip of the blade with a row of Tribbles and barreled forward, impaling through four at once before slamming their corpses into the far wall. "NINE!"

In the history of warfare, both large and small, there have been a great many battles fought, and lives claimed. Seldom in the annals of Klingon history has there been an opponent more reviled, loathed and feared than the Tribbles, save for perhaps the Romulans. Seldom were songs sung round the fire of the Great Tribble Hunts, nor were there great accolades and honor to be gained. After all, the Klingons had decimated the homeworld of the Tribbles, and hunted the species nearly to extinction in the latter half of the 23rd century. But in the intel pod, on this day, a pair of Klingon warrior women acquitted themselves quite deftly, and murdered a full 39 techno tribbles, adapted to consume all forms of matter and energy.

What could have been a deadly infestation was now a gory, bloody mess.

Complete with two smiling, very satisfied Klingons.

“When you finish the autopsies, keep the pelts. We’ll want them,” S’Rina explained to the Captain’s yeoman. “It has been many decades since warriors claimed tribble scalps, and we wish to commemorate the honor. It is a... cultural matter,” S’Rina explained.

Nodding, V'Nus silently agreed as she picked up one of the drier corpses and wiped the fluids of the creatures off of her Bat'leth onto its fur.

Finally getting down from her workbench, Ila nodded solemnly, having expected them to make such a request. "I have an idea brewing in my head you might like. It's not exactly Starfleet issue... But if you like, I could fashion traditional Klingon battle robes from their pelts for each of you with a few surprises, if you're amenable." As she spoke, she picked up a scanner and checked over the bites in her hand, which were thankfully only superficial.

Turning to her sister, V'Nus raised an eyebrow and half-whispered. "I like the way this one thinks, Sister." Then she turned back to the wide-eyed inventor with a more professional expression. "I cannot speak for my sister, but I would be amenable to that, thank you. It would be a fitting prize, I would think. Is your injury severe? Do you require us to escort you to sickbay, Yeoman?"

"Oh no... I just need to replicate some new... I'll be ok. They didn't bite into anything important." Ila then set the scanner aside and gave them a slight grin. "So do you prefer a more Kahless era shoulder cloak, or the modern styling with all the regalia? Personally, I'm a fan of the high shouldered clean look that the females of Kahless' era wore. They're similar to the Principality Robes that those in my people's government wear, though ours are made from strands of toxic willow fronds rather than fur."

Grinning ear to ear, S’Rina completed one more circuit of the lab, scanner in hand, insuring that the only living things in the lab were Klingon or… whatever Dedjoy came up as, which was ‘technorganic’ according to the tricorder. Bowing slightly to the slender doll-eyed scientist, the Klingon warrior offered a surprising perspective. “Putting conditions and preferences to a gift of such a thing would be dishonorable. If you wish to reward us, we will accept your tribute as you see fit to offer it, and we will count our victories with the pelts of these p’tak vermin. Which we will wear with pride, for how many warriors alive today can make such a claim, that they saved a vessel from the likes of these?”

Feeling a bit of warrior's pride that had been absent for the last few months, V'Nus slapped her broader, more muscular sister on the back and let out a deep laugh. It was a sound that was a bit rarer for the more serious of the two, and a welcome sound. "Well said, sister! We look forward to your offering proudly, Yeoman Dedjoy. Now... this victory, I think, calls for Bloodwine! What say you both?"

The response was a groan. “You forget, Sister. We are Starfleet. Now there are incident reports to file, medical checkups, and the remainder of our duty shift to fulfil, if we are to be honorable. Now, after that…” the muscular Klingon woman grinned, a sight that was not welcoming nor reassuring in any culture, given her mein. “Oh yes, there will be bloodwine and songs. What say you, Yeoman? Will you join us in such celebration of our victory?”

"I will regretfully have to decline. Alcohol no longer agrees with me." Ila did her best to look disappointed, but offered at least a peace offering. "However, as Yeoman, I can authorize the use of the captain's stock of bloodwine for the occasion. She has a case of 2309 in storage on deck 8 for diplomatic events. I would say this more than qualifies. Just... Try not to drink it all."

"Q'APLA!" roared the Klingon warriors, even as the slender scientist joined in. This day would be retold, and songs would be sung- of the day the USS Hera was saved from accursed Tribbles, by the Klingon warriors who lent their strength and honor to her.

With Briaar Gavarus and Fiona O’Dell both on duty, neither was particularly trusting in the ships daycare facilities where their unexpected charge, little Minerva Carrott, was concerned. The minuscule Minotaur babe was more than a handful under the best of circumstances and with both of her unconventional guardians on duty, there were few places and people they felt comfortable leaving little Minnie with.

Few, but not none. After all, there was one crewmember that the pair both trusted as a friend, was more than physically capable of keeping up, AND had a direct connection with the same bizarre magics that had blessed little Minnie in the first place to have found her way to the midget Mariposian and the testy Tellarite. And that was Petty Officer “Big” Ethel Jablonski.

And “Big” didn’t quite do the over two-meter tall maid of muscle justice. Blessed and chosen as the Honor Guard and General of the Goddess Hera, Jablonski soaked up those blessings as was positively massive as a result. Which was even more interesting to see than usual, as she struggled to keep a hold of the fuzzy, giggling, tiny Minotaur wriggling like a greased worm in her oversized arms at the moment.With Briaar Gavarus and Fiona O’Dell both on duty, neither was particularly trusting in the ship’s daycare facilities where their unexpected charge, little Minerva Carrott, was concerned. The minuscule Minotaur babe was more than a handful under the best of circumstances and they had decided the facilities were insufficient for her needs. At least, after she had begun wrestling with the other toddlers, and caused an eye injury with one of her small but clearly already formidable horns. It seemed that not unlike her guardians, Minnie did not play well with others. Thus with both of her unconventional guardians on duty, there were few places and people with whom they felt comfortable leaving little Minnie.

Few, but not all. Because there was one crewmember that the pair both trusted as a friend, was more than physically capable of keeping up, AND had a direct connection with the same bizarre magicks that had blessed little Minnie in the first place to have found her way to the midget Mariposian and the testy Tellarite. And that was Petty Officer Second Class “Big” Ethel Jablonski.

“Big” didn’t quite do the over two-meter tall maid of muscle justice. Blessed and chosen as the Honor Guard and General of the Goddess Hera, Jablonski soaked up those blessings of the USS Hera’s resident goddess and namesake, and as a result her physique and physicality were positively massive. Which was even more interesting to see than usual, as she struggled to keep a hold of the fuzzy, giggling, tiny Minotaur wriggling like a greased worm in her oversized arms at the moment.

“No Minnie, come on now, I need to get this diaper on you… yes, I know it tickles, but… stop squirming, I don’t want to drop you… no, don’t put that in your mouth, no no no…!” Sighing heavily, Ethel was at a crossroads. It was abundantly clear to her that the tiny tyke, who was barely bigger than her rather massive hand, was more than a handful for her, and she wondered for not the first time in the past few hours, just how the irresponsible and seemingly perennially drunken pair of oddballs from R&D managed to do it when as a solo act she was already prepared to throw in the towel.

Which was when she got an idea… or more appropriately, a divine inspiration.

Hera.

The Goddess of motherhood and family, Hera would of course know what to do. The odd couple had been granted a boon in the form of ‘How To Raise Your Minotaur’ tome, which Hera had penned herself, so that they would be well equipped to raise the unusual child who had clearly been touched by the gods. Which Ethel had noted they had not particularly offered thanks nor praise to the Goddess, but that was between them and Hera, and none of her business. Their squealing, wriggling bundle of manure manufacture, on the other hand, seemed quite prepared for her destiny already, capable of commanding a Bracer of Hera- with only one, which was a feat no one could match. But now, trying to paint her fur in her own poop, Jablonski was at her wit’s end with the troublesome tyke.

But of course, the Goddess would know what to do.

Internally, she debated. As a rule Ethel Jablonski had never asked Hera for anything. She had offered her praise and worship, as it seemed due course. Ethel had been abundantly gifted by the Goddess, and she served her because she felt the love of the Goddess in her heart. She was benevolent, kind and maternal, and inspiring on more than one occasion. Selfless, noble, warm and caring, the love that Jablonski held for Hera was well-earned. Yet she had never asked the Goddess for anything… until now.

The squirming, now squealing and squalling infant was more than she could handle. Briefly she considered asking some of her peers from the department to help. But most of them were childless for good reason. While the Amazons of the Security team were still very feminine, most of not all were childless, and most seemed to have few maternal instincts, if any- Jablonski included. As the friendship she was developing with the R&D couple was important to her, as was stewardship of the young general who would one day take her place by Hera’s side, Ethel was determined not to let them down. But this was more than she could handle, and she knew she needed help.

Heaving a great sigh as Minnie laughed and peed, a yellow stream running down the off-duty petty officer’s arm, Jablonski admitted defeat. Rising from the disgusting table in her quarters, the mighty hulking maiden of the Hera made her way up the decks to Deck 8, and the VIP quarters of the Goddess whom she served.

Meanwhile, in Hera's VIP quarters, the matronly goddess was doing her best to prepare as well. It had been many years since she had even held a baby, let alone taken care of one for any length of time. She'd always delegated it to others since... Well... Since she herself had given birth.

And it wasn't like she could just do it like back on Mount Olympus, either. There were no ghostly servants to aid her and she wouldn't be able to use her powers. She'd have to do it all like the mortals. Mainly because she was limited very much the same way.

So when Ethel arrived, the door opening at her approach as she was clearly expected, she found Hera laying out a soft baby blanket on her dining room table, having moved everything off of it to a side table for the time being, and trying to figure out how modern diapers worked.

“Hera... help?” Jablonski asked plaintively as the manure-smeared minotaur was currently teething on Big Ether’s index finger, and when Jablonski made to set her down, the infant literally hung off her finger, like a dog with a bone. The big brown eyes of the bovine baby tracked between Hera and Jablonski as Hera burst out laughing at the sight.

"Oh my, well, let's see what we can do then," Hera replied as she gently took little Minnie with a tickle around her ribs so she'd giggle and release the mighty Ethel's finger. "Minotaurs are amazingly resistant to filth and disease... But let's not tempt the Fates and get you cleaned up, shall we?"

With seemingly practiced precision, the goddess of mothers pulled out half a dozen baby wipes out and got Minnie Moo cleaned up all without setting her down, then set her on a clean diaper that she somehow gently plopped the still giggling baby minotaur down on perfectly. Here she had a bit of trouble though, as she was still learning modern diaper technology. After a few tries with the side clasps she gave up and just used some tape, still not sure of how the sides were supposed to stay on.

"And there you are. Nice and clean." Hera leaned down and bumped her nose to little Minnie's with a smile, which caused the bouncing baby bovine to shriek with absolute glee, which settled into a loud half-squeal, half-moo. Then she reached out, three-fingered hands touching the face of her benefactor with a bit of wonder in her eyes, as babies were oftentimes not fooled by glamours. Whereas with Jablonski she had exerted herself, with Hera the tot was gentle and reserved, tracing lines on the happy face before her with delicate movements for a toddler, wide brown eyes staring into Hera’s own.

Watching the exchange, Jablonski heaved a sigh of relief with a small smile. “I’m so sorry, great Hera, it’s just… the girls asked me to babysit, and I want to help them out, and I know I have to watch over the little one, but… I don’t have any skills or instincts for this sort of thing. She wants to start pumping iron, I’m her gal. But diapers and bottles and what you should do with a baby… I, uh, don’t know any of that stuff.”

It was clear this was quite vexing to the gentle giantess who served as the captain of Hera’s Honor Guard, who knew as a matter of her faith that she would be called upon to help raise the child and teach her of her supernatural origins, and the Goddess whom had blessed her birth. But while Big Ethel shouldered the burden, this one pooped on it, and she just didn’t know how to cope with the situation.

"Don't worry about it. You know I'm here for you. If there ever comes a day when you wish to accept the blessings of motherhood and family, those too will be yours. Until that day..." Hera waggled a finger at the much larger Amazonian woman with a conspiratorial wink. "For now you're still an amazing role model for our young Minnie. So please don't fret, okay?"

“Uuuuh. I don’t think I’m cut out for motherhood,” Jablonski sighed, shaking her head. In truth, in the years to come, it was highly likely that she would either die defending the wee Minotaur from harm, sacrificing herself to insure the next generation would succeed and supplying one last heroic example for the impressionable bovine. Or she would lead a long and happy life, eventually surrounded by children and grandchildren. Either was just as likely, and given the interference in her destiny by forces acting outside of Fate, either outcome was just as likely to come to pass.

As for Hera, she would just keep mum and let things play out as they were wont to do. Telling Ethel any more would not help her, after all. In the here and now Hera needed her general, whom she suspected might just be her prophet someday. That, however, she could address.

“So I can’t help but notice you have been writing my name an awful lot, lately. Would you like to discuss that?”

At her words, the baby minotaur turned to look at Jablonski with her big brown eyes, blinking innocently.

Clearly nervous, Jablonski rubbed the back of her neck with one meaty hand. Eyes looking around the room, she sighed and settled for staring at the table. “Yeah. I’ve… I started writing a book about you. Well, about you, what you’ve said, the help you have given your miracles and stuff… yes, Goddess, I am writing a book about you. I just,” the big woman looked up, rushing to rationalize. “I want future generations to know about you, is all. Your works, your miracles, your good advice. You called Gavarus and O’Dell way before it happened, and gave me forewarning so I wouldn’t hurt their feelings. You saved that man on DS9. You protected the Commander and the Baroness and fought off Death for them. You’ve saved babies and mothers who might have been lost otherwise. You are always there for the Commander and the crew or anyone else who asks for your help. You wrote an entire tome on Minotaurs just so they could raise her right, and made sure to get it to the parents. Those are big, epic deeds, and the universe needs to know about them… with all due respect, ma’am.”

