When the T’liss class Bird of Prey, The Golden Ghost, known in Rihan as the Isahj’ey aehallh, uncloaked on the Federation side of the Neutral Zone with the command crew of the U.S.S. Hera, there was a palpable sigh of relief that more than a few of them shared. The mission to rescue Lieutenant Mnhei’sahe Dox and her mother, Jaeih, from the tender mercies of the Romulan Tal’Shiar had been successful and the Hera, which had quickly become home to the embattled young officer, had never felt so wonderful to be so near.

Goodbyes were given to the crew of the Artan-run, Rihannsu ship that had risked itself to aid in the rescue of one of their own Baronesses as her commander, the doctor (or Maenek, in Rihan) Helev t’Liun bid each a personal farewell on behalf of the Ghost’s crew.

Accepting graciously, Mnhei’sahe truthfully couldn’t wait to be off of the ship. While it had been the vehicle of her rescue and, on the outside, a classic T'liss class Bird of Prey from Rita Paris' era, the interiors had been modernized and updated to look a little too close internally to the modern d'Deridex-class ship that had been her prison for a month and the similarities had made the 5-day journey through enemy space and the Neutral Zone understandably stressful for the redheaded Rihannsu pilot. She had found sleeping in the chambers she had been assigned nearly impossible, as it felt entirely too much like the quarters she had spent so much time in while on her grandmother’s Warbird, The People’s Will.

As the majority of the transferred crew had simply beamed back over to the Hera, it had been a simple enough goodby. However, they had brought the three Cyclone fighters with them and they needed to be returned which would also serve as the means by which Rita Paris could safely disembark without risking transport. And while the other two Cyclones, with all of their holographic disguises deactivated and restored to their Gold, Red, and Teal paint colors, were easily slaved to Rita’s controls in her Golden chariot, dubbed the Getaway Driver, Mnhei’sahe had a request to make.

As the Crimson-Uniformed Lieutenant entered the flight deck of the Ghost, the ship's commander was heading towards the doors to exit the bay as she stepped up to the entering Dox with a more professional demeanor as she bowed lightly, speaking the native language of both women. “Baroness, I was just saying to the Captain and Commander Paris that it has been an honor serving you and yours in this endeavor. I am glad to have seen you before you departed. Group farewells tend to be… impersonal."

Somewhat nervous regarding the pomp and circumstance around being not just a Starfleet officer, but also a Baroness in the Artan Privateer fleet, Mnhei’sahe returned the bow respectfully, replying in Rihan. “The honor is mine, Doctor. You and your crew risked everything to help my mother and myself… and I will never forget that. I am in your debt. Thank you.”

With the lightest of grins, the slightly older, somewhat taller Rihannsu woman replied, "If you will excuse the unintentional name-dropping, our mnhei'sahe needed to be restored and balance has been returned. Our debt to you was my pleasure to repay. That said, know that the Golden Ghost and her crew will always be at your disposal should you ever have need of us again."

"It's a smaller Galaxy then one might think, Doctor. It's good to know we have friends. And…" as Mnhei'sahe spoke, her tone shifted to a quieter one as she glanced around a bit before continuing. "And… thank you again for the… assistance with sleeping. The medication you provided was… very helpful."

Smiling back, t'Liun simply nodded and matched Doc's hushed tone. "It is my duty as Maenek to ensure that all under my care have all that they need for their health, including sleep, Baroness. While we strove to provide every comfort to you, I do understand the issues you were having. Were I in your position in a ship that too closely resembled my prison, I doubt I would have been sleeping softly without assistance either."

Then she stood up a little straighter and brought her voice back up, "That said, I hope that when next we see you, the Ghost will be more comfortable for you, for her walls are yours. Safe journeys, Baroness Dox. May the Elements be with you, Jolan'tru."

Nodding back, Mnhei'sahe returned the old Rihannsu greeting, "Jolan'tru, Maenek."

As the doctor departed, Mnhei'sahe took a look around the Ghost's flight deck and smiled as she saw the vibrant colors of the three Cyclones. And standing next to them talking were Captain Telvan and Rita Paris. Both women had been successfully restored to their respective Trill and Human appearances and were clad in their normal uniforms as they finished whatever it was they were discussing and turned towards the approaching pilot as Mnhei'sahe stepped over to them.

"Captain. Commander. Before we return to the Hera… I was hoping to make a request." Mnhei'sahe asked, standing professionally in her crimson uniform and looking better than she had when she had first come on board.

"Pilot the Cherry Bomb over so that you can make a proper reappearance on the flight deck, to show the crew under your command that you're back, all is well and the status quo is restored?" Rita hazarded a guess. It was what she would have done, after all, and she suspected the request was of that nature.

Smiling slightly, as Rita Paris was uniquely adept at reading her, Mnhei'sahe nodded. "Aye, Commander. I've been thinking about it. About when I picked you up from Meroset 347 and we had talked about the importance of maintaining appearances in command, so I thought it would be appropriate to put my best proverbial foot forward."

"I completely concur, Lieutenant. I'd toss you the keys if they had any, but she's all yours. I'll bring Curiosity in on a slaved helm, but why don't you go ahead so you can enjoy your appropriate fanfare on the flight deck. I'll give you a five-minute head start, all right?" Paris clapped the young pilot on the shoulder with a smile. "Go start your homecoming, Miss Dox, There are a lot of people waiting to see you."

"Actually, I think I'll be piloting Curiosity back myself. Captain's prerogative." Enalia grinned that piratical grin of hers as she handed a datapad back to one of the Ghost's crew. "But I concur. I think that showing the flight deck crew that you came back under your own power will go a long way towards both their peace of mind, and your own mental well being. I also have a feeling that Mona is already waiting for you on the flight deck near the R&D bay."

Keeping her professional composure, and nodding, Mnhei’sahe replied with a smile nonetheless. “Thank you, Commander. Thank you, Captain.”

Turning slightly towards the Cherry Bomb, Mnhei’sahe paused and turned back with a smile. “Plus… I… I really want to see her again. The Hera. And there’s no way better way than in the Cherry Bomb, really.”

"Take a pass around her and take it in, Lieutenant. We understand," Paris declared. After all, they were all pilots, and they all understood falling in love with a starship, then seeing her again after a prolonged absence. Like returning to the arms of a lover once more. "Go, your preflights are already finished and you're expected."

A moment later, Mnhei’sahe was in the cockpit of the small, crimson fighter craft already feeling more at home in the cockpit custom-designed for her by her bond-mate and wife, Mona Gonadie. The brilliant inventor had made the controls of the Cherry Bomb specifically for Mnhei’sahe’s style of piloting, just as she had customized the golden Getaway Driver to Rita Paris’ personal style. Which made Mnhei’sahe feel remarkably good... as if sitting in that seat got her that much closer to her Mona.

Then, after a quick systems check and clearance from the Ghost, Mnhei’sahe quickly launched out into space and swung the ship up and around, bringing her over the classically styled Rihannsu Bird of Prey from another era that had shepherded her home. Then, as she crested the edge of the Ghost, the Hera came into view.

Seeming to rise into view like a beautiful sunset of pearlescent black glory, Mnhei’sahe’s eyes started to water at the magnificent starship that she called home and in her darkest moments had feared she thought she would see again. In that moment, as she brought the Cyclone around the port side of the Hera’s saucer, slowly arcing over the top to truly get a view, she called into the flight control for clearance. Because as beautiful as the Hera was and as much as she loved seeing her again, that beauty paled to the beauty she really wanted to see, and she couldn’t wait a moment longer.

The voice of Ensign MacNielle came over the comm, giving her clearance to land on the main flight deck. Wasting no time, Dox twisted the ship up and over the Hera’s dorsal side and flipped her back in line with the Hera’s alignment as the door to the Main Flight Deck into space slowly opened.

Bringing the Cherry Bomb in, she looked slowly around as the Hera’s tractor beams took over and gently brought the ship to a halt on the landing circle in the center of the elevated platform of the flight deck. The flight deck was busy, as always, with crewmembers moving to and fro across the deck hard at work. Ensign’s Gavarus and O’Dell were on the upper deck where the R&D Department was located, working on Mona’s pet-project, the Silver Banshee. The three-armed and three-legged Edosian pilot, Ensign Weiaex was crossing the lower deck with several Nacelle parts on a Mag-Lev dolly. Ensign Jessica MacNielle was standing at the control console with a noticeable grin, but there was no fanfare to be found, for which Mnhei’sahe was quite happy.

Over the comm, Ensign MacNielle called in, “Good to see you again, Lieutenant.”

“Thank you, Ensign. If you would, please, clear and prepare the deck. The Getaway Driver and Curiosity will be coming in momentarily.”

As the cockpit hissed open and MacNielle replied her acknowledgment, Mnhei’sahe powered down the ship according to protocol. Climbing out, she stood for a moment, hand still on the side of the small starship and took in the sight of the Flight Deck, which was one of her favorite places to be. It was where she worked the most, and there was only one place on the Hera she was more comfortable. And as she thought about that… and about her… she felt something.

Looking over to the office to the R&D Department, was its chief- Ensign Mona Gonadie.

Walking quickly, but maintaining her professional composure, Mnhei’sahe’s eyes were fixed on the sight of her love at her office as she walked past the control booth, “You have the deck, Ensign MacNielle.” Stepping past the Banshee, Mnhei’sahe noticed the even shorter, even more red-haired test Pilot, Fiona O’Dell nudge her friend and personal engineer, Briaar Gavarus and smirk while they watched. The flight chief chuckled, and smiled slightly at the pair as she walked past, even faster.

The tears and smile on Mona's face were certainly what drew the most attention, but the fact that she was already wearing a maternity uniform top almost passed notice as she jogged the short distance to her love, pausing just outside of arm's reach before slamming herself into Dox's embrace. "Oh... My Minay... We've missed you so very much."

With the embrace, the usual thrumming from Mona could be heard, but there seemed to be something else, almost imperceptible to it... More resonance to the frequency, perhaps.

Wrapping her arms tightly around her, clutching her Miradonian bride as if her life depended on it, was everything Mnhei’sahe had in her not to simply break down crying right there on the flight deck in full view of the entire crew. But she had Mona’s strength now as their bond… which had saved her mind and her life more than once… was reconnected for the first time in what had been the longest month of her life. Perhaps of both of their lives.

In that moment, the flight deck seemed to vanish as Mnhei’sahe scrunched her eyes shut and felt an almost overwhelming rush of energy from her Bond-Mate flood into her. As it had been for months since their bonding ceremony, Mona’s once blue energy was, like her own, permanently Lavender. Permanently merged as one. But swirling around that rush of lavender light that filled the emotional pilot was something more. Three somethings. Three radiances of swirling colors, changing and pulsing as the tendrils of light wrapped around their joined energy with an impossible warmth. A warmth that thrummed in perfect rhythm with Mona’s own.

Putting her heads on the sides of Mona’s brilliantly plumed face, both women’s cheeks wet now with tears of impossible joy, Mnhei’sahe looked deeply into those large, shimmering amber pools and chuckled as her own smile grew wide. “Is… Is that them?”

Mona nodded with glee, her own hands now exploring her lover's face as well, her own eyes lost in Dox's. "It is. They started humming five days ago. I took it as a sign... that you would be back soon."

“Five days…” Mnhei’sahe chuckled again. “That’s when the others came for me. I guess they’re smart.” Then she leaned her forehead against Mona’s. She knew that before long, everything that had happened to her would be known to Mona through the nature of their bond. That closeness that had linked the two women’s souls and now the souls of their three, unborn children.

“Every day…” The Rihannsu pilot whispered, “Every day, I thought of you. Reached out to you. This… this bond. It saved me. It saved me every day. It kept me from losing everything I was to them. YOU saved me, Jhu Dhael.”

"And you kept me sane, my Minay," Mona replied, letting her eyes close and the tears flow freely now. "I never want to be apart from you again. Wherever you go, I will be there."

“You were. You were with me the whole time.” Mnhei’sahe replied, even softer as she rested her head to the side of Mona’s. The rhythm of the Miradonian woman’s thrumming filled the Rihannsu Lieutenant with an impossible comfort as the two simply held each other for a long moment.

Then, pulling slightly apart, Mnhei’sahe smiled broadly down at Mona before looking around the deck. At the control booth, Ensign MacNielle quickly looked down at the control console and pretended to work, clearly not actually touching the controls. Over by the Runabout Selune, the orange-skinned Ensign Weiaex was signing off on the transfer of parts to a repair technician, both of them also trying to look like they hadn’t been watching and hiding grins. Then Mnhei'sahe turned her attention to the unconventional pair of Briaar Gavarus and Fiona O'Dell next to the Banshee mech.

Both of whom were trying very poorly to conceal the fact that the heartfelt reunion had reduced both of them to tears, as they tried to unsuccessfully conceal their tears and nose-blowing at the scene that they were both trying very hard to not eavesdrop on, yet were clearly doing precisely that.

Mona glanced over at her two troublemakers and grinned at them for a moment. "They did their best to keep me occupied while you were away. We designed another mech, though I doubt it'll get built. We've also been working on a new flight suit and so many other things. I also did some maintenance on your ship. I hope you don't mind. I didn't do anything weird to it other than modifying the copilot seat to Miradonian specs."

“Of course not, she’s as much yours as mine. And I’m glad they were able to help. They're better at that then they give themselves credit for.” Mnhei’sahe replied with a smile. Then she turned back to Gavarus and O’Dell. While she had developed a habit of being overly stern as the section chief, her recent experiences had left Mnhei'sahe seriously reconsidering how she was to lead others. And at that moment, she couldn't help but grin and let out a slight chuckle at the two oddballs that she similarly couldn't help but like.

Then, the technically-not-on-duty Chief called out, with a chuckle rolling in her voice. “As you were, people. The Captain and Commander are on their way. Let’s look like the professionals we are. Miss MacNielle, I am officially off duty, so see them in. Thank you."

Nodding and smiling, MacNielle replied, "Aye, Chief."

Adjusting her somewhat disheveled uniform top as everyone got back to work as if nothing had ever happened, Mnhei’sahe smiled back at the love she feared she might never see again and whispered. "I think they have everything under control here. What do you say we finally go home?"

"I say that's an inspired idea. Just wait until you see the new curtains." Mona giggled softly as she knew that curtains would be the furthest thing from their minds for quite some time.

As they prepared to board their respective Cyclones, the customized versatile small fighter craft that Mona Gonadie had built as vast improvements over the small Romulan Scorpion class fighter design, Commander Rita Paris paused to eye her captain. Debating her instincts for a second, and only a second, she committed and pressed on.

"Enalia? Before we get back to the Hera... let's talk. It's just you and I and the pirates here, so it seems as good a time as any. Would you mind?" Rita was forthright as always and realized after she'd said it that her phrasing made it sound like a 'trouble in the relationship' talk, although that was far from what she intended. Fortunately, Enalia tended not to pick up on such things, having not led that sort of life for the most part.

Though the spotted woman recognized the tone and was curious about the particular phrasing, she just assumed Rita had something to get off her mind and nodded, her usual lopsided grin on display as she popped the hatch on the blue cyclone and took stock of the interior. "Away from the bustle and prying eyes of Starfleet? Of course. What's on your mind?"

"This..." Rita circled her upraised finger in the air. "This was all very personal. Rendal might have been after Genesis secrets for the Star Empire, but there are other ways to pursue that. No, she kidnapped our two Romulan crew members and hauled them off to break and brainwash them. Her 'apprentice' she said? No, this was very, very personal. She's got an axe to grind with you Captain, and I suspect this isn't the last we've seen of her."

Enalia paused in what she was doing and turned grim, nodding her agreement. "I concur. Everything was too well planned and too well laid out to be simply a member of the Romulan Senate discovering she had a granddaughter and wanting to get her back. She knew my fighting style. She recognized your voice. I'd say she's been planning this at least since the Starbase 336 incursion and she likely had pieces of it in place before then."

"You're right that we'll see more of her. The problem is... Where and how?" Enalia ran one hand along the cockpit seal of the cyclone she would be flying, considering what Rendal's next move would be.

“That’s going to take some work to figure out, and I suspect we’ll likely end up being reactive a few more times until we get enough data to be proactive. But this… this is very personal, and someone on a vendetta is someone to be taken seriously. I’m guessing me giving away her space station and her captive titan likely didn’t set well with her. I wish I had more than that, but… this is a storm on the horizon, cap’n, and I’m afraid it’s going to get worse before it gets better.” Paris shrugged, a seismic motion. “I wish I had more positive in that, but… I’m worried what she might choose as her next target or scheme or plot, if she’s trying to hurt you.”

The unspoken part of the statement was that Enalia had a lot to lose these days, and Paris was concerned that the crew of the Hera might not be able to protect them all. In actuality, she was worried because Enalia had slowly been coming to care much more about those around her, after a lifetime of keeping to herself to protect herself from just such an eventuality. The old-school officer wished she had some good news to bolster her captain, but in this case, all she had were observations and questions.

“We’re headed back to Starfleet command for the debriefings. Ideally, we and the crew should be safe on earth… as much as I know you don’t care to go there. Oh, and given that somehow it turns to chaos every time I set foot on my homeworld. So we need to find a way to get ahead of her… I just have no idea how at this point,” Paris admitted.

The spotted woman nodded thoughtfully. The gears had been turning in her head for some time now and this was as good a time as any to bring up what she'd been thinking on. "I've been considering that. We have a lot more resources than most would in our position, but you're right. We're going to have to be reactionary for a while yet."

"For now, I'll be asking the Artan fleets to monitor for activity while conducting normal smuggling business with the reunificationists. They're normally a good source of intel. Admiral Meowlith has informed me that her ship will be escorting us back to Earth while the Persephone monitors the neutral zone. If we are able to get ahead of her, we will."

"As for the Sol system... The Hera will be staying at Jupiter station and we'll be ferried to our... Debriefing sites." Enalia was convinced they were actually interrogations, but she decided to stick with the wording the admiralty chose to use.

“Yeah, I am SO looking forward to those interrogations,” Paris rolled her eyes and sighed. “At least this time I didn’t screw with time and space, so there’s no reason for the DTI to get involved, unless a future version of me shows up to warn me of the past about something and close a time loop or create a paradox or whatever it might be.” It sounded as though she were joking, but when it came to the life of Rita Paris, she discounted nothing. The universe had proven to her, time and again, that the impossible, in her case, was merely improbable.

“Maybe… maybe we can use this to our advantage, though,” Paris’ eyes roamed the overhead as an idea struck her. “I’m not connected like I was back in the old days, but we do have an awful lot of intelligence we gathered on that trip- ancillary things like traffic patterns and comm traffic and such, which should be a wealth of information to intel Command. Maybe we can parley that for some good will and a bit more of a heads up as the next crisis rears its head?”

Leave it to Rita to think like a fleet politician. Back in her day, the ‘good old boy’ club that comprised the Starfleet brass was a collection of men who knew one another, drank together and shared information and resources with their chums. As most of her old contacts were long gone and their grandchildren were approaching retirement age, she couldn’t move and shake as she once could. But the principles of mutual backscratching still held true in much of the fleet, and this was something which Enalia had no taste for, but at which Rita excelled.

"I've always tried to leave fleet politics to others and just... Ahem..." Enalia actually blushed at what she was about to admit and looked rather sheepish. "There's a group of lesbians in the admiralty... and I leave politics to Admiral Meowlith now that Admiral Johansen is no longer directly on top... ABOVE!"

Her blush deepened and her spots were absolutely burning at this point. "Anyway, Admirals Johansen and t'Chonk used to be who I dealt with before Farenia made Commodore, so I'll leave politics to you. I have a feeling you're better at dealing with the men anyway." Enalia didn't feel that she had to mention that she came from a matriarch dominated offshoot of Trill society after all they had been through.

"Oh, I'm sure I can get along with the ladies in the admiralty as well. I'll see what I can get us for some intel and some maneuvering," Rita added with a smirk of her own. The faces changed and the names, but the games of fleet politics, she suspected, hadn't changed that much since her day. "Meanwhile, how about the Dox's? We're not letting them off the ship, I assume- in this we're agreed? the Lieutenant's terrified this is going to cost her commission, and I'm determined that's not going to happen. If anything, I think it's time we promoted her."

Doing her best to recover from her admissions, Enalia cleared her throat. "I agree on both. Jaeih, we can get away with keeping on the Hera, I think. Lieutenant Dox... She's got requests for debriefings across all of Starfleet now that her ties are known. I've also already filled out the promotion forms and pending the results of the inquiries, I don't see anyone objecting too much. If they do, well..."

As a couple of the Ghost's crew passed by, Enalia got an idea and a grin slowly grew on her face. "Please remind them that the Artan Privateers are now a legitimate government that has offered stability and relative safety in a pirate filled area of space for some time now and would love to open proper negotiations with the Federation."

"I'll keep it in my hand for when I need it, thank you. So, last item on the first officer's checklist- how are you? Through all of this you've run on exhaustion and sleep deprivation and nerves. Now going to Earth, and debriefings and harassment as they try to trip us all up... how are YOU, Enalia?" It was an honest question, and given the circumstances, not an unwarranted one. The captain of the USS Hera tended to take things like her personnel being kidnapped rather personally, and now that it was over, Paris could inquire into her mental and emotional state without having to worry about throwing her off her game.

"Honestly? I feel like I could sleep for a week and I just want to see Maica and Moira again. Do you know when the last time I actually took a break? I mean an actual break to relax? No monitors, no reports, no reading, no emergencies..." The spotted woman stared across the deck out the bay doors for a moment, trying to remember herself. "I can't remember. When my sister passed on, I tried to take a few days off, but... My XO at the time chewed me out and I was forced to..."

She hung her head for a moment and scratched the spots on her temple for a moment before looking back up at Rita. "Once these debriefings are over I'd like to take a couple days off. Just Maica, Moira, and myself reconnecting for a couple days, if you think that's ok."

Draping her arm across the Captain's shoulders, the first officer smiled. "Once this is all done, take a week off on Earth. There are a lot of tropical paradises out there, weather of whatever sort you fancy in a resort or roughing it, your choice. But yes, Captain... you have more than earned a vacation. Go take one. That's an order from your current first officer, hm?" Hugging the woman's shoulder, Rita Paris grinned at the spotted captain.

"Thank you," Enalia replied with a soft and sincere smile that looked almost out of place on the woman's face as she returned the hug. "I haven't been to my castle in the Swiss Alps since the Academy. I think the holographics are compatible with Maica's matrix, so we might just spend time there. Oh, and we have our formal wedding invitations for Schwein's big day waiting on the Hera. Ila said she left outfits for each of us and that we might want to spend some time in the ship's gym."

Shaking her head, Paris raised her hands to the sky. "See? Victim of my own success. I convinced her to chase after a god and finally lie with someone who could take it, and now we're going to be standing at the altar for her. I'm going to miss having that one-eyed pirate around. She really is something special, and I'm happy for her, but... it's selfish, but I'll miss her being on the Hera."

Heaving a sigh, Paris nodded, then ran her fingers through her hair to get it out of her eyes, a movement she performed regularly when it got too long. "But people move on, and she's happy, so I'm happy for her. You said whatsername, Sarika, the one with the foul mouth was going to be taking over the Baroness' position as adjutant?"

"Yeah, I'll miss her too. She's one of my oldest friends and confidants. As for Sarika, I've told her that fleeters tend to take a dim view on crass language like hers so... Hopefully, her time in the brig is minimal." With a heavy sigh, Enalia tucked some stray hair behind her ear. "I should recruit people to my Artan crew so they don't insist on assigning me a full Baroness from my former crew. Sarika has enough on her plate as it is and she's not the most diplomatic."

"I've a suggestion, if you'd care to hear?" Rita remarked as she leaned against the teal hull of Curiosity, folding her arms beneath her improbable bosom. "Why not assign Sarika to recruit you a crew and find you an attache? It needs to be someone who knows your organization inside and out, knows the players involved, the traditions and is familiar with your personal history as well as current events... I got it." Rita's eyes lit up and she snapped her fingers then wagged her index finger.

"What about one of those catgirl holomaids from the Fortress? They're all a hive mind, and they fulfill all of the requirements. And it means the AI that drives them all in the Fortress will get to experience a little bit of life outside the station. Is it feasible? Is it something you'd even want to do? I'm just brainstorming here..." Given to sudden inspirations and instinctual navigation, Rita's plans weren't always gold, but they were usually unconventional.

The spotted woman thought it over, a look of consternation crossing her face as she considered the option. "Their programming is still relatively basic and really only covers security and services right now. I'd have to have their programming expanded quite a bit, at the very least. It's not a bad idea though. I'll see if Maica can pull some strings with her family. Thanks for the idea."

"Either that or put in the order for Sarika to handle it all. A flesh and blood humanoid might avoid some of the problems of a photonic life form, but really, the Baroness' shoes are going to be hard for anyone to fill. So whoever they assign is going to face some challenges. Von Alcott was very well-liked amongst the crew, knew you like a book and her loyalty was unquestionable, as long as she wasn't possessed." Rita rolled her eyes a bit at the memory of that particular affair. "Or if you make the call, we'll work with Sarika and help her acclimate. Just offering ideas, Captain. It's what you pay me for, after all."

"Speaking of which, how is Maica doing with Moira? Is that going well? I assume she can download skills, so that must be handy for a sudden mom..." That was a topic Rita hadn't approached much, as the Captain didn't mention it, so Rita made the effort to respect her commanding officer's privacy. But while she was checking on her, the feisty first officer figured she should cover all the bases.

"Well..." This was a conversation Enalia somewhat feared to discuss and was really worried about. "Like I said before we left the ship, she's got the knowledge of thousands of worlds... But none of the experience... Or maternal instinct... She, ah..."

The spotted woman scratched at the spots on her temple again - they'd been itching since she'd had the prosthetics and makeup removed and the focus on her personal life didn't help any. "When we left she was starting to get the hang of it, but she can't just check the bottle like you or I would, the blankets have to be perfect, every vital sign has to be triple checked and investigated, she has checklists for everything... Half the time when she gets started trying to figure out why Moira is crying, I've already changed her diaper, fed her, and danced around the quarters singing her a lullaby."

"This is nothing new though. When she first arrived, her first few weeks of runtime she could barely cook. She had all the instructions, but simple boiling water surprised her to the point she burnt three pans just watching it and trying to figure it out. She just needs time to learn. Unfortunately, Moira isn't the patient sort." Having admitted all that, Enalia felt a bit relieved. Then she got a bit of her old piratical grin on her face as a thought occurred to her. "With all the newborns on the ship, don't tell me you're feeling in the motherly way too?"

That got her a grin in return. "No, I have my five-year plan, and I am sticking to it. Sonak and I can't conceive without medical intervention, so it's a pretty safe bet it'll be on my timeline. Besides, I can't go getting knocked up. You need me on the Hera, and I promised you I'd be there for you. Once I start with the next generation, I'm going to be Earthbound for a few years at least. So no... while I am all about babies and legacies and making sure Starfleet continues to have Parises in it, for the next few years at least, I'll leave the breeding to everyone else."

"But that doesn't mean I can't help out. You want to drop your little one off for some babysitting so you and Maica can get some time alone or just some peace, I am happy to play Auntie Rita. And for that matter, if Maica needs some help I can try. I mean, I'm no expert, but I did basically raise my little brother Albert, so I have a few practical skills. If it will help you with the adjustment I'm happy to help." Pausing, Rita considered her course, then committed, as she tended to do. "Don't imagine for a moment I am judging- all new parents tend to be a bit adrift, so they tell me, and Moira's a special kid, as is Maica. So what help I can offer, it's there, okay?"

"Thank you, Rita. We both appreciate it. On that note, Maica and I were talking about naming Jaeih as Moira's adopted grandmother. I think she's really come out of her shell and settled down since living a few doors down from you know who." Enalia was, of course, referring to the goddess of motherhood and the namesake of the ship, Hera. "I trust your instincts on this sort of matter, so what are your thoughts on it?"

Frowning, Rita looked up and away for a moment before shaking her head slightly. "Mmmmno, not grandmother- that may be the role she fulfills in your family structure, but at least in my culture, she'd be the Godmother of the child. She is the one you turn to for help, and should anything happen to both of you, she would be the one left to raise her. Again, that's the way it works in my culture, but we're kind of experienced at this patchwork quilt family assembly, you may have noticed."

"But to answer your question, I'm sure it's fine. She's going to be grandma to what, I heard triplets? Does Mona lay eggs, is that how that works? I am dying to ask but I don't want to be insensitive. Point being that she's going to be helping out with three already, so one more into the mix won't hurt. As a bonus, it'll get Moira some early socialization and give Jaeih something to do with her time. She tears through work, so she's often bored I think- this'll cure that in a hurry," Rita laughed musically, then narrowed her eyes at Enalia.

"You're still terrified of screwing this up, aren't you? It's like life handed you your own mother and challenged you to do better, like some great cosmic test, isn't it, and you can't shut up the voice in your head that tells you that you are going to make the same mistakes and create a monster. How'm I doing?" The command team had remained behind for privacy, and Rita was taking advantage of it. They could easily discuss all of this on the Hera, behind closed doors. But here, now, at the end of a long hero's journey was the right time to probe Enalia about one of the things that Rita suspected weighed heavily upon her.

"Logically, I know she'll turn out fine and be herself, but with the history of either being crazy or amazing in my family..." Enalia looked a bit sheepish, finally admitting one of her biggest worries. She'd met the young Moira in the future already, and she knew she'd turn out just fine, but the worry was still there, ever-present in the back of her mind. "Yeah, I think I worry unnecessarily. Godmother... I'll have to do some research since I'm not familiar with the term."