Her passion carried her that far, until Jablonski shrugged and sheepishly looked down at the table again, guiltily. “I mean, that’s my thought. But I won’t if you don’t want me to… but really, I think the universe and future generations will need to know.”

The matronly goddess couldn't help but smile brightly as she tried to pull Ethel into a hug, and ended up just moving herself into the hug instead. "My dear, I know you'll do it justice. Thank you. May the Muses inspire you and the Fates bring you closer to the truth."

“I’ll… I’ll do my best, Hera,” Jablonski admitted, wrapping the slender goddess in a gentle yet encompassing hug. The baby bovine, seeing there was loving going on, extended her three-fingered hands to make grabby motions, and Big Ethel smiled as she swept the toddler into the hug as well.

There, surrounded by a generation preceding and following, the farm girl from the high G planet considered, for the first time, that maybe she might just start a family after all. It was not the first time Minerva Carrott would inspire others to begin a family, and it would not be the last. For that too was one of her gifts- one of the many blessings bestowed upon the child, who was one of a few who would stand as evidence of the Goddess’ desire to amend her past misdeeds.

Which in part she managed by blessing the future with those heroes who had been touched by Hera- the Goddess who had been changed for the better, by her time aboard the starship that bore her name.

The Vice-Admiral sighed as he read the report again, shaking his head in disbelief. It seemed one of the junior admirals, whose promotion was up for review, was offering entirely too much leeway to one of the ships in the Intel fleet. And now that the starship was parked on the border of the Romulan Neutral Zone, it was exacerbating tensions. Which he would have been concerned over, had he not read the minor addendum that indicated the majority of the senior staff were not present on the starship, having undertaken a mission into Romulan space to the Romulan homeworld in an effort to rescue one of their own.

An act of war carried out as a suicide mission, to his reckoning. And in this Vice Admiral Jeffries was not alone.

“Lieutenant Q’urga, get me Admiral Forsyth and Admiral Meowlith on a 3-way subspace call, priority alpha. And if Meowlith is ‘too busy to talk’ tell her that her commission is suspended pending this call,” the admiral ordered. He’d gotten tired of being put off by the renegade admiral, and today he was doing something about it. And if she didn’t want to discuss it, he’d remove her and deal with the issue himself. An old-school hardliner, Vice Admiral Jeffries wanted answers, and he wanted them now.

He’d by god have them, or he’d have that smirking Vulcan’s career.

After a few long minutes, the Admiral's screen chirped with an incoming call, and on the screen was an older woman with a shock of silver hair worn slicked back and had a half-lidded, irritated expression on her long, lined beige skin. Sighing, Admiral Forsyth spoke, "Vice Admiral Jeffries. Is this in regards to what I think it is? the Romulan situation?"

"What was your first clue? The fact that we're supposed to be on a 3-way call, the reports that are coming across your desk from the Neutral Zone? The diplomatic inquiries from Romulus? I mean, I assume you read the reports and the attendant material. I know my office distributed them to yours. That Starbase situation? Kidnapping? Forbidden technologies? What exactly is going on out there?" While information and its dissemination, analysis and decisions were all part of the function of the admirals of Starfleet Intelligence, no one read everything that came across their desk, and Admiral Forsyth was no exception. And it was a habit of Admiral Jeffries to reference factoids of reports months apart, as he had a clear picture of what he was talking about even when his vague references didn't explain his train of thought to anyone else.

The privilege of rank, apparently.

The 2-Star Admiral on the screen actively didn't roll her eyes to the superior Vice-Admiral who's stream-of-consciousness rant was the standard operating procedure for the man she knew well enough to expect it from. "Yes, Admiral. I read the reports. I was just reviewing the last communications from Captain Naraan of the Persephone with the Romulan Senate. Never have I watched so much of nothing being said for so long. But at least as long as nothing conclusive is being admitted to by either side, it's likely they aren't angling for war."

That was when Commodore Meowlith was patched in, completing the 3-way call. "Admiral Jeffries, Admiral Forsyth... As always, it is an honor." She assumed the call, as always, related somehow to the Hera, but she wanted them to announce the subject of the conference call as was customary. She also allowed the grumpy old codger to retain his perception that she was Vulcan when she was actually Vulcanoid Rigellian - A mistake many made and she used to her advantage often, but in this case, she felt it a wiser course of action not reminding him that he lacked cultural sensitivity around her.

"All right Commodore," The mustached humanoid Belter leaned in as he spoke, filling more of his sensor. "You've got a team en route to Romulus, undercover, to rescue another officer. I didn't even get an outline of the rescue plan- are your people in there winging it? On Romulus mo less, where an armed Starfleet presence found on that side of the Neutral Zone constitutes an act of war, forget about on their homeworld. So explain to me how exactly this was a good idea that you approved? I told you giving that starbase to a foreign power was going to bite us twice, and here's the first, it would seem"

"On the contrary, Admiral..." Meowlith began, holding up a secure Intel PaDD. It may have been a bluff or it may not have been - all she was showing was the back of a secure, locked, and encrypted device. "I have an outline right here. Much of it relied upon intel that they required on-site so no more than the basics were available beforehand. You have my apologies for not filing it sooner. Once the mission is complete, it and the mission report will be on your desk within an hour of their return to Federation Space."

"Assuming I don't have a galactic incident and the Romulan ambassador in my office this time tomorrow. I didn't come to you for deflections, Commodore, I came to you for answers." The old man might not have been that in touch, but he hadn't risen to his position by being easy to bluff nor stupid, and he knew when he was being stalled. Expectantly he stared at the screen, still waiting for the explanation he'd requested.

"Then I must direct you to report three seven nine alpha four - contingency plan for discovery or failure." Meowlith waited a moment to give them time to find or recall the report just in case before she launched into an explanation. "In the event of either, precautions have been taken to leave no trace to Starfleet or the existence of the USS Hera, as per protocol. Rather, any indications or affiliations traceable will be that of the Artan Privateers, whom are rescuing the Baroness Mnhei'sahe Dox, one of their own, and her mother."

"Thus, though we have good reason to start an intergalactic incident over the kidnapping of one of our officers by Romulan Senator Verelan and Tal'Shiar agent Rendal, we also have no legal responsibility if things go... Poorly... And they are aware that if things do so, we will cut ties with them immediately and they will have to find their own way out of any situations that should arise."

"However, considering the rest of this crew's resume, especially recently..." The pointy-eared woman gave a very slight smirk for just a moment as she paused for dramatic effect. "I expect them to return with both kidnappees, for the mission to have gone so well that even the Tal'Shiar will deny it will have ever happened, and once again I will be required to write a heavily redacted series of awards that will never see the light of any sun."

"I trust that this answers your question satisfactorily?" Commodore Meowlith had planned for this with Captain Telvan and while she wasn't fond of some of the details... She had to admit that they did cover all the bases they could see.

"So, the explanation is one of... plausible deniability, Commodore?" Admiral Forsyth interjected with a raised eyebrow as she reviewed the PaDD and the report in question. "Except that, for diplomatic purposes, you have the Persephone claiming it's two of their people missing? We've got a very muddy situation brewing here."

"What do we say to the Romulan Senate if the team from the Hera recovers their people successfully? The people the Senate knows we were looking for? One of whom they have a legal claim on for criminal charges within the imperium? Our mistake... they must've been on holiday?" Forsyth asked pointedly.

"Still part of the plausible deniability, Admiral," replied the Commodore. "Our contact has confirmed that they are still denying knowledge of the kidnapping for the same reason we are - to avoid an intergalactic incident. If they were to pursue reparations for the inquiry we made, it would be all but admitting that they kidnapped our people. Once this incident is over, it then becomes the purview of diplomats to smooth over and both sides have many reasons to deny any involvement."

“Still playing it fast and loose, I see. Unlike you, I dislike gambling with the fate of the peace between the Federation and the Star Empire, Commodore.” The Vice-Admiral interjected. “Time travelers from alternate dimensions, civilian assets, close ties with space pirates, and ‘galactic powers in residence’… there’s a lot going on with that pet project of yours that’s beyond questionable. The executive officer hasn’t even attended the Academy in over a hundred years, assuming the one from wherever they came from compares to ours. You are taking a lot of risks out there and losing a lot of paperwork and reports, Meowlith. It isn’t good for the fleet.”

Looking at a PaDD in front of her screen, Forsyth raised an eyebrow. "And speaking of losing paperwork, the officer in question, Commodore. How is it we're only now, after all of this, learning that you had an officer on this ship that's apparently next of kin to an extremely high ranking Romulan Senator. I know at least ten individuals in Intel Command alone that would have liked to know that. They might have angled to prepare her for this eventuality and instead of a liability, she could have become an intelligence asset in this scenario.”

"That one, I am able to answer succinctly," Meowlith replied, glancing around her desk for another PaDD. "Her lineage was hidden from her as well to protect her from this very eventuality so when her true lineage came up and her genetics were corrected, the paperwork was submitted to Starfleet Personnel to make the necessary corrections to Records Management and inform those in command that she was indeed not half-human, but full Romulan and that she had slipped through without proper sponsorship and background investigation. Apparently, that paperwork is still being processed and the Empire learned of it first. It was a failure on multiple levels across multiple branches of Starfleet and should be corrected within twenty-six hours."

"As for the USS Hera, I consider the ship and crew to be an irreplaceably valuable asset. However, with all of those questionable assets in one place, they are easily monitored and directed, if not controlled. As for risk, I believe their record speaks for them. They have done immeasurable good, and though they have lost a few people, I believe they have genuinely saved the entire galaxy as a whole on multiple occasions." Meowlith then picked up another PaDD. "For reference, I direct you to their list of missions, document sierra niner niner jay one Hera. If you review that document, you will see that they have succeeded completely in every mission we have thrown them at, including pitting them against a millions of years old Iconian that claimed to be a demon, leading a worldwide rebellion and eliminating the threats of not one but two Doomsday Machines."

“No one’s arguing with your results, Commodore,” the Vice Admiral huffed. “These are legitimate concerns. Yes, they get results, but the reports are often incomplete or lacking critical details. Plus there are elements of these people that are often very worrisome. For instance, didn’t one of them nearly pull Starfleet Command into a singularity just by walking in the front door? Little details like that might be relevant to the rest of us who are higher in the chain of command. Can you see that from our perspective?”

"Indeed I do," Meowlith paused a moment as she considered her next words carefully. She didn't want to redirect blame to the crew of the Hera, nor did she want to fully shoulder that blame herself, so she twisted it to blame it on circumstances. "Considering the circumstances of many of the specific personnel of the crew... Some of the finer points of their conditions are still being studied and we are awaiting solid evidence and data to report. If you would like to request regular updates on all of the research that the vast scientific capabilities of the Nebula class USS Hera is doing to investigate and research the phenomenon surrounding its crew and complement, please feel free to do so. For now, all of that data is stored not only aboard their vessel, but also at the Daystrom Institute Classified Division under chronometric shielding for peer review."

“Regular reports, Meowlith. Like we expect of the rest of the fleet. No more ‘lost paperwork’ no more ‘misfiled requests’, no more assuming the worst if this gets sent up the chain of command. I spent the morning with Admiral b’Rach arguing for the Hera command crew not to be reassigned in order to make the ship more manageable because they do get results and I believe they will continue to do so. But if I have to chase the reports and answers to my questions, that can change. Am I making myself understood, Farenia?” It was highly unusual for the Vice Admiral to use the familiarity of a first name, particularly since they were not friends nor even close, and this was very clearly an official meeting.

"Aye, Admiral. No excuses." Commodore Meowlith nodded solemnly in affirmation that she understood and would do so from then on.

“Good. Then I’ll look forward to those reports. Oh, and you might want to get into proper uniform, Rear Admiral… congratulations.” Even as he spoke, the official document popped up on her screen, indicating that one Farenia Meowlith was officially promoted from 0-7 Commodore to the rank of O-8, Rear Admiral.

"Thank you Admiral. I will do so immediately. If you will excuse me, I have to see to those reports." As soon as the screen clicked off, you could almost hear the sigh of relief from Farenia a sector away. Another close call, another disruptor beam dodged. The crew of the USS Hera would likely never know how often they were in danger from their own organization- in danger of being mired in bureaucratic paperwork, of becoming experiment subjects, of being thrown out of Starfleet entirely.

But Rear Admiral Farenia Meowlith knew, and it was yet another secret she would bear in silence.

It was a balmy afternoon, near the end of third shift as AnteCenturion Ro’Zahn tr’Crans yawned slightly at his post. From a few meters away, at the other side of a large retractable door, AnteCenturion Gildehn tr’Sturn rolled his eyes and groaned, “Don’t start that, tr’Crans.”

The two guards stood under a great stone and metal archway at the end of a long tunnel on an elevated landing platform. The Platform was large. Large enough to accommodate at least three Charon-Class shuttle and a few flitters or Scorpions at the least, overlooking the picturesque Oh'hayo valley of ch’Rihan. “I’m tired and ready for shift rotation, Gildehn. I missed firstmeal, and I'm hungry as well. It’s not a breach of protocol to be hungry.”

“It is to talk this much on duty. So I would recommend keeping your hunger and your fatigue to yourself.” As he spoke, however, his own stomach betrayed him and let out an audible gurgle. “Hnaev. I blame you.”

The two stood at the entrance of the tunnel that led over four hundred meters back to the Delevhas Compound. The platform was elevated, overlooking the green rushing waters of a river several stories below and was purposed for the landings of delegates, operatives and prisoner transfer to the secure compound behind them. The tunnel on the other side of the archway the two were guarding sloped down to ground level, almost disappearing into the treeline. To the left of the entrance of the tunnel was a small control structure with another two officers inside manning the security screens and monitoring the area.