"My culture is nothing if not obsessively cataloged, my friend. C'mon," Rita wrapped an arm around the shoulder of the captain and shook her a bit. "What do you say we get back home to that holographic hottie you married and your bouncing baby girl, and that hearty crew you assembled oh so carefully to serve on your mighty starship of secrets, eh?" That million-watt smile that could light up a room and melt the heart of a glacier beamed from the human explorer, to her friend and captain whom she had come to know, trust and love like a sister in the year they had served together.

"Let's go home, Captain."


Roll credits

In the corridors of Deck 8 of the U.S.S. Hera, the unlikely couple of Ensigns Briaar Gavarus and Fiona O’Dell were up to something.

On the hip of the towering, tubby Tellarite Engineer was the bouncing baby Minotaur the two were actively trying to officially adopt, tiny Minerva Carrot who was grinning and cuddled up to Gavarus’ fairly ample chest making an impossibly adorable, light mooing sound almost like snoring. And walking in front, was the miniature Maraposian test pilot, the red-headed Fiona O’Dell. In each of her hands was a bottle of liquor. In one, a blue-hued bottle of Kali-Fal, also known as ‘Romulan Ale’. And in the other, a bottle of deep, amber Whisky.

In her tiny hands, the normal-sized bottles looked ever larger as Briaar half-whispered down to her partner-in-crime and life. “Do you think this is a good idea, Fee. I mean, if Granny Murder-Punch wanted to see us since coming back on the ship, don’cha think she would have called or something? She was, like, kidnapped for a month! Maybe she just wants to be left alone.”

“Ach, she’s a crabby old lady, ye know that. Left to her own lot she’d joost sit in her quarters and brood and keep mutterin to herself aboot why things aren’t the way they were back in her day. Nae, I’m pretty sure this is joost what the doctor ordered. Besides, we brought along Minnie! Who could say nae to that adorable face, ye?” Spinning as she strolled, O’Dell grinned cheerfully at the babe who, on Gavarus’ hip, was nearer to eye level for O’Dell than she would be on her own. “Aye? Aye, Minnie Moo?”

For her part, Minnie just giggled in reply, a generally expected response from the surprisingly cheerful and good-natured babe.

“So aye, she’ll see us and she’ll come oot. After all, we outrank her, aye? So if push comes to shove we can always order her to come oot to the pub and have a good time wi’ us, like we been doin’.” While she didn’t believe in a heartbeat that the saturnine spy would be moved in the least by an attempted order from either of them, she said it all the same to try to boost Gavarus’ morale, as despite the fact that the duo, now a trio, had forcibly befriended the reluctant Romulan, both retained a healthy fear of the imperious woman as well. Forcing their company upon her when it might be unwelcome was a dangerous proposition. But they did have Minnie as a secret weapon should things go sour in negotiation.

Looking at the giggling babe on her hip, Gavarus smiled nervously, but relented to Fiona’s logic in the scenario, as she generally did. Arriving at the door, Gavarus pulled the tiny tot up and held her towards the pad outside the door. “You wanna push the button, Minnie Moo? It’s the big one at the bottom.”

Reaching forward, Minnie giggled and pressed every button at once, but it had the desired effect.
---------------

In the overly spacious VIP quarters that Jaeih Dox was still assigned to, the slightly older Rihannsu woman was somewhat happy that her room was as big as it was for the first time since coming aboard the Hera.

The former Tal’Shiar operative, former prisoner of the Romulan Government and Starfleet Intelligence and current Civilian intel asset in service to Captain Telvan and the Hera was glad to net feel so closed in on the ship. The large windows and space helped her mitigate the claustrophobia she had been dealing with during her captivity on the Romulan Warbird she and her Daughter had been trapped on for weeks.

Of course, the room was still fairly bare with almost no personal touches. No private effects, pictures or keepsakes lined the walls. The room looked exactly the same as it did when she was first assigned it. And at the moment, Jaeih was struggling to keep busy in the large room... by cleaning it.

Her daughter was spending some much needed private time with her wife and Jaeih didn’t want to impose on the couple with her needs. But needs, she did have. Jaeih was a generally private individual who tended to keep to herself and tended to shun social interaction with a trademark mix of contempt and sarcasm. But most of that was a well-cultivated facade designed to avoid interpersonal relationships that might encumber her as an intelligence operative. Old training that had protected her emotionally over the years.

But, much like the spartan and cold way in which she had chosen to raise her daughter, Jaeih was making a conscious effort to change those old habits. But this one was harder than not. She wanted to be around people. She wanted to talk to someone and not be alone or isolated anymore. But she didn’t quite know how to instigate such behavior and she had precious few people she would call friends on the Hera. Few, but not none.

Which is when, while she was moving the small couch to the other side of the room for something to do, her door chime went off. Seven times as if the buttons were all mashed at once. Immediately, she straightened up, adjusted the gray Starfleet intel uniform top she wore and went to the door with a bit more enthusiasm than was usual for her. Once at the door, she secured the cold, disdainful expression she wore as a near-permanent mask and pressed the button to open the door.

On the other side, were the two people that were, perhaps the most unlikely to consider friends: The ships resident troublemakers and drunks, O’Dell and Gavarus.

And a cow baby. All three grinning exaggeratedly.

Raising her eyebrow quizzically, she replied sarcastically. “Oh, this should be interesting, What can I do for you… ‘ladies’?”

Looking up and down the hall in an exaggerated fashion, O’Dell finished by looking up at the dour-faced Romulan woman. “Ladies? Nobody here but us, mum. We’ve come to drag ye oot to the pub, Mrs. Dox! To celebrate yuir triumphant return to the Hera and to make people nervous while we drink to yuir health and long life, eh?” Smiling up at the silent stone face that regarded her like a lab specimen, O’Dell held up the bottles she carried in each hand. “We managed to lay our hands on some of the blue stuff ye like, as well as some right proper 12 year old single malt from me own home planet, O’Dell’s Own. Tis me granddad what distills it, and I thought ye might like something other than yuir usual.”

At the seemingly cold and unblinking stare they received, as O’Dell grinned nervously as she blinked, wondering if she had made a terrible mistake. At that, Gavarus held out Minnie like a shield. “Don’t hurt us. We brought a baby, and you don’t want to traumatize her.”

For her part, Minnie made big brown cow eyes at the middle-aged Romulan intel asset, fluttering her lashes slowly as she investigated whether she could fit her entire fist in her mouth.

Looking at the fuzzy curiosity, then at the nervous pair of misfits, Jaeih rolled her eyes and shook her head. In truth, she had found that she inexplicably missed these two and welcomed their visit. But she also had no intention of saying as much in the moment. After all, she had a reputation as a curmudgeonly old woman who didn't like anyone, and she intended to maintain that. "And, I suppose if I want to find out what the undoubtedly ridiculous story is as to why you two are carrying a... what kind of baby is this?... I have to acquiesce to your request?"

There was only the briefest of pauses before O’Dell seized the opportunity presented to her. “Aye! That ye do! We’ll promise to tell ye the whole story, but ye have to come oot to the pub and drink with us!” Emboldened by her success, O’Dell lowered her voice to a conspiratorial tone. “Minerva here is a minotaur, but we dinna want her to grow oop thinking she’s any different than anyone else, so please dinna make her self conscious, aye?”

Said the midget standing next to her partner the giant space swine, as she spoke to a Romulan about their baby minotaur.

"Oh, Elements forbid I do that." Jaeih replied sarcastically as she raised a finger up, curiously to the fuzzy enigma. And Minnie being Minnie, she immediately reached out with her grabby hands, tightened her grip around the offered finger and pulled it in to begin gumming it adorably, her big brown eyes never falling away from Jaeih's.

"Well... she's... certainly strong, isn't she? Yes. Very good. May I have my finger back? Thank you." Jaeih smirked ever so slightly as she pulled back her now slobber covered finger that she held up and looked at with a faintly dismissive air. Then, without missing a beat, she reached over and rubbed it dry on Gavarus' sleeve and raised her eyebrow. "Very well. I suppose I have no choice. Lead the way."

"Aw, c'mon! Really?!" Gavarus griped as Jaeih simply arced her eyebrows, smirked and stepped out of her quarters with them.

"S'nothin ye's not had her dribble on ye afore, Briaar," O'Dell dismissed as she fetched out a wipe and dried off the drool, smoothly depositing the wipe back in the diaper bag with a surprisingly practiced ease.

The trip through the ship’s corridors and down the turbolift was, for the most part, uneventful and passed in silence, save for the occasional gurgle or raspberry from Minnie. O’Dell wasn’t going to press the Romulan woman to talk until they had some privacy and a drink or two in her, and Mrs. Dox’s capacity for silence was a given. The hard part was getting her to try to talk, after all.
But once they entered 10-Forward, to the collected groans and eyerolls of the staff, O’Dell navigated across the floor to a booth near the viewports, with the back to the wall. It was a favorite of Mrs. Dox, where she could observe the lounge while having her back to a wall, and while the odd couple preferred to sit closer to the bar, today they needed to make their returned renegade comfortable, so they would sit in ‘her’ booth.

Setting the two bottles on the table, O’Dell held up one finger, then bounced back across the lounge to the bar, to fetch a few tumblers for their liquor and to order a warm bottle of milk for Minnie as well as some appetizers for the lot of them. After all, drinking on an empty stomach disagreed with her partner in crime, as did just an empty stomach. While ordinarily, they were legendary for their harassment of the wait staff, today was a bit different, and there would be opportunity aplenty for that.

Returning to the table, O’Dell unloaded the tray with the trio of tumblers, then hopped up into the booth to stand on the bench seating and open the bottle of whiskey, the brand she’d known literally all her life. Inhaling the scent that smelled like her childhood, she expertly poured two fingers for Mrs. Dox, two for Gavarus and one finger for herself, as she was in all ways a lightweight. Passing them out, she eyes Minnie. “You’ll get yours when we get yuir bottle, little one, aye? Dinna ye worry, yuir mums aren’t forgettin aboot ye, aye?”

"So, we've now brought a baby to a bar. There must be a special level of Areinnye for that." Jaeih rolled her eyes as she picked up her tumbler of whiskey, holding it up to examine it visually, then giving it a light sniff. "And you say this is your own family distillery. Consider me intrigued."

Taking a light sip, Jaeih rolled it around in her mouth before swallowing. "Hmmm. Sweet. Strong enough." As she spoke, she downed the rest and put the tumbler back on the table, empty. "Miss O'Dell, were it illegal, I'd smuggle it."

“Pshaw. Me da was bringin’ me to the pub when I was still in diapers, and I turned oot joost foine,” O’Dell defended, taking a tiny sip and savoring the flavor. As the lightweight of the group, she had to be careful about her intake, otherwise she’d be passed out and Briaar Gavarus would have to carry both her and Minerva home. “But I’ll take the compliment. Tis aged in oaken barrels and distilled the old fashioned way, so it doesnae have that artificial taste ye get from the synthetics. O’course, in my family they do joost aboot everything the old-fashioned way, so take that for what it’s worth.”

Pouring another glass for the Romulan, this time O’Dell made it a double. While she was dying of curiosity to know what had happened and to hear the story, she recognized when someone was in the mood to get properly drunk before their tale was told, and she suspected that was the case tonight.

“How about ye, Briaar? D’ye like it, or would ye rather stick to beer?” O’Dell asked solicitously. The Tellarite had quite the snout for a good beer, and whisky was seldom her drink of choice. But tonight was an occasion, she had offered the strong stuff, but was, of course, willing to accommodate her porcine partner.

Slamming her glass back, Gavarus knocked it off easily and presented her glass for a refill. "Hey, we're drinkin' the fancy shit tonight, so I'm in. Hit me." As she did, she turned to the bard and shouted, "C'mon! Where's the baby's @#$%ing BOTTLE?! What the hell, people? Don't make me feed her one of your slow asses."

Then the portly porcine turned towards Jaeih and whispered. "We actually got a book on it, and she doesn't eat people. Totally vegetarian, like me. But they don't know that." Then she leaned over to look at Minnie, who she was bouncing on her knee, "No you don't, do you? You don't eat slow ass servers, do you, Minnie Moo? No, you don't!"

As the bobbing bovine babe giggled on Gavarus' knee, Jaeih took another sip of her offered Whiskey and cricked an eyebrow. "So, I am here and drinking as agreed. How long do I need to wait to hear how you two now have a baby that is... clearly neither of your respective species? I wasn't gone THAT long."

“I reproduce asexually,” O’Dell deadpanned, to which Jaeih simply rolled her eyes and chuckled.

"Frankly, I wouldn't be surprised, my dear. Nor would I want to ever know the specifics for either of your proclivities or techniques. Still, neither of you has horns, so there's certainly more to this story, I'm sure." Jaeih said as she turned to Gavarus and held out her hands towards the giggling tot, saying nothing. As she did, little Minnie tilted her head and cooed slightly as she looked up, first and Gavarus and the back to Jaeih as she started bouncing in place with excitement. 

For her part, the two-meter tall Tellarite looked extremely nervous about letting go of the baby, but scrunched her face as she slowly handed the child over to their unorthodox drinking partner. "Just... just be careful. She likes to grab hair and stuff and... and her head is... with the horns, she's heavier than she looks and..."

"Really, Miss Gavarus. My daughter is your supervisor. I've held children before." Jaeih said as she took the furry little bundle into her arms. Looking down at the child, Minnie looked up and she reached slowly up to touch Jaeih's pointed ears inquisitively, still lightly cooing as the server finally brought over the bottle and the ordered appetizers. Grabbing the bottle, Jaeih gently squirted it on her wrist and then handed it to Minnie, who grabbed it and began drinking.

In a display that was positively bizarre to Gavarus and O'Dell, Jaeih was positively gentle as she leaned over and whispered to the baby and lightly rubbed her back, "Slowly, little one."

As little Minnie had her bottle, Jaeih looked at the ordered food, "So, what did you procure for us Ensign O'Dell?"

"Joost some pretzels and popcorn and potstickers and bread and jam..." O'Dell trailed off, somehow perplexed by the maternal display of the prickly provocateur, as she and Gavarus both stared a bit slack-jawed until O'Dell's brain could catch back up again. "Wee Minerva was born to a gel here on the Hera, who didn't make it through the birth. The, ah, horns, methinks. Truth be told I've nivvir known and ne'er cared to ask. I suppose it's all in her medical records, but... we're nae that curious."

"Our flight doc, Mr. Carrott- with two t's, though god only knows why. Mebbe it means somethin' else on his world. But he and his wife... Amy?" The sprightly test pilot secured a pretzel and jammed it as the rough engineer, nodded. "They took her in for all of a boot a week, and we were at her bebe shower when her water broke, and it was on to the delivery room. In all the excitement, they joost kind of left her with us. We both come from big families, so, " Fiona O'Dell shrugged her narrow shoulders and pointed to the gold and black Starfleet engineer toolbag that serves as their diaper bag.

"I canna explain it... cept apparently I can. See, there's this... izzat classified? Is't classified to her since she's intel? Did innybody warn ye twas top secret? Izzat a defense that holds up at a court martial? Eh, foogit." O'Dell finished talking to herself as Gavarus kept preparing to answer, then made her decision and throttled forward.

"So there's a woman onboard, an alien, but one of the old an' powerful ones, aye? Wi' abilities and rot what look like magic to the likes of us. Ye ken?" In her own way, as her brogue deepened with the explanation, O'Dell was testing the waters to see if the pointy-eared dam would believe her before proceeding with the story. Taking a sip of her whiskey, the emerald eyes of the leprechaun sought the dark brown eyes of the spy soon to be grandmother.

"Officially, no. I don't know about the being classified as a 'goddess' two doors down from my quarters. But I listen and I pay attention and I am fairly good at connecting dots when most of the dots are missing, Miss O'Dell, so you've betrayed nothing, nor will there be any Court Martials." Jaeih slowly held Minnie up and handed her back to Briaar as she was still sucking down on her bottle with a knowing smile. 

"So this alien being is somehow connected to the little one, then?  And the two of you have become, well, you referred to yourselves as her 'mums' earlier, so I take it you feel quite attached based on both of your body language cues when I was holding her. Ensign Gavarus' ears twitch with every sound she makes. The custom diaper bag. You, Ensign O'Dell, watched me to see if I twitched when I tested the temperature of the bottle." The observant operative picked up a pretzel and took a bite after she finished speaking.

"Aye, well... the we little thing was apparently a bit much for Carrott and his bride, so they both took LOA as soon as she went into labor, and they've nae been heard from since. So we're plannin... I mean, basically we have to secure the rights, but aye. In an odd way we make a family, and.. well, I mean lookit her. She literally is magically adorable. I dinna think we had a lot of choice. But we dinna mind." O'Dell leaned in, beaming a happy smile at the suckling infant. "Nae we dinna, because yuir the cutest wee beastie ever. Ay, and ye know it too, doonchye? Aye?"

For her part Minerva tried to giggle, then coughed on her milk as some went down the wrong pipe. Gavarus had her in one hand, patting her back with the other as O'Dell smoothly got a blanket in place on the table beneath them for the baby to cough and sputter and puke up a bit of milk. As one cleaned the table, the other cleaned the baby, and within a few seconds the baby was back in the crook of Gavarus arms, calm and breathing evenly again, as she sneezed, then made grabby hands for the bottle again. The blanket went into a sealed bag that vacusealed the air out, deodorizing as it did so. Then O'Dell wiped the table clean with a sterility wipe, and business continued as usual.

It was, in concert and in practice, as if both of them had been doing it for years. And watching the display of uncanny parenting skills, suddenly Jaeih felt somewhat embarrassed that she had all but bragged about her own abilities with children that clearly paled next to the two attentive Ensigns, especially when she considered how damaged her own daughter had turned out.

But she masked that reaction with practiced skill, as she reached over and unstopped the bottle of blue liquor then poured herself a full three fingers in her tumbler. Ultimately, the Rihannsu woman was quite observant, so it hadn't escaped her notice that the unorthodox couple had been attempting to get her to come out of her carefully cultivated shell and talk about what had happened to her over the past month. And while she genuinely, if inexplicably, liked the two young women, her natural inclination was to not want to dive into her own feelings too deeply.

Of course, she also knew a solid technique for deadening such feelings and it was in the glass in front of her.

All this was running through her head as she downed the tumbler of Kali-Fal quickly. Noticiably quickly, in point of fact. As the liquor hit her throat, even the seasoned drinker hissed slightly and knitted her eyebrows as it went down harshly. "I shall let you two in on a galactic secret. Know that whole cultures will collapse if you reveal this to another living soul."

Speaking with a false air of intrigue, she leaned in and poured herself another glass. "Nobody actually enjoys Romulan Ale. As with at least one hard liquor in almost every culture, we start drinking it when we are younger... to prove we can." She gasped again as she slammed the next drink down just as quickly, outpacing even the ship's resident drunks.

The odd couple eyed one another at the display, then O'Dell spoke up, as the more vocal of the two, in a quiet voice. "Mum, ye dinna have to impress us. We know ye kin hold yuir liquor. We joost... we were worried about ye, and we're glad to see ye back is all. And we know ye dinna... er, ye dinna like people much, but ye put oop with us, so... we joost wanted to get ye oot was all, to relax and have a laugh or two. Have some of me good scotch and some of that sour stuff ye, well, okay, galactic secret and all, but we thought ye liked it."

"We joost wanted yuir company, to introduce ye to Minerva, and to get ye oot of... well, bein all by yuirself."

The small-statured sprite braced herself, because after enough liquor to drop an 18 stone grown man, the woman was likely to get defensive, as drunks do. Having grown up around them literally all her life, Fiona O'Dell understood drunks, so she was prepared for a defensive outburst, and prepared herself for it.

Looking at the empty glass, Jaeih refilled it with the caustic blue liquid and eyed it attentively. "Well, addendum. I suppose it's more accurate to say that we learn to like it. Or at least become... comfortable with it. But that's neither here nor there."

As it turned out, Jaeih Dox wasn't all that defensive of a drunk. She seemed to be a maudlin, introspective drunk, as she took a more measured sip of her drink. "But you're correct. I find I don't much like people. People are judgmental, backstabbing, agenda-driven creatures. They look upon others as means to their own ends, and think little of how that affects those they choose to manipulate. I know, we can smell our own."

"You two.... you're terrible at that. You wear your agendas on your proverbial sleeves and don't bother with those kinds of people. You hold them in open contempt, more often than not, in fact. Except for me. For some reason, you bother with me and it... confounds me." Jaeih never quite looked at them as she spoke, instead looking at her glass as she took another sip. "You really shouldn't. I am a horrible creature, in truth."

Holding Minnie, Gavarus looked legitimately confused as she knitted her eyebrows and looked over to Fiona, then back to Jaeih and blurted out, "Bullshit. Right Fee?"

There was a narrowing of the eyes, and a long few seconds of silence before the reply was put forth by the midget Mariposan. “Back home, me Aunt Danilla was a vurrah antisocial woman. Cross, stern, a sharp tongue in her head, and she was bitter over a man what loved and left her years agone. She’d nae suffer fools gladly, and she’d no time for frivolity. All she really craved was to be left alone, and so for the most part she was obliged.”

“On her deathbed, I took me turn, because I was wee and relegated to nursing when it was needed- women’s work. Aye, aye, I know, dinna judge me family,” O’Dell acknowledged the casual sexism even as she dismissed it. “When she woke, she spoke to me, and she opened up, after all those years, and she was honest with me. She told me the people who push everyone else away are the ones who want people to try harder, to prove to ‘em that they are still valued, that thir prickliness is easy to overcome if innyone bothered to try. She told me she regretted living alone, because it was a lonely life she’d chosen, and that she wished she’d nae worked s’hard to poosh everyone away.”

“There on her deathbed she made me swear I’d see such things and not stand for it. Briar here,” O’Dell paused to shoulder nudge her bosom buddy, “she’s like that. She pushes folks away before they can reject her, and she’s a bit like me old Auntie. But ye coulda given her lessons.” At that, the brave little Bringloidi took another sip of her whiskey to bolster her courage, and at a nod from Gavarus, she pressed on.

“Yuir smarter than most, ye dinna like most people… but ye dinna want to be alone. I dinna know how ye got here nor what yuir life has been like to get ye here, nor even what ye went through when ye were nae onboard the last month. But I know yuir nae a bad person," the daredevil damsel explained, shaking her mop of crimson curls. "Ye’ve had plenty of chance to get both of us drummed up on charges or at the least in trouble with the Lieutenant. But ye dinna. Because at least wi’ us ye know yuir in the company of fools, but we like yuir crabbiness and yuir sarcasm and yuir poor opinion of most, because we understand alla that.”

“Not likin yuirself we get- I mean, lookit us, we’re not normal by any measure, and we dinna fit in, e’en with our own kind. But we like each other joost fine, and we like ye too. So maybe dinna be so quick to call yuirself a horrible creature, mum. Because if ye are, that makes us worse, and we’re tryin’ ta be better. For the little one, aye?” Reaching over, O’Dell’s small pale hand delicately stroked the furry cheek of the suckling infant monster.

"In short, as me mate says, s'bullshit, mum." Leaning back in her seat a bit, O'Dell braced for whatever might come, partially hiding behind Gavarus and the baby.

Swirling her drink in her hand, Jaeih looked at the pair of miscreants that she was bizarrely fond of. She looked at the miniature minotaur still gripping her bottle tight and going to town on it, as babies were wont to do and thought about how clear it was just how in love with her those two were. And looking at that all, she felt a rush of shame over her own failures. Shame and fear, considering that she had three grandchildren on the way.

Part of her wanted to lash out, in truth. Tell the two women offering their hands in friendship of all the lives she had taken. All the blood on her hands. In just the last month, she had brutally killed 5 of her own people to try and resist capture and then escape it. But as she looked at their faces, she realized that while they might be irascible, they were also innocent and she refused to unburden herself at the cost of putting that burden on them.

"Trying to be better." Jaeih said as she sipped her drink, forcing out the slightest of smiles for their benefit. "That is what Mona... your chief... tells me I am trying to be. I do not know if I always agree with her. But I'd like to think there's some truth to it, if only because I don't think that dear woman is capable of lying."

"The chief don't lie. If SHE likes you and we like you and, heck, Minnie Moo here likes you cuz' she let you hold her without making a fuss... and that is a BIG deal if we told you some of the stories we got from the day we let daycare watch her.... then that... like... that frickin' means something, right?" Gavarus said, rocking the tiny tot gently as she finished her bottle, letting out a long and disturbingly deep burp as she did, followed by a string of gurgling giggles.

“Aye!” O’Dell added enthusiastically. “Ye may ha’been a lot of things. But what matters to us is the here and noow. And ye covered for us when we needed to move the Chief. Ye came oot with us for shenanigans. Yuir a rum sort, e’en if ye dinna believe it. And… okay, I’ll admit I am curious what happened and why yuir so… whativvir ye are after it. But that’s yuir tale, not ours. Us, we’re joost happy to have a night in the pub wi’ our friend again, and to introduce our wee sidekick, aye?” O’Dell bit off the end of the statement, partially because she was prepared for the tart-tongued old spy to deny it and try to rain on their parade.

In truth, while she was generally bold, Jaeih Dox scared O’Dell, for reasons she could not put her finger on, so she always tempered her brash nature a bit around the soon-to-be grandmother. But she worked at hiding it, because she had balked more than a few times with Gavarus until she’d learned how much it hurt the woman not to be trusted. So O’Dell was working on overcoming that tendency with people, and she liked the cranky old Romulan, who seemed much more morose than usual tonight.

"Your sidekick is appropriately adorable, and..." Jaeih took a moment and lightly rolled her eyes, "And I thank you... for your concern and your interest. I... appreciate it." The statement was terse and more than a little stiffly stated, but it was clear that saying so was a minor effort for the woman.

"Regarding this last month... much of the details are still classified. My daughter and I will need to be taken to Earth for debriefing with Starfleet intelligence where our... futures... will be determined." Jaeih leaned forward with a more hushed tone. "In truth, that was likely more than I should have said, but in truth, I also don't care as much. I cannot divulge the specifics of our... absence. I can tell you that you likely do not want to know those specifics even if I were at liberty to tell you."

“It’s alreet, mum. Ye dinna have ta tell us. We’re joost glad to see ye back, aye?” O’Dell leaned back in and smiled, a genuine expression from a woman whose life was spent being just that. In both their cases, the misfits of the R&D department were nothing if not genuine, to the point of hindering their careers. “So, I hear tell that MacNeille’s got herself a beau, hmm? So who do ye figure is putting it to the brown-noser?”

Taking a sip, and barely taking a moment to think, the intel agent with the eidetic memory replied flatly over her drink. "Jones, is his name. Ignatious Jones... science department."

"THAT Asshole!?! What the @#$%!!" Gavarus yelled a little louder with a shocked look on his face. "He tried hitting on Fee a few months ago and... wait, how the hell do you know that?"

Refilling her tumbler and taking another pretzel, Jaeih raised an eyebrow and grinned like a cat with a canary in her maw. "I'm an intelligence operative and I tend to hover around my daughter's department for lunch with either her or Mona. Not that I heard that from my Daughter-in-Law or anything while we were catching up earlier, nor did you hear it from me."

“I'll be damned. Our lips’re sealed, outside this table and in our quarters,” O’Dell agreed easily. “So what other stylish gossip have ye got, She Who Was Off The Ship For A Month yet Allays Seems To Know More Than us?”

Taking another drink, Jaeih put her glass down and pondered for a second. Then, she reached over and gently gestured for little Minnie. Hesitantly, but a little less so this time, Gavarus handed the gurgling baby over to their unexpected drinking buddy. 

Cradling the furry newborn in her arms and looking down at her, Jaeih thought long about the future. Her future, their future, her grandchildren on the way, and decided that she wanted that future to be a better one. And a part of that was being a better woman herself. "Well... I do have a good degree of catching up to do, but when I was in sickbay getting cleared to come back aboard, there was a nurse... a Lurian woman who would not stop talking that mentioned that you, Miss Gavarus, had vomited inside a space suit after suffering a bout of radiation sickness?"

Raising her eyebrow at the portly porcine engineer, who blushed slightly as she took a swig of Whiskey and chuckled nervously. "Well... we were racing after you and the engines were fit to blow up the Captain had us pushing them so hard. So Me, Whatshisface... the Vulcan dude... Mister Commander Thunder-Rack, and the chief engineer were trying to keep it in one piece. So..."

As Gavarus unfolded and relayed her story, there was a legitimate smile on the Romulan woman's face as she cradled a small piece of the future in her arms. relaxing despite herself, she chatted and mocked and chuckled with her unusual, unexpected friends.

In all, she reflected, it was very good to be home.

Relieved of duty, Lieutenant Mnhei’sahe Dox had precious little to do while the Hera warped back to the Sol System for her multiple debriefings, counseling sessions and competency hearings on Earth with Starfleet Intelligence. As it turns out, having been kidnapped by the Romulan Tal’Shiar and your Senator Grandmother and subjected to indoctrination techniques, advanced mind-control technology and multiple attempts to get you to switch sides from the Federation to one’s own people makes fleet command reluctant to let you function again on a highly classified Intelligence ship without a certain degree of vetting. And so vetted she was to be.

But it would be days before the Hera would arrive in Sector 001 so she could be properly grilled, and that Meant even more down-time for the frustrated young pilot who wanted little more than to bury herself in her work and not think about her month of captivity. But Starfleet knew best, so Mnhei’sahe had little to do but cool her proverbial heels.