The compound was located rather far from the nearest major city on ch’Rihan, the planet known to much of the quadrant as Romulus. Nestled in the plains of the Oh’Hayo valley, it almost seemed serene set under the deep turquoise skies and rolling grasses, tinted lavender in the light. The building itself looked almost like any other government structure with rounded exterior walls, a central dome, and doric columns around the exterior with a design to make it look older and more classical than it was. But what it was was one of several high-security Tal’Shiar facilities located on the outskirts of the Imperial Capitol city of Ra'tleihfi.

For the two guards outside and the quieter two technicians in the landing control booth behind them, it was a calm and quiet duty, until the shuttlecraft approached. They were clearly authorized and had the proper landing codes, otherwise the automated defenses would have raised the shields over the landing pad. So when the clean and sleek shuttlecraft touched down, it was a surprise to see a Romulan commander and what appeared to be an elderly stateswoman of sorts emerging, and making their way across the landing pad to address the centurions.

Whispering, the first guard muttered to the second, "Elements... that's Riov Rendal." Then, trying to avoid looking nervous, both men put their fists over their chests in salute as the guard on the left of the door, AnteCenturion tr’Crans, spoke.

"Riov. Your shuttle is not scheduled for six minutes time... is all in order?" He asked nervously. Both men were hoping to be off duty and on their ways home when the more exciting duty shift took over to deal with the upcoming prisoner transfer.

"We are making sure it is in order and are here to ensure that this transfer proceeds as smoothly as possible." Captain Enalia Telvan, holographically disguised as Rendal replied haughtily, incredibly mimicking the royal accent quite closely. "To that effect, you are relieved. We will be using security from the Senator's vessel." At Enalia’s side stood Lieutenant Commander Sonak, in a similar holographic disguise as the Rihannsu senator, Verelan t’Rul.

The two AnteCenturions looked at each other, slightly confused and slightly suspicious. There were, after all, procedures in place that needed to be followed in circumstances like this. Hesitantly, AnteCenturion tr’Sturn gulped slightly and spoke, "Ie, Riov. However, procedure requires... written orders to this effect?"

Riov Rendal cleared her throat and waved the PaDD in her hand at them that she had pulled out as they were asking for orders. "And you have them. Or do you..." The false Riov then looked at the two officers in the control booth with a raised eyebrow, "Or any of you... require Re-education?"

The color quickly and clearly drained from the Rihannsu men's faces at the thinly veiled threat as they barely glanced at the PaDD and saluted nervously. "No, Riov. W... we serve the Imperium loyally," tr'Crans said, trying not to shake. After all, Riov Rendal's predilection for 're-education' was somewhat notorious and Enalia was using that reputation well.

Saluting again, the AnteCenturions entered their entry codes into the control booth where all four officers on duty left through the rear door to the interior of the station in a decided hurry.

Without turning back towards their shuttle, Enalia, still disguised as Rendal, motioned towards the disguised Thex and Varnok to begin their side of the operation and for the shuttle to head out. They'd have to do the technical work inside the security booth to make sure they weren't discovered during the operation. They'd also have to have all that in place so they could drop their holographic disguises before the real Rendal and Senator arrived on the real shuttle.

Disguised as Romulans, the Hera's Andorian Chief Engineer and Cardassian Intel officer came off the shuttle and quickly went to the booth to get to work jamming security communications and setting up a feed loop so nobody inside the main station could see what was happening out on the landing pad.

Meanwhile, Az'Prel stepped off with them in an AnteCenturion's security uniform to replace one of the two departing guards. And from within the shuttle as it took off, a voice came over the hidden cochlear ear comm units from the shuttle. "Captain. This is Maenek t'Liun on the shuttle. Sensors show the real Senatorial Shuttle en route. ETA, 4.2 minutes."

“Alright everyone, make sure you’re in position. We only get one shot at this, so let’s make this Tal’Shiar PetaQ’ will think twice about crossing us again,” Enalia stated coldly into her cochlear comm unit as she disengaged her holographic disguise. The sword at her belt no longer looked like Rendal’s, but it now took on its actual form - that of a Senatorial honor guard sword taken from another Rihanna Riov some years back when Enalia was but a Lieutenant.

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

High above the plains of ch’Rihan, the world known to the rest of the Alpha and Beta quadrants as ‘Romulus’, the real Senatorial shuttle, a shining green Charon-Class ship began its descent. As it entered the atmosphere of the teal rimmed hearthworld of the Rihannsu Star Empire, it was flanked in tight military formation by four, shimmering black Scorpion fighters.

Standing at command behind the helm, overseeing everything, Riov Dalia Rendal was taking no chances with her prize. Due to the unique transport inhibiting shielding employed at the Delevhas Compound, the transfer of said prize had to be managed via-shuttle, but the canny Commander knew that if there was ever going to be an opportunity for a rescue attempt to be made, this would be it.

At one side of the Royal Rihannsu, stood her loyal SubCommander, erei’Riov Arrenhe t'Suil. At the other side, the noble but mind-controlled Senator, Verelan t’Rul. And in the rear of the shuttle stood a detachment of Rihannsu security forces, over thirty AnteCenturions, armed and ready. And in the center of them, secured in a seat, wrists bound in security cuffs, sat the center of their attentions: The red-headed Starfleet Lieutenant, Mnhei’sahe Dox… granddaughter of the regal Senator that the Tal’Shiar coveted for the secrets hidden in her mind.

The young Rihannsu pilot was dressed in the same black turtleneck and Rihannsu military pants and boots she had been in the last week of her captivity. And while she had been treated more like a guest than a prisoner during that last week, she was also a pilot in a small enough ship to use to escape if the opportunity presented itself, so she was locked securely in place for the final leg of her long journey to the homeworld she had never been to before.

After a long, silent descent, the Shuttle could be seen breaking through the clouds in the turquoise sky above the landing platform. There, Captain Telvan and the crew of the Hera waited. In the control booth, Thex and Varnok maintained their facades and gave the shuttle its landing clearance. At the large door of the tunnel that led to the compound beyond the forcefields and security screens in place, Az’Prel and a no-longer hologram disguised Sonak stood at the ready, disguised as guards.

And as the Shuttle slowly lowered itself to the center of the platform, Captain Enalia Telvan stood at the ready. Wearing the uniform of a Rihannsu commander, like much of the crew, she had been surgically altered to look very much like the model of a noble Rihannsu Riov herself. Her jet black hair was pulled up into an imposing bun that framed the surgically altered ears and enhanced brow that obscured her own features, hopefully enough to not be recognized. On her hip, she wore a Rihannsu longsword that glinted in it’s curved, black scabbard. In her hand, a PaDD with the counterfeit transfer orders she prayed would pass muster.

With a hiss of landing thrusters, the Charon-Class shuttle crept to a stop on the platform, almost staring down the Trill Captain as it did. There was a long moment before the main door of the ship opened and the ramp for passengers to disembark extended down through a swirl of hydraulic mists that quickly faded. In the sky around the platform, the four Scorpions remained airborne, taking up a defensive perimeter, circling the landing ominously.

First, two groups of AnteCenturions disembarked, taking up position in military formation at both sides of the ramp. And as they did, off stepped Riov Rendal, followed closely and silently by the Deihu Verelan t’Rul. Behind them came another group of AnteCenturions. Eight in the front and Eight in the back with t’Suil taking up the rear. And in the middle of the two groups of guards, Mnhei’sahe Dox.

The young officer hung her head low as she stepped slowly off the ship. She didn’t want to look up at the sky she had wanted to be under since she was a child. She didn’t want to taste the air filling her lungs from the home she had been denied her whole life. She scowled as she stepped off of the ramp onto the platform and stood behind the guards when they stopped, never once looking up.

But she did listen, as the disguised Captain stepped forward to present the PaDD to Rendal and spoke in a voice that Dox knew entirely too well, even speaking in her native Rihan. “Riov Rendal, I am Riov t’Vola. By order of the Senate Judiciary Council I have orders to take possession of the prisoners for processing and transfer pending the Senate’s decision on the matter of their… Kidnapping.”

Keeping her composure, Dox maintained her grim facade and looked for all the world like someone being lead to their doom. While she had been painfully easy to read, wearing her fragile emotions on her sleeve, just over a year ago when she first joined the Hera, a full month of negotiating with her own notoriously secretive people had helped the young officer develop a poker face good enough to have even Enaila wondering if Dox had even recognized her. The young officer glanced up slightly to look at the situation, taking in the positions of everyone. Enalia before her, the rest of the crew in disguise in their positions. And as she did, she made the briefest of eye contact with her Captain before hanging her head again. Just enough to let Enalia know that she was still there. Still aware.

The Royal Romulan paused for a moment, studying the face of the woman before her, running through her memory of the Riovs that worked directly for the Senate Judiciary Council. Riov t’Vola was one of them and this woman looked like her… But for her to have left her post in the senate chambers… Either this was the expected escape attempt or the Senate took this far more seriously than she assumed.

With half-lidded eyes, Rendal looked around at the other people on the platform as she slowly reached out and took the PaDD with the supposed orders. Once she was done profiling them, she directed her gaze to the text itself and started scrolling. “You mentioned prisoners, plural. Unfortunately, Jaeih Dox, mentioned here, is a traitor to the Imperial Navy anyway and was killed during an escape attempt. Thus she will be unable to be handed over. Her personal effects have already been disposed of.”

“Very well. As you say, she was indeed a traitor to the people of ch’Rihan and would have likely been executed anyway.” Enalia spoke dispassionately, as if she were reporting the weather on a distant moon. “That only makes the issue of the other one… Mnhei’sahe… Dox, so important to the Senate Judiciary Council.”

“In case the Federation decides we are not the best of allies, I assume.” Rendal paused a moment to turn the PaDD over on her hand slowly, rubbing the back of it thoughtfully. It looked fine on initial inspection, but something about it felt off. “Unfortunately, I have claimed her as my apprentice, and once we complete her processing inside this facility, we intend to groom her to be the heir to both the Rul and Rendal families.”

Listening, Dox’s stomach tightened at the word ‘apprentice’, but she kept her face neutral as if she had heard nothing.

Rendal then looked up, straight into Enalia’s eyes. “She is a daughter of ch’Rihan. She is drawn to this world and the people. You may find that she has little desire to go with you now.”

Rendal then turned to Dox. “Do you, my apprentice? You’re finally on your home world. In the land of your heart. Oh’Hayo has the cleanest air, the purest rivers, the greenest plants.” The Royal Riov then pulled out the controls for the shackles and deactivated them, allowing them to fall to the deck. “Look around you. Let it fill your senses. This is where you belong. You are home.”

The tension was a palpable thing, hovering between the three women. Dox looked down at her hands, then up to Rendal ,doing her level best to keep the hatred she felt contained. She hated the woman not just because of everything she had done, but because on some level, Dox wanted to do what Rendal was offering. She wanted to take in the home she had been denied for a lifetime. She considered her reply for perhaps a moment longer than was necessary, turning to finally gaze up at the turquoise sky she hadn’t yet looked at. “Once the Council has processed me as needed, would I have any say in my fate in this regard? Either way, I would still be here.”

“Oh no, the Senate stores prisoners in the mines of ch’Havran. Isn’t that right, Riov t’Vola?” Rendal turned slowly back to Enalia, a glimmer of a grin in her eye but the rest of her face, an emotionless jade masque.

“I dare not speak for the senate. I can only refer to historical fact as recorded.” Enalia responded, not rising to the bait. “And though many have been condemned to the mines of ch’Havren… many have not been.”

“Much documentation with your name on it has been forged over the years, Riov t’Vola.” Rendal held up the PaDD. “Is this forged as well?”

“Of course not. And if it were, it would be forged under the orders of the Senate Judiciary Council, as always. To suggest otherwise besmirches my mnhei’sahe…” Enalia was talking, but Rendal was no longer listening, because when she held up the PaDD that last time, she noticed something.

Something very damning.

Rather than the normal ch’Rihan maker’s mark authorized for use by the Imperial Navy, this PaDD had an Artan maker’s mark.

As her eyes went wide, Riov Dalia Rendal knew right then just how deep in feces she had stepped. Time seemed to slow as she dropped the PaDD and reached for her sword, but it was too late. The woman she had been talking to had already signaled her team somehow and two of them had opened fire on her Centurions, dropping several of them before her sword had cleared her scabbard.

By the time she had leveled her sword for the woman’s neck, two more of her Centurions were downed and her sword blade vibrated with a resounding clang. Rather than tearing through the woman’s neck, the blade had struck steel, and Rendal's eyes widened even further.

This was no mere pawn of the Federation. She was now staring at the smirking face of the Queen of the Artan Pirates herself.

Captain Enalia Telvan.

To Be Continued…

“I guess this means our cover is blown,” Enalia quipped with a quick triple trust parry in an attempt to keep Rendal at bay. Only seconds ago, the two women’s swords had met in battle on the landing platform of the Tal’Shiar base known as the Delevhas Compound. Here on Romulus, the architect of the Hera crew’s troubles, Riov Dalia Rendal, had penetrated Enalia’s disguise, but not her flesh.

“Everyone, get Dox to the shuttle!” the Tal'Shiar captain ordered, mounting a more determined sword offense against the pirate queen turned Starfleet captain. Immediately, a group of Centurions surrounded the Senator and pulled her aside, but blocked from the entrance of the shuttle, all they could do was take cover against the wall of the control booth and guard her as chaos erupted around them.

Meanwhile, Dox wasn’t waiting, and she certainly wasn’t retreating to the shuttle of her captor, as her hands were free. Improbably and seemingly impossibly, her friends were there to rescue her, and damned if she would just stand around waiting. The time for waiting for her moment and biding her time was over; now was the time to act. Without hesitation, she reached down and grabbed the fallen shackles to swing them into the guard on her left, smashing them into his face hard. As he grabbed for his broken nose, now gushing a burst of green, she delivered a sharp kick to the side of his knee that shattered it, making it easy to shove the large man into the guards behind him.

But Rendal had placed her men in a tight circle around Dox to 'protect' her, and another guard reached around her to put the much smaller woman in a chokehold to restrain her. But the furious woman was no longer taking any chances, as she elbowed him hard in the ribs, grabbed the hand nearest her neck and twisted until she heard bone pop and give. Then, twisting around, Dox folded her hand into a knife-wedge, to jab it tightly into his throat. The guard let out a choking gasp and collapsed, but she was still vastly outnumbered, and the others closed in tight to protect their charge as ordered by their Riov. Gathered about her they were pressing completely around her to restrict her movement. Dox struggled to break free, but was being overpowered by pure numbers.

From the rear, t’Suil had pulled her own disruptor and began shouting at the men, “Get the Senator and her Granddaughter on the shuttle, NOW!! Protect them at all costs!!” But in the chaos, it was impossible.

That was when Az’Prel made an appearance after having ghost-killed four of the Centurions without a sound. Their bodies just went from standing to lying on the platform deck in spreading pools of liquid jade. But now, she was at Dox’s side, pressing a pair of blades into her hands while slicing a fifth Centurion open like one would open a bodybag.

“I thought it logical to bring these. You may have need of them.” With a spin, Az'Prel had moved on to her next target - t’Suil, two more Centurions dropping along the way.

Smirking slightly, Dox simply nodded, feeling the familiar heft of her twin, curved Caitian blades in her hands. The blades gifted to her from her fellow Artan Baroness, Schwein von Alcott, which she treasured and had practiced with for a great many hours. Quickly, she pressed the small buttons in the hilts and a slight blue shimmer enveloped the blades to generate the stunning fields she had installed in the weapons. With the force fields, the blades were no longer lethal, but were now remarkably effective as stun batons. Spinning them in her hands, in only an instant, another two guards had hit the deck.

Meanwhile, Enalia and Rendal were off to one side having a seemingly pleasant conversation about swordplay mechanics and various techniques as they struggled to get one up on each other. Indeed, they seemed almost perfectly matched, and though Enalia’s smirk never left her face, the sweat on her brow told of the struggle she was having. Rendal was also exerting herself furiously, both keeping up, and trying to gain an advantage over the Pirate Queen. Indeed, it looked like the contest would be settled by whomever had the most stamina.

However, that was when even more guards began rushing off the transport shuttle, disruptors drawn, targeting the members of the Hera’s crew. Rendal had clearly been prepared for such an eventuality.

One of the guards with a pain baton drawn charged at Thex. She couldn't help but smile as she dodged to one side before smacking him hard in the back of the neck, then landing a kick to his solar plexus. Grabbing the man's baton, she wasted no time and threw it right at one of the others incoming, sending the female Romulan crashing down to the floor screaming.

Still holographically disguised as a Romulan himself, the Cardassian Intel Agent Varnok preferred stealth and misdirection, but when all else failed, he was more than capable of taking care of himself. And in the circumstances, he was more than willing to do so to recover his shipmates as he blended in with the guards, stunning them when necessary to prevent them from being effective.

As a centurion lunged forward, Varnok deflected the blows deftly, misdirecting his attacker's momentum. Pressing the point, the Romulan rushed in and grabbed the intel agent by the neck. Varnok smiled slightly as the physical contact with a neck clearly much broader than the holographic projection implied caused the projection to flicker, which revealed the Cardassian's true appearance to become momentarily visible.

As the hologram dropped for only an instant, Varnok watched a horrified look cross the Romulan's face, and then grinning broadly and acting swiftly while the Tal'Shiar agent was caught off guard, he swung his arm up to lightly jab the centurion in the neck. As he did, a light hiss was heard and the attacker collapsed. Slipping the hypo loaded with the fast-acting sedative back up his sleeve, Varnok moved on to his next target.

Sonak was a man of peace and logic. To him, violence was the last argument of the imbecile. But when the blade comes for your heart, there is no other logical choice but to speak its own language.

With decades of training as a Vulcan monk and a Starfleet officer, the chief science officer of the Hera wasted no time in debate. The club whistled in the space still warmed by his head as he ducked to grab the ankle of the guard. A nearly bone-breaking grip on the nerve there that went straight up to the base of the spinal column allowed him to sent his paralyzing mental pulse just as would the standard neck pinch; enough to seize the stunned guard, lift him off the floor and send him like a log into the midriff of two others charging his position.

His head jerked up as he heard the telltale whine of engines above them. Quickly recalling the layout of the place, he pointed to the nearest arch curving over the platform and spoke loudly enough for all his shipmates to hear him. ''Heads up! Seek cover! ''

From high above the chaos on the platform, the four Scorpions that had been circling finally broke formation and turned to target their devastating weapons on those below. But without warning, one of the four quickly pulled back, took aim and a burst of green fire lanced from the disruptor cannon on its back, destroying one of its sister ships in a ball of fire that fell to the side of the field of combat below, to crash into the nearby river. Immediately, the remaining two Scorpions now had a new target to worry about as they began chasing the rogue element in a flying firefight.

From below, in the melee of weapons and combat, there was a pause as most everyone looked up in confusion at what had just happened. Then, without warning, the refugee Vulcan woman let loose a trilling warcry that sent shivers through the Romulans and her allies alike before downing another Centurion by throwing a now broken disruptor rifle across the platform directly into his face.

“Intimidation is quite logical at times,” she declared casually with a glance to Dox.

“Agreed.” Dox’s eyes went cold as she turned to glare at erei’Riov t’Suil who was still being flanked by a number of Centurions, who caught the glare and did not like what she saw.

As the battle raged on, to Enalia and Rendal it was almost as if it was coming to pass in slow motion. They dodged disruptor fire with ease as they parried and thrust their way back and forth across the landing platform multiple times, using the dead to try and gain a hint of high ground, trading places, first one pushing the other back, then the other gaining on the first.

“You know you’ll never win. You’re in the heart of the Imperium,” Rendal observed casually.

“You have no idea how persistent I am. I am inevitable,” Enalia replied with the same casual air.

Stepping up on a couple of fallen Centurions, Rendal would press her momentary advantage. “And I am the east wind that you cannot escape. I will always follow you.”

Then Enalia sidestepped, and having abandoned her piratical swordplay flourish long ago, pressed back harder. “And I literally have the Spirit of Death quartered aboard my vessel. You kidnapped her best friend. Were I you, I would prepare to die.” With that statement, a memory caught in Enalia’s head and she had to run with it.

“You think I fear death? My mnhei’sahe demands I die for my Imperium. I am an honorable daughter of ch’Rihan!” Rendal dodged a few wide swings, unsure of Enalia’s sudden change of tactics and slightly thrown off guard by them, but pressing her advantage none-the-less.

“My name is Enalia Telvan. You kidnapped the only friend of Death. Prepare to die!” With a mad grin, Enalia switched hands with a flourish and let Rendal fully press her ‘advantage’ and pass her by so that with her offhand, she could slip her sword into the guts of the Royal Riov.

Unfortunately, it wasn’t a fatal blow, but it was good enough to take her out of the fight at the very least, having pierced the woman’s belly.

Stumbling back away from the superior swordswoman and leaning against the nose of her shuttle, she sheathed her sword and called out to the Pirate Queen. “You may think you’ve won this day! You have not! She’s still mine! My apprentice will still stay here with me, to save her grandmother! She belongs here and she knows it!” And with those words, she grabbed her disruptor to cover Enalia as several Centurions came to flank her.

From the other side of the platform, still surrounded by Centurions, Dox and Az’Prel were trying to press forward. Dox, in particular, was trying to get to her Grandmother, who was still being protected in a tight formation by a small detachment of Centurions. As the young Rihannsu Starfleet officer heard Rendal’s words, her stomach tightened. Through the chaos, her eyes made contact with her grandmother and Dox knew, on at least that level, Rendal might be right. She couldn’t just abandon the woman who had started all of this with her kidnapping.

Though she knew Rendal wanted only power, in her heart Dox believed that her Grandmother truly felt she was doing the right thing. Trying to save the family she believed had been brainwashed by the Federation, and bring her home. While she had no idea what she could do, Dox knew she couldn’t just leave her grandmother as she was, a puppet of Riov Rendal. Mind-controlled to do her bidding, enslaved in her own body. Maybe later, if they all survived this, she wondered if she would laugh at the irony of that idea.

But with Rendal’s injury, the Centurions actually rallied and the tide of the battle had begun to turn as her forces began pushing back harder against the smaller rescue group in their Commander’s wake. The Romulan Centurions were making ground, and beginning to overwhelm the Hera crewmembers by virtue of sheer numbers.

It seemed it was the destiny of Mnhei’sahe Dox to remain on ch’Rihan, and in trying to rescue her, a fate the command crew of the USS Hera seemed destined to share with her.

While she had railed against it, Dox realized that in this moment, she could end this conflict with but a few words, spoken clearly and with volume. Shouldering her karma, she might be able to save the crew, by sacrificing herself and surrendering to the Rihannsu forces. While it was far from a perfect solution, it was the only one she could think of that might save the lives of the Federation crew. Who had come so far and risked intergalactic war just to try to rescue her, in what was now clearly a doomed effort.

Cornered by fate, manipulated by her own people, now, in this desperate pitched battle, it seemed this was the moment in time where the young Rihannsu Starfleet officer could no longer escape her destiny. It was clear to her she would have to stand alone to save those dearest to her. Closing her eyes for just a moment, Mnhei'sahe opened her hands. As she did so, her twin Caitian blades clattered to the ground, as she opened her mouth to speak.

Which was when overhead, one of the Scorpion fighters above them were suddenly stricken, their engines seized and the small vessel was left ionized and powerless. Which would be unusual in and of itself, save that the vessel was reacting as if it had been struck by something other than disruptor fire. The pounding of disruptors would have disintegrated the bonds between molecules and destroyed the small craft, or at the very least rendered it a smoking wreck, plummeting to the ground below.

Ionization of the controls and the loss of power seemed more indicative of phaser fire, to the eye of the experienced pilot. As Dox spared a glance overhead, she saw a trio of jet-black Scorpions flying in tight formation as they strafed the landing platform in wide golden beams, leaving swaths of stunned Centurions in their wake.

Wide, golden phaser beams. Which meant only one thing to the relieved Rihannsu.

“Rita,” she muttered, grinning ear to ear.

In all the excitement, Mnehi’sahe figured she just hadn’t seen the blonde-haired, blue-eyed human who so often defied the odds and interfered with destiny, assuming her to be disguised. Although not much of a hand to hand combatant, the curvaceous commander was never one to shy from a fight, finding ways to make a different, often with her antiquated phaser pistol in one hand and an olive branch in the other. As the trio of what she deduced to be the Cyclone fighters in disguise as Scorpions wheeled about to make another strafing run, even as they provided cover fire for the other Scorpion dogfight that was raging overhead, Dox felt the weight lifted from her chest, and she could breathe again- the breath of freedom, of hope. Suddenly the dismal acceptance of her fate seemed to be not the only answer, but merely one of them.

Phaser pulses strafed the platform, the product of a master of their use who had been doing this for longer than most of the participants involved in the battle had been alive. As the Hera personnel were ringed by the Centurions, it was easy to lay phaser pulses which landed with mild shockwaves, sufficient to drive combatants apart, even as the attending craft continued their wide-beam stun runs, thinning the ranks for the Romulans in short order.

In ten seconds, the tide of the battle had turned. Where there had been the growing apprehension of impending defeat, there was now the very real possibility that they might just get out of this after all.

In the air, one remaining Scorpion fighter turned from chasing the single rouge that had turned on the group earlier and arced down to pursue the newcomers to the battle. But it's pursuit was short-lived as its shields were bracketed by a lance of green disruptor fire, that forced the ship back up and away from the fray below. Again, the mysterious Scorpion that had turned on the others was on the rear of the other and firing away.

The two craft began twisting in the air above the platform, firing at each other before the enemy craft twirled around to clip the other Scorpion's port wing with a disruptor burst. But before it could swing around for a killing shot, the Cyclones from below trained their phasers on the attacking vessel to blast through its shields and send it spiraling to the woods beyond the platform in a swirl of ionization and crackling electricity danced across the shiny black hull.

As the Cyclones returned their attention to the platform, to continue pulsing and stunning to drive enemies apart and even the odds, the final Scorpion brought its nose in low and aimed itself towards the platform for a controlled crash Auguring in towards the Senatorial Shuttle still parked on the deck, both Centurions and t'Suil ran from the Charon class shuttle as the Scorpion slammed into the platform. Shaking almost everyone present off of their feet as it skidded across the landing pad, it took out the shuttle’s port nacelle in a burst of green fire before skidding to a stop near the edge of the platform, trailing smoke and flames behind it.

As the remaining combatants pulled themselves back to their feet, the hatch to the Scorpion opened to reveal a black-clad pilot. As the suicide commando removed their helmet, their identity was revealed to be none other that one Jaeih Dox- bruised, bleeding but very much alive.

Shaking her head as Az'Prel helped her back to her feet, Mnhei'sahe's eyes went wide, and an impossible smile stretched across her face as she cried out. "M... MOTHER!!!! You ARE alive!!!"

"More or less, Mnhei’sahe… but please, not so loud... these helmets are remarkably useless." The elder Rihannsu once believed dead managed a sly smirk as she staggered out of the craft. Az'Prel ran to her side, leaping to plant her foot in the face of one of the few remaining centurions and riding his momentum to the ground to arrive at the side of her friend. The friend she had crossed half a galaxy to find, to rescue, and to return to the home neither of them had ever expected to find on a Starfleet vessel.

"Ko-kai! Rinam, I have you." The greeting was short, but as Az'Prel supported her chosen sister and friend of this universe, the emotions within her rode high and were obvious to those who knew how to read them. Of course, no one quite knew how to read Az'Prel's emotions like that chosen sister, as Jaeih simply smiled lightly, nodding and taking the support offered with a gentle squeeze.

That was when the trio of disguised Scorpions leveled themselves at Riov Rendel, and the speakers transmitted the voice of their pilot, in a poor Rihan dialect, but it was most certainly Romulan and not a universal translator at work.