Her first two days on the Hera had been wonderful. The Captain had allowed her wife and bond-mate, Ensign Mona Gonadie to take some personal time in order to allow the two to reconnect and spend some much needed time alone, together. And it was all Mnhei’sahe needed and more. Their telepathic bond when touching allowed the young Rihannsu pilot to get the first REAL night of good, restful sleep, free of bad dreams or lingering memories in over a month. It was a good night and a wonderful day just reconnecting and talking.

But today, Mona was back on duty, managing what was normally Dox’s own assignment as Chief of the Flight Control Department. The embattled Lieutenant simply wanted to get back to work, but that wasn’t an option for the indefinite future as her career was on pause for the time being, but she wasn’t under guard and could still go wherever she’d like on the ship freely, save any off-limits facilities. Like her own office.

So she sat in her quarters, reading whatever ship’s news was not directly classified and sipping on a tart, bitter black Rihannsu coffee she preferred called brhon caelis. She was in full uniform out of both habit and a desire to feel more at home. More like the Starfleet officer she was, in spite of her current status. And she was trying to not dwell in her own thoughts. She could go to Ten-Forward or the Holodecks or visit with friends, but it was Alpha shift, and her friends were largely all on duty at the moment and her mother was nursing an actual hangover after a night of heavy drinking and frivolity. So her friends were largely all indisposed.

All except one. The one friend that she knew she wanted… needed… to talk to the most. The one friend that had been able to come to her during her captivity, if only for an instant to fulfill a promise made months ago. The friend that stayed in cabin 13 of the VIP quarters on the same deck she called home. The woman known by many names. Azrael. Rider of the Pale Horse. Masato Rei.

Death.

Perhaps the most unusual friendship Mnhei’sahe had curated in her time on the Hera, the woman who, in life sixteen hundred years ago as a young Japanese woman, was named Masato Rei. And that was what Mnhei’sahe called her. True names were important to the young woman who didn’t learn her own real name until a year ago, and she felt it was a matter of respect. But there was more that was needed to be said, so Mnhei’sahe put down her PaDD, put on the pair of thin black gloves she wore whenever she went to visit Rei so they could touch safely, (as skin-on-skin contact with the entity that was the embodiment of Death was bad for one's health.) and went to the ship's Officer’s Galley.

Even removed from duty, she was still a senior officer, so that privilege was still available to her and she took advantage of it to procure a tray of fresh-made sushi and a bag of something extra as well. She knew Rei loved Sushi and it was the first meal the two had shared, so it seemed apropos.

And after a brief wait, Mnhei’sahe was at the sealed door to Rei’s VIP Quarters. Due to the unique nature of their friendship and the fact that She was one of only a few officers allowed to visit, those privileges had not been removed, and after giving her access codes and making pleasantries with her two guards, Mnhei’sahe stepped into the room's foyer and introduced herself.

“Rei. It’s Mnhei’sahe. Are you available?” She asked, with a touch of nervousness in her voice.

For a moment there was naught but silence, the entity known as Death apparently out for one reason or another, but then from a suddenly shadowy corner of the room Taxes, with Rei mounted atop, came gliding in like a ghostly visage with no hooves as was common to the pale horse.

"Mnhei'sahe! It's lovely to see you hale and hearty and still among the living!" Rei exclaimed as she dismounted and rummaged through her saddlebags, Taxes giving a friendly snort as well at the Rihanna woman. "I honestly didn't expect to see you again for many years, if I'm to be honest, but here you are."

While Mnhei’sahe had admitted a slight bit of fear around horses, she was beginning to warm to Rei’s spectral mount, Taxes, who was always a little bit more friendly than not with the young woman. In fact, Taxes was so friendly with her that Dox wondered if he could tell she was nervous around horses and wanted to help her get over it. Either way, hanging off her arm was a bag she had also procured from the ship's galley, just for the ethereal equine.

But as she stepped over to the table to lay down the tray of Sushi, keeping a hold of the bag, Mnhei’sahe’s expression changed to one of slight confusion. “Yes, I’m… Wait... what do you mean, several years?”

As she spoke, she stepped over and pulled an apple out of the bag and presented it, admittedly anxiously, to Taxes.

As Taxes gently nibbled at the apple and flicked his ears in appreciation, Rei pulled out several small leather-bound books and set them on the table. "Ah... Your planned fate was to be left behind while your mother escaped. By the time you made it back to this part of the galaxy..." She looked a bit sheepish as she admitted this.

"But those three fatebreakers from other universes pulled through and made a lot of extra paperwork for those of us that have to deal with such things and... here you are." Though it was obvious Rei was happy her friend was here, it also looked as though she had been putting in extra hours, if such a thing were possible.

The words hit Mnhei’sahe like a punch in the gut as she all but dropped the bag of apples and turned to the table where Rei had put the books. For months, she had known about the vaguely worded prophetic statements from both Rei herself and Mnhei’sahe’s android niece, Kodria, from the future. The warnings to appreciate the time she would have left with her mother as that time was to be limited. And for all this time, knowing that the rules that governed Rei had prohibited her from saying anything more back then, she had assumed the message was a warning that her mother, Jaeih, was going to die. Now she knew that she had completely misinterpreted that statement.

As she processed it, Mnhei’sahe’s face went pale and she simply stood there blinking for a moment until Taxes stepped silently up behind her and gently nudged the side of her face with his large snout, snapping her out of her moment. “Huh..." She muttered as she caught back up with reality.

Smiling awkwardly, she gave Taxes another apple from the bag as she looked at her friend. “I wasn’t… I wasn’t supposed to be rescued? I… I was going to be left behind. That was how I was going to lose her… Nouhha tlhei.”

As Mnhei’sahe spoke, the accent that she had spent years learning how to cover up slipped back out, something she was having difficulty with since her rescue as she trailed off, saying ‘oh my god’ in her native Rihan.

“And… you couldn’t say anything more, could you? You knew... but even saying what you did… it was bending the rules, wasn’t it?” Mnhei’sahe said, as an acknowledgment of how difficult it must have been for her friend to not say more until now.

"Yeah. And now that that's changed and I have schedules to modify and deaths to replan and reschedule. Not to mention the Fates and the White Rabbit have their plates full now..." Rei sighed heavily as she unsealed the first book and what looked like a ghostly visage floated up and out of it for just a moment before she pulled out a quilt and started scribbling in it. "Is that sushi? please tell me there's some eel in there. I haven't eaten since your wife stopped by."

“Uh... yes. Yeah, Mona mentioned she had come by. Uh... Yes. There should be a full roll of Eel.” Mnhei’sahe replied, removing the top and placing Rei’s chopsticks in front of her and pouring two cups of hot tea that had been on the tray. Then, in an entirely characteristic display of her ability to somehow feel guilty for almost everything, Mnhei’sahe dropped her head slightly. “I’m… sorry that I gave you more paperwork. Probably not something I can help with, all things considered.”

There was the slightest of chuckles at the last statement as she realized how absurd she was being. “So… The White Rabbit. She said she was a friend of yours. Honestly, I wasn’t sure that was even real or if I had hallucinated that. Although, when I gave my briefing, the Captain said she had met the Rabbit as well once.”

"I'm sure you hallucinated a fair bit, but she was real. So was I." Rei then slid one of the books over in front of Dox before picking up her chopsticks to dig into the sushi. "Oh, that's divine... You can actually help me by looking up prior fates so I can re-plan them. There's no harm in you knowing what would have been and it's not like I'm going to tell you what's going to happen now, after all. On page... Gemma falco nine... Colony New Krun'chi, if you don't mind."

As Mnhei’she looked at the small, leather book that seemed quite ancient and slowly opened it to the page she was told to, she looked back up to her friend as she thought about everything that she had said. And everything that she had seen during her captivity. “Rei…” Mnhei’sahe said gently. “For that… I can’t thank you enough. For letting me see my father again after... after Rendal killed him. For letting me know that you were there for him. It… it meant more than I think I can say in words. Thank you.”

"You're welcome. His vision of Al'thindor and you at the end, I think gave him some measure of peace as he crossed over at the very least." As Rei scribbled in her current notebook, she snagged another piece of sushi and munched on it thoughtfully before taking a sip of her tea. "Do you know why I'm bending rules with you?"

It was something that the young woman had all but avoided thinking about. As Mnhei’sahe looked up, she reached into the bag and held up another apple by the side of her head where she knew Taxes had been all but camped out as she stalled in her reply. As the spectral horse took the apple gently, Mnhei’sahe shook her head slightly, “No. I… I don’t. I've been appreciative... but I didn’t think it was my place to ask.”

"Well, there are six of us... And it's hard to retire out of a job like this, as you can imagine. I'm by far the youngest and my predecessor didn't last near as long as I have. The other five... Some of them have been in their positions since this universe was born..." The pale woman's words trailed off as she paused in her writing and she grabbed another piece of sushi, leaning back in her chair.

“The White Rabbit had mentioned something about there being others, but…” Mnhei’sahe said, recalling her encounter with the other cosmic being that had chosen to also help her for no defined reason other than her friendship with the pale woman sitting across from her. But as she spoke, the weight of what Rei might be implying began to sink in as she slipped between languages without thinking. “Wait… predecessor? Retire? Rhanne na docgae… I don’t… understand.”

"You're being recruited for another role in your next life," Rei said plainly as she sipped at her tea. "The decision is ultimately yours, but you are one of very few that have been found... compatible."

Her eyes went wide for a moment as all of their conversations over the past year had begun to fill in. The woman who was sitting across from her, looking at her rather casually, had bent the rules for her. Refused to take her life at least once when she otherwise would have died. Let her see her father after he had been killed. Told her how many grandchildren she was supposed to have. How long she was expected to live. Rei had told her seemingly countless random rules for her station in casual conversation. And now she was letting Mnhei’sahe read from her books. All of it started to add up, and more.

Mnhei’sahe was frozen in her own thoughts as she remembered the most important thing Rei had ever told her. Rei had told Mnhei’sahe exactly how to take the mantle of Death from her. It was information she simply pushed to the back of her mind and didn’t think about. Information she didn’t want to think about.

Staring forward, Mnhei’sahe sat in the chair opposite Rei with her jaw hanging slightly open for a long moment doing nothing more than blinking and thinking. After a few seconds, Taxes leaned over and gently bopped the young woman’s head again. Again, snapping her out of her momentary daze. “This… This isn’t… you’re serious?”

"You could say I'm deathly serious," the pale woman replied without a hint of emotion.

Looking down at the book in front of her, then back across to Rei and over at Taxes hovering over her shoulder calmly, Mnhei’sahe was at a loss for words. Instead, the tension broke as an extremely nervous chuckle cracked out at the flatly delivered pun.

Nervously, the Rihannsu pilot ran her finger over the tip of one of her ears. This had been quite a month for the young woman as first her Grandmother had tried to recruit her to succeed her in the Rihannsu senate. Then the manipulative Commander Dalia Rendal tried to claim her as an apprentice. And now this. It was almost more than the emotionally weary woman could process. Instead, she reached over and grabbed a piece of sushi and ate it.

“Me? What… what does ‘compatible’ mean?” Mnhei’sahe asked, trying to wrest some mental control out of the situation with questions.

"Well for one, you just opened a book of the dead and..." Rei then motioned to Dox sitting there. "You're not dead. You've met and or spoken with three of the six whether you know it or not. You've thwarted or evaded the domains of four of us. Of any living being, you have the best and only qualifying resume of this universe."

Running through her memories, Mnhei’sahe tried to process everything while she looked down at the book realizing that she was likely handed it as a test that she apparently passed. “So… obviously you. The White Rabbit is… time. And I know I’ve met or talked with Hera, Gaia and… and Anansi…” Mnhei’sahe stuttered slightly, forcing herself to say that last name, “But they’re… who else did I talk to and who else did I…”

But as she asked, her eyes glanced across the page she had been asked to open to. Something regarding what Rei called the New Krun'chi Colony. She paused, mid-sentence as she took in the names that were both unfamiliar to her, and also not completely alien. “Rei… these names. They’re all Rihannsu.”

Rei stared silently at her for a moment contemplating whether she should mention the third aspect that had recently visited her without revealing herself before deciding against it and leaning in to look at her own book. "I believe they are, yes. Specifically, I believe you would call them... reunifi-something... Staying there on ch'Rihan, you would have saved your grandmother, become Rendal's apprentice... And that entire colony would have been wiped out thirteen cycles from now. That's..."

She pulled out a large ornate silver watch from inside her jacket and did some mental math before adding anything more. "About one month to you, I think. And..." Her hand reached out to turn the page and pointed to one name on that list that stood out to both of them. The name of a person that was now safely aboard this very vessel.

“Nouhha tlhei… Mother.” Mnhei’sahe looked at the name in the book in utter shock. The name that was no longer slated to die in a month, written out in Rei’s own hand: Jaeih ir-Korthre Dox-T’Aan. “This colony… she would have been there? And the reunificationists... they all would have died? Because of… me? Because I didn’t get rescued?”

"And now we have to rewrite the lives of everyone that was there that day." Rei nodded and popped another piece of sushi into her mouth, chewing thoughtfully. "And guess who gets to make sure I don't miss a single name?"

Raising an eyebrow at how casually Rei was taking the whole affair, Mnhei’sahe shook her head slightly. “Wait… hold on. First, all things considered, I need to ask why they would have died. What was supposed to happen?”

"If you really want to know, it's all written right there in front of you." The pale woman motioned towards the book in front of Dox with a slight grin. "Just don't read it out loud. Bad things happen when you read words of death out loud."

Looking up slightly, Dox took another piece of sushi and glanced across the table at Rei. Unlike testing her ability to open the book, this was more transparent. The enigmatic woman grinning slightly was clearly testing her again. This time, it seemed, in regards to her willingness to do the paperwork of the job. Mnhei’sahe was becoming very tired of being groomed for things, but she also needed to know why these people all would have died had she not been rescued.

Looking down, she saw the names with lists of information next to each. She didn’t recognize any of the names, but her heart sank as she read them to herself. Each name was a life that was almost extinguished. Next to the names, she saw their dates of birth and the dates they were supposed to die, just over a month away. There were so many names. Names of elders, adults and children. So many children. As she looked at the names, Mnhei’sahe’s eyes began to well up slightly, but she cleared her throat and choked back any tears.

And then, she saw the description at the bottom of the section of thousands of names. That they were to be executed under the orders of Riov Dalia Rendal… in order to break the will of her Apprentice. The apprentice listed in the book as Mnhei’sahe Dox-t’Rul, after she had refused to carry out an order to pacify the population.

Closing her eyes, Mnhei’sahe sat back and put her hand over her mouth in shock. As she did, Taxes made a plaintiff whinny as the horse lightly pressed its head against hers, comfortingly. “I can’t... She would have killed an entire colony of her own people… just to try and break me?”

"Because she didn't consider them her people any longer," Rei corrected, finishing off the eel sushi. "Along with the small fleet of ships they had. I think Fate has something else special for them in particular now. Something I guarantee you'll prefer."

Reaching up without really thinking, Mnhei’sahe patted the side of Taxes’ head reassuringly. “It’s okay, Taxes. I’m okay.” She said through a half-forced smile. Even under the circumstances, she didn’t want the spectral animal worrying over her as she looked back up at Rei, “Whatever it is, they’re alive. They weren’t used as… leverage because of me.”

There was a long moment of silence in the room as Mnhei’sahe looked at the book again before she spoke, rubbing the bridge of her nose, “So, it… means something that I was able to open this and read it, I’m guessing? Why me?”

"For the book? Because we're close friends and you know my original name and a few other things. Because Taxes likes you. Normally even those that can see him can't touch him. The other five also don't dislike you. A couple of them may even be fond of you." Rei went back to scribbling in her book. "But like I said... The ultimate decision is up to you and you have a lifetime to decide."

Turning to look at Taxes, who was still looking over her shoulder, Mnhei’sahe signed and smirked lightly. “The ‘ultimate’ decision? Interesting choice of words. Choice...” She said, trailing off for a second. Of all the bizarre paths others had presented to her, this was by far the strangest, but also one where she still had a choice in the matter. And maybe that was the difference. Maybe that was why she wasn't getting up to leave or panic. She was being asked, not coerced. She was hardly psychic, but she sensed nothing but sincerity from the woman she had considered a friend and reached out to.

Somehow, since joining the Hera, she had found herself on a grander stage than ever she thought possible, and in spite of her desire to stay out of that particular spotlight, it seemed that her choices and actions were positioning her to be there regardless. Maybe... Mnhei'sahe thought in a moment of self-doubt, Maybe I should have never asked to meet Rei when Schwein and her were merging... But how could I not help when I knew that a friend was suffering. ANd it turned out that they BOTH were. And when we separated them, everyone was checking on Schwein and Hera... and I went and offered DEATH a hand and my continued friendship. I did this to myself. Maybe I put myself here because I don't know how to not take on every responsibility that falls in front of me. Maybe I should have just stayed on Starbase 17 flying cargo shuttles...

But, as her mind startled to spiral, she shook her head and took a breath. That wasn't her. It wasn't who she wanted to be. Those same needs to do what's right lead her to where she was. To the Hera and Mona. To helping convince a Titan to be merciful. To saving her grandmother from herself. That was who she was, and if that meant opening herself to the bizarre and figuring out how to negotiate and navigate all of this, then she was a pilot, and that's what pilots did. And that's what Starfleet officers did. And that's what Mnhei'sahe Dox did.

Recentering herself, she took a breath and leaned forward to look at the book with her Mother’s name in it, that had to be re-written because she would now live, and flipped back to the original page Rei had instructed. “So… you have the advantage of me being off duty and having nothing to do, so paperwork is bizarrely appealing right now. So… we’re rewriting lives? What do you need me to do?”

"I just got back from a meeting and their lives, or at least the key moments... Have already been rewritten by Fate. I need to make sure no one got missed and write an appropriate death for each of them when their time comes. Normally, the White Rabbit would loan me a pocket and I'd have it done outside of time and space, but since something like this hasn't happened in literal eternias and the others have their own issues to deal with..." Rei opened up another book that seemed to release some sort of blue and silver steam as she did so. "I need help making sure every name over the course of the next three hundred forty-seven cycles that have turned black in that book gets rewritten in this one and has a matching entry in Fate's book. Red names are still slated to pass on as scheduled. Black names have changed and those are the ones I need to know, ok?"

Looking over at Rei with a suspiciously raised eyebrow, Mnhei’sahe smirked slightly, “And in a pocket outside of time and space, you wouldn’t be able to see how I handle this part of the job either, I’m guessing? So, the black names. The first is... Nurema ir-Korthre.”

The tension built in the air for a few seconds as Rei wrote the name in the new book and it vanished from the one in front of Dox. A few more seconds passed and the air seemed to grow deathly still and an unnatural heaviness seemed to hang in the air as the pale woman referenced the other book in front of her and scribbled out the person's ultimate end.

As she finished and looked up with a hollow grin, Rei couldn't help but chuckle at how pale Dox had become at processing just one name.

"One down... three thousand nine hundred forty-seven to go. Remember to hydrate or you'll end up as dry as me."

On ch’Rihan:
Kidnapped by the Tal’Shiar, Dox and Jaeih are taken to a TalShiar stronghold on Romulus/ch’Rihan. There, Jaeih is stapped into the device known as the Neural Extraction Converter (The Jurot) and subjected to intense mental torture where they use the device to extract vital information regarding the Hera’s data on Protomatter that she had acquired as an Intel Operative. This is largely being managed by Riov Rendal, but ordered to be as damaging as possible by the Senator, who dispises Jaeih for betraying her, the empire, the Tal’Shiar and turning her son against her and hiding a Granddaughter.

Meanwhile, the Romulan Senator Verelan t’Rul, former director of the Tal’Shiar and Dox’s paternal Grandmother is attempting to seduce Dox to her side through various means and EPIC speeches at what appears to be her palatial mansion but is, in reality, the same stronghold. Dox too, is in a Neural Extraction Converter being subjected to an illusion controlled by the Senator, who is also plugged into the device, but controlling the illusion and conversations.

As the illusion continues, Dox is led to believe that she has been rescued by Rita, Enalia and the Hera and she and her mother are lead back to safety. Once on the Hera, Enalia orders Dox to get them out of Romulan space immediately as they are facing several Warbirds and needs her flying skills. She passes Mona on the way to the helm and as they touch, Dox notices that there is NO sign of their empathic of psychic bond and realizes...

It's a Faaaaake pic.

Neener neener, joke’s on you Granny, I’ll never turn to the dark side.

The scenerio was designed to achieve Rendall’s true goal. Dox has access to the Hera’s computers through Senior Command Codes, and she would have used them to log into her station, but figured it out in time.

Rendall at this point has had enough of this time-wasting mewling slow manipulation shite. She knows the clock is ticking and she’s got shit to do, so she takes over, uses the Jurot to rewrite Granny's mind just enough so that she becomes Granny's puppet in the Senate, and she lets her do whatever she wants with regard to the family Dox.

‘Warhawk initiative’

But they still want Dox's command codes so Rendall wakes Dox up and has her father brought in. He’s been brain-damaged and tortured terribly for some time, but has had enough of his memory restored to recognize his daughter. Rendall allows the two just enough time to reconnect before executing him in front of Dox to get the codes for access to the Hera’s computers, which she refuses.

Rendal then reactivated = the Jurot and starts trying to just rip that info out, fed up with Granny's slow-ass technique. Because subtlety is for politicians and pussies.

BUT, as she's ramping up to fuck up Dox's mind just like dear mama’s, but before she does Dox gives her shit because Dox DOES have strong mental defenses thanks to Sonak now, Enalia and team, breaking in, get noticed or something and the alarms go off. ( See away team notes below)

The distraction allows Dox to break out while Rendall escapes with what she got from Jaeih and Dox meets up with team Hera in time to save what's left of Jaeih, who was on death's door.

They escape to move on to the next story, possibly stealing the Jurot or discovering they need it later to restore Jaeih.

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TEAM HERA

After determining who on the Romulan Baroness's ship sold out the Dox's, the Baroness agrees to lend her ships to a rescue effort.

Rescue team is Rita, Enalia, Az'Prel, Sonak and Asa along with a loyal member of the Romulan Baroness' crew so there's one ACTUAL Romulan who knows the culture to assist. All but Az'Prel are surgically altered to look Romulan. They investigate and determine the Dox's are being kept in a Tal'Shiar base on Romulus where Granny still keeps a rather luxurious appartment, maybe. (The better location to try and sway Dox?)

The team infiltrates the base. Action and intrigue ensue.

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

For the Hera's chief of engineering, having now been almost completely de-romulafied, she had a sense of relief now that the Hera had had a once over and was heading back to Federation space.

'Had' being the past tense, given a small transport shuttle that had just arrived only six hours ago.

Now she had a whole other problem that was keeping her worried. Or to be more correct, two of them.

One of whom now was wrapped in a blanket, which Thex gripped more tightly than anything she ever had, as she walked around Deck 4 trying to get Tothye zh'Zoarhi to go to sleep. Her small white daughter gurgled slightly as she played with Thex's long hair that she curled and pulled.

Despite all the worry that was now going through the Andorian engineer's head. as she looked into her little girl's blue eyes that kept on staring at her, she couldn't be happier. She had a family like she'd always wanted, and everything seemed to be going alright.

While holodecks were amazing, and could recreate anywhere you wished to be, Commander Rita Paris still enjoyed running around the decks of the starship. In an odd way she felt that it kept her in touch with the starship- what was going on, both with the ship herself as well as her denizens. So when she was taking a circuit of Deck 4 on her way to take a loop around the flight deck, she was surprised to see the ship’s chief engineer up walking the decks with a swaddled bundle in her arms.

Switching from running speed to tiptoe speed, Rita approached Thex and her newborn, making silent waggling fingers to say hello as she didn’t want to impede progress on what she suspected was a late-night walk to hopefully lull the youngster to sleep.

Unfortunately for Rita and Thex, Tothye hearing appeared to be far better than most. Her small antenna swiveled upon hearing Rita footsteps and the newborn zygote pocked her head out of the blankets and cooed slighly as Thex approached her friend. " Yes, this is your auntie Rita. Rita this is Tothye zh'Zoarhi." Thex said with the happiness in her voice being unmistakable as she held the little Andorian tightly to her.

"Well hello there little one!" Rita cooed. coming over to peer at the small bundle. "She's white... not blue?"

"Yeah, it happens from time to time with Andorran/Anear hybrids. She may turn blue as she gets older. Unlike her twin who's already blue," Thex said, beaming proudly.

“Well, white or blue, she’s adorable. Hello, Tothye!” Rita waggled her fingers at the infant, smiling warmly. “Welcome to the universe. It’s filled with wonders and amazing sights and experiences- you’re in for a real treat! And you have a great big family already… well, I guess Andorians always have big families,” Rita chuckled, as the quad was the norm in Andorian culture, rather than the couple in so many others.

"Indeed. The four of us, twelve grandparents and all of her family here on the Hera. You've got one of the biggest families in the galaxy. " Thex said as Tothye went back to pulling her Shreya's hair. "I'd like to thank you Rita. Your friendship helped me through all of this and led me to these two wonderful girls."

"I literally wouldn't be here today if not for you, Thex. You taught me basic history, explained how the fleet had changed, then you saved my life. I'm glad I convinced the Captain to let us be a family ship, and I'm glad you have one now. When I met you, all I could think was that you were so nice, how were you all alone. Except for your... space jellyfish dad, I believe you put it...?" Rita smirked a bit at the mention, even as she took in the tiny infant's white features, tinged ever so slightly with a pale blue cast. The little antennae followed her finger as she brought it in toward the infant, as if she were focusing on it harder with her electromagnetic senses rather than her eyes. Which would make sense as an Aenar, or else her inherent telepathy was already at work.

"Yeah, Vash is one big jellyfish. Whish I knew what was up with him he hasn't returned any of my calls." Thex replied feeling slightly down. Her daughter seemed to sense this and cooed as she snuggled closer to Thex though her antenna still followed Rita. " I've sent holo images to my Thavan. I hope he's okay. " The blue engineer added.

“Isn’t he sort of an extradimensional entity that comes and goes as he pleases? Maybe he’s caught up in some cosmic escapade and he hasn’t gotten your message yet?” Missing parents were always a concern, of course, and particularly given the nature of Thex’s adopted father. But in truth, Paris wouldn’t have the first clue how to track him down if she needed to do so, so she’d just reassure for now.

"I guess you're right. He'll turn up sooner or later. Still, how are you doing Rita?" Thex asked her friend.

“Me? Oh, dandy, you know me,” Rita replied, moving her finger back and forth and watching as the infant seemed to watch, mesmerized, sucker-tipped antennae reaching and pulsing as they tried to interpret what they were encountering with Rita’s peculiar quantum field. “Bit of a trial being separated from Sonak for a few months, but I knew he’d find me- he always does. And I got in shape, got a tan and I ended up coming back a few seconds after I was lost, literally on the same beam-in, so I don’t have much to complain about other than wondering how the revolution panned out once the tyrant was deposed. Standard Rita problems, right?”

"Life always a rollercoaster with you, isn't it, my friend?" Thex said with a polite grin of knowing her friend's life that made her's look almost normal. Tothye continued to follow Rita's finger still mesmerized by her quantum field. "Oh, I have the first prototype for the copy of the Amazon's bracelets. Just need to find a nice quiet rock to make the subspace bubble." The head engineer added.

"That should be exciting... we'll have to get permission from the Captain to set up controlled testing, and coordinate with Science to monitor and be prepared to contain the experiment if something goes wrong." As she spoke, Rita kept playing with the tiny blue babe, gingerly bopping her on the nose, which made the infant cross her eyes then giggle. "As for a rollercoaster, funny thing. On a shore leave on Risa, years ago when I was fresh out of the Academy, a blind Aenar fortune teller once told me that I would lead a life less ordinary, and that the universe knew of my desire to explore, and that I should be careful what I wished for. Have to hand it to her, she was certainly correct. But I wouldn't have it any other way."

"She was indeed," Thex agreed with a grin. "I'll make sure I clear everything with the captain and command. I don't want to end up being remembered as the girl who warped a sub-sector out of our dimension."

“Yeahhhhh, let’s not do that. This little one has a universe to inherit, after all,” Rita cooed as she leaned in to offer a finger to the babe, who reached up to grasp it with tiny, pudgy blue fingers. “We have to keep it safe until she’s ready, right?”

"Indeed. She's going to have so much to see and do," Thex said as she rubbed her daughter's nose with her own. The small Andorian let out a squeal of joy as she reached and grabbed her Shreya's hair with her small freehand. "If only she'd go to sleep as easily as her sister."

"Well, they say a child who doesn't sleep is an explorer born... they don't want to go to sleep for fear they'll miss out on something. So maybe try looking at it that way when you're trying to rock her to sleep. Which reminds me, I have a gift for you that's overdue..." Reaching into her exercise top, Rita produced a cylindrical device that snapped open to become a small portable PaDD, and she tapped away at it for a few seconds before collapsing it and storing it away in her top again. "By the time you get back to your quarters, there should be a pair of rocking chairs waiting for you. I don't know if they work on blue babes like they do on us earthlings, but it's a chair that lets you rock back and forth, and it's supposed to be soothing for the baby. maybe try those out next time she's determined not to miss a thing."