“We’d like to take our people and go, Rendel We can do this bloodlessly or violently, that’s your call. But we just came to rescue those taken- no more, no less.”

While the accent was clearly that of no particular region, to the sensitive ear of Mnhei’sahe Dox, those tones were unmistakable. She was right… the lead pilot, in a gleaming black Scorpion which she would bet real latinum was the Getaway Driver, likely disguised through some means of her ingenious wife, came the voice of one Rita Paris- the spirit of the 23rd Century.

The Royal Riov paused for a moment before rage twisted her face and she threw her disruptor to the ground, shattering it. She recognized the voice clearly, even in another language. Especially now that she knew them to be the crew of the Hera. This was the woman that promised her precious station away and ruined her career.

Rita kreldanni Paris.

"You think you have won? You have nothing! You leave with nothing but what I let you! There is no escape from this world... not for her! Go then! Take my apprentice for now! She's drawn to this world now that she's had a taste of it! She knows where her place is! It's by my side and with the Deihu… with her BLOOD… and there's nothing that can change that!"

Listening, Dox's face was green with a barely contained rage at the woman that intensified every time she heard the word 'apprentice'. In that moment, she wanted nothing more than to reach down, pick up her swords and kill Rendal there and then. But instead, she did everything she could do to keep herself calm... and wait.

That was when Enalia, in her infinite wisdom, did one of the most piratical things she could possibly have done. Pulling out one of her phase pistols she had hidden at the small of her back, she leveled it on Rendal at a 45 degree angle. "To quote the dying words of my dear, departed grandmother... Krell off, you petaQ'." She then fired twice into the chest of the Royal Riov, the blue stun bolts knocking the woman to the ground unconscious. "Okay, time to collect our toys and move out, people."

Watching, t'Suil's eyes went wide as she thought quickly. "Centurions! Weapons on the Deihu!" She shouted at the two guards still surrounding Dox's grandmother as they brought their disruptors to bear on the captive Senator. "Leave now as my Riov allowed... or your Lieutenant's Grandmother will be..."

But the arrogant erei'Riov was cut off as the phaser canons of the hovering cyclones sent out a trio of wide stun beams. effectively rendering every remaining Romulan on the platform safely unconscious, including t'Suil, the centurions, and Mnhei'sahe's grandmother.

“Never try starting a hostage negotiation with a girl who has 3 starfighters equipped with stun weapons, who's been waiting months to deal with a situation, and has no time nor patience for your crap,” came the voice from the Scorpions hovering overhead in ‘overwatch’ mode, protecting the scene and keeping everyone covered. “Mister Sonak, would you be so kind as to verify Miss and Mrs. Dox’s identities for us, so we can be on our way?”

The unspoken part of that statement was not only to verify that this was indeed their kidnapped people but that they were not brainwashed to turn on her rescuers. Given how the plan had played out, the last thing Rita wanted to do was engage a Manchurian Candidate Dox in a dogfight in one of their own escape craft, in the skies over Romulus.

To Be Continued…

Watching as Sonak began first with her mother, instituting a mind meld to confirm both the elder Rihannsu’s identity, and that she was in control of her own mind, Mnhei’sahe’s own mind began to question what was going to happen next… but not to her. Turning back, she looked at her grandmother laying there on the platform of the Delevhas Compound on ch’Rihan, stunned and unconscious.

“Hnaev…” She muttered at herself as her mind raced. She could maybe talk Captain Telvan into taking her with them to save, but doing so would doom the woman. Steal away her life in the same way Verelan had tried to do to Dox. They could save her from the mental reprogramming, but at the cost of everything the elder Senator held dear. To say nothing of the intergalactic incident that doing so would incite… kidnapping a Senator from ch’Rihan would start a war for sure.

However, Dox couldn’t stay behind. All that would do was ensure that Rendal would finish her work, rewrite both of their minds completely. Which would end with both would of them doomed, and the rescue efforts would have been for nothing. Besides, there was no way Mnhei’sahe was going to turn her back on this family or the wife she had back at home on the Hera, pregnant with their children. The connections she had clung to the hardest to maintain her own mind through the month-long ordeal.

As she stood there, her mind ran through every possible option she could think of in what was little more than a brief moment of time in reality. She thought of the kidnapping. As horrible as it was, she truly believed that her grandmother thought she was doing the right thing. She thought of the weeks where the woman had reached out and helped Mnhei'sahe reconnect with her own past and family. What she had done might have been wrong, but Mnhei'sahe couldn't harbor any anger for the woman anymore. After a few seconds, she hung her head slightly and whispered an apology to her grandmother in her native tongue across the platform, “Usaen, Hu’nanov…”

But she thought of Mona again and that light she kept inside her heart… that light that had saved her from the Neural Extraction Converter… and that piece of herself that her Miradonian bond-mate had given her… and Mnhei'sahe's eyes went wide with a thought. A possibly crazy thought.

Turning to Enalia who was watching Dox with a concerned expression as they both waited on Sonak, who had just finished and confirmed Jaeih’s identity, Dox sounded desperate. There was the hint of an accent Enalia had never heard before in the young Rihannu’s voice as she spoke in Federation Standard again for the first time in weeks, “Captain… I know we don’t have much time… and it’s hard to explain… but I need to try to help her. Even with what she did, she’s… she’s my grandmother. I HAVE to try. Please, trust me.”

It didn’t take long for Enalia to think it over and nod her consent. “I trust you... but you only have a few minutes before we have to pull out. Whatever it is, make it fast.”

Having no idea if those few minutes were going to be enough, Dox didn’t waste any time as she replied, “Thank you.” Then, the anxious Rihannsu Lieutenant glanced over at the crew as they were preparing to depart as the large, green shuttle that had brought them there identical to the smoking wreck in the center of the landing platform) returned to hover at the edge of the platform, extending its ramp to extract the team. Turning to Sonak, the man that trained her own mental disciplines that had enabled her to resist having her own mind re-written, she spoke with firm determination.

“Trensu Sonak..” She called him, not by rank but with the Vulcan word for what else he was to her: her master and teacher, “I need your help.”

Stepping over to where her grandmother lay, unconscious, Mnhei’sahe Dox got down on her knees and looked up at the Kolinahr master and her teacher in the training of her own mind, Sonak, “Rendal used a device on her… the Neural Extraction Converter. It overlaid mental instructions in her mind to control her, but she’s still in there beneath it. You taught me how to resist that and I did… but I can’t… I need your help to link our minds. You’ll be in there and can confirm that I’m still me at the same time.”

The extensive training Dox had received was almost exclusively focused on mental defense. In truth, she had no idea how to mind-meld. “Once in her mind, I can help her. I can give her what you showed me to be able to break that control." Then her tone shifted to one of concession and the truth behind her request. "I... I doubt you really need me for it... but... she's my grandmother. I... I need to try I need to see if I can reach her one last time.”

the Kolinahr master Sonak contemplated for a moment, staring as if measuring Dox's resolve, then nodded.

''I understand. The bond of the blood is not merely symbolic, but one that has actual basis in genetics; just as do psionics," the repository of the wisdom of thousands of years of discipline and training explained. "There are certain disciplines that build upon the natural link within a genetic line; the majority of such disciplines are used pirimarily for healing purposes, particularly for ailments of the mind. Your request is therefore soundly logical. These disciplines take several decades to master; but with a mind-meld between the three of us, myself acting as both conduit and anchor, you could reach out to her through your natural bond... and attempt to free her, as you once freed yourself.''

Joining his hands, Sonak looked straight at Dox with his penetrating grey eyes, the timbre of his voice deeper than usual.

''But I must warn you; this is no ordinary mind-meld. I can only support your effort. You alone will have to remove all the layers of mental conditioning, and restore the integrity of her thoughts. You will have to face this battle alone... again. If you falter, we will share her fate; all three of us.''

Looking down at her grandmother, then back up to Sonak, Mnhei'sae took a breath. You can do this, Mnheisahe. she thought to herself. They had that machine at full power. It was draining power from the rest of the SHIP trying to break you, and you broke IT! You did that and you can do it again. You HAVE to do it. You can't leave her like this. If there's even a chance that you can help her... then you don't have time to doubt yourself. You can... you WILL do this.

The risk to Sonak was her main concern now, but she didn't have time to doubt herself. Looking back up at the somber Vulcan scientist, she was terrified. Not for herself, but for her grandmother. For Sonak. For the rest of the crew, waiting on her decision, with the clock ticking. Under her breath, she muttered to herself, evoking the words of the image of Rita Paris she had only imagined talking to her in the brig, weeks ago, "Time to pull on the officer panties, Mnhei'sahe."

Then she looked back up at the man that trained her mind. and knew its capabilities better than anyone else. Logically, Sonak wouldn't have even offered to help her if he doubted her, so she nodded, takling her last bit of needed confidence from that fact. "I will not falter, Trensu."

''Very well.''

Sonak had Dox and her grandmother placed each side of him. For a moment, he seemed to be daydreaming and then, slowly, delicately, he put a hand on the old woman's forehead. just as deliberately, his other hand went to the skull of his shipmate. He didn't say a word. he closed his eyes, lowered his head and took one long, deep breath.

Something felt, yet unheard and unseen, filled the space between them, like static electricity. But within their minds, something akin to a light was coming on, as three consciousnesses became one. One mind trapped within the mental barriers of a psychic prison whose walls were slowly closing in.

The trapped spirit of Dox' grandmother stirred as that of the younger woman touched hers. Sonak's presence could be felt between the two of them, but more like an unseen observer they couldn't locate but knew was there. It was up to Dox now.

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

Blinking, Dox opened her eyes. She could feel Sonak's presence in her mind, but she could no longer see him as she looked up into the turquoise sky above her. She was still on ch'Rihan for sure, but as she slowly sat back up and got to her feet, she wasn't sure exactly where. All she knew for sure was that she was no longer on the landing platform of the Delevhas Compound. And she was no longer in the black turtleneck of the partial Rihannsu uniform she had been wearing. Looking down, she was in her own crimson, Starfleet uniform. Her proud, lieutenant’s pips on her chest, opposite the silver and gold Delta.

When she trained to discipline her own mind with Sonak, she would do so by climbing the steps of Mount Selaya on Vulcan. And while Mnhei'sahe had never been there in reality, her vision of the place was created by Sonak in perfect detail. The sky, the wind, the heat… all of it was perfectly real to her in her own mind. But wherever she was, this wasn't her mind. This was Verelan t'Rul's mind. Before her was a wide, grand plaza of broad, white flagstone flanked by buildings that looked old. Centuries, perhaps millennia old. White marble buildings with long, grand columns stretched down the main road into the distance.

"Grandmother!" Mnhei'sahe called out, but heard nothing but her own voice echo back down the empty streets. But she felt something. She felt the presence of another mind from behind straining to reach to hers as clearly as she could feel her own or Sonak’s supporting her. As she did, she turned around to see where she was. Before her now was a set of great marble steps stretching above her up towards a great domed edifice that loomed upwards. Ringed by shining, gilded columns that seemed to extend far taller than should be possible. This was the Imperial Senate of ch’Rihan. And these were the steps she would have to climb.

Taking a breath, Mnhei’sahe knew this was good. The need to climb steps was a part of her training. That this was here meant that the mental training that Sonak had once imparted to her, was taking root in her Grandmother’s mind. It took on a different form, one familiar to the mind they were in, but the idea was the same. Closing her eyes, she felt the internal glow of the swirling lavender energy that was her own spirit, fused with the energy of her bond-mate, Mona. That part of Mona’s love that would forever be a part of her that had given her the strength to overcome Rendal’s attempts to chain Mnhei’sahe’s own mind.

“I didn’t fail before… I didn’t fail myself. I won’t fail either of you now.” Mnhei’sahe said as she began to climb. As she did, she felt it. The rush of heat and pressure beginning to build. The pressure from the barriers that caged her grandmother’s mind. The invasive programming threatening to overwhelm them all with greater strength with each step Mnhei’sahe took.

Here, in her grandmother’s mind, that horrible programming had succeeded. Rendal’s machinations had found purchase and it was fighting back against the force that was Mnhei’sahe’s own mind. But the young Rihanna woman was determined and pressed forward. With each step, the pressure grew, trying to push her back down to her knees. Trying to keep her away. “I… will not falter.” Mnhei’sahe said firmly as she walked.

Her legs felt heavy as if arms were pulling hard against them to keep them from advancing as she felt a massive wall of heat and pressure form instantly before her. Instinctively, she threw up her arms to protect herself as a wall of green flame erupted on the steps above her that seemed to shoot up high into the sky. The first barrier. The first wall of programming that kept Verelan’s mind caged. And looking at it through squinted eyes, Mnhei’sahe sneered slightly. She felt the blast of heat come off of it. But to her… compared to the heat she had felt in the Mount Selaya in her mind that forced her to her knees over and over, this was nothing. It HAD to be nothing. In her determination, she refused to let it be anything more. And she climbed.

She felt her skin go flush with the heat of the flames as she stepped straight into the wall of fire as the pressure became far more intense. It pushed hard against her like a great hand. She felt herself break out in a sweat and it felt as if her skin would blister off, but she kept walking, momentarily blinded by the flames, until she found herself on the next step, the flames gone. Letting out a breath, she kept walking.

As she did, the pressure began to come in greater and greater waves, now. Each one hitting her harder. And with every few steps, came a new wall of flame. Each on hotter and more intense than the last. Though it was only within her grandmother’s mind, she felt her crimson uniform burn upon her each time. She felt the flames lick her face, bite into her flesh and blister her skin each time. She felt herself come aflame, but she refused to burn. She emerged each time whole. Protected by both her mental training and the lavender light that seemed now to radiate outward, beyond the heart in her side. A living thing that wouldn’t allow her to give up.