"I'll give it a try Rita. Thank you." Thex said as she looked at her daughter. She'd appreciate anything, that could help. "Tothye, say goodnight to your Aunt Rita," she said to the small Andorian. Tothye let out a cross between a gurgle and a burp as she reached out with a tiny hand toward the human.

"Goodbye for now, little one. Go try out a rocking chair and see if it works for you like it does for earthling babies, hm?" Reaching down to tough the pale blue almost white forehead of the infant, Rita smiled and sighed. The rocking chair would do the trick, she was reasonably certain, and the whole family would be able to get some sleep soon.

Now if she could just quell her own urge to reproduce quite as easily...

It had been an unusual evening for the elder Rihannsu woman, Jaeih Dox. The Independent Intelligence operative had, while relieved of duty pending an investigation into her month spent on a Warbird as a prisoner of the ‘Romulan’ Star Empire, had little to do while the Hera warped under escort back to the Sol system and those investigations and interrogations. So, she had spent the evening in the ships main lounge with her two VERY unlikely friends, Ensign’s Briaar Gavarus and Fiona O’Dell, getting very, very drunk.

Probably more drunk than the usually controlled woman had allowed herself to get in many, many years. But she had genuinely enjoyed herself and thankfully, with modern medicine, hangovers weren’t really a thing she worried about much anymore. At least not with the resources on the Hera.

So, she was alert, sharp and feeling no ill effects from her night of drinking. But her stomach was still in a tight knot as she rode the turbolift to the ship's bridge. She stood, alone in the lift, in her gray Starfleet intel tunic. On her chest, was the custom comm badge Commander Rita Paris had made especially for her, in the shape of the sigil of the Romulan empire she once served and once believed in. It was a badge that she had worn with pride until the kidnapping of her and her daughter. Now the wings of Al’Thindor hung heavy on her chest, a reminder of the fate she had escaped from now twice.

She had made arrangements the day earlier to meet with the ships captain, Enalia Telvan, and her appointment was in but a few minutes. There were things she needed to say to the Trill Captain that Jaeih had known since she was an unjoined, fifteen-year old named Enalia Artan, and she was ready to say them. But she also had concerns, as the Hera was on it’s way to Starfleet Intelligence. To the complex that she had been ‘housed’ in for sixteen years as a prisoner. A gilded cage of a prison, but not one she ever wanted to return to. And she was feeling just the faintest twinges of worry as they were set to go back there and she feared again for her freedom.

As the doors opened, she stepped forward towards the door opposite the lift to the Captain’s ready room. Containing her concern like the trained agent that she was, she pressed the door chime.

"Enter," came the call from the other side of the door as it opened. The Trill woman at the desk looked up from her desk terminal, bleary-eyed and clicked it off as Jaeih entered. "Is it that time already? I swear I'd rather fight a hundred Tal'Shiar than do another of these intel reports... May I offer you some tea? Lemonade? Something from the replicator?"

Stepping inside, her arms folded behind her back as they usually were, Jaeih nodded slightly. “Thank you, Captain. Tea would be fine, thank you.” Jaeih knew well of the woman’s affinity for tea and her collection of exotic tea sets and hoped that beverage request would set a positive tone and chose to be conversational. “I share your disdain for such things, though I find it unusual how much Mnh… Lieutenant Dox seems to find comfort in paperwork. It was not a trait she inherited from me.”

As Enalia opened her desk drawers and retrieved teacups and saucers and a thermos of tea, she nodded in understanding. "I would assume she got it from her father or picked it up in the academy then. It's something they drill into you. She'll make a fine Captain someday." She popped open the thermos and a fine mist escaped as she poured the chilled liquid into the two ornate silver-lined teacups. "Andorian ginger leaf tea. Maica was so busy with Moira this morning I tried my hand at one of the teas that I was fairly confident with so please be honest about it. The teacups are replicas of an Andorian set used by Thalisar the Last. The originals are sitting in my fortress vaults, of course."

Smiling slightly at the effort the young Captain was making for her, Jaeih relaxed ever so slightly as she took the cup, blew on it slightly and took a sip. Rolling it around on her tongue for a moment, the elder Rihannsu woman nodded. “It’s quite good, Thank you. And how is little Moira doing? Or, more accurately, how are you doing, if you don’t mind my impertinence.”

As the Trill woman sipped at her own tea and leaned back in her chair, she seemed to age a little as she did so. "I'm exhausted. My mother used maids and servants to raise my sister and I, so I swore Maica and I would do it ourselves like normal people... But I'm actually considering getting one of those nanny holos they're using in medical. Maica is picking things up fast of course, but she's only had programming and data to go on and we've had to rely on what little maternal instincts I have to guide us a lot of the time."

"But when she smiles up at you and waves one of her toys in the air like a sword..." Enalia couldn't help but grin and sigh. "There's just something that fills your heart..."

Nodding, Jaeih’s smile seemed to become slightly more melancholy as she listened to the Captain, still standing across from the desk. “It is… primarily… of such issues that I wished to speak to you, Captain. Of children and the future, if I may.”

"Well, have a seat and tell me what's on your mind. We've known each other for so long, there's no reason to stand on ceremony." Enalia had that lopsided grin of hers out, but it was softer now. More maternal, perhaps.

Sitting, Jaeih set her teacup on the desk and collected her thoughts. “When I first came aboard your ship… when we first spoke, I asked you to make a promise. A promise that you would protect my daughter from whatever might happen if the Tal’Shiar and her Grandmother learned of her existence. And… while my own opinions regarding Verelan have… softened a bit after my time with her, my daughter is here.”

Taking a breath, it was clear that the usually reserved and controlled woman was having a bit of difficulty saying what she needed to. “She is here and alive with her wife and the children on the way who will now have both of their mothers in their lives. And that is because you upheld your promise at great risk to yourself and the crew and…” The elder Rihannsu woman was as stoic as she could be, but her voice had cracked ever so slightly as she spoke, “...and I am forever in your debt for that, Enalia.”

"Then I expect you'll say yes to being Moira's godmother. Honestly, I can't think of anyone better suited to it." Enalia also set her teacup aside and became more serious. "But I would have done the same, promise or not, simply because I consider both of you to be part of my own family. You've seen how far I'll go for family."

Listening, Jaeih's mouth dropped open and her eyes went wide as Enalia's words struck her and, like her Daughter often did, she slipped momentarily into her native Rihan. "Fvah? theirr’anov? Me? You want me to be… her godmother?!"

Picking up her cup and taking a large sip, Jaeih's eyebrows knitted as she thought. "Why does everyone think I’m suited for… Enalia. That Mnhei'sahe is as adjusted as she is is a miracle, considering how I raised her! You cannot be serious."

"And I heard that you're amazing with children. Particularly our resident minotaur babe. Also, if something were to happen to the Queen of the Artans' daughter, I'll know she'll be safe." Enalia had no grin and looked as serious as she could be. "So yes, I am serious. As for well adjusted, look at my mother and myself. I'd like to be considered within tolerances of normal. Schwein was raised on a colony without parents as a supersoldier believing she was created to fight a war that may never happen. Again... Well within the realm of what is considered normal. Our kids will turn out just fine with or without us."

Straightening back up, Jaeih regained her composure and nodded. "Well then, on my honor… on my mnhei'sahe…" she paused slightly on the Rihan word for the Ruling Passion. The code of honor she had named her own child after, before continuing, "I swear to you that Moira will have a godmother who will care for her and serve her until she can no longer draw breath "

"And on my honor, I swear to you that I will be the family that you and yours deserve until the last Artan flag is turned to dust and the last Artan sword is turned to rust." With that oath, Enalia bowed her head for a moment.

Bowing her head in response, Jaeih was silent for a moment as well, but only a moment. As she raised her head, she had a light smile. "Well, oaths aside, I suppose I have a goddaughter to get to know and yet another reason to make it back from our upcoming interrogations at one of my very favorite places."

Now having moved to a slightly lighter topic, Enalia picked up her teacup and saucer and sipped at her tea. "On that subject, I've requested that as a civilian you remain on the Hera for your debriefing. There's no guarantee they'll go along with it, but considering your past reports Admiral Meowlith agrees that it's not outside of the realm of possibility. You'll have access to Jupiter Station's promenades while we're docked, though the facilities there are sparse at best."

"I… appreciate that, Enalia." Jaeih let out a breath as she picked her own tea back up. "I am sure Jupiter is lovely. But just so long as it's not that complex, I will be fine. That said, will you? Commander Paris? The others?"

Taking a sip, Jaeih put her cup back down, leaned forward and crossed her hands with a concerned expression. "These… debriefings. How much trouble will you all be in for rescuing us?"

Enalia nodded before finishing off her own tea and setting her teacup aside. "Yeah, we'll likely be spending at least a few days there. Mnhei'sahe will be facing a particularly lengthy gauntlet of admirals. I also expect DTI to somehow find a reason to show up and interrogate Commander Paris. I'll have to justify the whole mission... But I heard that Farenia was promoted before getting word that we were successful, which means they either expected us to not come back, hoping to finally be rid of us... Or they expected us to come back with complete success, having resolved the situation to the satisfaction of both governments."

"The Rihannsu government won't acknowledge anything. Especially not if that susse-thrai, Rendal, still wants Mnhei'sahe and this ships secrets." Jaeih said, a twinge of anger in her voice as she continues. "Mnhei'sahe… She has spent her career in Starfleet trying to prove she wasn't what this galaxy thinks of our people. And now, she will be judged again for that heritage. This… gauntlet. Do you believe she can get through it with her career intact?"

"I do. She has a lot of support on her side, not just on this ship but in the admiralty as well. Of course, some of those admirals will likely want to use her to their own ends or maneuver into her good graces, so there's no telling what they'll do or say, especially the diplomats..." Enalia thought over the list of people waiting in line just wanting to meet her now. "But I'm confident that she'll still have her career safely intact in some form or another. Though she might need to run through additional command training at warp nine..."

Nodding, Jaeih smirked lightly. "You know better than most how well she can maneuver at warp speeds, even in a ship this big. But again, I know she will not be alone with you and the commander behind her, and for that I am beyond grateful. For everything."

"And we'll be doing everything in our power to ensure she makes it back to the Hera with us," Enalia replied reassuringly.

"Of that I have no doubt, Enalia." Jaeih said with a raised eyebrow. "Now… I've said what I needed to and then some. Unless you have any objections, I would like a formal introduction to my new goddaughter."

In the quarters she shared with her wife and bond-mate, Mona Gonadie, the embattled Rihannsu lieutenant, Mnhei’sahe Dox was still in bed allowing herself a luxury she very rarely indulged in: sleeping late.

It had only been a couple of days since her and her mother had been rescued from captivity by the Tal’Shiar and the Hera was warping it’s way to the Sol system where she and the command crew was to face multiple Starfleet Intelligence debriefings, but until such a time as those meetings were over and Mnhei’sahe was found clear of any wrongdoings in the incidents, she was officially removed from duty.

However, Mona was back on duty now that her wife was safe at home, and actually stuck doing a bit more duty than not by filling in at the Flight Control Department as it’s assistant chief while its actual chief was forced to cool her heels and wait for permission to get back to work. It was a frustrating state of affairs as Mnhei’sahe was extremely stressed and found herself unable to do the one non-destructive thing that she found helped when she was overly stressed: work.

At least officially. She had still found some ways to occupy her time. Chief among them was the most unusual activity the young pilot had ever been engaged in across her thirty-two years of life. The day before, she had spent with her most unusual friend, the woman she called Masato Rei. The embodiment of Death itself. The two talked, ate sushi, and Rei informed Mnhei’sahe of something she was likely going to be processing for years to come. Mnhei’sahe had apparently been chosen, when her own life was finished, to succeed Rei in the role of Death. It was, to say the least, not an idea she was comfortable with. But it was also a role she could decline as well, so she had that slim comfort.

But it was something she had no idea who to talk to about. Her friendship with Rei was something she didn’t even talk about much with MONA as, frankly, nobody wants to talk about one’s lunches with DEATH. But aside from that revelation, Rei also had a task she needed help with and asked Mnhei’sahe for help with.

As it turned out, according to fate, Mnhei’sahe was not meant to be rescued from Romulus. She was meant to stay there for years before finally escaping. But because of the presence of Rita Paris, Sonak, and Az’Prel, she was rescued. The three were refugees from another dimension, and their actions in THIS reality had the unique quality of being completely off of Fate and Death’s respective books. And because of that rescue, a colony of Rihansu reunificationists… three thousand nine hundred forty-eight of them… were now going to live when they were originally supposed to die within a month.

So, for hours the day before, Mnhei’sahe had assisted Rei in removing those thousands of names from her books while the enigmatic being re-wrote their fates. It was a task that only Mnhei’sahe could have helped with apparently, as Rei had informed her that nobody else alive could have read, much less opened, a Book of the Dead. Another item to be added to the list of unusual things about herself and her life that she had to stress over. But the act of reading out the thousands of names had been particularly exhausting to Mnhei’sahe. Perhaps supernaturally so, Rei implied. So that night, after snuggling with Mona and trying to not talk or think about being hand-picked by Death as a secretary, she had passed out hard.

So hard that she had slept through Mona getting up and leaving for work, though as she began to stir in their bed, she smiled as she could still smell her Miradonian mate. Slowly, Mnhei’sahe had begun to roll over and groggily open her eyes as she muttered weakly, “C… computer. What time is it, please?”

With a slightly muted chirp, standard for the bedroom, the computer replied =^=The time is 02:37 hours.=^=

“Imirrhlhhse!” She cursed as she shot up in bed, still groggy but stunned at how late it was as she muttered to herself in her native tongue, “Fourteen… I slept for fourteen hours? Ughh… it’s probably good that I’m not on active duty or…”

As she sat up, rubbing her eyes in the still-dark room, she heard something in the main chamber of their quarters. A voice and what sounded like giggling. She couldn’t quite make anything out, but she got up and grabbed her crimson robe, tied it off and went to the door. As it wooshed open, she looked and saw a bizarre sight. Her mother, Jaeih Dox, sitting on her couch holding a small baby with light green skin and a face rimmed with spots that Mnhei'sahe recognized as the daughter of Captain Enalia Telvan and her wife, Maica.

Jaeih was bouncing the baby on her lap and smiling as the baby giggled and Jaeih whispered in Federation Standard. “Shhh, shhh. We must be quiet my dear, we don’t want to wake up…” Then she noticed her daughter standing in the door to the bedroom, “...Mnhei’sahe. Ahh… I apologize. We came to visit and you were still asleep, but Moira was getting fussy so I was going to prepare a bottle and one thing lead to another.”

Rubbing her face slightly, Mnhei’sahe was still clearly tired as she raised an eyebrow and replied in Federation Standard as well. “It’s okay, Mother. I needed to get up anyway. I overslept… considerably. And yeah… coffee.”

Slowly plodding across the room to the replicator in the kitchenette, Mnhei’sahe ordered a cup of black Rihannsu coffee. It was unusually tart and almost sour by human standards, but both Mnhei’sahe and her mother enjoyed it quite well. “Do you want anything, Mother?”

“No thank you. I’ll get her bottle in a moment, but there’s a specific formula I need to add to the replicator in here.” Jaeih said, looking with a raised eyebrow at her daughter. “Are you well? I don’t know you to sleep this long, Mnhei’sahe? Frankly, you look like death.”

Taking a sip of her coffee, Mnhei’sahe almost spat it out as she choked slightly. “Al’thindor forbid.” She whispered as she walked over to the chair next to the couch. “No, I’m fine Mother. I was just up late with… some paperwork.”

Taking another sip and savoring it this time, Mnhei’sahe took a moment and looked over, smiling lightly. “So, did the Captain ask you to babysit for Moira or something? Is everything okay?”

“Oh, beyond okay, Mnhei’sahe.” Jaeih smiled as she continued to bounce the spotted, green infant who continued to giggle. “I was speaking to En… to the the CAPTAIN… about everything that had happened, and after a bit, she… well… she asked my to become little Moira’s… Theirr’anov. Her godmother. To help take care of her and take care of her if, Al’thindor forbid, anything were to ever happen.”

Surprised slightly, Mnhei’sahe suddenly felt a bit more awake as her eyes went wide. Watching, Jaeih smirked slightly and said, “Yes, that was the face I made as well. Frankly, between Mona, Gavarus and O’Dell, and now Enalia, I do not understand why everyone seems to think I’m the person to trust children with.”

Sipping her coffee, Mnhei’sahe smiled lightly and settled back in the chair. “Face it, Mother. You are not the same woman you were when I was little. Even I can see that. And clearly, so can everyone else.”

Reaching up under Moira’s arms, Jaeih stood up with the baby, lightly rolling her eyes and stepped around the small table to the chair with Mnhei’sahe planted in it. “Put your coffee down a moment, I need to fix her lunch. Hold her please.” It was said as a statement and clearly not a request as the fatigued young pilot knitted her eyebrows and scrambled to put her cup down.

“Simhoni, fvah!? Dhat…” Mnhei’sahe protested in vain as, once her cup was down, Jaeih deposited the smiling baby in her arms. Not even realizing she had switched to Rihan to say ‘Wait, what!? No…’, Mnhei’sahe reluctantly took the little green baby, holding her from under her arms, but holding her out a few inches away from actually holding her.

“Oh, for Elements sake, Mnhei’sahe. You have three of these on the way. Just… here.” Leaning over, Jaeih gently repositioned little Moira in Mnhei’sahe’s arms in a proper cradle and stood back up. “There. Just keep her head supported and rock her and she’ll be fine.”

Looking down, little Moira was looking back up at Mnhei’sahe with big, brown eyes and a soft smile as she gurgled slightly, reaching up to tug on the pilot’s red curls gently. “Ie, yes. I have… ow… hair. Yes, I do.” Then she looked up to her mother who was punching instruction into the replicator. And a moment later, a small bottle appeared. “So… The Captain wants you to be Moira’s Godmother. While that’s wonderful… why did you bring her here?”

Turning, while testing the temperature of the bottle on her wrist, Jaeih grabbed a bright yellow dishrag with cartoon eggs on it and flipped it up over her shoulder as she looked at her daughter who had a suspicious look on her face. “Because… you and I haven’t talked… really talked… since we left ch’Rihan. We’re avoiding each other, we both know why, and we won’t be inclined to yell at each other with a baby in the room. I admit that I stole the idea from Miss Gavarus, but it was effective then and should be so thusly.”

As Jaeih walked back over, Mnhei’sahe began to angle to hold Moira back up for her to grab, but Jaeih just shook her head, “No, no. Here. Hold her a bit more upright…”

“Mother… this is ridicu…” Mnhei’sahe tried to protest, but then Jaeih simply put the dishrag over her daughter’s shoulder and presented the bottle to the smiling baby, who began making grabby hands for it. “Yes, here you go, e'lev. Take it gently, slowly. Good.”

It was almost uncomfortable watching her mother dote so thoroughly, but not as uncomfortable as it was to be the one who had to hold the baby all the while. But little Moira took the bottle and began sucking gently as Mnhei’sahe continued to gently rock her in her arms, bringing her voice down slightly. “So, what are we talking about, mother?”

Sitting down, Jaeih casually stole her daughter’s coffee cup and took a sip before setting it back down. “We can start with whatever you’d like, my dear. But are you aware that your accent has come back?”

Rolling her eyes, Mnhei’sahe sighed, “Yes, Mother. It’s… it’s been tricky since we got back. Nobody’s said anything but I know they can hear it. It’s frustrating. It took me almost four years of practice when I first was sent to Earth to learn how to cover it up. But one month of talking in almost nothing but Rihan, and it feels like I have to start practicing all over.”

“It’s not that pronounced, dear. Just a little a bit under enunciated and drawn out on the vowels. You're rolling your letters a bit more. Honestly, it's quite faint and only seems to peek out when you're stressed. But if it bothers you, I'm sure you’ll get it under control.” Jaeih said with an undercurrent of judgment in her tone. “Still, that you have an accent is no shame. I understand why you sought to conceal it for co long, considering Starfleet’s view on our people, but everyone who knows you, know’s what you are now. And nobody here judges you for it. You know that.”

As Jaeih was talking, Mnhei’sahe looked down at the baby in her arms and thought about the three growing in her wife at that very moment. The three children she could now feel when the bonded couple touched. The three children that would be as Rihannsu as they would be Miradonian. And as she thought, she realized her mother was right. She had spent years trying to pretend to be something she wasn’t. “I know, Mother. Though I’m willing to bet that the brass at Starfleet Intel will take hearing an accent as a bad sign when I have to sit down for my debriefings later in the week.”

“Debriefings…” Jaeih scoffed as she crossed her legs. “Call them what they are: interrogations. It’s an insult that after everything you’ve done for this ship… for their Federation… that they are treating you as if you did something wrong for being kidnapped. It’s disgusting.”

“Didn’t I?” Mnhei’sahe mused, looking down at little Moira. “I can justify it as playing out the clock and stalling for time, but I listened. I was told to compromise and consider and I did and you know it. You saw it.”

Leaning forward, Jaeih folded her hands in front of her and rested her arms on her knees. “And did you agree to stay? To join your grandmother in the Rihannus senate and abandon your wife? Did you renounce Starfleet and your life like I know you were told to? No. What did you do? What was your crime? Caring enough about that world to want to help it? Is that not what your Federation is supposed to be devoted to? ”

Standing up, Jaeih began pacing as she talked, “Listen to me. Your grandmother… Verelan. She is and has always been… persuasive. When she found me studying in Engineering at the Academy of the Great Art, she took me under her wing. She said all the same things she said to you. That the best way to change the system, to fix ch’Rihan, was from within. And I believed her as wholeheartedly as you would have if you hadn’t stood up for yourself and let her continue. I followed her and accepted her tutelage and did my best to be what she wanted me to be.”

Looking up with a thoughtful expression, this was quite possibly the most her mother had ever spoke of her past with Mnhei’sahe and it was a surprise and a very welcome one. Listening, Jaeih continued. “And… it wasn’t hard. Much like you, she saw a space in my heart and she did what she could to replace what was missing. And for the both of us, it was much the same thing.”

“What do you mean?” Mnhei’sahe asked, gently, as little Moira was starting to drift off in her arms as her bottle lowered slowly from her pursed lips.

“Family.” Jaeih said after a moment of hesitation. “I know… I’ve never spoken of such things. I… I didn’t know how to. But, my own mother. Your other grandmother. Her name was Fethraie. She was an… aide.” As she spoke, she sighed and continued. “A political aide to a senator. She, herself, was nothing special. We came from no great house. We had no house name, yet. So she was simply Fethraie ir-Korthre.”

Listening, Mnhei’sahe’s eyebrow cricked up. She recognized that name from Death’s book. Several of the names that had been scheduled to die but didn’t shared that name. But she didn’t give it too much thought. She knew the Rihannsu naming conventions, and 'ir-Korthre' was a second name, indicative of where a Rihanha was from. In this case, it simply identified one as having come from the village of Korthre, so Mnhei’sahe said nothing and let her mother continue.

“She was in transit in a transport ship from the Hearthworld to a colony on the edge of the Neutral Zone when her ship was intercepted by a Federation ship. Who was on who’s side has never been determined, but there was a battle and many on board were killed. My father was, at the time, a simple Centurion guarding the Senator. They had only been wed for five years. I was only four and still at home at the time, but… my father… Tha'torth… he saved the Senator when enemy fire ruptured the hull and nearly blew them both into space, but…”

As Jaeih paused, she knew without hearing the rest and whispered ‘oh my’ in Rihan gently as she felt herself go slightly pale. “Tlhei…”

“Yes. My Mother was nearest the bulkhead when it disintegrated. She never had a chance.” Jaeih sat back down looking slightly more weary in that moment. “Before that, my father was a more open man. He used to read to me of our Vulcan ancestors. He was what would later be called a reunificationist. 'Was' being the operative term. Afterward… after losing his wife to aliens. Well, he became the model Romulan officer. Xenophobic and vocal about his hatred of anyone who wasn't Rihannsu because of what he lost that day. And as a hero who saved a noble Deihu, his voice suddenly had more weight. He earned a house name for us. He made Riov within a year. We became wealthy, but he became a different man, and one I almost never saw anymore. After that, we had enough to have house servants and I was largely raised by our hru'hfe. Our head servant.”

"So... in many ways, I too was... adrift for many years. Then I met Verelan and she was filled with passion and life and filled many cracks I had left in me." Jaeih admitted.

The baby was now lightly snoring in Mnhei’sahe’s arms, snuggled tight up to her warm chest and gripping her plush, crimson robe as the young Rihannsu woman picked up the fallen bottle and set it aside. “So, Grandmother… she… she became like a surrogate mother to you, didn’t she?”

“So, you can see why our… falling out… was as extreme as it was.” Jaeih smiled slightly, but it was a forced affair and Mnhei’sahe could see it on her face. “For a long time, all was well. Verelan was my superior. She recruited me into the Tal'Shiar and we were to make it better. We were to be true Rihannsu. But before too long, we were both just following our orders blindly. And when she introduced me to your father, I thought it was perfect."

"But after a time, Verelan had begun grooming us for something other than our service to the Tal'Shiar. She had political aspirations for Dralath... for your father. And that meant I would have to resign myself to the life of a political wife. Go back to that life I hated when my own father became wealthy. I would be stuck in an ostentatious home out in the country, preparing grand meals and being your father's doting prize. But in my heart, I saw it as nothing more than destroying the career that I had worked so hard to build. And worse, to become little more than what my hru'hfe was to me when I was young: a pretty house servant." Jaeih said, clearly having a hard time with the memories she knew her daughter deserved to hear.

"So I pushed away. Began demanding assignments further and further from the Hearthworld and Dralath. I was a frightened little girl still running away. And... and for years, I refused to see that. So, I blamed Verelan for everything. For my relationship with your father falling apart. For my career… for everything. I lied to myself for so long that I finally ended up believing it, Mnhei’sahe.”

“I loved your father, I did. And he loved me… perhaps far more. He gave up everything just for another chance to be with me when he discovered I was alive. And I tried, for a time. But as always, I pushed him away, Mnhei’sahe.” Jaeih admitted with more than a little pain in her voice. “I pushed him away and he suffered for my pride and my… independence. And… I never even got to see him before…”

A tear escaped Jaeih’s eye and she quickly wiped it away, hoping that Mnhei’sahe didn’t see, but she did and she said something. “No. No more hiding. No more pretending you have no pain, Mother. Look at me. Look at her.”

Looking down at the little green baby in her arms, Mnhei’sahe continued to whisper as she locked eyes with her mother. “He loved you. He loved me. He said so before he died. The last time I saw him… he was standing in front of me. He looked for all the world like the man that you told me about. Tall, handsome, and proud with bright eyes and a warm smile. And that was the last thing I saw of him, Mother. He may be gone, but he touched me before he left and I will always carry that… and that memory… forever.”

“And one day… I’ll learn to share that with you. I promise.” As she spoke, Mnhei’sahe told her mother the truth, but for one small detail. She spoke not of the disheveled, broken man in rags with the hollow eyes and the lost face that touched her before Riov Rendal executed him. Instead, she spoke of the man, restored. The soul taken in that last instant by Masato Rei that she had been allowed to see one last time. Her TRUE father, unbroken forever. That was her true last memory of the man and the one she shared now.

Across the room, Jaieh knew better. She knew what she was hearing couldn’t be true. But she also saw nothing but truth coming from her daughter, who could never lie to her. So she simply smiled and nodded. “Thank you, my daughter. I… I appreciate that. And I’m glad you saw him like that. He was… an amazing man. You deserved to know him. Have him in your life.”

Nodding, Mnhei’sahe started to speak as she stood up slowly and gently, not wanting her mother to go down the path she was starting on. “And now, I want… I deserve... to know the woman in front of me. The woman telling me the things she was never able to say. The mother I always wanted, who is somehow here. Sitting right in front of me. Ready to be a godmother and a grandmother.”

As delicately as possible, Mnhei’sahe squatted down and softly transferred Enalia Telvan’s beautiful daughter into the arms of the elder Rihannsu woman chosen as the baby’s Godmother. The woman who would be a grandmother to Mnhei’sahe’s three daughters on the way. “You are my mother. You are her godmother now. And you are ready to be who you always could and you have earned all of this and I am extremely happy for all of this. And I am proud that you are my Ri’anov.”

Looking down, little Moira cooed and turned over to snuggle up against Jaeih’s chest and let out a light sigh as she did. Looking up to meet her daughter’s gaze, Jaeih’s eyes were wet with tears and a smile crept across her face. No more was said for a long moment while they let the baby sleep. And before long, Mnhei’sahe, sitting back in her chair, drifted back off as well. And as they both slept, Jaeih simply smiled at the hand fate had dealt her. A fate she never could have imagined: Happiness.

The week-long travel time from the Romulan Neutral Zone to the Sol system was a largely uneventful one, and the Hera was now safely docked at Jupiter Station while several members of her command crew were preparing for their debriefings with Starfleet Intelligence. Debriefings which were more commonly thought of as interrogations, due to the extreme circumstances of the recent kidnapping and subsequent rescue of Lieutenant Mnhei’sahe Dox and her mother, Jaeih from the hands of the Tal’Shiar. The officers to be debriefed were, for the most part, to be transported by shuttle from Jupiter station to Earth together, where most of their stays were expected to last at least a couple of days.

Except for Lieutenant Dox.