While she knew that in the real world, she was given only a few minutes to do what she needed to do, time seemed to stretch in front of her as long as the steps themselves. All the time in the world to do what she needed to do. And finally, after what felt like a climb that had lasted forever, she pushed with all of her strength, through the last wall of green flames to step onto the platform at the top. Her knees felt weak and she wanted to collapse, but she had made a promise to not falter. And for her mind, and the minds of Verelan and Sonak, she would not. So she stood again, straightening herself and taking a breath. Before her, the grand double doors of the senate themselves. Behind her, she turned to spared a glance for the view of the city of Ra'tleihfi. The glistening Capital of ch’Rihan she had never seen, but was now looking at through the prism of her grandmother’s memories.

Sparing a slight smile, she was exhausted, but unbent. And she knew that while the climb might be over, she had at least one more obstacle to overcome. She could feel that pressure again, cutting into her from behind. Turning to face the doors again, there was now a form standing there. The form of a woman. A woman made of green fire that stood before her, blocking the grand double doors, sword in hand… staring at Mnhei’sahe with raw hatred in her glowing, emerald eyes.

It was the form of Riov Dalia Rendal. The woman who had caged Verelan’s mind. The woman who had murdered Mnhei’sahe’s father. The woman who had tried to break the young Rihanna woman. And ultimately, the woman who had failed to do so.

Stepping forward without hesitation, Dox pressed ahead towards the flaming apparition. And as she did, the Green, flame Rendal lifted her sword high and swung down in a mighty stroke at the advancing Starfleet officer, letting out a guttural, raging roar. But as Dox walked forward, she refused to flinch or hesitate. She made no motions to protect herself or dodge the strike. She simply... walked through it.

This wasn’t Rendal. This was the last barrier. The final bit of programming, too weak without the others to stand. An immaterial thing that broke across Mnhei’sahe like a gust of hot wind that did nothing to slow her advance as it scattered like dried leaves against the young Starfleet officer in red, dissipating behind her into nothingness. Now, standing before those great doors, Mnhei’sahe paused again for one last moment. The pressure was gone. The heat and barriers were gone. She could feel a cool breeze float in from the city and she took a breath, allowing herself to taste the sweet air of a home that had forever been denied her. A home… but not hers.

Grasping the handles, Mnhei’sahe pushed forward. At first, there was resistance as if each great, ancient wooden door must have weighed as much as a starship. But Mnhei’sahe could move Starships… and so here, she could move doors. And slowly, as she strained and pushed with all of her strength, the doors began to part. And from within, came a light. A brilliant light that the red-headed young pilot winced slightly against. And then the light softened.

Gone were the doors and the grand columns and the massive city at her back. Looking around her, this wasn’t the Senate. At her feet were dark red floors of maithe wood stretching down a long hall. On either side, ornate wooden steps leading up to the second floor of a house she had only seen images of on a screen, weeks ago with her Grandmother. On the walls to her sides, painted portraits of family and ancestors, long gone, but never forgotten here.

This was Verelan’s mansion on the plains of Ihhliae. This was her grandmother’s home. The home that could have been her own in a different life. Looking up, Mnhei’sahe saw the golden light of Eisn streaming in through the windows that peppered the dome at the top of the house. And looking forward, to the end of the great hall, she saw her.

Standing before her now, in dark purple flowing robes, looking as regal and elegant as she ever had, was her Grandmother. Verelan had a look on her face of shock and disbelief as she blinked, looking at Mnhei’sahe in silence for a long moment.

“You… you came for me… in my own mind? How…?” the Senator, slowly recovering her faculties and adjusting to the dream-like state of the mind meld, could not only see her granddaughter, but feel her as well. In that moment, their thoughts were joined, and the two women, separated by a generation, both knew one another in a manner far more intimate than most.

On her end, Mnhei’sahe Dox knew Verelan t’Rul’s hopes and dreams for the future, the aspirations she had for her granddaughter, the hope that it stirred in her for a brighter future. She felt the respect the woman had gained for her, now growing even further. She knew the regrets and sacrifices the elder politician had endured, over the deeds of the past that she was trying to atone for in her somewhat Machiavellian, yet so completely Romulan manner. Dox knew the elder woman had hope- hope for the future of her lineage as well as the planet that she loved, even though it had been twisted and warped by the Tal Shiar’s xenophobic and expansionist policies.

And on the other end, Verelan t’Rul could see into her granddaughters mind as well. She could see the young woman’s fears and anxieties. Her need for family and acceptance, and her fear of failure and abandonment. But she also saw Mnhei’sahe’s unwavering sense of responsibility. Her loyalty and sense of duty to a purpose greater than herself, that gave her pride and had led her to the Hera. Most of all, she knew without a doubt that her own mind had been freed from the inhibitors and controls that had been so painfully put in place by Rendal by her granddaughter’s efforts. Sharing their minds, she understood it was the Vulcan Kolinahr master who had accommodated it, and she herself took one step closer to reunification with Vulcan.

For it is difficult not to believe in the benevolence of a people, when one had risked his very existence, simply to take a chance that one generation might rescue the next.

Taking it all in, knowing what they all knew, as their minds were one, Verelan t’Rul’s heart swelled, and she was empowered once more.

“You are leaving… I know that now. But you endangered your own freedom, the mind of the Vulcan, all of your friends… because you could not bear to leave me this way?” the silver-haired Senator asked, knowing the answer. “Truly, you live up to your namesake, d'paenhe. I will honor your sacrifice, and I will make a difference here on the hearthworld. I swear it. Because… you will not be here to carry on my work. I know this… and I understand.”

Nodding, Mnhei'sahe stepped closer, a smile on her lips and tears building. She knew that their thoughts were one, but she still wanted to speak. And it felt good to hear her grandmother's voice again, whole.

"I have to. You've seen what's been in my mind. What I have to protect. But beyond that… you know what I have to go back for now." And immediately, what Mnhei'sahe was thinking about was shared between them. Her love for Mona Gonadie… the love that gave her the strength to endure the worst Rendal had to offer and more. And with that image in her mind, Verelan thought of the wedding bracelet she still wore on her arm in the real world that she had kept safe for her granddaughter.

And then, in her mind's eye, Verelan knew fully what Mnhei'sahe couldn't have told her about before. That her granddaughter was to become a mother herself, three times over. Knowing that truth was now something shared between them, Mnhei'sahe smiled. "I know you can make this a world I can share with them one day, Grandmother. I want them to know you."

“I want that as well, child,” the elder Rihannsu beamed proudly at her granddaughter. “Promise me this, in this fleeting moment that cannot last. Promise me that you will not forget what I have taught you, and that you will someday return to ch’Rihan to continue my work- OUR work. The work of our family. To restore our world to what it should be, what we as a people could be. To import that outsider’s perspective to the home you have never known, and bring about the change that must come for our people to become truly noble once again.”

Stepping into the personal space of her last living relative, Veleran summoned all of the dignity and presence she would have displayed on the floor of the Senate, and made her request. “Swear this to me on your honor, as a proud daughter of ch’Rihan, and as an officer of Starfleet. I can carry that hope with me, to sustain me as I scheme to outmaneuver the puppeteer in her games here at home. If you swear it to me, I will believe you, and it will light my darkest hours in the battle for the soul of our hearthworld.”

In this context, with their minds as one, there was no lying between the two women. No half-truths nor half measures- only the purest honesty and truth. In that moment, Mnhei'sahe found herself almost surprised when she found the words came to her with such ease. In her heart, she truly wanted what her grandmother wanted for her.

While she didn't know when or how, she knew that if it was in any way possible, she would return here, to try and make this world what it should be. What it once was and could be again... the home she had always dreamed of. She had responsibilities and a career and a life still to live on the Hera- but someday, she knew that she would return to this place. Rendal was right about ch'Rihan being a part of her; just not in the way she thought. "I will remember what you have taught me. On my honor as a daughter of ch'Rihan and the house Rul, and as a Starfleet officer, I swear it, grandmother."

Then the crimson-clad officer smirked slightly, looking up at her taller elder, "As for exactly HOW, I'll figure it out. After all, I have excellent guides."

The elder Rihannsu smiled, and wrapped her granddaughter in an embrace. “Try to make it within my lifetime, blood of my blood. Because I would very dearly love to see you again in this life, and not just the next. May Al’thindor guide you and keep you and yours safe… until we meet again. Please, take your wedding bracelet… it was all that I could do, but consider it my last gift to you… for now. Until we meet again, Mnhei’sahe.”

Releasing the shorter woman from the embrace, Veleran t’Rul- member of the Imperial Senate, mother to a murdered son, kidnapper, revolutionary and proud Rihannsu grandparent smiled, a wry and wistful smile as she took in the sight of her granddaughter one more time… which she fervently hoped would not be the last time. “Now go, before you are captured and all of this will have been for naught. Go, and live, and be free. Carry those lessons within you when you return, to share them with all our people.”

Standing up a bit straighter, Mnhei'sahe nodded and smiled a smile, not unlike the one opposite her on the face not unlike her own. As she did, she tugged on her uniform tunic, even though she knew it technically didn't exist as she replied, expressing a sentiment that a month ago would have seemed an alien concept to extend to the woman who had kidnapped her: love.

"Ie, Hu'nanov. Jol hwi arhem."

As she spoke, Mnhei'sahe closed her eyes and dipped her head to concentrate as she reached out to Sonak through the Mind-Meld. An instant later, in the real world, the young Starfleet pilot's eyes opened again, looking up again at the very real, turquoise skies of ch'Rihan, this time with a smile on her face. Slowly, she sat up and took a deep breath as she felt her mind become her own once again, though, inside both women, they would now always carry that small piece of each other that had connected within.

Standing up, Mnhei'sahe reached down and gently removed her wedding bracelet off Verelan's wrist and slipped it back onto her own. Then, picking up her twin blades that she had dropped earlier, brought one up and sliced off a lock of her own bright red hair and, just as gently, placed the curls in the pocket of her sleeping grandmother's robes. As she did, she nodded and turned to Sonak, Enalia, and Rita in the Cyclone and spoke, "It's done. Thank you."

At the affirmative nod of the Kolinahr master, which spoke volumes to any involved, the familiar voice came from the lead Scorpion, making a joke at a time when tensions and sentimentality were running high, even as the danger mounted. “Miss Dox? Mrs. Dox? We’ve come rather a long way to give you a lift… so how about we load up and get out of town before the welcome wagon arrives, shall we?”

Smiling, Mnhei'sahe had not realized just how good it felt to hear the voice of her Commander and bond-sister again. It was a voice she thought for a time, along with the others standing there with her, that she never thought she would hear again outside the confines of her own mind. "Aye, Commander. Let's get out of here."

At the edge of the platform, Az'Prel helped Jaeih up the ramp of the shuttle, Thex and Varnok already on-board and waiting as the Rihannsu Intel operative chuckled slightly, "Oh, by all means, lets. I've had my fill of 'Romulan' hospitality for two lifetimes."

One of the Scorpion fighters lowered itself to the landing pad in front of Dox, and the canopy raised, showcasing the very non-Romulan interior of the Cherry Bomb. On the one hand, separating the landing party was a risk. Additionally, Dox was only just recently freed from captivity. She could be damaged, traumatized… she might even make a break for it and change her mind. There was an inordinate risk in extending that trust and letting her pilot her own vehicle.

But trust had to be offered, and it had to be felt. In her heart, Rita Paris suspected the moody and emotional pilot likely needed one thing even more than that trust extended to her- and that was to feel in control of her own destiny again, with a flight stick in her hands and starship engine propelling her toward the future. So it was a risk… but the Earth girl from a long time ago in a reality far, far away was accustomed to taking risks on people, and having them prove those instincts were right. On Mnhei’sahe Dox, she had gambled many times before, and while this might just doom them all, it also might just restore some much-needed confidence to the sister she’d crossed time, space and dimensions to rescue.

“C’mon Dox… let’s fly some escort duty and get everyone back where we belong,” came the voice from the empty, open cockpit.

Looking first at the open cockpit, then at Rita's Cyclone, then back at the ship, Mnhei'sahe's face spread into a broad smile as she climbed into the cockpit. "Aye, Commander."

That same hint of an accent she had when she spoke with Enalia was still there, but if Dox realized it, it didn't show. Instead, she secured herself into the customized starcraft with an interior and flight control interface designed specifically by Mona Gonadie for her bond-mate. The seat felt like a hug and the familiar controls felt like home. Smiling, she performed a quick flight systems test as was protocol and called over, "All systems green. By your lead, Commander."

”It’s a long way home, Miss Dox. Let’s get started,” came the voice of Paris. Not an inspirational speech, not an encouragement, just an acknowledgment that it was time to go home.

In tandem, as Enalia and Sonak boarded the Shuttle, the trio of Cyclone fighters swung about and flanked the escape craft in perfect formation. As the crew of the Hera lifted up and away from the landing platform, leaving behind the Tal'Shiar compound that only an hour ago, Mnhei'sahe felt like might have been the place where her mind and freedom would be lost forever.

Soon, Mnhei’sahe would have to make her reports. She would sit down and tell the Captain and Rita everything that had happened in exacting and likely painful detail. Then she would have to repeat the tale, likely for Starfleet Inquiry boards and for competency hearings and counseling and more. But those were concerns for later. Concerns she could push aside as she flanked the port side of the Charon-Class shuttle as it ascended higher into the Rihannsu atmosphere towards the stars. Running a hand across the controls of the Cherry Bomb, she still couldn't believe that she was free.

Looking over her shoulder, she watched the cities recede into the distance. The hills and fields of the lands that she had promised to return to growing more distant as the blue-green skies of her homeworld slowly faded into the midnight-black of space. When Dox would return, it would be on her own terms. But for now, she turned back towards those stars where she knew the home she had chosen was waiting for her.

Quietly, she whispered into the stars in front of her, speaking the Rihan word for 'Angel Bird', the private name she called her bond-mate, Mona, "I'm coming home, Jhu Dhael."

Somewhere, across the cosmos, she could almost hear the reply, "Hurry home, my Minay."