As she sat in the rear of a very well-armed Starfleet Runabout that had been sent to deliver her to Earth, she read over a PaDD in her hands while the Starfleet Security guards sent by Intel Command stood nearby, silently eyeing Petty Officers S’Rina and V’Nus Wil’I’Ams. Starfleet had wanted Dox to be isolated and under only their protection, but the command of the Hera had insured that Dox had her own retinue of security whom she both knew and trusted. Just to be sure. Their presence made her feel better, and it emphasized that both Starfleet AND The Hera was taking the young Lieutenant’s safety very seriously in this transfer. Even in a system as well defended as the heart of the Federation, nobody was taking the issue of her kidnapping by the Tal’Shiar lightly.

Reading the PaDD, the young redheaded Rihannsu woman sighed lightly. While the Captain and Commander would have to sit through a number of meetings, debriefings and the like, she had in her hands a gauntlet of 30 separate meetings. 12 Admirals, 5 Starfleet Psychological evaluations, 6 separate diplomats, 6 Starfleet Intelligence department heads, and 1 unnamed 'Special Consultant', who was likely another Romulan ex-pat like her mother. The two weeks that the Hera was scheduled to stay at the Jupiter station was well and truly filled for her, and she couldn’t help but feel like this was not terribly dissimilar to the month she had just spent on the Romulan starship under the tutelage of her Grandmother, the Senator Verelan t’Rul... and later Riov Dalia Rendal, of the Tal’Shiar.

While she likely wasn’t going to be strapped to a chair and questioned, nor any additional family executed to try and break her, the entire affair felt far too familiar already. Her loyalty to Starfleet was being challenged, and now she would have to defend herself. Much like on the Warbird, she felt she was going to do so largely by herself, even after a patented Rita Paris speech to see her off, declaring that she was not alone in this, all of them would be advocating for her throughout this affair, and that she would be fine if she 'just stayed true to herself'.

As the runabout landed on one of the landing pads of Starfleet Command in San Fransisco, Mnhei’sahe didn’t have much of a smile to spare for the massive twin towers with the glittering delta in the center. She had never been particularly fond of Earth in general, and was feeling that even less so at the moment. Given that she was being escorted as she was beamed inside under guard, feeling very much like a prisoner once again.

Beaming into the main lobby was what she expected, but there was a secure beam-in pad on the third floor they directed her landing party to instead. Once arrived, she was walked down the upper corridor, where she could see the main lobby below. Lining the walls on either side were dozens of transporters as visitors and dignitaries beaming in and out with all the hustle and bustle of any large transport hub. As they arrived at the end of the overlooking corridor, there stood an officer with two gold and one black pips on their crimson uniform, with a PaDD in hand, waiting attentively. He was a tall, lean-built human that looked to Mnhei’sahe to be about 45 at the most. His graying, thinning sandy blond hair was brushed over to the side to make it appear more significant than it was, and he looked over the short, slightly portly young woman and her rather large retinue with an unmistakably disapproving eye.

“Good morning, Lieutenant Dox. My name is Lieutenant Commander Percey Garney. I am the Starfleet Legal Council assigned to you by the Judge Advocate General's Office. I will be overseeing your processing, and will be accompanying you to your various debriefings.” The fussy, slightly irritated sounding man said with a sigh, looking as if he would rather be anywhere but where he was at the moment.

He offered no handshake or other hollow pleasantries and Mnhei’sahe’s arms remained folded behind her back as she looked him over with equal levels of judgment as she replied flatly, “Good morning, Lieutenant Commander Garney. Lead the way.”

Behind her, Dox was reasonably certain the Klingon sisters communicated their disapproval in a pair of low, short growls to one another.

From there, she found herself having to deal with a different kind of gauntlet as she was processed through the paperwork and procedures of Starfleet Command. Hours being shuffled from one waiting room to the next, and she had begun to lose track of how many times she had said: “Dox, Mnhei’sahe. Lieutenant, Starfleet. United Federation of Planets. Service Number, SC414339-797064.”

And while most of her meetings would be at the separate Starfleet Intelligence Facility on the edge of the compound, her processing and paperwork was to be filled out here, at Starfleet Command itself. It was for that first meeting that she now had to attend, which she was informed her retinue would not be allowed. As this contradicted their direct orders from their Captain, the Klingon security officers were having none of it until Admiral Meowlith called, identified herself, and directly ordered the two officers to stand down and comply, as she was next in their chain of command. Apparently the 'last lawful order' rule had been suspended in their minds for this occasion, and they were accepting only orders from within their specific chain of command when it came to the Lieutenant's safety.

Which did not earn them nor her any points with the Lieutenant Commander from legal. But it was in unspoken agreement that none of the Hera crew particularly cared about his opinion nor protestations. After hours of signing in, processing, waiting and preparation, Garney lead her to a separate transporter room. As the two of them stepped on, after clearance was granted, they vanished in a sparkle of blue and white to reappear in another closed room somewhere else.

The transporter operators and the guards at the chamber doors were all in the familiar gray uniforms that Mnhei’sahe was accustomed to seeing her mother and the Hera’s Intel Chief, Lieutenant Clemens wear. They were clearly now inside Starfleet Intelligence.

Stepping off the PaDD, Garney gestured for her to wait where she was as he stepped over and showed his paperwork to the two guards, and there was mumbling and whispering that she assumed that they thought she couldn’t hear. Of course, with her remarkably delicate Rihannsu ears, she heard every banal word. It was nothing more than a security check-in handled as if it was the galaxy’s greatest secret, and while Mnhei’sahe had wanted to roll her eyes, she resisted the urge. If she could maintain a blank, emotionless facade with Riov Rendal while imprisoned on a Romulan starship, she could certainly do so here and now.

After a bit more exchange, Garney waved her over, and she followed as he and the two grey-uniformed guards she was now accompanied by, courtesy of Intel, escorted her to a secure turbolift at the end of the somewhat dark corridor outside the transporter room. After a bit of walking through the labyrinthine structure, she was taken to the waiting room of the first set of meetings with the Admiralty.

The Admiral’s office was on the 27th level of the tower with a waiting room overlooking the quad and beyond it, the bay. Mnhei’sahe stood, arms folded behind her back, looking out those large windows as the view of the planet she was trying not to resent being on. At the main door of the waiting room, the two guards stood silently.

On the small couch across from the window’s, Commander Garney sat, ramrod straight, reading through his PaDD, occasionally making light ‘harumphing’ sounds that Mnhei’sahe ignored. Moments later, and right on time, the double doors of the office wooshed open and a young human woman in gold came out with a pleasant smile, “Lieutenant Dox, the Admiral will see you now.”

Turning, Mnhei’sahe returned the pleasant smile, the first she had seen in hours, and nodded. “Thank you.” as she and Garney followed the young woman through a smaller chamber where her administrative desk was and then through another set of doors into the Admiral’s office. The room was fairly large and casually appointed. Very little personal effects save for a few family photos and a couple of potted plants near the edges of the windows behind the desk. The desk itself was large and very well organized. There were three chairs in front of the desk. The center chair was empty, but standing next to the two on either end were two officers in Admiral’s uniforms. And behind the desk, the Admiral in question, standing and waiting with a neutral expression.

"Lieutenant Dox? Let's begin. Why don't you start at the beginning..."

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

Hours later, the day had passed in a flurry of bureaucracy and endless questions, repeated, rephrased, redirected and redacted. Just when Dox felt she couldn't take it anymore, she was released for the day, on her own recognizance. Transported back to Starfleet Command, her two bodyguards snapped to attention, waiting patiently for her- which was impressive for Klingons.

"We are to escort you to an E-tal-e-an restaurant to meet with the Captain and Commander, sir. Are you prepared to travel?" V'Nus asked.

Cracking the first legitimate smile of the day, the fatigued young Lieutenant rolled her neck out which popped a few times as she knitted her eyebrows. "I am beyond prepared, Miss Wil'I'Ams, thank you. And beyond hungry, so Italian actually sounds wonderful. Lead the way, and please, at ease."

Heading to the public transporter pads on the lower level, all three women exited Starfleet Command with as much speed as was reasonable to show. Mnhei'sahe couldn't wait to be done with this for the day and was happy that the Wil'I'ams sisters were there, waiting. And after another twenty minutes involving transfer to a small security shuttle that flew the Lieutenant and her retinue into the glistening lights of San Fransisco, they had arrived.

The extensive debriefings had taken all day and night had fallen before Mnhei'sahe had left the complex and the city looked more inviting to her than it ever had before as the shuttle dropped them off. Walking the rest of the way, the trio turned more than a few heads as they approached their destination. A Romulan flanked by two Klingons, all in Starfleet uniforms was not an everyday site, even at the heart of the Federation.

The Klingon sisters lead the way, based on the directions they had been given and before long, they arrived at a small little Italian restaurant called Paisano's. Stepping inside with her security retinue, Mnhei'sahe quickly spotted Commander Paris and Captain Telvan in a booth at the rear of the busy restaurant that smelled heavenly to the hungry woman. Seeing both women, it felt like being rescued all over again as she walked over.

"Miss Dox, glad you could join us," Rita Paris offered with a smile, then she addressed her Security team. "Petty officers, if you would be so kind as to take a seat with appropriate tactical vantage, cover us while we take a meal, please, but we'll need a hint of privacy. We need to be off-duty officers and not sterling examples right now, understood?"

Nodding silently, both sisters scanned the restaurant, each choosing a different spot. Rather than argue, they split up, to better cover more vantage points and be prepared for a situation to arise.

Picking up a slice of fresh-baked bread and smearing butter on it, Paris offered it to the beleaguered pilot. "So how was your first day of retelling the same story a few dozen times?"

Taking the bread offered and trying to not look like she wanted to just snatch it out of her hand, Mnhei'sahe sat down in the free seat and took a bite. As she did, the bread tàsted like the greatest thing ever. "Fvadt. I don't know if that's actually as good as it seems, or if it's just because they skipped lunch."

Taking a moment to savor the piece of delicious bread, Mnhei'sahe answered Rita's question. "It was exactly as thrilling as you would imagine. Nine hours of variations on the same few questions by three Admirals and… honestly… they were less interested in the answers than in how I said them, I think. Three Admirals out of the twelve in total on my schedule."

"Well, you might be surprised by how many of them speak Romulan, so you may want to curtail the casual cursing," Rita offered as practical advice. "When no one understands it, you can get away with it, but for the next few days, just watch yourself, okay? They are looking for the subtlest of cues and clues, so don't give them any. Be yourself, but not THAT much of yourself, understood?"

As she spoke, Rita was already flagging down a waiter, who arrived only to have the order dictated to him in an authoritative no-nonsense style by the ancient astronaut in the out-of-date uniform. Apparently they were eating 'family style' tonight, whatever that meant, but the appetizers arrived immediately- breaded fried cheese with a splash of sauce over the top of them, sprinkled with Parmesan cheese, alongside mushrooms stuffed with a pesto made of olives and goat cheese. A bottle of red wine was delivered, dry port wine that accented the flavors surprisingly well.

Eying the wine but deciding against it even though she knew it was likely synthaholic, Mnhei'sahe stuck with the glass of water the server brought out. Which didn't stop her at all as she dug quite firmly into the appetizers as they arrived. She had smiled nervously and blushed green a bit at Rita's advice as she reminded herself that since the mission, her extremely human Commander and friend now understood and could speak Rihan. She now needed to monitor that particular bad habit a bit more closely.

"I admit, I'm been trying to say as little as is possible beyond directly answering questions. But they did keep angling to get… reactions out of me. Leaning a little heavy on the word 'Romulan' as if they know it bothers me, Juggling between personal and possessive pronouns." Mnhei'sahe replied, taking a bite of the fried cheese and being careful to monitor not only her words, but how she said them. When she had first arrived on earth as a teenager, it had taken her years to learn how to cover-up her accent. But after the last month, it had been leaking back out and she was extremely self-conscious about it, even here with her closest friends.

Taking a moment to collect her thoughts, a luxury she could enjoy here in the presence of friends, the Rihannsu pilot continued. "it was something they did on the Warbird as well. Using "us" versus "them" terminology. On the Warbird they tried to get me to identify with their side and the language leaned that way as a result. Get me to say "we", or "us" when referring to the Rihannsu people as a way of shifting my point of view. Cultural indoctrination."

Taking a sip of water, Mnhei'sahe's tone got a bit more serious. "Here, it was to… provoke. To elicit a reaction, it seemed. They would refer to Starfleet and the Federation using "our" and "we", but use "your" and "yours" when referring to the Star Empire. Every word choice was a test of my loyalties. Which felt… exactly like it did on the Warbird.

"It's very deliberate, and yes, you read it right- they are trying to provoke a reaction out of you," Rita agreed, cutting up one of the stuffed mushrooms and speaking in between bites. "They really want to see you lose your cool and curse them out in Romulan, so they have an excuse. Because this is a series of tests. Loyalty tests, stress tests, tests of the veracity of your stories, tests of your character, tests of your patience. Just remember the game that you're playing, and remember their perspective. They're afraid. You left a dedicated Starfleet officer, and they fear that you've returned a Romulan officer with Starfleet rank, who could do a lot of damage in the right position."

"I've been through it a time or two myself," Rita admitted, pouring a small bit of wine for each of them and handing the glasses around. "Not under the same circumstances, but when we were dealing with Admiral Marcus' legacy, and the Vengeance's sister ship the Conquest. That rogue element inside Starfleet was insidious, and it made everyone who had come in contact with that ideology suspect. Even though we were the ones to take him out, we did it with the help of a Romulan ship and crew, who had even rescued some of our people from the remains of the USS Colombia, we still endured weeks of grilling by Starfleet Intelligence and Starfleet Command. Hell, I had to go through it after my own father kidnapped me and tried to brainwash me. That was fun to rehash for a week."

"The long and short here is, Mnhei'sahe, it isn't personal, and you can NOT take it that way. It might feel like they are the enemy, but they're not. And one day it might very well be you sitting on one of those boards interrogating a junior officer to determine without a shadow of a doubt that their loyalties have not shifted, and that they are just an amazing liar. You are a terrible liar, so you are already ahead of the curve," the cheerful commander chuckled, trying to add a bit of levity. "Just remember they aren't the enemy- they are looking out for Starfleet, and making absolutely certain that when they stamp their approval on your record, that they are absolutely certain you are the same dedicated Starfleet officer who was taken from that restaurant."

At that, Paris looked around, then shook her head. "Which may or may not be the most reassuring thing I've said as we sit having dinner in a civilian restaurant. But this is on Earth, in San Francisco, and we have armed and alert guards watching us, and I don't think this is necessarily the best time nor place for paranoia. Instead... ahhh, here comes the pasta."

Baked ziti layered with ricotta cheese and baked with a hot gooey layer of mozzarella on top, a large bowl of spaghetti with marina sauce, a large bowl of linguine with broccoli and garlic, another of linguini smothered in creamy white alfredo sauce, a side of cheese ravioli, a bowl of linguine in white clam sauce, a bowl of sauteed mussels, along with a large side of meatballs and Italian sausages that had been smothered in tomato gravy all arrived, with large serving utensils to make taking what you wanted from the selection easy.

As the food was delivered, Rita spoke briefly to the waiter, in conspiratorial tones, and discretely ordered for the Klingon sisters who likely had no idea what to eat or even if they were supposed to eat on duty. But their section chief had them covered, and soon both would have a very rare steak on their plates with a side of penne pasta, which would likely make them somewhat less distracted by the food all around them, and suit their dietary preferences.

Smiling, Mnhei’sahe was glad the sisters were there and hoped the duty wasn’t too uncomfortable for them as she spared a glance over her shoulder to their table. Turning back to the table, she nodded slightly and thought about the day from that perspective as she looked at her Commander and her Captain. “I have a hard time imagining ever being in that position, all things considered, where I have the authority to interrogate anyone. But I understand. If the situation were different, I would be suspicious of me too I suppose.”

"Unfortunately, that's the kind of talk I've had to face my entire career and today has been no exception, only in relation to my family, of course," Enalia replied as she finished off a couple of the fried mushrooms and cheese appetizers. "All that talk of inclusivity and openness... But they also want to make sure you're not working against the interests of the Federation, a spy, unloyal, or saints forbid, a filthy pirate sow hidden among the fleeters..."

"Suspicion is one thing, but some of them can take it a bit too far," the spotted captain added as she motioned in the air with a particularly tasty bit of fried cheese on it before eating that too. "But then, that's why they're in the position they're in now, right? Making sure to cross every consonant and dot every vowel."

Looking across at the table, Mnhei’sahe couldn’t help but smile. It felt good to know that she wasn’t alone in that. That both women clearly understood what she was dealing with and had been down very similar roads. But more than that, her smile deepened as she dipped a mushroom in the red sauce and took a bite. She had been on the Hera just a little over a year, but realized that this was the first time she had ever sat with both of the women she so admired quite like this. Together as friends first, and officers second.

Which didn’t stop her from being a little confused as to how to approach the style of the meal as she raised an eyebrow. “Uh, Commander. This is… a lot of food. Is… one thing for each of us? What are we supposed to do here?”

“This is designed so that you can take as little or as much as you want of each dish, experimenting with the variety to find favorites. The style of dining is called ‘family style’, where you just put the food on the table and let everyone sort their own choices and eat as much as they like guilt-free. Because after a grueling day of being grilled on ‘why I disguised myself surgically to appear Romulan if that didn’t figure into the rescue plan’ and ‘why are you out of uniform, Commander’ I felt we could all use some carbs and comfort food. So in the tradition of my people, we bond emotionally over food sharing, as Sonak observes.” Grasping the utensils, Rita began serving piles of pasta onto the plates, breaking the seal on the pristine dishes to follow through and demonstrate what she meant.

“Just… please don’t let this sour you on the fleet, or make you feel singled out,” Rita added as she served them. “This is procedure, and it has been in place for a very long time for some very good reasons. I’m sorry that it feels like you are distrusted, and basically no better off than you were in the hands of the Romulans who kidnapped you. Or that you feel persecuted for being a pirate, and having your lifelong loyalty to that organization questioned by the fleet you joined,” she added, gently trying to rebut the captain’s statement as well. “The fleet has a duty and responsibility to the rest of the fleet, to our crew, and to we ourselves to insure that we truly are fit for duty. So try to bear that in mind.”

In that summation, Rita creatively left out the part where she was apparently under a full investigation, given her extradimensional origins, her peculiar relationship with transporters and her inadvertent connections to the DTI. Here and now, her friends and shipmates needed to hear that their problems were not persecution, but procedure. The last thing she needed was for them to become defensive of Rita herself, which they would if they knew she were under siege. After all, she was a big girl and this wasn’t her first rodeo. Besides, it was fun explaining to admirals that she’d been bounced on the knees of their grandfathers and was more familiar with their careers and habits than their descendants. Not terribly productive, but entraining for her as they worked to discredit her.

In the here and now, though, she shoveled some more pasta on plates to encourage her alien friends not to be shy, and did what she could to put them both at ease. It was practically impossible not to feel defensive when one was being debriefed at this level, but she had to try. Negative attitudes would be entirely counterproductive to the process, and she needed them calm and centered for the ordeal. Thus, hearty Earth girl food was the best remedy she had to offer… combined with her patented cracker-barrel philosophy.

Looking over everything, the salty mussels caught Mnhei’sahe’s nose and her attention as she looked them over, putting a scoop of them on her own plate to try, doing her level best not to dwell on the negative and take Rita’s words to heart. “Well… I had no idea I’d like sushi until I tried it, so here goes.” Taking a minute to look over the shelled mollusks, Mnhei’sahe eventually figured out how to get one out of the shell and onto her fork as she took a bite. As she did, her eyebrows went up with a slight smile. “Mmm, this is… I like these. I’ll have to get the recipe for the Replicator, or tell Mona about… whatever these are.”

Changing the subject slightly, Mnhei’sahe took another bite and continued, “So, did anyone else have a legal aide from the JAG office assigned to them?” She was curious, but also noticed that Rita was not mentioning her own day and wanted to feel around before prying.

“Not me,” the blonde bombshell admitted. “I suspect DTI is going to show up like an unwelcome visitor at some point, given the three-hour explanation I had on extrapolations of interdimensional metaphysics and relative timeflow. The snorts of disbelief and skeptical scoffing quieted down when I presented my EVA armor’s logs as evidence of a few of the encounters I’d used it in on Kathoom, along with some of the exotic mineral samples I brought back with me that my suit’s scanners couldn’t identify. After that they seemed to be a little more inclined to believe that I’m not a very detail-oriented delusional.” Scooping out some of the linguine in white clam sauce, the savory scent made Rita’s mouth water as she offered sample size bowls to her shipmates before taking the rest of the large bowl for herself.

“As much as they’d like to dismiss my experiences and adventures, I think I may have changed their definition of ‘impossible’ to merely ‘improbable’ when it comes to ‘why Rita shouldn’t be beamed at Warp 9.2’. So I’m giving thanks to Professor Gill, who taught us back at the Academy that history is written by the winners, unless there is appropriate documentation to prove otherwise.” Rita chuckled at her own joke before spinning a fork in the pasta and taking a rather oversized bite, savoring the warmth and the flavor as she relaxed and sighed contentedly.

“Well, you’re not missing out on anything if the wonderful disposition of my legal aide is any indication." Mnhei’sahe chuckled, digging into her smaller bowl of the linguine and taking a fairly big bite as she continued, "What about you, Captain? Anyone from the JAG office assigned to you?”

Enalia could barely keep from groaning in delight as she first sampled each of the dishes on the table, then in dismay as she thought back at the day she'd gone though. "Three of them, and a call from you know who the umpteenth with a request to take up your whole day and scan the Hera's transporter systems. I told him to schedule it through Yeoman Dedjoy. At least she has the patience to listen to him fin-ish... his... sen... ten... cessssuh...."

Knitting her eyebrows quizzically, Dox tilted her head as she sampled the Alfredo. She, in fact, did not know the 'who' in question was in this case. "Uh... Who are we talking about?" She asked slightly awkwardly

"Agent Alden Engstrom the Thirteenth, Director of Classified Investigations at DTI. Hope that you never have to meet him," Enalia explained before poking some Italian sausage into her mouth and savoring the flavor.

"DTI? Ahh, the Department of Temporal Investigations. Right." Mnhei'sahe said nervously, skirting around the fact that when the crew of the Hera went back in time a week prior to Earth's official First Contact, she had been outed as an Alien in full view of dozens of humans.

“Don’t listen to her, he’s a delight!” Rita giggled, fetching a garlic knot from the freshly delivered basket and tearing it open, savoring the scent. “Imagine if your most boring professor at the Academy took downers and sucked on a lemon, then shoved it up his rear. That basically sums him up. Yeah, I expect he and I will get to have a wonderful discussion again, though likely not on the roof of Starfleet Command this time. I guess with officers like me whose existence violates laws of time, space and existence, we must cause him an enormous pile of paperwork. So I don’t imagine he’s very fond of me, for good reasons. Yet he’ll likely follow up with an innnnnnter-view, because he wants… to know… preCISE..ly… how… I accomplished… my latest…” Rita paused for a full four count before finishing with, “Misadventuuuuure…”

"He's all yours then," replied Enalia, stifling a giggle. "I have enough on my plate since the admiralty chose to interrogate me about the tribunal now as well, which is where the third lawyer comes in."

Letting out an overly knowing chuckle, having spent hours assisting Death herself in re-writing the fates of lives that were originally set to end if not for Rita's actions changing their fate, Mnhei'sahe shook her head and sighed. "I suppose we all have a few… interesting days to look forward to. They're all making up for lost time, it seems."

"Oh, come on now, ladies. We're on Earth! My home planet, hell, my home town! I mean, a lot has changed in 130 years one universe over... like the city not having a mammoth starship plow into it 132 years ago..." Rita paused to frown at that memory, the quickly brightened up again, then raised her wine glass.

"Here's to us, ladies. We've good careers on a good starship, with a damn fine crew, answering to an admiral who covers our backsides while we do the improbable. Sure, we're answering a lot of questions now, but the innocent have nothing to hide. So this too shall pass," Rita let slip a sly smile. "What will not pass is that we're here at the center of it all, Starfleet Command, the seat of the Federation, the great melting pot that we preach to the rest of the galaxy seen in living, breathing action. Look around. You'd be hard-pressed to find another Earth native human here, although I would wager some of the other races might have been born on Earth. It works... this great galactic belief that we can all get along, and celebrate one another."

At that, Rita raised her glass in salute to the Klingons, who vigilantly noticed, exchanged a glance then raised their own glasses of water in return, and chugged them like Bloodwine. It was unclear if they had heard their Commander, but they clearly recognized the intent of the salute of raising one's glass to another. The Commander honored them, so of course they showed her honor in return- two very different cultures, that could still be easily understood one a very basic level. "What brings us together are our similarities, but our unique characteristics enrich us all. Infinite diversity in infinite combinations, as the wise man says."

"So the pirate princess, the sensitive Romulan and the throwback are all here together today. Collected here on terra firma. Shipmates who became friends, who became family who'd walk through fire for one another. We're none of us alone, and our families are growing. On that starship of secrets and wonders out there, exploring the galaxy one trouble spot at a time... our home." Rita eyed both women in turn, then lit up that thousand-watt smile that warmed the hearts of those who witnessed it- a radiant, genuinely happy smile.

"They can probe us and question us and try to trip us up, but we're the ladies of the Hera. Officers all, and heroes twice over again. Here's to us, my band of sisters." Having held her drink up all this time, Rita gestured with it, teasingly indicating this was the time to toast.

On her face there was an awkward but sincere smile as Mnhei'sahe lifted her glass. Among the friends that not only never judged her for her heritage, but helped her embrace it for herself… she gave a toast of her own which she hoped would say what she was thinking about them all in that moment: "Ih na shikaen mnean'khruae, aeu solaere mnevher'khruae mnei'dhaile."

Then, even knowing they both now knew the language, with a deep smile, she repeated herself in Federation standard: "To the family we discover, that helps us discover ourselves."

With her usual grin, Enalia too raised her glass in a toast. "To friends that remind us of the song in our hearts, when we ourselves forget the words. They are the truest form of family."

The glasses clinked together, and in the old Earth tradition shared by many cultures across the stars, the pact was sealed. Their lives would take them in different directions, and they would not always be together as they were here and now. But in their hearts, each would carry some of the other with them, as family forged amongst the stars.

On the Hera, parked at Jupiter Station, there was a minor air of concern. Much of the senior staff was off ship, and while the majority of the crew simply assumed they were docked for shore leave, a small handful of officers and personnel knew better. They knew that the Captain, Commander Paris, and Lieutenant Dox were at Starfleet Command defending their careers in light of the recent kidnapping of the Romulan Lieutenant and her mother, and the Captain and Commander’s decision to infiltrate ch'Rihan itself to rescue her.

Standing in the Conference room and observation lounge set just behind the bridge of the mighty Starship, the Lieutenant’s mother, Independent Intelligence Operative Jaeih Dox, was waiting for her own interrogation and debriefing.

Looking out the window to the stars beyond with her arms behind her back, she was glad to still be on the Hera. Captain Telvan had made arrangements for her debriefing to be held on the Hera itself, keeping the Romulan woman who had been a prisoner of Starfleet Intelligence for 16 years from having to willingly walk back into her former prison. She was beyond grateful, though her face was impassionate and as controlled as always. And as always, she wore her gray Intel uniform without rank pips. But instead of the custom Rihannsu commbadge that Rita Paris had made especially for her, she wore a basic Starfleet commbadge. Considering that it was her loyalty to the ship that was in question after her month on a Tal’Shair controlled Warbird, there was no reason to give her interrogator any negative ideas out the proverbial gate.

Behind Mrs. Dox, the doors wooshed open and she turned around, assuming that her interrogator was early. Instead, in the doorway stood young Trill woman. The woman had a small, athletic build with fine spots and a pixie cut, and Jaeih looked her over quickly, observing every detail she could see. The woman wore an Artan comm badge over her left breast and the Federation Defense Attorney pin on her Artan collar. Her suit was the general design worn by many in the legal defense profession across the galaxy that Jaeih had seen MANY times over the years, but her collar was decidedly and clearly that of the Artan’s. Immediately, the elder Intel Operative was intrigued.

"Jolan'tru." Jaeih said plainly, a standard Rihannsu greeting. "I take it you are not the Federation representative sent to... debrief me?"

"Jolan'tru. Indeed not," Dana Nyn replied, a hint of a piratical grin showing as she handed an Artan datapad to the elder Dox woman. I'm your legal representative from the Atan Privateers. You're now an official citizen of the Artan Empire and a member of Baroness Mnhei'sahe Dox's crew. Backdated to right before the kidnapping for political and legal reasons, of course. As a citizen of another civilization, if you feel uncomfortable at any time over any question, you don't have to answer, ok?"

Glancing down at the PaDD, Jaeih raised an eyebrow at the young Trill woman as she spoke, "I understand, thank you. Well. En… pardon… Captain Telvan wastes no time. Nor does she do anything in half-measures, it seems. And this should hold up well considering the records of the tribunal will corroborate my place with my daughter's crew. Does the Captain anticipate that I will need you in these proceedings, Miss…?"

"Dana Nyn. Yes, unfortunately. Much pressure has already been placed on her by the admiralty for refusing to allow your debriefings to take place at Starfleet Command, however, the Queen was quite adamant that as a civilian of another faction, you had certain rights that she was determined to protect. As such, I too am here to ensure that those rights are protected both within the legal bounds of Federation law and Artan code."

"Well, I will say that I am glad to not have to go back there for this, Miss Nyn. I can imagine that they would like little more than the most basic of excuses to rescind the commutation of my sentence." Jaeih looked back at Nyn, folding her hands with the PaDD behind her back as she began to pace slightly. "Now, since I have you as a resource, I'm curious. While this is supposed to simply be a debriefing, have you any idea if there are to be any charges or allegations pressed against me in this?

Dana clasped her hands in front of her as she stepped up to one of the windows looking out across Jupiter Station. "I'm sure they'll hang on every word looking for anything that you did or said while in captivity that may be detrimental or harmful to the Federation in any way. However, if they want to commute any punishment of any sort, they'll have to process any such requests through the extradition agreements between the Federation and the Artan Privateers... Which are currently being rewritten. On top of which, as you have committed no crime by Artan law..." Here, Dana grinned once more towards Jaeih. "You are fully protected by Code, which also covers you by Federation amnesty law. The Queen has also expressed a great interest in you as an Artan asset and would be quite put off if the Federation demanded anything... untoward... of you."

Then the younger Trill woman became calm and spoke in a more calm and sedated tone. "She may not be anywhere near as ruthless as her mother, but after seeing her leverage her power like that yesterday, I was almost afraid they were going to demand she resign her commission for being too aggressive. After all, she's both the Queen of a privateer empire trying to claim and stabilize a very dangerous part of space and the Captain of one of the largest and most classified ships in Starfleet. That would be the definition of conflict of interests if she wasn't doing her best to maintain a close divestment of those two sides of herself."

"Then this should be as brief of a meeting as mine with Commander Paris. For all intents and purposes, I said nothing for the first two weeks. I talked only with my daughter and Senator t'Rul in the third week and was in hiding for the last week. Very little was said and they asked nothing of me, nor tried to interrogate me. Their interest was... and likely still is... in my daughter, which I'm sure you well know. Still, the Captain is putting herself out considerably for me in this affair."

Pausing for a moment, Jaeih turned with a more serious expression. "What of that? Will her efforts on mine and my daughter's behalf become problematic for her? CAN Starfleet come after her commission? This ship?"

"She has a few who seem to not be overly fond of her, but she has quite a few allies in Intel Command, Science Command, and Services Command that are keen on seeing her remain in her position." Dana nodded before turning to face Jaeih fully, looking up to her with a hint of mischief in her eyes. "The Artans supply more than Romulan Ale to the Federation, after all. We forward all scientific studies and reports, we share most of our intel we gather, and many materials that can't be replicated, we are able to obtain in abundance. Not to mention keeping the major shipping lanes clear and answering every distress signal we can in our area of responsibility. The intel we got from the late Queen's crew on the syndicate after the tribunal alone is likely enough to keep you, the Queen, and Baroness Dox in the clear for the rest of your lives."

Raising an eyebrow and allowing herself the hint of a smile for the benefit of Dana Nyn, Jaeih replied with just a hint of her own unique brand of friendly sarcasm she shared with only a select few. "Well then, let us not allow me to upturn that particular lehe'jhme cart by saying or doing anything foolish."
Then her tone shifted slightly as she pondered something, "I suspect that what I say may have less impact on me and more on my daughter and the Captain. Anyone with allies also has enemies and this may be a fact-finding expedition to collect ammunition against her as I think of it." Then her eyes narrowed slightly as her sensitive ears twitched slightly. "It's time."

As she spoke, the doors wooshed open and Petty Officer Liu, the Hera security officer who had fought at Jaeih's side during the tribunal, led a slightly portly, balding, middle-aged Starfleet representative in a crimson uniform with a lightly disgusted expression and a set of PaDD's under his arm. As the representative stepped into the room, Jaeih caught Liu shooting the man a glare as the door wooshed closed, giving the Rihannsu operative the slightest of smiles.  

Looking from Jaeih to Nyn, the dumpy human scowled. "Ladies. My name is Lieutenant Commander Carlton Corbin. I have been sent by Starfleet for this debriefing, so let's try and get this over with. Hello again, Miss. Nyn. Am I to take it by your presence that the Artan's will be flexing their muscles in these proceedings?"

Dana Nyn imperceptibly bristled at the comment and stood up straighter as she looked up into the taller man's eyes. "I'm only here to protect the rights of Artan citizenry. If you do not give a reason to, the Artans will have no need to... 'Flex our muscles' as you put it."

Letting out a contemptuous hrumph, Corbin laid his stack of PaDD's down and took a seat, gesturing for Jaeih and Dana to do the same on their side of the table. As they did, he looked at the first PaDD for a moment as everyone settled. And once ready, he wasted no time in cutting to the chase.

Looking down at his PaDD the entire time, Corbin began, speaking flatly. "Mrs. Dox, Starfleet intelligence has read and reviewed your written report, the reports of Lieutenant Dox and her... ongoing debriefings. We have reviewed Ensign Gonadie's report of the Enox VI incident, henceforth referred to as 'the abduction and we have watched the security footage of your debriefing with Commander Paris abord the extraction vessel. Incidentally, we have reviewed her report, along with that of Captain Telvan. That all said, I will not be asking you for a recitation of those events. Instead, we would like to focus on the specifics of the abduction."

Then he turned his eyes up towards the elder Rihannsu, "Specifically, your killing of three reported Romulan agents. You are not a Starfleet officer. You are not officially sanctioned to carry out such actions in any capacity as I see it looking at your status. You've no so-called 'license to kill', Mrs. Dox. Would you care to elaborate."

As if she had been prepared for this eventuality, Jaeih folded her hands and replied matter-of-factly. "My status on this ship is as an independent operative serving under the Intelligence department. My general duties involve, largely, cryptography and covert intelligence gathering. While I am not a Starfleet officer, I AM subject to the command structure of the ship, making every commissioned officer on this ship my superior."

Talking the slightest of breaths, she continued. "As an independent operative, I am empowered to act on behalf of those officers and in their defense when they are incapable of doing so. On Enox VI, I defended two superior officers to the best of my ability from an attacking force. As the attackers were Rihannsu Tal'Shiar agents and identified themselves as such to my satisfaction by evoking my former rank within that organization, their incursion into Trill space could be considered an act of war in violation of Neutral Zone treaty. Ergo, Casus belli,I believe, is the Latin term. They were in the process of committing an act of, and I quote, "an event that provokes or is used to justify war." I acted to prevent that. Under which, the killing of enemy combatants is legally justified."

Looking as though he barely listened, Corbin turned towards Nyn with a raised eyebrow. "Do the Artan's have anything to say in this matter, Miss Nyn?"

Without hesitation, Niss Nyn gave a seemingly prepared statement. "As the events of the abduction happened on a world under the protection of the Artans and all but abandoned by the Federation since the Dominion War and records show that all actions by my client were taken in the best interests of defense of herself and two Starfleet officers against a hostile and known threat, it is the official stance of the Artan governing body to fully support Mrs Dox. Furthermore, it is the stance of the Artan governing body that her actions mitigated the possibility of war not only with the Federation, but with the Artans as well and allowed the Artans to root out a Tal'Shiar spy that had found its way into the ranks."

"Mrs. Dox was in captivity when the so-called spy was rooted out, so let us not give her too much credit here, Miss Nyn." Corbin groaned slightly as he replied through half-lidded eyes looking at Nyn. "And I would like to see the documentation that claims this woman as an ARTAN citizen if you would be so kind."

Already prepared, Dana tapped her datapad on and slid it over to the unsavory Starfleet personnel officer. "As you can see, her paperwork for citizenship was processed the day prior to the abduction. She was to be officially notified of the completion of her request once she and her party had returned from their trip. As for the discovery of the spy, the abduction itself is what we attribute it to, not to Mrs. Dox herself. I recommend you review the full reports of the rescue... If you are cleared to do so."

Raising an eyebrow, Corbin chuckled mirthlessly, "I have FULL clearance, thank you very much. So... A whole day in advance. How... fortuitous. And convenient for you, Mrs. Dox. How many citizenships is this now? With the Romulan Empire, the Federation and now the Artans?"

"Just the two, Mr. Corbin. And one was put upon me as a Starfleet prisoner. However, my name was written and burned three times in the Rihannsu Senate. My house name was undone and my citizenship revoked. As for my Artan citizenship, that was formally declared at Captain Telvan's tribunal... five months ago when I joined under the Lieutenant. It's all in the paperwork, I trust, which I can only assume took a bit of time to finalize." Jaeih replied, backing up the claim and, by default, accepting the offer Nyn had made with a slight smirk cracking her cold facade. 

Pausing to look over the documentation, Corbin narrowed his gaze as he finished. "And there's still the matter of your so-called escape from custody that enabled you to contact the Hera covertly. How did you accomplish something our best communications analysts couldn't?"

"Nonsense." Jaeih replied dismissively, just to jab at the man a bit. "Your best communications analysts are on this ship. I work closely with the Captains Yeoman, Ila Dedjoy. I simply crafted a message I knew she would see the patterns in. Perhaps you should also review HER report so you have all the viable information, Mr. Corbin. You see, she and I discussed my research into code ciphers hidden in the rhyming meter of poetry over coffee after work. So, I masked my message in an encryption using rhyming schemes of the poetry of her people. Rihannsu wouldn't recognize the pattern, but a very, very smart Ilirian woman would and did. It's really quite simple."

"I believe Lieutenant Commander Sonak also filed a report to corroborate the validity of my techniques. He too is quite knowledgable in such areas." Jaeih smirked ever so slightly as Corbin bristled, then replied not to Jaeih but to her attorney. 

"And what is the position of the Artans in trusting information from a former Tal'Shair operative with clear ties to their government through her compromised daughter?" He barked slightly, trying to goad a reaction.

Without even blinking, Miss Nyn replied professionally and calmly. "If such a circumstance were to arise, it would be addressed in a swift and effective matter. As the Artan governing body uses methods of lie detection that even the Tal'Shiar are unable to evade, we have currently found no evidence of such a statement being true."

Listening, Jaeih watched Corbin out of the corner of her eye while pretending to look at her defender. His body language cues were suspicious and she decided to press back a little. While the attack on her daughter's integrity had angered her, she kept her calm facade firmly in place and replied. "I am a FORMER Tal'Shiar operative, Mr. Corbin. And a FORMER smuggler. And, if you will review your own records you will see that I was rather firmly punished by the Rihannsu government for betraying the Tal'Shiar in the defense of Rihannsu reunificationists on Fvuras VI. And I both served my time with Starfleet for my smuggling and have been quite invaluable in the sixteen years since serving as a cryptoanalyst and telling you everything that I know about cloaking technology, which is considerable. So, unless your intention is to prosecute me for crimes for which I have already been punished and released for, please let me know what it is you think I've done now?"

Flustered, Corbin scowled as he responded quickly. "I'll be blunt, Mrs. Dox. This ship exists beyond levels of top-secret and Intel Command has serious concerns regarding the presence of two Romulan's living and working on it. Admiral Forsyth requires certain assurances that the both of you can be trusted here under a Captain with more than her own fair share of conflicts of interest, and so far I remain UNCONVINCED!"

"So... nothing then. Good, does that mean we're finished?" Jaeih replied with a deadpan calm, disregarding his rant and focusing, instead, on the fact that he had not mentioned anything other than his own racially motivated speculation. 

"I'LL TELL YOU WHEN I'M FINISHED, MRS. DOX! Corbin shouted. From outside the door, Jaeih could hear Petty Officer Liu shuffling as she clearly heard it and was preparing to act if necessary. But then, Corbin took a breath and sat back. And after a moment, eyes darting between the two calm women, he let out the breath and continued.

"As of this time, Starfleet Intelligence is... satisfied. And your continued services as an independent operative aboard the Hera will be allowed to continue. How that proceeds, however, will depend on you." Corbin leaned forward ever so slightly. "Just know that we will be keeping  a very close eye on you and the Lieutenant moving forward."

But rather then reply to the bait, Jaeih sat back, and turned towards her Artan defense to make any final statements on her behalf. It was a silent head nod she presumed would be understood.

With a sickeningly sweet grin, Dana Nyn stood and came around the conference room table, for all the world, shepherding the Starfleet officer as if she were a herding dog and her were a sheep, talking in sickeningly sweet tones the whole way. "Thank you for your time. I believe you've taken up enough of my client's own valuable time and must ask that you now excuse us. If you have any further questions or complaints, please direct them to the Artan governing body's Federation Embassy in the Kabul system and we will address them in the order in which they are received."

Stepping over to the door to show Corbin out, the door wooshed open while the irate officer grabbed his PaDD's, eyeing Jaeih the whole time. While he did, Nyn gestured to Petty Officer Liu, who had been waiting just outside. "Miss Liu, was it? Do you mind terribly, escorting Mister Corbin away? Thank you again. I just want to express my sincerest and most heartfelt..."

As soon as the door closed, Dana's facade dropped and she turned back to Jaeih with a sigh of relief. "Honestly, that went better than I had hoped."

But Jaeih still watched the door, listening to hear when Corbin and Liu had left through the adjacent turbolift entrance, her face still flat and her eyes narrowed. "Indeed. But I suspect that was because it wasn't about ME. Or even Mnhei'sahe. That was about Captain Telvan, Miss Nyn." Turning to face the Artan attorney, Jaeih looked serious. "As I said earlier, those who have allies have enemies. And my daughter and I were perceived as possible weak spots in the Captain's defenses and I believe we were focused on here for that reason."

Dana crossed her arms, one hand coming up to tap her chin. "Yes, I believe you to be correct. Several of the fleet management seemed to be after her on her first and second day of questioning. I had to lay out the entire legal aftermath of the Tribunal and what we were doing with her divestment of interests once she left the Fortress. As for Admiral Meowlith, I have a theory that she was promoted in the hopes that she would be more amenable to viewing things the way the more conservative Admirals do, but it's only bolstered her confidence. Either way, though she will always be our Queen and Commander Paris will always be the Second of the Artans in many of our eyes now... We are indeed preparing for Elysius to take over fully as Acting Queen in a few months."

Dana glanced up at Jaeih, a look of consternation crossing her face. "Oh, I know, we're rebelling a little, with Magnus' daughter declaring herself only Acting Queen rather than full Queen like Queen Telvan declared. Everyone voted on it from top to bottom and after the stunt in the Tribunal Hall, I'm not surprised. We're not a full-on monarchy, after all."

"All the better, I believe, Miss Nyn." Jaeih said, relaxing her posture slightly. "Acting Queens show humility and deference. And votes are quite desirable and should go a long way towards mending bridges that Arenara so thoroughly burned. At least the Federation will be more comfortable, I'm sure. But we also now have something we didn't before. A name."

Jaeih smirked slightly. "This Corbin reports directly to an Admiral Forsyth. But of one thing, Corbin was right... I'm not Starfleet. I serve this ship for my daughter and for Enalia Telvan. And it is
those interests that concern me and those interests that I serve. Please make whoever needs to be aware, aware of what we learned here, if you would Miss Nyn. This Forsyth deserves a closer look, I suspect."

"I would agree, though as a simple defense attorney and legal advisor, I can only advise you to be careful and not do anything... Illegal..." Dana then glanced down at her chrono and gathered up her datapad. "That being said, I wish you good fortune in your endeavors. I must catch a shuttle in the next few minutes or risk being late for Baroness Dox's meeting with a Vulcan Ambassador about Reunification. As there are Artan interests in play that she's currently unaware of and only one Artan legal counsel has been allowed..."

"It has been an honor meeting you Mrs. Dox. I look forward to meeting you again." With a warm grin and a bow of her head, Dana gave her farewells.

"The honor is mine, Miss Nyn." Jaeih returned the bow and the smile before interjecting. "And, if you have the opportunity... My daughter is currently on communications blackout with the ship. I would be appreciative if you informed her that all is well here. I'm sure she is worried on top of her own concerns. Thank you, and Jolan'Tru."

Then, after another moment, Jaeih Dox found herself alone in the observation lounge. Outside the windows, Jupiter loomed largely. But standing there alone, she suddenly didn't feel so alone anymore. Enalia had advocated for her, claiming her as a citizen of her nascent government just to ensure she would be safe. The crew of the Hera had risked everything to save not just her daughter, but herself. She had family here. She had friends here. It was an almost uncomfortable concept, but in that moment she smiled and started to understand what that delta she was wearing on her chest really meant. Perhaps for the first time.

The first night in-between the first few briefings at Starfleet Intelligence was largely uneventful and pleasant for Lieutenant Mnhei’sahe Dox. Due to the heightened security presence that she had been assigned due to her status as an officer being in question after her month-long captivity on a Romulan warbird, she had been provided quarters on the campus in the visitor’s complex of Starfleet Command. And she wasn't quite alone.

Though she would have greatly preferred her wife, Mona Gonadie, who would be arriving the next day, the first evening was spent in the company of Commander Rita Paris and Captain Enalia Telvan and her security retinue from the Hera, Petty Officers S’Rina and V’Nus Wil’I’Ams. The group had enjoyed a massive meal at a favorite Italian restaurant of Rita’s in San Francisco proper called Paisano’s and they talked about their experiences so far as the three officers that Starfleet wanted to talk to the most.

The Captain and Rita were in for a few days of questions, but Dox’s schedule was filled for the next two weeks at Starfleet Intelligence while virtually everyone in command wanted to ensure she hadn’t been compromised and wasn’t now a Romulan spy. So that meant that after dinner on that first night, Rita and Enalia went to their own assigned quarters early to prepare for the day ahead. And while it was suggested that Dox do the same, sleep wasn't coming for the anxious officer.

While the circumstances were stressful enough, it was another night without her wife and a night on Earth. Sitting awake, staring at the ceiling of her assigned quarters, the silence was deafening. Mnhei'sahe Dox was a spacer. Born and raised on ships, she found that she had a hard time sleeping without the hum of an engine below the deck plates. So that ever-present vibration being missing and there was no soothing thrum from her avian bond-mate to replace it, which meant sleep eluded her.

Getting up and looking at the chronometer on the wall panel, it was only oh Eleven forty-five hours and Dox was restless. So she tossed her uniform back on and decided to get out for a while. Which, of course, meant getting past her security. Not in the literal sense, of course. She wasn't a teenager slipping out anymore, but she also knew that her activities were being heavily monitored by Starfleet while she was there, so it wouldn't be prudent to try and ditch the sisters. And frankly, she liked them and didn't mind the company.

Stepping into the corridor of the 14th floor of the visitors complex, there stood Petty Officer V'Nus Wil'I'ams, at attention as always. The sisters had been assigned the adjoining chamber and, while there was a connecting door between the two, Dox knew at least one of them would be on guard.

"Lieutenant. Is all well?" The tall, lean Klingon security officer in gold said with a raised eyebrow, as Dox stepped out.

"Well enough, Miss Wil'I'ams. I'm simply looking to get out of here for a bit. Go walking. Get a cup of coffee. I'm fairly sure I'll be safe at Starfleet Command headquarters, so you can take a break if you'd like." Dox said, making the offer knowing full well the answer that was forthcoming.

"Absolutely not, Lieutenant. Our orders were explicit from Commander Paris. You are not to be unescorted during your tenure here. However…" V'Nus said with the slightest hint of a smirk, "The Commander anticipated you would wish to engage in such activities after hours. We are authorized to take turns in such eventualities. My sister is sleeping, so I shall escort you wherever you wish to go."

Rolling her eyes slightly, Dox smiled and nodded. "Of course she did. Well, look, I understand you need to do your duty and follow orders, and I don’t want to drag you all over the campus, but I really need to get out of here for a little while. So, thank you.”

“No thanks are necessary, Lieutenant. If my duty is to protect you, then I shall carry out that duty no matter the obstacles or threats.” V’Nus replied with all the verve and passion one would expect from a Starfleet trained Klingon warrior woman.

To which Dox simply smiled and lead the way down the corridor to the lift to the ground floor. “Well, In this case, the obstacles might not be anything more intense than gentle inclines on the walking paths. But if it’s not in here, it’s preferable to me.”

“Very well then. Death to gentle inclines, Lieutenant!” The much taller Petty Officer called out louder than was necessary with the slightest hint of knowing she was being ironic and actually making a joke, to which Dox simply chuckled.

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

It was a cool, breezy night as salty air drifted in from across the bay as Dox and V’Nus made their way across the campus under the bright moonlight, largely in silence. By the edge of an observation platform overlooking the bay, Dox stopped and leaned over the railing to take in the view, doing her best to try and see Rita Paris’ hometown through those eyes rather than the veil of bitterness that she had maintained for years regarding Earth. Standing alertly nearby but not so close as to be intrusive, V’Nus suspiciously eyed a young yeoman walking past that looked ready to pee himself at her threatening glare.

Without even turning to see the exchange, Dox smiled lightly. She knew the Klingon woman well enough. Since she and her sister came aboard the Hera, Dox had been a part of her training. She regularly assisted Rita in combat and hand-to-hand training with the security team, teaching them the Rihannsu martial art of Llaekh-ae'rl and helping both sisters learn to measure their notorious, Klingon tempers. The three women had come to develop sincere respect for each other, and Dox genuinely liked them both. They were a microcosm of the Federation’s charter: People whose respective races would have marked them as enemies becoming friends through the mission of Starfleet.

Of the two sisters, however, V’Nus was the more thoughtful. The more prone to notoriously un-Klingon levels of introspection and self-analysis. As such, she was also more prone to use her words where her sister, S’Rina, was more likely to just punch something. So, as they stood in silence, V’Nus raised an eyebrow and spoke. “Lieutenant, permission to speak freely.”

Turning and leaning back against the railing, Dox nodded with a smile. “Please. I'm off duty. What’s on your mind, Miss Wil’I’Ams?”

Not relaxing her posture in the slightest, V’Nus looked at the much shorter, red-headed Romulan woman with a curious expression. “You seem both stressed and overly preoccupied. You will, doubtless, succeed in reaffirming yourself here. But there is a gymnasium nearby if you wished to spar.”

Chuckling lightly, Dox nodded. “You are very correct. I am, indeed, stressed and preoccupied. And, truth be told, I would love to take you up on that offer. In fact, if my career is intact when this is all over and we’re back home, then that will be a wonderful release. But for now, no. It wouldn’t be… wise.”

“I’m being watched somewhat closely during all of this and I suspect my venting my frustrations violently would be viewed… unsympathetically. Especially considering my academic record here.” Dox added with a smirk and a slight blush that was all but invisible in the moonlight.

But V’Nus picked up on the shift in tone, and took the initiative to press further with a hint of genuinely deep curiosity that Dox noticed. “Your academic record is… violent? While that’s not uncommon in those of us that pursue security, it is… less so for commissioned officers. Is it not?”

Looking over across the shore, the lights of Starfleet Academy twinkled. Dox leaned back over the railing and sighed. “The Academy is generally a four-year program, even for officers. It took me five. Though I doubt this is all that enthralling to you. It’s late, we can just head back.”

“On the contrary, I find this quite... interesting, Lieutenant,” V’Nus added as she stepped a little closer. “Unless you do not wish to do so, I would like to hear more. My sister and I chose the enlisted path rather than go to the academy and try to become officers. In part, this was to appease my Sister’s… impatience. But I will admit that I am… curious of the path we didn’t take.”

It was an honest and revealing comment from the generally reserved, Klingon woman that caught Dox just a bit off guard. Of the two, V’Nus was much more thoughtful, by and large, but the Rihannsu Lieutenant wasn’t expecting anything like this. However, Dox felt a little guilty dragging the woman across the campus to placate her own insomnia, so she nodded and replied. “Very well.”

“It was… three years in at the academy and things were not going well. I mean, academically things were going fine, but on a personal level, I was miserable. I may have wanted to escape being a smuggler and get away from my mother, but it didn't take me long to learn how much I didn't like being stuck on any one planet. It was Starfleet that got me off that smuggling ship and gave me a chance at a life I could choose for myself, so that's where I wanted to be. That was the only life path that seemed like an option.” There was a slightly melancholy tone to Dox’s words there, and clearly, things she wasn’t saying, but V’Nus didn’t press the point and simply listened.

“But I was also still very angry about… well… everything. I didn't look like this then. I was still… well, thanks to what my parents had done to me when I was young, I looked more human than Rihannsu, so it usually took some kind of prodding for that to get out. In high school, it was my accent. I knew English, but barely ever really spoke it growing up so it took years to train myself out of a Rihan accent.” Then Dox looked over to V’Nus for the expected expression and smiled lightly. “Yes, I know it’s been coming back. I’m… working on it.”

“I had not said anything…” The tall Klingon woman commented dryly. “but… I had noticed.”

Looking back with a raised eyebrow and a chuckle, Dox continued. “Well, in high school, it forced questions and I was always looking for a fight back then. So I answered any questions from that position and tended to get what I was looking for.”

“But it got… lonely fast. So, as soon as I could qualify, I joined the academy. Starfleet was supposed to be all about inclusion and togetherness in all the speeches and history lessons, so I hoped things would be different. But it didn't take long to learn that it didn't matter where I was... once it got out that I was ‘Romulan’, everything changed. After high school, I taught myself to try and hide it as much as possible. It worked for a little while. It's not like one's medical records are public knowledge, after all.”

“I got outed in a xenobiology lecture where the professor used me as an… example… of how otherwise incompatible species could procreate. Back then, I didn’t even know that that was a lie. That I wasn’t even really half-human. Regardless, at the time it was… mortifying. Before that, I kept to myself for the most part, but that was by my choice. Afterwards, not so much. My roommate stopped talking to me entirely. Her father was killed by Romulans on the Amargosa observatory and… well… it was a lot of that sort of thing for a while.”

“Near the end of the year, I was just desperate to make connections with anyone. I was… it made me fairly stupid. There was this one human man, and out of nowhere he started being nice to me. Didn't seem to care about my being Rihannsu. He was nice enough, I suppose. Or at least he seemed to be. And I was so lonely I think it could be noticed from orbit. He certainly picked up on it.” At that comment, V’Nus seemed particularly perplexed with Dox being married to a female Miradonian, so Dox paused for a bit of exposition.

“Back then I was still in denial about a lot of things, really. I tried to pretend to not be Rihannsu and I also tried to pretend I wasn't a lesbian. So, I convinced myself that he was what I wanted. Desperation and denial are terrible bedfellows, after all.”

“He was fairly popular. Head of the class in tactical training. And he… liked me. I was just flying without a starship. So, one night, we went off campus on leave. I still… well… I knew people from when I was still smuggling with my mother and had a bad habit of… keeping up those connections. I could get my hands on fairly decent Kali-fal or lehe'jhme wine, and we put back a lot of it that night. I had been… reluctant… to take things with him too far. He… eventually, he talked me into it. He said so many wonderful things. He made me feel alive and… loved. And I wanted to believe it so bad. It was my first time and it was… well… up until that point.” Dox was straight up blushing at the story, barely believing she was telling it. The only person she had ever told this to on the Hera was Mona, and it was not exactly the ‘officer’ thing to do, admitting to such things.

“Anyway, after we… well… afterward, things changed. He just… cut me off completely. Stopped responding to my messages. Didn't even look at me in classes except to occasionally snicker with his friends when he saw me. I was destroyed. Almost dropped out. I had no idea what happened and assumed that I screwed something up. Or that I disgusted him. I was a short, pudgy 'Romulan' girl, after all. Then, he started seeing another student. A particularly shy girl from Bolarus IX. I watched, and he did the same things to her as he had done to me. Treated her wonderfully and she fell for him hard.”

“It took a little digging, since people were not very open to talk to me in general, but I found out about three other girls he had done this to. A Tyrellian, a Caitian, and a Arcturian. I found out he had a list. A list of alien girls to... conquer... and we were all boxes he could check off. I was furious. I tried to warn the Bolarian girl, but she wouldn't believe me. I… confronted him in front of half the class on the quad and he called me a jealous, Romulan slut. A liar from a race of liars. All of which I could deal with... until he put his hands on me. He... ended up in the infirmary with seven broken ribs, a broken hand, a crushed windpipe, and a burst liver. I ended up almost getting kicked out after a disciplinary hearing but got cleared after six months and was able to resume my studies. Eventually, and only after some of the other women came forward and made him look worse than I did by default, especially when it was revealed that he tended to like slipping drugs into his dates drinks to make it easier for him to seduce them. The whole thing put my time in the academy on hold for two semesters and I had to make up the time lost.”

As the specifics of the story ended, Dox stood back up and straightened her uniform top. “And that was just one of my more interesting encounters in the academy. And not the only one that got me put on academic suspension. But, suffice it to say, learning to control my temper was, and continues to be, a bit of a problem for me.”

Taking it all in, V’Nus snorted slightly. “I can imagine. I likely would have simply killed this man had he even attempted something similar. S’Rina… S’Rina would be in a very dark prison indeed had it been her.”

“The point being, I’m being judged not just on their fear that I’ve been compromised by my time on that Warbird, but also on a very long history of barely making it through the academy due to a violent streak that it’s taken me considerable effort to control, Miss Wil’I’Ams.” Dox continued, folding her arms behind her back. "But I'm still here."

“Now, I have a considerable amount of hurdles I need to leap to earn these pips back. But some of them are hurdles I put up for myself. Acting on my anger would be easier. Telling these admirals to go to Areinnye would feel good, but leave me without a career. And it turns out I like my career. I like the good we do on the Hera.”

“What about you, Miss Wil’I’Ams?” Dox asked with an inquisitive tone and a raised eyebrow.

“Lieutenant? I do not… understand the question.” The Klingon woman asked, her eyebrow cricked slightly.

“You mentioned that you and your sister chose the enlisted path because it was faster. Is that still what you want?” It was late and the story had been Dox’s to tell, but she had reasons for sharing and had been paying attention herself. Something V’Nus was slightly unprepared for. “Are you happy as a Petty Officer or are you beginning to feel like you might want more?”