The first few hours on the Golden Ghost were hectic ones for the Dox women. They had both endured a month-long ordeal that had begun with their kidnapping at the hands of the Tal'Shair and then wildly different experiences under that control. But one thing was clear when they were in Rihannsu custody: they had been prisoners.

Once the rescue was complete and they and the crew of the Hera were safely on board the Artan rescue ship, Jaeih Dox and her daughter Mnhei'sahe were taken to the ship’s medical bay, where they were given extensive screenings by the ship’s Doctor, one Maenek Helev t'Liun. They both showed signs of physical distress, malnutrition and, in Mnhei'sahe's, a variety of remnants of bruises and physical trauma that had already been attended to while she had been in the tender mercies of her own people.

The most notable discovery was the presence of trace amounts of nano-transporter tags in each woman's digestive system. The Maenek deactivated them, rendering them inert, and the next few days would likely leave both women to pass the remnants the old fashioned way. But those tags were but one of a thousand questions for each woman that would have to be answered on the five-day journey through enemy space to rendezvous with the Hera.

After their medical check-up, both women found themselves in somewhat familiar circumstances. Interaction with their friends and crew was kept to a minimum and they were escorted to separate, small, private chambers... under guard.

They hadn't been allowed to visit each other, pending a night's rest and separate debriefings in the morning. And as morning came and Jaeih Dox had cleaned and dressed in the small quarters, she prepared herself for what was to come. Once again, she found herself a prisoner, as she saw it, and she was not a happy woman about it.

A small meal had been delivered to her room and she ate it, simmering in her own thoughts. She had spent years in cells. Romulan prisons. Starfleet prisons. Some horrible, some plush and accommodating. But as she waited for the debriefing, she couldn't help but wonder how her daughter was taking it. A month of captivity had almost broken the young woman, and now her closest friends were treating her as a potential enemy. It was perfectly sensible, all things considered, but sense and protocol were cold comforts under the circumstances. Circumstances that Jaeih knew had to be weighing even harder on her daughter, which simply made her more upset.

Then, a chirp on the door came, and the guard came in and escorted her through the refurbished Rihannsu Bird of Prey to a small conference room. In the center of the room was a table. Behind the table, was Commander Rita Paris, in her typical gold uniform looking very much as she always did, save for the cosmetic surgery that was still in place while they were in enemy space that made her look like a Rihanna woman.

Jaeih stood, arms folded behind her back with a flat expression on her face, waiting. Once again, she would have to earn the woman's trust and she wondered how many more times it would happen.

Standing up as she entered the room, Paris waited for the Romulan rescue to settle. Then she slowly walked around to the same side of the table, and wrapped the woman in a rather fierce hug.

“This isn’t part of the official debriefing, and it’s horribly unprofessional, I know. But I’ve been very afraid for a very long time that we’d lost you two, and that we were never going to see you again. To your daughter I have to be The Commander and set an example, but… words cannot convey just how relieved I am to see you, Mrs. Dox.” There was some sniffling, and when the human woman pulled back, there were tears in her eyes and an oddly happy smile on her face, that seemed somewhat out of place with the sharp brows and pointed ears that somehow just looked odd on the woman once described to Jaeih as 'the humanest human to ever human'.

Jaeih stood, arms folded behind her back with a flat expression on her face, waiting. Once again, she would have to earn the woman's trust and she thought to herself, Must I once again work to earn their trust?

Standing up as she entered the room, Paris waited for the Romulan rescue to settle. Then she slowly walked around to the same side of the table, and wrapped the woman in a rather fierce hug.

Confused, Jaeih's eyebrows cricked up as she thought, Apparantly not

Still, Jaeih hadn't returned the hug, standing rather straight as she kept her own composure. She was remarkably unsure as to how to respond to the emotional display, but couldn't quite contain her usual, dry humor in spite of herself. "I would assume the official debriefing will have considerably less... hugging, then? To which I'm curious as to the purpose here. We're still in a conference room under guard."

“Yes… we are,” Paris admitted, embarrassed by her own display now, and blushing a shade that would have betrayed her iron-based red blood to anyone who knew the difference. Moving back around the table to take a set, she indicated to Jaeih to do the same. "My apologies for my unprofessional display... not exactly setting you at ease."

“Yes, Mrs. Dox, this is the first debriefing, of which I assume there will be a few," Paris admitted. "And yes, this is official in capacity, and yes, we do have to follow procedure. You were captured and held by the Tal’Shiar for a month, and they literally used brainwashing techniques in addition to psychological warfare. Thus the observer and the guard. We both know that if you choose to move to violence you are a far more skilled hand to hand combatant than I, and this small space would work to your advantage. So we must proceed carefully and methodically, which I would assume that you would understand.”

Even as Rita had said the words, the trained observer noticed the small details. Paris was more tanned than last she had seen her- life on a starship tended to leave her rather pale for the most part, yet Paris was sporting a deep tan. While her uniform covered her physical topography as it always did, the tight hug had revealed that the woman was more defined and a touch more muscular then the last time they were together. Her hands bore a few small scars, clearly of recent minor injuries that had healed without the benefit of modern medicine.

It seemed there were a few elements that did not add up, particularly given that Paris seemed to regard the month of her absence to be a much longer period of time than it actually was, which also seemed excessive. However, Jaeih knew this was to be her 'debriefing', and not Rita Paris', so she logged her questions for when they were more appropriate.

As she glanced at the unfamiliar 'observer' also in the room, Jaeih's eyes narrowed ever so slightly. The mysterious man was a Miradonian. And much like Jaeih's Miradonian daughter-in-law, that meant he was a living lie-detector as was common for the race. 

Turning back to Paris, Jaeih folded her hands in front of her on the table and nodded. "Wise precautions, all. Were I in your position, I would be doing much the same. That said, the first thing I can tell you that might put your mind at ease, is that my experience and Mnhei'sahe's were vastly different. I was there as little more than leverage to use against her. Once onboard, I was deposited in my cell and largely abandoned there for most of the time I was there. I spent one evening in a joined cell with Mnhei'sahe's grandmother... who had been taken prisoner as well... where we talked before I... for lack of a better term... escaped said cell. But during that time, I was asked no questions or exposed to any brainwashing techniques beyond... almost complete isolation by my captors."

At the mention of her escape, Paris smirked and nodded. “All right, Mrs. Dox. Let’s take it from the top, then. You know how this goes- you lay out the story, I ask probing questions trying to poke holes in it, and we establish a timeline and revise it a few times. Let’s start in the restaurant, and finish with how you ended up in command of a Scorpion fighter to assist our rescue efforts. Please elaborate on any facts of which you are aware of Lieutenant Dox’s experience as well, as that will help us make determinations moving forward.”

Looking deep into Rita’s eyes, Jaeih simply nodded and begun her story. She had told the attentive commander of the attack at the restaurant where she killed five Tal’Shiar operatives and bargained for Mona’s freedom. She told her of her two weeks in isolation in the brig of the Warbird that had begun to weigh heavily upon her, threatening to break her will, recalling too closely, her prior years of solitary confinement on a Romulan Penal Asteroid.

All the while, the Miradonian in the corner continued to nod occasionally, confirming the truth of every detail. And occasionally, Rita would interject as promised and ask for details to be repeated, clarified or expounded further on. Interrogation techniques designed to weed out falsehoods and reveal if stories had been practiced. But Jaeih remained focused and her story never wavered.

Then she told Rita of the painful experience of believing that Mnhei’sahe might have been compromised. She told her of how her daughter, once she had finally been allowed to see her, seemed to have difficulty maintaining a dialogue in English and how she was parroting her grandmother’s words. But then she told her of the secret code that the two women knew that Jaeih had been almost too far gone to notice and she recited, almost word for word, the speeches Mnhei’sahe had made trying to sway their captors to reason. “Speeches you would have been proud of.” Jaeih said with a slight smile and the hint of pride for her daughter.

But the smile faded quickly as Jaeih then spoke of her Daughter then spending a week shackled to a chair while she continued to try and reason with Rendal while Verelan had been taken away and beaten. She told Rita, with pain clearly behind her own eyes, of Rendal’s cruelty that the elder Intel operative could only hear from her own cell. Of the horror of having to listen from her own cell as the man she loved… Mnhei’sahe’s father… was reintroduced to the young woman only to be executed in front of her.

It was a recitation that took more out of Jaeih than she had anticipated and Ria had allowed her a moment to compose herself, though the gilded Starfleet officer had to resist her own desire to embrace the damaged woman once again.

After a moment, Jaeih continued. She told Rita of the long talk she had in a shared cell with a beaten and bruised Verelan t’Rul. She told the commander of Verelan’s beliefs and her desires for her granddaughter, completely unguarded. Then she described the nightmare of being forced to watch as Rendal then stripped away the Senator's mind, making her into little more than a puppet.

Then came the details of her escape, made when Rendal had taken Mnhei’sahe for her own ‘treatment’ in the device known as the Neural Extraction Converter.

“Mnhei’sahe recognized it first.” Jaeih said as she talked. “There was an AnteCenturion that guarded us. He was the one that came into our cells to feed us, and I was too furious to see his compassion. But when Mnhei’sahe was taken and the cellblock was otherwise empty, he came back. He said that he believed that Mnhei’sahe had been trying to tell him to come to me, so he did. His name is Pajom tr’Sahe, and in the cellblock, while the security was turned away from us for a moment, he told me what he could do. Tr’Sahe was loyal, not to the Tal’Shair, but to Verelan and her family, which extends to Mnhei’sahe.”

An odd smile crept on her face as she spoke, “Also loyal was the officer on security camera duty that day, and he was looking the other way while Rendal was busy. Verelan has never been a fool. She knew Rendal might betray her and she had made plans for an escape. An escape for ALL of us, it turned out. She had been unable to enact her plan before her own mind was taken, but tr’Sahe had carried out his part. Those nanotags the Doctor spoke of… he had been feeding them to us without our knowledge for days. Shielded from the ship's sensors, they were programmed so that if he had to, he could beam Verelan, Mnhei’sahe and even me to her private shuttle in the ship's hold. It was controlled by a transmitter in his disruptor.”

“His loyalty was… impressive. All Mnhei’sahe did was give him a look… a glance towards my cell, and he trusted that. Obeyed what he believed was her wishes and came to me. So, we quickly worked out a plan. We faked an escape attempt during my feeding and in that attempt, he fired on me. It was designed to look as if I’d been disintegrated, but I had been beamed to Verelan’s ship. From there, it was simple enough to send out a coded message to you, which I’m assuming was received since you found us. And then I waited, eventually killing and replacing one of the pilots of the escort Scorpions.” Jaeih finished, looking weary for the telling. “I had hoped that from there, if you hadn’t shown, that I might have a chance to get to her myself and get her at least out of Rendal’s hands.”

“Your faith in us is inspiring, Mrs. Dox,” Paris observed as she tapped away at the PaDD that seemed to live in her hand when she was aboard a starship. “An impressive tale, and well played, I must say. I’ve a few follow-up questions we’ll get to in the next few days, and the Captain may specify some questions as well. But between this report and Mister Sonak’s vouchsafe, you are welcome to take some leave when we return to Federation space should you desire. There will also be some mandatory counseling of course, to talk about the experience and assist you through any potential long-term trauma. Beyond that, I feel inclined to tell you that you are once again free on your own recognizance.”

Nodding, Jaeih relented to the procedures she knew would be coming. She wasn't looking forward to mandatory anything, per say, but she understood the need, nonetheless. "Thank you, Commander."

As the usually closed off Intelligence operative stood, having been given her leave, she paused. "Commander… if we are concluded with the official portion of the briefing, there is something I need to say."

“By all means, Mrs. Dox.” Setting the tablet down on the table, Commander Paris folded her hands in her lap and looked up expectantly. “If you have need to express yourself, we can keep this off the official record.”

"In the time we have known one other, you have proven yourself to be a woman of great honor and integrity. You measure your wisdom with warmth, and what you all risked for her… for us both… is a debt I shall bear with pride." But as she spoke, her posture shifted slightly to a more maternal one. "But remember, you are more than a Commander to her. You are her Rinam… her sister… and you are her guiding star. She will need all of that."

There was a brief moment of silence as the old-school officer considered her words. When she spoke, her voice was quiet and controlled. “Your daughter once told me that she would cross time and space to find me, were I lost. Which happens to me more often than one might expect. In this instance, I came a very, very long way to come for you two. The entire time, my greatest fear was that as a traitor to the Star Empire, they might well have executed you. As much as that loss would affect the Hera and her crew, the effect on Mnhei’sahe would have been devastating.”

“I literally crossed burning wastes, climbed mountains, fought armies and monsters and even got a little weird,” Paris flicked her tapered pointed ears to illustrate her point. “It’s what she would have done for me, and I could do no less. Rest assured, Mrs. Dox- I will be here for you both. Today, tomorrow, and as long as the universe lets me stick around. We are family.”

Those last three words were simple, but the ancient astronaut spoke them with the gravity and sincerity that carried the weight of her words. From another dimension, a dozen decades ago, she had no blood relatives, no family to claim her. But she held the heart of a Kolinahr, a rarity beyond compare. She was sisters with Romulans and pirates, and carried them with her in the heart of an explorer. In that simple statement, she encompassed her basic philosophy of family- they were not blood, they were choice.

Jaeih Dox was a part of that family, and the living anachronism would be there for her, as well.

Raising an eyebrow, Jaeih replied somewhat flatly, restoring her earlier demeanor of practiced Rihannsu detachment. "Well then... as family I look forward to the opportunity of hearing exactly where you've been while we were on our little vacation. Perhaps, over dinner back on the Hera after you've had an opportunity to look much less... distracting. Really, it's good you stayed in the Cyclone. Even now, I've never seen someone look quite so human."

“On both counts, I’d be delighted, Mrs. Dox. Of course it’s quite a tale… but then our lives are writ large, as a wise man once told me, and it falls to us to rise to that challenge.” Offering a slight tilt of the head, Paris beamed a smile. “I am very, very glad to hear that you rose to the occasion, Mrs. Dox. The universe would be far poorer without you in it. And I have an appointment with the surgeon today to get back to looking… well, properly human again. I’ll leave the sharp brows and pointed ears to those who wear them well.”

"Excellent. You... wear humanity exceptionally well, Commander. Jolan'tru." Jaeih offered a brief nod as she turned to the door. As she walked out, she raised a hand and made a 'shooing' gesture to the guard that had been escorting her as the door closed behind her. "I know my way. You are free to latch on to someone else, now."

In the corridor of the strange, Artan-ran Rihhansu vessel, Jaeih walked away from the small conference room to the turbolift. Her judgmental facade never once slipped as the ship's crew, all her own people, walked past silently. But once in the lift, as the doors closed and the salt-and-pepper haired older woman let out a deep sigh and her shoulders slumped a bit as she let herself slump back against the rear wall.

Taking a moment before telling the lift where to go, she smiled softly and let out a slight chuckle as she whispered to herself in her mother-tongue. "Family. Elements willing, I may... actually get used to the idea at this rate."

Walking slowly through the corridors of the Golden Ghost, Mnhei'sahe Dox's head seemed to almost wobble on her neck as she held it as high as she could, but it was an act of considerable effort for the young Rihannsu woman at the moment. 

Escorted by a member of the Artan-Run Rihannsu Privateer vessel, the Golden Ghost, she had just come from the small, oddly claustrophobic quarters she had been assigned to for the five-day journey from ch'Rihan to the Hera, waiting on the Federation side of the Neutral Zone. She had only gone in to the chamber to take a brief sonic shower and change into the clean clothes left for her. a simple black, pull-over top and black uniform pants.

Internally, Dox had desperately wished it was her crimson Starfleet uniform, but as she walked to the ship's conference room for her first official debriefing, her mind was a cottony mess of self-doubt. Knowing all that had happened during the month she had been both prisoner and so-called guest of the Rihannsu Warbird, The People's Will, Mnhei'sahe wondered if she would ever wear a Starfleet uniform again.

While she was clean and freshly dressed, she looked haggard. Her curly red hair was slightly disheveled and her eyes were slightly sunken, with dark green bags under them.

Her escort waited outside the door to her room while she had showered, and before that, he followed her to the few places she had been allowed to go on the ship since she arrived with the rescue team from the Hera. But she knew what he really was. Another Rihannsu guard on another Rihannsu ship that, in the night since her arrival, had come to feel entirely too much like the People's Will to her. At the moment, pending what was sure to be an avalanche of debriefings, hearings, and reviews, she was viewed as a potential security risk. As such, her guard was there to make sure she didn't go anywhere off-limits. 

As she approached the room, the door already open, Mnhei'sahe clutched the small Artan PaDD she held in her hands, crossed in front of her and took a deep breath. Then, stepping into the doorway, she stood at attention and paused as she stopped herself from starting with Lieutenant Dox and simply said, "Reporting as ordered, Commander."

Looking up from the paperwork she was reviewing, Commander Rita Paris looked the woman over slowly and thoughtfully, tapped out something on her PaDD, then spoke to the Miradonian in the corner. “Mister Fritterson, go take a break. I’ll call you when you’re needed.”

In the corner, the Miradonian looked somewhat puzzled, but silently complied with the request and left the room. Once he was gone, Paris spoke again, gesturing to the seat opposite her across the table.

“Take a seat, Miss Dox,” Paris ordered, rising from her own chair to come around the table and park her miniskirted rear on the edge of the desk in a surprisingly casual manner. "For the record, this part is off the record. We’ll get to the debriefing and your initial report, and all of the attendant bureaucracy and paperwork and counseling and everything else, but… for now, talk to me. You look like hell, and where’s your uniform? Did you even sleep last night?”

Sitting down, Mnhei'sahe put her PaDD down on the table and bit the bottom of her lip slightly. "I... according to every regulation I read... my commission is on suspension pending an investigation, counseling and independent debriefing. And... there wasn't a replicator and... this was what was available for me in the room, Commander."

Talking, her usually raspy voice sounded that much more so in the moment. She looked up at Rita, and lightly shook her head. "And... um... no. The guard said I could go to the ship's mess hall. I... I worked on my report there and... stayed." Looking down slightly, Dox sighed lightly. "I tried to sleep in that room, but... the fixtures and materials and even the sound of the engine... it's... It's too much like... I couldn't sleep there, Commander."

Reaching over to lay her hand on the shaken woman's hand, the lost navigator's blue eyes searched those of the rescued Romulan. "Rita... in here, right now, it's Rita, okay? No Lieutenant, no Commander, no recordings... just you and me. Look, I have some idea what you've been through. I do. You melded with Sonak, then Sonak melds with me... and while he doesn't offer such things, in this case I asked, and he obliged. Because I needed to know. I needed to understand. I've never been kidnapped by the Romulans... wait..." Rita frowned slightly, rolling her eyes up to the ceiling as she checked her memory of her extensive and highly improbable career, then shook her head.

"No, not kidnapped by Romulans, at least," she said, making eye contact as she hoped that might have lightened the mood... which it hadn't. So instead, as she was wont to do, the woman nicknamed the Lost Navigator changed course.

"I'm sorry about your father."

As Rita said the words, Mnhei'sahe's stomach tightened and she tensed up for a second. In her mind's eye, she could still see him standing in front of her. She could still feel his hand on her cheek. "For a while there, I thought... Rendal had taken them all She killed him, robbed my grandmother of her mind. And when I thought that mother had been..."

The words came out as an almost stream of consciousness as Mnhei'sahe looked into those blue eyes, her own heavy and shuddering. And the more emotional she got, the thicker the remnant of her once-hidden accent seemed to get. "I wanted... I wanted to kill her. But worse. When she killed him... gave him back just to take him away... afterwards... I wanted to..."

Then, looking down in frustration, Mnhei'sahe clenched her fists and let out a muttered stream of obscenities in her native tongue, "Fvadt! Arham kreldanni kuoku... I just wanted to... to give up."

There was silence for a moment, as both women let that hang in the air, and Paris carefully considered her response. When she spoke, her voice was low and even. “I was on Vulcan when the call came in, and we immediately set out for Romulus. Would you like to know what my first and foremost concern was in that moment, and the moments moving forward? That they took your mother.”

“You, I understand. You have access to very sensitive materials and you’ve been exposed to some rather extreme circumstances and missions. The Star Empire’s interest in you wasn’t surprising. But your mother… she’s a traitor to the Star Empire. I knew they took her for leverage over you… and I was so afraid, so very afraid that they were just going to torture and murder her, to break you.” It was clear from her tone this had been weighing on Rita for some time now.

“Do you know who I wasn’t worried for? You. Because you are stronger than you know. Because you are a capable and competent officer. Because you have been shown your own strength time and again. Because I trained you, and taught you what I know of how to be an officer, and how to comport yourself. Because I knew that however hopeless it might have seemed, you knew we were coming for you, and that you hadn’t seen the last of the Hera nor her crew. Because that’s what you would have done, and you knew we would do no less.” Leaning in slightly, Paris smiled, a little piper’s smile.

“So through it all, I was not worried about you, because I believe in you. Because you are a Starfleet officer, and a darn good one.” At that Rita stood and slowly paced the room, speaking with her hands as she did so. “Yes, you are emotional, but that’s not a bad thing. Yes, you have a tendency to assume blame that is not yours, or condemn yourself unfairly- but you are getting better about that all the time. So with all due respect to your emotional fragility and your trauma over the experience, you are speaking of one of the officers under my tutelage. One whom I personally trained and prepared for the burdens of leadership and command.”

Stopping, Paris pivoted in place and directed her words not to the walls as she walked and talked, but directly to Dox herself, making significant and dramatic eye contact. “So if it isn’t too much trouble, I would appreciate it greatly if you would not refer to that officer as ‘a fucking child’ in my presence. Because she is far, far from such a thing, and I’ll not have you assault the honor of such an officer in my presence. Hm?” Ending the diatribe with a warm smile, Rita hoped it would have the desired effect.

Immediately, Mnhei'sahe's cheeks blushed green betraying her momentary embarrassment. In her fatigue, she had forgotten Rita speaking and clearly understanding Rendal as the two spoke in Rihan during the rescue mission, and would have to ask later how she had learned the language so quickly when it was appropriate. Still, the diatribe was more than a little familiar, as Dox recalled her lowest moment in the brig, after her father had been killed. That moment where she had hallucinated a somewhat similar conversation, with an imagined Rita Paris who had helped her get through the worst of it, and remind her of who she was... just as the real one did now.

“And yes, we are still very much off the record here. Just thee and me here, okay?" Paris offered a gentle smile, and her tone was reassuring, and in it Dox could hear her pride in the young officer. "You didn't give up. You held on, bided for time and did what you could with what you had where you were, and I- WE are very proud of you for that. Understand?”

The slightest of smiles cracked Mnhei'sahe's face as she nodded slightly at her commanding officer and friend. Part of her wanted to protest. To reinforce all the ways she felt her own failure. To rage at her own victimhood petulantly. But she knew better. She had spent a month not succumbing to her own weakness. She had kept her cool and calmly debated with the woman who murdered her father, sword fighting incident notwithstanding. She was here and alive and in control of her own mind because of exactly what Rita was saying and in that moment, with all of that doubt and self-recrimination going through her head, she did her best to accept it.

"Thank you. I... couldn't have gotten through this without you, Rita." Mnhei'sahe said, awkwardly not knowing quite how to reply, "Even when... you're not even there, you're good at getting me out of my own head. Which... I suppose... considering the mind meld, you saw that too?"

"Mmmm, no, no idea what you mean. But if you remembered what I've taught you and it served you... well, that's why I taught you. I'm glad I could be there for you in spirit, at least." Cocking her head a bit to the side, Rita offered one of those smiles that warmed a room. "Someday it'll be your turn, you know, and it comes sooner than you think. So I am glad to see you embracing these lessons, because you will be the one teaching them before you know it."

While she was still smiling, it was clear that Mnhei'sahe's energy was low from the lack of sleep, reaching up to rub her eyes a bit as she replied, "Well, hopefully, Starfleet will agree and allow me to continue on the Hera. Or, at least, in some capacity as an officer. But... with everything that happened... I... I don't know..."

"Don't be so dramatic," Paris replied, levering herself off the edge of the table to walk around it and sit down in her chair. "Your commission isn't suspended. Yes, you are relieved of duty until such time as you are cleared for active duty, and that will take a little time. But we're not booting you out of Starfleet for getting kidnapped by a Tal'Shiar extremist who tried to brainwash you and 'turn you to the dark side'. It may be easier and more seductive, but you are already under the tutelage of the light side, and I expect you'll choose to stay with us. After all, we offer the freedom to choose, and they do not. We offer exploration and peaceful resolution, they do not. So I'm not worried, and neither should you. Tell your story, be honest like you always are, and stand by your choices. You'll be fine, Mnhei'sahe."

Sighing, Mnhei'sahe grinned, a bit more relaxed. She knew when she chose to reclaim her original name, it was awkward for some of the crew, as Rihan words aren't always the easiest to pronounce. But she always enjoyed hearing Rita say it. "Indeed. My... lack of choices was made... abundantly clear to me with regularity during my everything. My options were just different levels of compliance. In comparison, crew rotation paperwork, repair schedules and all the minutiae of the Flight Control Department feel like... a stay on Risa."

Allowing herself to relax a bit more, Dox slumped slightly and ran her hand through her hair with a tired expression. "Even still... when I was a child, what they were offering was... it was the life I had only imagined. I used to dream about that. And I won't lie to you and tell you it was easy to keep myself focused. To deny not just them, but that little girl's voice in the back of my mind that grew up wanting that... because she didn't know any better."

"But I do know better. And I know where I want to be, Rita." Mnhei'sahe said, nodding her head with lips pursed and a bit more strength in her voice.

"Good." Nodding firmly, Paris leaned in across the table. "So... I know you're tired because staying up all night pacing and fretting can take it out of you. But what do you say we get this initial debrief out of the way, so we can get on with the business of getting you back to your life? No better therapy-" Paris paused as there was a chime at the door, and she rose, coming around the table to answer it. Taking the delivery, she came back around in sight of Dox.

"Speaking of which, just what the doctor ordered." Setting down a small bundle of neatly folded clothing on the table, on top was the bright red tunic of a Starfleet uniform, with two gold pips on the chest. Sliding them in front of the renegade Romulan, the gold-clad commander of a bygone age patted the bundle gently. "Why don't I excuse myself, so you can change into something more comfortable, hm?"

Looking down at the bundle for a moment, Mnhei'sahe's face easily betrayed her emotions as she looked down at the deep, crimson uniform. It was a luxury she had not allowed herself for the last month where she had to learn to completely mask her emotions as a constant act of self-preservation. But there was no need in the here and now, and certainly not with Rita Paris who, herself, spared a smile as she watched the women she had chosen to take under her wing smile.

The smile on Mnhei'sahe's face was tired but well earned. She brought a hand up and ran her fingers across the texture of the uniform as she took in the details. Details she feared she might never truly see again, much less wear. Them as she pursed her lips as she ran her fingers over those twin gold pips she had worked so hard to earn and nodded, "Yes. I think... I think that's well past due, Commander."

As she spoke, she used her friend and chosen sister's rank. But it was said with all the same warmth and comfort of saying the woman's name as, not deference to Rita's rank, but as an affirmation of her own. Affirmation that she was finally on her way home and back to the life she had chosen. The life she had earned.

Patting the shoulder of the complex young woman whose rescue was not something she had hoped to expect, nor a career she had ever expected to be returned to, Commander Rita Paris simply added, "Welcome back, Lieutenant."

No other words were needed, nor spoken.