Unprepared for the question, V’Nus actually seemed a little nervous, which was considerably surprising for her as she began to attempt to answer, “My sister felt…”

But Dox stopped her mid-sentence by raising a finger, “Not S’Rina… YOU. I’m curious as to what you want. No pressure. This isn’t an official review. I just noticed the tone in your voice shifted when you mentioned it earlier. And I know a thing or two about wanting more out of life that the lot I’ve been handed. If you’d rather not discuss it, that’s perfectly fine. We can walk back quietly and enjoy the evening as it is. But if you want to talk about it, I am willing to not just be your superior officer.”

There was a moment of silence between the women as the much taller Klingon looked down at the short, stout Romulan she inexplicably respected and had grown to actually like through their occasional sparring, usually peppered with conversation. When she finally replied, it was characteristically simple. “I believe I require more than the confines of my current station allow. I have… considered… applying to become an officer. I feel I can do more in such a capacity. But I fear that as a Klingon, I do not have the… temperament for such a role.”

“I won’t repeat anything that you already know, Miss Wil’I’Ams. You know that there are Klingon Starfleet officers and have been for years. Command level officers, even. And you also know that having an aggressive temper isn’t some uncontrollable beast to be leveraged as an excuse.” Dox said, starting to walk back across the campus as V’Nus followed. “I mean, I didn’t just tell you about my extremely embarrassing, ill-conceived Academy tryst for no reason.”

“Lieutenant?” The petty officer said with a hanging question.

“Yes, I was venting, to a degree. I trust you well enough and consider you a friend and so felt it was acceptable to do so. But there was more than that behind what I told you what I did.” Dox’s pace was casual and calm. She wasn’t trying to be Rita Paris in that moment, but she was trying to be helpful. “I had a feeling that you needed to hear that story. Because I suspected we’d be having this conversation now. And that it might do you good to know that officers have violent tempers too. And that Starfleet doesn’t automatically deny you your potential because of it. I had councilors and teachers that did care enough to help me work through my issues at the academy. And now I have family and good friends to help me. Sometimes, those friends let me punch them when I need to really let it out as well. And it’s taken me years and, as you well know, it’s something I still struggle with. But it’s simply a challenge. An obstacle to be overcome.” Then she smiled as they continued walking up the hill to the complex. “And over time, what starts as a mountain, becomes more like a... gentle incline.”

Pausing for a moment, Dox stopped under a tree and turned to her security escort. “Being a Klingon doesn’t make you too violent to be an officer any more than my being ‘Romulan’ makes me a liar or a spy. We define who and what we are, Miss Wil’I’Ams. And what you are is a woman with many of the qualities that define being a good officer. Chief among them, you cared to ask if I was okay?”

Turning, Dox continued walking and V’Nus followed, commenting, “There are… other factors that might complicate things. Family issues.” As she spoke, she immediately locked down and stopped talking, having said more than she intended to at the moment.

Picking up on it, Dox leaned over and nodded. “Indeed. I don’t know what your family problems are, Miss Wil’I’Ams, nor is it a concern of mine, because we are not our families. I’m not here fighting for my career because my Mother AND Father were Tal’Shiar agents. I’m not here because my grandmother was once a section director for the Tal’Shiar. I’m being judged on my conduct and behavior. And if that behavior is determined to be appropriate, then I will return to the Hera with my rank intact in spite of my family history and connections.”

As they returned to the complex, Dox stopped again while still outside and far enough from any prying ears. “I’m not your section chief, Commander Paris is. My role in the security department is a consulting one. However, if you wish to re-evaluate your career and begin looking into the officer program, I would absolutely put my recommendation behind you, Miss Wil’I’Ams. You would make a fine officer and I suspect that Commander Paris would agree. Just food for thought.”

Turning to look down the campus at the headquarters of Starfleet Command on the edge of the mall, V’Nus harumphed slightly and grinned, “Thank you, Lieutenant. I appreciate your time and your… ear. I will consider your words.”

"No thanks are necessary, Miss Wil'I'Ams. If I could help, then I'm glad for it."

Nothing more needed to be said as Dox gave an approving nod and the two women went back inside. And while her mind was still a mess of concerns and questions about her own future, the red-headed Rihannsu woman felt a little bit better for having gotten out of her own head, if only for a brief time. And sleep finally came a little easier.

The first day at Starfleet Intelligence had been over nine hours of questioning and debriefing by a group of three Admirals. Questions, statements, and provocations designed to test the resolve and, more importantly, the loyalty of Lieutenant Mnhei’sahe Dox. It was exhausting, but when compared to her month-long captivity at the hands of the Tal’Shiar, it had been easy enough to weather for the Rihannsu Starfleet Officer.

At the end of that day, dinner with Commander Rita Paris and Captain Enalia Telvan helped put the entire affair into a better perspective, but to Mnhei’sahe, it all still felt very much like an attack and she was doing her best to muscle through it. It helped at when she returned to the temporary quarters Starfleet had assigned her during the proceedings, that Mona had been there waiting. It turned out that the Captain had used some pull to ensure that would be possible as the couple had been apart for too long.

During the days, Mona had been visiting a district in Japan called Akihabara, studying the latest in cutting edge robotics and Mnhei'sahe was glad she was keeping busy.

After that, the remaining nine Admirals she had been scheduled to see had been spread out over the successive three days. A few had been individual meetings, some groups like her first debriefing. But they all had a similar tone that had begun to wear on the embattled young pilot. It was, however, a storm she knew she had to weather if she wanted to remain a Starfleet pilot, Lieutenant or anything. So she approached each interview with a professional demeanor and a calm countenance. She was a trained officer and had just spent a month straight learning how to control her emotional reactions very well against the demands and temperament of her own people. She could keep her emotions in check through comparably mild debriefings. Even if they did feel more like interrogations.

Through all of the meetings, she had been ghosted by her assigned legal council, Lieutenant Commander Percey Garvey. The fussy, pretentious officer had been given her case by the Starfleet JAG office and clearly resented the duty, but performed it nonetheless. But throughout the proceedings, Mnhei’sahe made sure to give the man next to nothing to do other than take notes. She said nothing that needed defending in a legal sense, because she had done nothing wrong. So she followed Rita Paris’ guiding star, and remained true to herself. She didn’t allow any Rihan curses to slip out. She didn’t roll her eyes at the repetitive questions. She didn’t go on the defensive when the Admirals tried to bait her into reacting with anger or irritation by tinting the word ‘Romulan’, which she hated more than ever since her captivity, like a slur.

The next three days were spent at Starfleet Psychiatric, which was even less fun for the young woman who had to quelch not just her disdain for having her loyalty challenged, but her disdain for people trying to get into her head. She had a long and sordid history with councilors when she was first brought to Earth as an angry, sixteen-year-old Rihannsu girl and it had only mellowed slightly during her time on the Hera. But she did as she was ordered to, and performed the exercises and assignments. Filled out the emotional workshops, and complied with the requests.

Yes, she had anger issues. Yes, she had trust issues. Yes, she had significant emotional baggage that she was still working through, but the three therapists and two group sessions didn’t reveal any significant psychological damage that was indicative of brainwashing or mental conditioning that would be considered a threat to Starfleet security.

As such, the next day, already a full week into her evaluations, she was cleared for the meetings with the brass of Starfleet Intelligence, who wanted to grill her on everything she had learned about the functioning of the Romulan government and military. And that knowledge was considerable. During her time on the Romulan starship, 'The People’s Will', Mnhei’sahe had been given lessons designed to help her integrate into Rihannsu society both by her Grandmother and by Riov Dalia Rendal. In those lessons, she learned about the structure of the Rihannsu Senate. She learned the names of sitting senators and Praetors. She had learned things about their political leaning and voting records. She learned about the schedule and when the Senate was and wasn’t in session. She learned about the role of the Tal’Shiar in manipulating the Senate, and who was in who’s pockets. She had learned a significant amount of very useful information, and Starfleet Intelligence was thrilled to dive into what she knew.

Over another two days, she helped expand the Federation’s understanding of how the current model of the Rihannsu government functioned. That had earned the young officer more than a few points, it seemed, as suddenly, her overall treatment had begun improving considerably. The attempts at provocation ceased, and some of the six Intelligence heads even tried making offers. One wanted to transfer her away from the Hera to his command, offering promotions and other perks to try and sway her. One suggested training her to return and infiltrate the government if possible, even hinting that there were people already positioned in the government that would help make that possible beyond the influence of her Grandmother. Another offered thinly veiled threats that her career would suffer if she didn’t put in for a transfer to his command, but she simply smiled and maintained her composure. There was no way that Enalia Telvan would let that happen.

Throughout it all, Mnhei’sahe kept her cool and maintained her desire to return to her work on the Hera respectfully. But internally, she couldn’t help but notice how transparent some of their attempts at manipulating her were. The bald ambition that made them look not unlike Riov Rendal, with her attempts at seduction. So she answered the questions put to her, and volunteered what she had learned.

Then came the diplomats. The next three days were a flurry of meals and attempts at currying her favor. She found this even more distasteful than she did the Intelligence operative’s overtures. Suddenly, she wasn’t just a half-Romulan former smuggler who squeezed into Starfleet under the proverbial radar. She was the fully-Romulan granddaughter of a very powerful Senator. She was heir to a great house, who potentially had influence on a world that the Federation's relationship with had been at best contentuous for centuries. And that made her very interesting to more than a few people.

After three days of being courted for favor, she was feeling both emotionally exhausted and decidedly fatter. And considering just how much effort she had put into staying in shape since the Captain’s Tribunal, she knew she was going to need to redouble her efforts once she got back on the Hera. Which, when she thought of that, gave her a smile. She was beginning to think in terms of when, not IF for the first time since these proceedings had begun, and it felt good. But the diplomats weren’t quite finished, and she had one more appointment scheduled at Starfleet Intelligence. Thus she did her best to put herself in a positive frame of mind, not knowing who it would be with.

Preparing, her uniform was freshly pressed. Her shoes, pips, and badge were all polished. Her hair was done and in place and she felt professional and well put together as she made her way to the meeting room at Starfleet Intelligence, flanked as always by two gray-clad Intel Security officers. After a short trip from the quarters she had been assigned to during the last week-plus, she arrived a few minutes early to the modest chamber where her Legal liaison, Garney, was waiting impatiently. And there was someone else already waiting. Lieutenant Commander Sonak from the Hera, which was unexpected, to say the least.

"Lieutenant Commander Garney. Lieutenant Commander Sonak. I trust all is well?" Mnhei'sahe asked with a quizzical expression on her face, arms folded behind her back as usual as her guards flanked the turbolift door.

''That was to be my first question to you, Lieutenant,'' Sonak retorted in greeting.

The irritated Legal Liaison shook his head while kitting his eyebrows in annoyance. "You're here to meet with a representative from the Vulcan Government to express their interests in your... unique case. And against my personal objections due to a conflict of interests due to your being shipmates, Lieutenant Commander Sonak is that very representative."

The chief science officer of the Hera turned his steely gaze to the young man.

''You doubt Vulcan integrity, Sir?''

Garney suddenly swallowed and lowered his eyes, mumbling.

''Of... of course not. I... I'm only, err, only following regulations and voicing standard concern regarding such circumstances, Sir.''

Looking from her fussy legal aide to her superior officer and teacher in the discipline of her own mind, Mnhei'sahe nodded respectfully. "Lieutenant Commander Sonak, I suppose that means my appointment is with you?"

''Affirmative. I stated for the record that a full fledged and accredited diplomat should be assigned to this debriefing. However, the Federation Council itself and the Vulcan High Command both requested that I meet with you. It is this very personal connection we have, what Lieutenant Commander Garney here is so concerned about, that is expected to provide deeper understanding and opportunities. I can only bow to the logic of it. Does it agree with you as well, Lieutenant?''

"It does, Lieutenant Commander. Thank you." Mnhei'sahe replied plainly. As always, she enjoyed the straightforward nature of talking with Vulcans, and Sonak in particular. After a month of emotional manipulation and the gauntlet she had been running here at Starfleet, she took great comfort in knowing that this meeting would be free of such concerns.

Annoyed but doing his level best to conceal it, which wasn't well at all, Garney cleared his throat and interjected, gesturing to the mid-sized conference table in the adjacent room. "Very well. Then we can be seated and begin? Apparently, there's a second legal counsel on her way to represent you... Artan family interests, Lieutenant. But she should be along shortly."

And without waiting for approval or any reply, Garney entered the smaller conference room and took a seat, pointing to the seat to his right for Mnhei'sahe to take. To which she simply nodded and sat as instructed then gave her attention to her commander, teacher, and friend. 

Hands behind his back, Sonak entered last, taking the head of the table but ignored the chair, staying up as he spoke.

''Lieutenant, first I would like to hear in your own words and in as concise and precise a manner as possible a summary of your personal experience within the borders of Rihannsu space.''

Before they could get any further, the Artan legal representative rushed in, panting as she tried to catch her breath. She was a younger, short Trill with fine spots and a pixie cut, but the artan badge on her breast was unmistakable. Neither was the Federation Defense Attorney pin on her decidedly Artan-esque lapel. Once she had composed herself, she bowed deeply, holding the small gold datapad in front of her with both hands. "My deepest apologies for my tardiness. Following the Quee... Captain Telvan around to her interviews and then finding out that I'm needed elsewhere yet again... The past few days I have been double booked so many times, I wish I had time to protest being the only Artan legal counsel allowed at these debriefings."

Rolling his eyes, Garvey sighed audibly and gestured to a seat opposite his on the other side of the table. "Well, you're here and we've not yet begun, so if you will take a seat, we can begin... Miss?"

With a hand over her heart, the shorter Trill woman gave her oath as a legal representative to Lieutenant Dox. "Dana Nyn, at your service. I represent the interests of the Artan family at large and answer only to Que... Ahem... Captain Telvan, Captain Magnus, and those I represent so anything you say to me is held in the strictest of confidentiality." With that, she moved to one of the open seats, maintaining her professional attitude.

Sonak lifted an eyebrow.

''This is not a trial, nor even an inquiry. This is but a debriefing to assess diplomatic opportunities from Lieutenant Dox' experience. Would you please explain the reason for your presence here?''

"An excellent question," began Dana as she started in with her usual discourse of justification, then immediately thought better of it. Looking between the other three in the room, it seemed they preferred a succinct answer. "Simply put, I am here to offer any advice Lieutenant Dox may require as a Baroness of the Artan Privateers in regards to the extent of our involvement in reunification and any smuggling activities that may or may not take place in Federation space during those reunification efforts. I am also authorized to provide further contact information and data from within the organization, if she so desires it."

"That might well prove more than useful, and is appreciated. Thank you, Miss Nyn." Mnhei'sahe nodded with a professional but sincere smile. "When my mother and I were ferrying reunificationists from ch'Rihan when I was a child, those efforts were supported strongly by the Artan organization, so there is a long history there to be sure."

Sonak nodded. ''Then, your input on the subject should prove useful, Miss Nyn. Lieutenant Dox, you may proceed with your summary.''

Taking a breath, Mnhei'sahe nodded. "Aye, Lieutenant Commander." It had been days of reciting and repeating the story of her kidnapping and subsequent captivity, but Mnhei'sahe understood the need to do so yet again. So, taking a moment to collect her thoughts, the young red-headed Lieutenant folded her hands on the table in front of her and began.

Calmly, she told of the kidnapping of her and her mother by the Tal'Shiar. She had told them of her time on the Warbird called 'The People's Will" in locked chambers for the month that the ship spent returning to ch'Rihan.

Continuing, she told of the first two weeks spent with her grandmother, the Rihannsu Senator Verelan t'Rul, who attempted to teach Mnhei'sahe about her heritage, her family lineage, and the fact that the young officer could eventually inherit her family lands. She told Sonak and the others of how even the seat in the senate could be inherited… were she to defect and turn her back on Starfleet to help Verelan to remove the Tal'Shiar from power on ch'Rihan and restore some measure of freedom to the Rihannsu people. In those first two weeks, she had learned much about the structure and organization of the senate and repeated much of what she had learned once again.

Then she told of the Tal'Shiar Commander, Dalia Rendal, who took over the ship and locked her and her grandmother in the brig where her mother had been kept. The brig where the young pilot had been shackled to a chair for a week and made to watch as Rendal executed her father in an attempt to break her. After that had failed, Mnhei'sahe told them of how Rendal had subjected her grandmother to the infamous device known as the Neural Extraction Converter. The machine that rewrote the senator's mind in order to ensure her loyalty to the Tal'Shiar. Then she told them of her own time in that same device and her intense struggle to eventually defeat it, a feat of mental discipline made possible thanks to Sonak's months of training.

Finishing over an hour later, Mnhei'sahe told them of her mother's escape from her cell, how she contacted the Hera to tell the crew where Rendal was taking them. She told them of Rendal's attempt to continue her grandmother's training as a more twisted, militaristic form of seduction. And she told them of how she had worked to bide her time and wait for the rescue she knew would eventually occur where she was able, with Sonak's help, to eventually break the conditioning on her grandmother's mind before their escape.

"To the best of my ability and recollection, that's everything that happened." Mnhei'sahe said, a bit more tired for having told the story once again.

''Your recollection concurs with what I myself grasped from our mind-meld,'' Sonak stated. ''Lieutenant, in view of this latest interaction, what is your estimate of the situation regarding Reunification?''

Taking a moment to think about it, Mnhei'sahe leaned forward. "Currently, it's still a hot button subject in the senate according to my grandmother. The movement stalled for a while after the Reman uprising during Shinzon's time as Praetor, and that made a lot of Rihannsu move back into the shadows for a bit."

"Excuse me, what is this... Ree Han... whatever it is you both keep saying?" Garvey said, looking at his PaDD with his eyebrow raised.

Sighing almost imperceptibly, Mnhei'sahe replied without turning to address him directly. "Rihannsu. The actual name for the Romulan people. The Rihannsu are the people. Ch'Rihan is Romulus." Then, without waiting for any acknowledgment, she continued answering Sonak's more pressing question.

"Another problem is the Tal'Shiar. Riov Rendal views reunificationists as..." The Rihannsu Lieutenant paused slightly as what she was about to say was based only partly on her own experiences with the woman and largely on the description of horrifying events that had were to occur that been averted by her rescue. The events of a now altered fate that the entity known as Death had told Mnhei'sahe about. "She doesn't view them as Rihannsu people. And she would not hesitate to wipe out entire colonies if she could locate them."

''The No True Scotsman fallacy, '' Sonak summarized. ''Usually the standard argument of those in power fearing to lose some of it. Would that be the case here, Lieutenant?''

"Unfortunately, yes. Xenophobia and tribalism is still a powerful force there. And the Tal'Shiar still exerts too much control over the government, and they consider the movement a threat to the Imperium, rather than it's natural evolution. However, there are some in the senate and the Prateorate that are more moderate and feel that it could only strengthen the Imperium to open up communications." Then Mnhei'sahe looked over to Sonak and nodded. "Among them, my grandmother. Now more than ever after we mind-melded with her. That was a first-hand experience that I felt open up her perspective." In that moment, she sounds less like a pilot and more like a woman invested in a greater cause. One who had clearly paid close attention to what her grandmother had been telling her about the climate of the world she had come from.

Sonak kept silent for a moment, obviously processing what the young woman had said. Then he looked at her again. ''Based on your experience and what you have learned, what would be your recommendations?''

Looking first at Sonak, then across at Dana Nyn, then glancing hesitantly at Lieutenant Commander Garvey, Mnhei'sahe took a moment to think. In all of her meetings prior to this, she had done her level best to reinforce that she was Starfleet first and Rinhannsu second. After all, it was her loyalty to the fleet that was being challenged. But not here. Not by Sonak. And she knew that. 

"Right now, especially in the wake of my kidnapping and subsequent rescue which is an incident both governments want to pretend didn't happen, doing much of anything overt might be... incendiary." Mnhei'sahe replied, looking down at her folded hands for a second. Then she straightened up, remembering that she was an officer and needed to project that as she spoke.

"I have no intention of acquiescing to my Grandmother's desires for me anytime soon and returning to ch'Rihan. Not under the existing climate. But I was serious when I debated with Rendal in that brig." Mnhei'sahe said more firmly, reminding them of the details of her story from earlier. "As a Starfleet officer and a Federation citizen, I believe that lasting peace between the Federation and ch'Rihan is both possible and would be immensely beneficial to both. It's been demonstrably proven with the alliance with the Klingon Empire. Their fear that we would... assimilate them like the Borg is unfounded. And the reunification movement is, I believe, a step in making the government understand that."

"Sooner or later, what the people believe and want will become what the government must represent. The Rihannsu people have risen up before to unseat fascist governments, more than once. And each time has lead to long periods of peace." Mnhei'sahe said with a bit more passion in her voice. "Peace eventually undone by the deep-seeded xenophobia ingrained in the Rihannsu people for generations. But reunificationists are, by their very nature, moving away from xenophobia. Those are the people that can learn to see that all the Federation is... is the hand of a friend in need, not a fist to push them down. But there are thousands of years of distrust of outsiders to overcome. LOGIC can overcome that."

"My mother taught me that the only long term hope for..." Mnhei'sahe stopped herself from saying us in the moment and corrected herself as she spoke, at least for a second "...the Rihannsu people was to embrace the culture that was abandoned in the sundering thousands of years ago. To learn to temper passion with reason as... our ancestors did. To at least try. I believe it's in the interest of both the Federation and ch'Rihan to encourage reunification. And..."

Then she paused, nervous about saying anything more. "And... if my connection to the Senate through my grandmother can be... used... to in any way open up better communications between us and the Imperium, then I wouldn't be worthy to wear this uniform if I didn't do whatever I could to help."

Internally, Dana Nyn was beaming with pride. Both the Queen and Baroness Nei'rrh had estimated that Baroness Dox would have the strength of character to say something like what she had. Thus, she was authorized to say what she was about to. "In that regard, as you hold a high position in the Artan organizational structure, Baroness Sienae Nei'rrh has made the Golden Ghost available for your use in relation to future reunification efforts. Furthermore, I am to inform you that Captain Magnus has completed the processing to officially make Free Agent Jaeih Dox a member of your crew. How you decide to list her within the organization should be decided by you at a later date. We also have the location of a reunification colony on the other side of the neutral zone called..." Here is when Dana looked down at her datapad for a moment to confirm the name. "Mol Krun'chi Colony." Mol simply meant 'new', but she went with the Rihannsu name because to her it sounded better politically

Listening, Mnhei'sahe nodded while her face remained neutral and calm, giving no outward indication that her stomach had just tightened into a knot other than the blood rushing from her skin for a moment. "Thank you, Miss Nyn. The Golden Ghost was invaluable in the rescue mission and it is a resource it is good to know will be at our disposal, whatever course is chosen."

As she spoke, her mind raced at the words 'Mol Krun'chi Colony'. The name of the Reunification colony that had been fated to die had she not been rescued. And while it's three thousand plus colonists were now fated to live, the simple mention of the name was enough to remind the young Lieutenant of just how close she had come to losing everything to Riov Rendal. But she said nothing more, deferring to Sonak.

The Vulcan again was silent for a moment. Then he nodded.

''Your recommendations are duly noted, Lieutenant; and so is your offer, Miss Nyn.''

He paused again then looked at each person in the room in turn.

''It is logical to assume that, as more and more of the Rihansuu people will be exposed to the possibility of changing their way of life, more and more will choose to try... and at the same time, the faction opposing such endeavor will tighten its grip, or try to. This will undoubtedly reach a breaking point where either a compromise will be found... or one of the two factions will prevail over the other, not obliterating it but sending it into the shadows.''

His gaze ended up on Garney.

''Whatever the outcome, it is imperative that the Prime Directive be upheld. Unless there is a direct request from the Rihannsu people, the Federation must not act in any way to influence the Empire's internal affairs.''

He now looked at Dana Nyn.

''And even then, such a request should be handled with the utmost care and through proper diplomatic channels. Any... so-called cowboy diplomacy or out of official channels initiatives would only serve to alienate those opposed to reunification efforts and endanger those favoring it, both consequences pushing any such reunification possibility further away.''

His eyes finally fell on Dox.

''I will present your report and your recommendations to the Federation Diplomatic Corps and a proposal to have Vulcan fully open itself to cultural exchanges with the Empire. I will also present it all to the Vulcan High Council with the same proposal, citing you, Lieutenant, as the most valuable intermediary for these exchanges. With the autonomous, independent help provided by Miss Nyn's people, this should go a long way in easing the process; that is, if you would be willing to accept such responsibility, Lieutenant.''

In the year since coming aboard the Hera, Mnhei'sahe Dox had gone from a skilled but ignored shuttle pilot to a command officer entrusted with secrets and responsibilities she could never have imagined. But it was a path that she knew she couldn't walk away from any further. That was the burden of responsibility that she was learning too well. And while she was, on many levels, terrified of opening that door to risking losing herself again to the machinations of her own people, she knew she didn't really have a choice. Not if she wanted to remain the woman she had become during that past year. This burden was hers, not only by blood but now by choice.

So, with a clear nod, she replied firmly and simply. "Aye, Lieutenant Commander. I will."

Sonak stood.

''On behalf of all of Vulcan and those who hope for a reunification of both our people, I thank you for your service, Lieutenant Dox. You yourself, a distinguished Starfleet officer of Rihannsu origin, you are the shining example of that possibility. May both our people see that light.''

His grey eyes then swept the others.

''If there is nothing else to discuss, I propose to adjourn this meeting. Thank you all for your presence.''

With what was clearly a near-perpetual expression of irritation, Garney was typing away on his PaDD as Sonak spoke, barely pausing to meet the Vulcan's piercing gaze. It was a level of disrespect that made Mnhei'sahe angrier then any of the legal aide's behavior towards her had elicited. But she quashed that as well as he abruptly stopped and stood up to address the room. "Very well. I have no objections, Lieutenant Commander Sonak."

Turning to Dox, Garvey pursed his lips as he looked her up and down judgmentally. "Miss Dox, when you're done here, the security officers will escort you out of the building for the evening on your own recognizance. I need to file my reports with the judge advocate general's office and the hearing review board on your case for their decisions. You are to meet me tomorrow, oh eight-thirty hours at Command headquarters. Third-floor transport room. Thank you, Lieutenant."  

And Mnhei'sahe nodded her understanding, she replied plainly, "Aye, Mr. Garvey." To which the irritated officer scoffed lightly and left the room. As the door hissed behind him, the embattled but emboldened young officer stood up, adjusted her crimson tunic and turned to address the two left in the room.

"Miss Nyn, I thank you for your presence and assistance. If you don't mind waiting a moment, I'd like to talk with you in a moment. However... since you heard the whole story, there's no need for what else I'd like to say to be private." Mnhei'sahe said, nodding her head slightly as she spoke.

Having also stood with the others in the room, Dana Nyn bowed slightly to Lieutenant Dox, one hand over her heart. "Of course. There are a few things I would like to discuss with you as well, if I may." While she knew that she had to treat Lieutenant Dox as a Starfleet Officer, having reviewed the events of the Tribunal, in her mind, there was really no way she could think of her in any other way than as a full fledged Baroness worthy of respect. Around the annoying Mr. Garvey she would be her normal self... But around a Baroness or even the Queen... She had to constantly remind herself to call them by their Starfleet titles.

Turning to look up across the table at the steel-gray eyes Vulcan, Mnhei'sahe stood not quite attention, but respectfully with her arms folded behind her back. And when she spoke, she addressed the superior officer not by his Starfleet rank, but with the Vulcan word for a master teacher. His other relationship with the young Rihannsu. 

"Trensu Sonak, I have not had the opportunity since my recovery from ch'Rihan to speak with you in private. And while it may have no logical requirement, it is however important for me on a personal level to offer you my thanks." It was clear as she spoke that she was doing her level best to contain her emotions, which were notoriously strong, even for a Rihannsu. "Had it not been for you and your diligent training and the many lessons you have imparted to me over these last months on the Hera to help me learn to protect and discipline my mind, I would not be here today. I would have been lost on that Warbird before you and the crew had even had a chance to rescue me. That machine would have broken my mind. I don't even know who I would now be in that event, and I am... extremely grateful for what you have invested in me. Thank you."

"We come to serve,'' Sonak simply said.

The Kolinahr master may have been utterly devoid of emotions, being married to a Human woman had taught him a lot about what they were and what need they fulfilled in other beings. His now growing familiarity with Romulan mind, mostly through his mind-melding with Dox herself, had also contributed to his understanding of it for a people almost his own. And so he knew the need of going beyond the mere acknowledgment of fact.

''Rest assured the enrichment of mind and soul our interactions have brought me is equally valuable to me as my help proved valuable to you. We have both grown through our relationship. With your approval, we shall continue to do so; even if you have now proven yourself quite capable of self-growth. There is no better compliment a student can give its teacher. Your success honors me. Peace and Long Life.''

Nodding with a contented smile, Mnhei'sahe returned the acknowledgment. "Live long and Prosper, Commander. And you have my approval. It would be an honor to continue under your tutelage."

He then faced the Artan woman.

''Thank you for your contribution to this whole effort for galactic peace, Miss Nyn. Peace and Long Life to you as well.''

With a last finger-parted salute of Vulcan, he nodded to the two of them then left the room.

There was a moment of silence as Mnhei'sahe took a breath and let it out. Then she turned back to Dana Nyn as the door hissed shut behind Sonak. "I wanted to thank you for your presence here and your assistance. I'm glad it wasn't... overtly required. However, this information regarding the Mol Krun'chi Colony. Is it secure?"

"It's as secure as we can make it. The actual coordinates are only stored on the two vessels that make runs there," Dana replied, pulling up the data on her datapad. "One of those vessels is the Golden Ghost and the other is Baroness Nei'rrh's flagship. As for their defenses... I've been told they're minimal at best, but they do have a reasonable alert system with a monitoring tap inside an Imperial Navy satellite."

Nodding slightly, Mnhei'sahe replied with a slight smile, concealing her concern as best as possible as there wasn't anything that really needed to be done at this time. "Thank you. I'm hopeful that With Commander Sonak backing it up, we will be able to do something good here. Maybe we can make something positive come from everything that's happened. And if you would, please convey my thanks to Baroness Nei'rrh and Maenek t'Liun of the Ghost whenever possible, and of course, safe. Thank you."

"Of course, my lady," Dana replied, bowing respectfully, her right hand over her heart. "If I may, there are some other matters I should brief you on regarding the Ghost as well as your mother's status that you should be aware of. Also, I'm told that Maenek t'Luin has left an encoded message for you on the Hera for when these proceedings have been completed."

For just a moment, Mnhei'sahe felt somewhat self-conscious at having been treated in such a fashion, but she decided to not make an issue of it. After all, her own discomfort over pomp and circumstance was no reason to make Dana Nyn self-conscious. To say nothing of not wanting to be rude to a rare friendly face. 

"Thank you. And please, by all means, proceed. Though I hope you don't mind if I stay standing for this. My butt is numb from having to sit through all of these meetings." Mnhei'sahe said with a more relaxed smile as she ran her fingers through her hair and over her ear.

"Of course. However you are most comfortable," replied Dana, readying her datapad. "First off, your mother and everything aboard the USS Hera went well. The Starfleet liaison was not the most cordial, but we were quite clear and firm with him that as a citizen of the Artans, she will no longer be harassed and is no longer subject to crimes that she has already spent more than her time for."

Relaxing slightly at that news, Mnhei'sahe let out a light sigh. "Thank al'Thindor. I was more worried about her in this than I have been in my own regard. Thank you."

"As for the resources afforded you by the Artan governing body and its subsidiaries, as you are still an active member of Starfleet, in accordance of normal divestment of interest clauses found within the agreements that the Queen has with the Federation, they are also being applied equally to you. Thus, while the Golden Ghost and your mother are technically listed as now being part of your assets as a Baroness, per that agreement, they are officially being managed by Captain Magnus, who has delegated the responsibility to Baroness Nei'rrh, who has then again delegated the responsibility to Agent Dox, who will be informed of this arrangement upon your agreement of said arrangement."

"That makes sense, I..." Mnhei'sahe replied before pausing with a raised eyebrow and a question. "Wait... 'assets'? 'Resources'? What do you mean? The Ghost is listed as my asset?"

"Indeed, Baroness Nei'rrh and Maenek t'Luin both agreed that the services of the Ghost would best be served under your command as Baroness in the coming days so it has been transferred to your Barony." Dana nodded slowly as she spoke, making sure she was clear in what was on her datapad. "Furthermore, Captain Magnus, with your permission, would like to name Agent Dox not as your Second as would be customary of your first crewmember, but as your adjutant, to maintain that divestment of interests. Just as the Queen's adjutant, she would be responsible for monitoring the activity of your assets, briefing you on any crisis that should arise, making most decisions in your place, and ensuring your continued safety."

"Of course. I trust my mother in this regard completely, and I'm glad that she's protected in this capacity. Thank you, I appreciate this." Mnhei'sae replied, nodding and looking a bit more relaxed still. "And if I have further questions about these... clauses and various regulations, would I be able to contact you for any clarification?"

"Of course, my lady. I will be here in the Sol system for the better part of the next... I believe they call it a season? I intend to tour the major cities to see these Christ-mass lights humans speak so fondly off." The short, delicate-seeming Trill woman had a bit of a piratical grin on her face as she spoke of the human holiday - the first real relaxed look she had given since being in the presence of the younger Dox.

Smiling back, Mnhei'sahe was finally feeling the tension of the day let up as she stretched slightly. "Well, hopefully, you will enjoy it. It took me being dragged across the planet last year by Commander Paris on a sightseeing tour for me to finally start appreciating it. That said, I thank you again for your assistance here and moving forward. I'm in your debt, Miss Nyn. And if you would like, I'm meeting my wife and our security retinue for dinner. I have no idea what they've picked out to eat, but you are welcome to join us."

"No, Baroness... After recent events, we are all in your debt," Dana replied with another respectful bow of her head. "As for dinner, it would be an honor and a privilege to share a meal with you. Thank you. I'll try not to be so formal. After all, meal time is where one relaxes."

~Tag-

As they were packing up clothing and supplies for their shore leave on Earth, the midget Mariposian test pilot Ensign Fiona O'Dell was busy reading aloud to her partner in all things, Ensign Briaar Gavarus, about their destination from a PaDD she had laying on the bed as she packed their suitcases. Beside it, Minerva Carrot, their wee beastly Minotaur toddler whom had come under their care, listened intently as she sucked on a bottle she had learned to hold on her own already. Recently she had begun taking her first attempts at standing and walking on her own, which seemed surprisingly soon for a 3 month old, But she was also growing, having doubled in size since the unlikely duo had taken her on, which was, according to the manual they had been given on How To Raise Your Minotaur from the Greek goddess who had penned it, quite normal.

"Travel deep into the Golden Vale of County Cork with yuirr guide, and soak up some free time in Cork to explore at ye leisure, before exploring the famous Rock of Cashel. Then, visit Blaaarney Castle and follow in time-honored tradition by kissin' the Blarney Stone." Looking up, Fiona made a sour face. "We'll pass on that, and I'll let ye imagine why, although if ye want to see it I'm all fuir that. Top off the trip wi' shopping in the Woollen Mills before returning to yuir own castle, breathtakin' Adare Manor. Ach, this is g'win ta be a foine, foine time for us all, aye?"




It was clear from her travelogue that when news of the Hera's assignment to the Sol system had arrived, the little efficient planner had gone to work, plotting out an itinerary for the odd little trio of misfits that would get them off the ship to see some beautiful scenery from her people's ancestral birthplace. While giving them a tour of pubs and bars that were the real deal, not just the imitations that were often found amongst the stars. With real Irish whiskey, no less, and Guinness, the dark bitter beer she enjoyed so.

Listening along, Briaar was sitting, cross-legged on the deck in front of the bed with an open shoulder bag, tossing unfolded clothes in from the pile of clean(ish) laundry that had collected over the last couple of weeks, muttering as she went through what would be needed to pack. "Okay... this... this... NOT this. I checked the local weather in Dublin, and it's, like, 11 degrees. So, we'll need light jackets at LEAST."

Next to her on the deck was the aforementioned 'How To Raise Your Minotaur' book, open a few pages in. The slightly flustered Tellarite engineer was glancing over at it while stuffing unfolded clothes in the bag. "Yeah, it should be fun as long as we avoid frickin' holosuites and don't kiss local rocks. What, do the locals piss on it at night or something the screw with the tourists?"

"Ye nailed it in one, Briaar, joost that. But we kin see it all the same, and twill be fine. Now, I do want Minnie to be able to see some Shaggies, as they are far and away the cutest cows in the universe, and I think it'd be good for her to see some life wi' horns and a tail and fur like hers, since, well, s'not like either of us or innyone else aboard resembles her. So we'll go see the Scots as well for a day, I found a nice farm that's wee one friendly where she kin see goats and chickens and pigs and shaggies..." The odd organizer paused as a chime announced an incoming message. "Ohhhh, dinna tell me this is the Chief tellin us our leave is canceled or that we've duty, not when I've planned oot alla... this..."

The little lass paused, eyes scanning over the message with some small degree of shock, as evidenced by the fact that she stopped speaking- a rarity for O'Dell in any moment.

"What is it? Did someone else get frickin'... kidnapped?" Briaar joked as she stuffed a few pairs of rightly enormous panties in the bag. But she stopped in her tracks as she glanced over and saw Fiona's face.

Wordlessly, the tiny test pilot handed over the PaDD to her porcine partner as her eyes blinked a bit rapidly, which the tall Tellarite knew meant that she was fighting back tears.

Taking the PaDD, Briaar started reading it, suspiciously. As she did, little Minerva stopped sucking on her bottle for a moment as she looked at her two unconventional caretakers with a slightly confused look. Letting out a light gasp, Briaar brought up a thick, three-fingered hand to cover her mouth as she almost dropped the PaDD. As she did, her eyes began to well up too. "Oh my gods..."

"She's... they... I... I don't believe it. Fee. We're... The Carrott's are leaving the ship and... and..." Briaar muttered, starting to let tears slip out as she dropped the PaDD on top of the open bag of clothes. As she did, little Minerva began crawling over to her making tiny, gurgling cooing sounds that sounded plaintive. Looking up at Briaar with her big, brown eyes then up on the bed at Fiona, the tiny tot looked upset. Something had changed, and she didn't understand what was happening.

Snapping out of the near-shock, Briaar let out a loud snort and a deep laugh as she looked down and snatched up the miniature Minotaur in her arms. As she did, she all but launched off the deck and flumped down tight next to Fiona on the bed, clutching Minerva between them and all but shaking. "Ohh! Oh, no! We're... we're not SAD Minnie Moo! We're... its official. Me and Fee... We're... we're your mommies!"

"S'right, wee one," Fiona managed finally, her voice choked with emotion. "From this day forth, we're yuir mums. Tis official noow... we dinna have ta give ye oop, and we're free to raise ye and see ye cared for wi' all the love we can muster!" Wrapping her spindly thin arms about the toddler, the redheaded roustabout snuggled into the hug of her large partner, the three of them enveloped in hugs. "I dinna.... I dinna realize how worried I was aboot it until noow, but... tis ye and me and baby makes three, Briaar."

Looking up at the space swine who had become first her drinking buddy, then her best friend, then her hero, then her partner, Fiona O'Dell wept openly. Her life had changed so much in the past year, and in so many unexpected and unusual directions. But while she still saw it as bizarre and unbelievable, it all made her happy, far happier than she had ever been in her life. Working for a chicken, in love with a pig and caring for a cow, her odd life in space had become something of a barnyard experience. But she had ceased questioning it, and just enjoyed it. In the burly arms of the Tellarite, she felt safer than anywhere in the universe and slept like a babe, and seeing the delight on the face of the Minotaur in diapers they could now call their daughter warmed her heart equally.

I... I know." Briaar said, leaning into the hug and squishing little Minnie between them, which only caused the miniature Minotaur to let out a giggle and a burp. She might not have known the details of what was happening, but now it was clear to her that it was happy, and that she understood. "I was... I was just trying to not think about it. In a billion years I never thought they would go for it. I figured it was a... a lost cause... but... I dunno. Maybe whatsherface, Hera, put in a good word for us or something."

Picking up the PaDD, Fiona's eyes went a bit wide. "Nae... twas the Chief, and the Commander and the Cap'n signed off on it too. I guess maybe we dinna look as screwed up on the outside as we think we do? Or maybe since there were no other candidates? Ach, who cares. We're all together, and that's what counts."

"Noow comes the decisions part. So, uh, we're nae married or nothin, so... I'm thinkin' mebbe we let Minnie keep her last name too, but we drop the spare 'T' in it. I dinna want either of us to have to change our names, and rather than her carry one of ours, how about she retains her own? Ye think?" Fiona looked up at Briaar, wanting to hear her say on the matter. While they were a couple, they were both equals in their partnership, and decisions like this needed both of them to weigh in.

Rolling over, Briar started playing with little Minnie's tiny hooves, smiling. As she did, the mini Minotaur started grabbing for them herself and giggling. "Is that good with you, huh Minnie Moo? Are you our baby Carrot? Are you?"

"Yeah." Briaar looked up while playing with Minerva, "That's fine. I mean, there's no real reason to change it. It's already her name and it fits her, I think. Minerva Carrot."

"Minerva Mary Margaret Josephine Mona Carrot," Fiona corrected. "I canna let any child of mine not inherit my family's tradition of too many names in the middle, and each significant in some way. Have ye a middle name, Briaar?" Fiona cocked her head to regard the surly swine who she knew would make a great parent for their bundle of hooves and horns. "It dawns on me, I dinna know and I nivvir asked."

Blushing slightly, Briar knitted her eyebrows and shook her head. "Naw. That's not really a thing for Tellarites. But I like putting 'Mona' in there. I mean, without her, who knows where we'd be, ya' know?"

"So, I guess this makes our vacation more of a celebration now, huh?" Briaar added as she scooched back up to sit on the edge of the bed.

"Hmmm... well, both of us need to contribute. So Minerva Moo Mary Margaret Mona Carrot it is, because ye always call her Minnie Moo, so that should be the middle name ye gave her methinks," Fiona decided, it having satisfied the naming conventions of her people. "Aye. 'twill be our first vacation together as a family. A family..."

There was a moment where Fiona stared at the PaDD wistfully, then back up at Briaar. "I nivvir thought, ye know? Nae for me, I'm too weird, I'll nivvir have kids, hell, I expected to die alone and i was okay with that, ye know? Yet here we are... ye and me and Minnie and... we're a family. I dinna want to re-enlist when me time comes oop, Briaar. I don't know what the future holds, but this life is dangerous, and I want more for Minnie. Before ye ask I have no idea what, but when time comes, let's joost take our discharges and go make our lives somewhere out there and live by our own rules, joost us. Ye dinna have to answer noow, but I want ye to think on it, aye? I want to be there for her, not on duty with one of us trying to look out for her and one working, or trying to trust day care, seein' how that worked oot."

Sitting on the bed, Briaar went quiet and thoughtful for a moment, only snapping out of it when Minnie succeeded in getting her own tiny hooves into her own mouth and letting out a gurgling snort at her achievement, which elicited chuckles from both of her newly minted mothers.

Shaking her head slightly and smiling warmly, the typically temperamental Tellarite turned and sighed. "Yeah. I mean, she likes Big E, and the Chief, and I bet we could even get Grandma MurderPunch to help out 'cuz they seem to like each other too. But daycare... frickin' yikes. That was a cluster@#$%. We need to be there for her."

Immediately, both women's minds went to recall the nannycams in the ship's daycare facilities. Little Minnie might have been a gentle, loving sweetheart with them, Ethel Jablonski, Hera, Jaeih Dox, and Mona Gonadie, but she was a right unholy terror left to the unprepared graces of Daycare. The Miniature minotaur wreaked havoc with the facilities, breaking toys, headbutting the other children (which, when your head comes with HORNS offered a unique problem) and throwing a near-perpetual tantrum until the unlikely parents-to-be came to pick her up.

The two looked at each other and made the same awkward face as they recalled the incident. Daycare was not a viable option as Gavarus flumped back to the deck to continue packing. "Yeah... but the book says that's not uncommon for little Minotaurs. They get confrontational and territorial with other kids and only like who they like."

As she stuffed some t-shirts in the bag, Fiona grabbed their diaper bag and prepped that for travel. Looking at the still-open book on the deck, Briaar nodded and continued, "But it also says that they... kinda leap through certain early development milestones at a rate up to five times faster than other kids. That's why she's already trying to walk and she'll be teething any day. She's closer to a one-year-old human or maybe a seven-month-old Tellarite baby, even though she's only three months old."

"Aye. Fuir noow we make do, but when she kin walk and talk and ask awkward questions, maybe starship life in the service might not be the place for her. I love that the Chief brought us together, and I love workin on her designs, but... we have bigger responsibilities now, aye?" Cradling the babe in her arms, Fiona smiled gently. "Yuir the future, little one. And seems we've a responsibility to make sure we raise ye oop right. Aye, that we do. Dinna ye worry... yuir mums will take care of ye."

"But fuir now, tis time for a right proper family vacation of the pubs of Ireland, so we kin expand yuir mum's shotglass collection," Fiona explained as she pointed and used one hand to help sort Gavarus' packing efforts. "We kin get some righteous whiskeys and lagers and bitters and pub sports. Maybe we kin even get Granny Murderpunch to stop in while we're aboot so we kin get up to some shenanigans wi' folks who dinna know us. But we're g'win ta meet sheep and shaggies and get some woolen sweaters and scarves an' see some beautiful countryside that's protected from development. So ye'll know where mum's accent comes from and the culture that her planet's culture came from... one mum at least."

"Oooh, hold on. We'll need to replicate her some sweaters for when we get there as it's a little chilly." Gavarus said, pulling herself up to her feet with a grunt and going across the room to the replicator and started punching in instructions. "It might be tough to talk Granny into coming. I mean, wasn't she kinda locked up on Earth for, like, years? She might not be down but I'm certainly game to try. She still kinda freaks me out, but she's kinda cool."

"Aye, but we'll invite her to come see is while we're planetside. She might come oot, stranger things and alla that," O'Dell admitted.

"And, yeah. I'm looking forward to it. Seeing where your ancestors came from and all that. Although, I think eventually while my mom will pop a gasket, my little sister Mreea will absolutely LOVE Minnie." The tall Tellarite said as she walked back with a thick, zip-up hooded sweater that she presented to the baby and Fiona. It was green, with a hood equipped with a pair of reinforced holes big enough to accommodate Minnie's horns that said 'Future Bad@$$' in big orange letters on the front.

"That's bloody righteous right there, nice work, Briaar. Maybe go wi' one with a wooly lining and have that one say, 'Yeah, their me mums, wanna make somethin of it?' on the front, and one that's a pullover that has a nice Celtic knot and 'Ireland' on it. Ahhh, foogiyt, we're goin shoppin' when we're doown there innyways, so we kin spoil her then." Pausing, Fiona bounced the baby bovine on her knee as she smiled wistfully.

"Us as actual parents and not and unlikely babysitters is still g'win to take some gettin' used to, ye know? But... it does make me happy. Ye make me happy, Briaar. And ye do too, me wee moo moo." Wrapping both arms around the furry babe, O'Dell gave her a squeeze and kissed Minnie atop her head. "So we'll celebrate by bein responsible parents and bringin' the baby to a pub to get blind drunk, aye? Only this time no holosuites..."

----------

Requisitioning a somewhat cramped but functional Type 6 shuttlecraft, the improbable family left the Hera from where it was docked at the Jupiter station and, with the Mariposian midget at the helm, they were on their way to Earth and the Emerald Isle itself, as planned. Arriving without incident, any concerns the pair of extremely new parents might have had over how well Minnie would handle being in a shuttle was quickly dispelled by a ride peppered with giggles and awe at the sight of the stars streaking past the windows, and awe at the sight of the green and blue planet below.

Day one was the somewhat predictable tour of Blarney Castle and County Cork, with a tour guide that the irascible couple delighted in irritating throughout the twelve-hour guided tour of the area. The day ended, predictably in a small, local pub that was clearly a tourist-trap, where they closed down the night in their trademark style. But with the addition of the adorable Minotaur babe, they garnered even more attention than they usually would, as half the tourists wanted pictures with the fuzzy bundle. An activity only slightly dimmed when the drunken couple remembered that in a moneyless society, they couldn't charge anyone for the privilege. However, they could be plied with drinks, and that substituted quite handily.

They could, however, bundle every picture and forward it along a secure subspace signal to Jaeih Dox on the Hera. Pictures all tagged with a number of increasingly persistent messages asking the suspicious Romulan intel agent that they had taken a liking to, to come and join in the fun planetside.

Day two began with the fairly odd family being kicked out, and banned for life from the luxurious resort known as Adare Manor, which they had chosen to stay in on their first night. The beautiful palace had never quite had guests quite like Fiona and Briaar, but it was little Minnie that had been the last straw that had gotten the family removed as she decided to all but paint the walls with the remnants of a significant amount of her recycled dinner in the form of noxious manure.

From there, and with a reply from the affectionately nicknamed 'Grandma MurderPunch' that she had no desire to ever set foot on Earth ever again, it was time to engage in some day drinking a bit further away from the tourist traps as they took the shuttle to the aggressively quaint village of Clonakilty and worked their way from pub to pub before eventually chasing Minnie through a field as she had squealed with delight upon discovering a flock of sheep and absolutely needed to hug as many of them as was possible.

Struggling to stand had given way to walking and now a waddling kind of top-heavy running, as the magical minotaur maiden took another rather rapid leap in development, and while they had no actual measurements to work from, Fiona swore the babe was centimeters taller and a kilo heavier, practically overnight.

It was an adorable display that had made them, once again, the center of a bit of attention that they were able to leverage into even more drinks, and lunch at a local restaurant where Briaar broke the local record for eating potato pancakes. And, of course, a number of holovids of Minnie hugging sheep that was sent back to the Hera with yet another message. The odd couple was nothing if not persistent, even if there were no further replies.

After another night of drinking that ended with the happy family sleeping in the shuttlecraft in lieu of a hotel, day three was kicked off with a trip to take little Minnie to see the highland shaggies. The adorable baby Minotaur that had been born on the Hera was positively transfixed by the sight of the floppy furred cattle of the Scottish highlands. It was both aggressively cute and a genuinely emotional moment as the two newly minted mothers watched their big, brown-eyed baby encounter creatures that looked like herself for the very first time. There was crying and hugging right up until little Minerva tried to take an impromptu ride by grabbing the horns of one of the shaggies before Briaar caught her in a flying tackle worthy of a linebacker.



Returning to Ireland proper and the county of Limerick, it was another evening of bar-hopping with the baby that had become a tourist attraction onto herself wherever they took her. Drinks, singing, darts, and various bar games were played late into the night until the worn-out family decided that they didn't want to sleep in the shuttlecraft yet again, and began complaining about it.

"I can't do it again, Fee." Briaar Gavarus said as she held onto little Minnie's hooves, with the tiny tot perched on her shoulders, trying to grab the hanging glasses from the top of the bar, which experience had shown would end with smashed glass on the polished wooden floors. "The couches on the shuttle are fine for you, and the travel crib is perfect for Minnie, but I had to twist like a squished-ass pretzel to sleep in that damn thing. There's gotta be a bed and breakfast or a... whatchamacallit... a hostel or just a lame hotel in this town."

"Ach, me poor love. This is almost as bad as that time we were stook in that escape pod for a day. Alreet, alreett, nivvir ye fear, I've a plan," Fiona muttered as she picked up a PaDD out of the diaper bag and started scrolling across the screen. "Since Starfleet picks up the tab, so to speak, I know of a place hearaboots... not s'stoofy as that hoity toity place where they dinna appreciate Minnie's artistic skills, but a bit moire doown ta earth, a bit draftier and cozier... ah, here we are. Dromore Castle, set in the foothills ootside Belfast, where me people originally immigrated from to pess off to the stars. Our name literally comes from the fact that we lived in the dells and glens there... aye, this should do the trick!"

Holding up the tablet so Briaar could see, Fiona had onscreen a luxuriously large canopy bed that looked large enough for a human family of six, which would, if the model in the bed were not O'Dell's size, would be more than adequate to host the tall Tellarite comfortably along with her picayune partner and their mischievous moppet. Offering up the device, Fiona handed it over so Briaar could look the place over and review the amenities.

Holding the PaDD at arm's length to let her drunken eyes focus properly, Gavarus read the file. Meanwhile, Minnie reached down from her perch on her towering mom's shoulders to try grabbing for the pretty pictures of the picturesque castle and amenities. "This looks nice. OOOh, and they have a bar off of the lobby! Sweet!"

Looking up, the tubby Tellarite smiled, "Whadda ya' think, Minnie Moo? This look like a fun place to go next?" to which the mini Minotaur babe began bouncing in place and chortling out a half giggle/half moo. "Well, I'll... Uuurpp! Take that as a 'yes'. So, that's two yesses, FeeMom."

"Well allreet then, Breemom... ach, I guess we do need some way to differentiate betwixt us. Tell ye what, howbout ye be Mooom." Fiona deliberately strained out the word without yer accent to form a more conventional pronunciation of the word, followed by, "and I'll be Mum, aye? Then we still have Mum, Mummy, Mumma and alla the variants she might decide to go through until she throws something through a wall crying that we dinna understand and it isnae fair?"

"Mum and Mom. That works for me. And like you said, Minnie will eventually just come up with something of her own once she starts talking." Briaar said, setting the PaDD down on the bar and taking a particularly large scoop of the trail mix that was in a bowl in front of them.

"So, Dromore Castle it is." The portly Porcine said with a full mouth as she pulled little Minnie down and brought her down to the bar to sit in front of the pair of new moms. "Ready for another little adventure, Minnie Moo?"

As she spoke, little Minnie waved her arms over her head and squeaked out a gleeful, high pitched moo that rippled into a giggle and making grabby arms for Fiona this time.

"Alreet ye wee monster c'mere... hoof!" Fiona climbed onto a seat then grunted as she lifted the babe off her partner's shoulders. "S'a good thing I started workin oot before ye came along. Miss Minnie, or I wouldnae be able to life ye. Yuir gettin so big yes ye are! Cuz ye drink yuir milk and that builds strong teeth and bones, aye? S'reet! Okay, you need a change and mum needs ta pess, so..." setting the child on the floor on her hooves, Fiona considered pushing a boundary, then thought better of it.

"Or maybe mum carries ye into the toilet, given the general state of cleanliness of the floor of pub bathrooms..."

To Be Continued...

An hour later they were parking the shuttle, after having driven it basically as a hovercar in the no-fly zone surrounding many of the local landmarks. The road trip had been scenic, even though the weather had turned gloomy and brisk. Which just meant that everyone layered up in a new sweater- Fiona had insisted on a V-neck cram cable knit oversized woolen sweater that fit Gavarus more like a short dress than a sweater, with sleeves that were longer than her arms, which needed to be cuffed at the ends to fit. But it was thick and warm, and true to the lass they called leprechaun's advertising, felt like wearing a hug.

Minnie was clad in a similar version, save that hers went down to her hooves and the sleeves kept trying to dangle no matter how much they were rolled up, but Fiona insisted Minerva would grow into it. For herself, Fiona had chosen a very fuzzy woolen sweater in bright emerald green, which was, unsurprisingly, her color. However, the floof of the sweater actually made her look a bit less like a stick figure. As they arrived, Fiona parked them precisely, then they all took in the view.




Stepping out of the parked shuttle into the cool air, the three all in their thick, oversized sweaters. Fiona was holding Minnie by the hand as the miniature Minotaur was excited to have her little hooves underneath her, even if she wasn't the steadiest on two legs just yet. Although to be fair, for a three-month-old, she was doing spectacularly compared to a human infant of the same age, who would just now be able to lift their head and start to attempt to crawl. While she wasn’t particularly steady waddling about, she had begun getting fussy about wanting to be locomoting under her own power once they had arrived. Another new development that the unconventional parents of the unconventional child took in stride.

But now little Minnie was all smiles as she and her Mom and Mum took in the sight of the exterior of Dromore Castle. It was an ancient ruin that had clearly seen better days, and looked to be held together by willpower and the ivy running up its walls and over its craggy battlements. Half the windows were missing glass, and the keep and tower that flanked both sides of the courtyard in the center looked exactly as drafty as Fiona had advertised. But they were all thrilled because, if anything, it wasn’t another night in the shuttle for Gavarus, and it was enchanting in its own way. The fresh air was far different than sterilized shipboard recycled air, the breeze hinted at the rain that had come and was yet to come again. A rumble of thunder in the distance sounded mildly ominous, but it energized Fiona, who thrived in such weather conditions.

As they started across the road, another shuttle showed up. This one looked almost as old as the castle and belched a plume of exhaust as it hovered up to the main gates, barely missing the covered awning. They had seen the same transport picking up tourists and visitors in town an hour ago for a tour of the local village, and off of it came a small group of visitors.

“I guess we’re not the only tourists staying here tonight, guys?” Briaar tilted her head and commented as they crossed the path into the castle, just ahead of the other group. The group behind them was mostly a little overly loud and boisterous. A family of Klingons, the parents of whom seemed as comfortable on vacation as they would be at the dentist, who scoffed at everything with as much volume as possible. But they had a small child with them that seemed quiet enough. Then there was the Bolean couple with three holo-imagers on straps around their necks taking scans of everything they saw and behind them, an older looking human woman with an unruly mop of silver hair, a vintage book in her hands and a small bag over her shoulder that seemed content to be unseen.

Inside the main entrance of the castle, an older Irishman with thick mutton chops and an even thicker accent came out from behind the check-in counter with a broad, if seemingly forced smile and greeted them.

"Hail an welmut, trivlers. M'Paitur Plunkitt, ana wilcumye ta Cassel Drumuir, aye?" the aged gentleman in the tweed riding cap, leaning on a hickory walking stuck rambled, even as the tourists all looked at one another, confused.

"He says 'Hail and well met, that his name is Peter Plunkett, and he welcomes ye to Castle Dromoor," Fiona translated, to the visible relief of the rest of the retinue. The old man cocked a bushy, wiry eyebrow at the wee lass and addressed her.

"Tiswha Ah saaid, canna they noo speak Fed'ration coomon or soomesooch? Samatter wi'em, Ah thought they'ad them bluiddy univerrrsal translaators or whatnot ta make what Ah say inta theirr oown tongues, wot?"

"Nae, estás falando ben, meu sahhr, pero o acento non é fácil de distinguilo aos investigadores e ingleses, si? Non te preocupes, eu vou teño en conta co sentido e eles van poñer o proooblem. En menos de pouco tempo, menos mín, clan aquí o fará.," Fiona burred out in her best Gaelic, which surprised the old man as he eyed the clearly Irish child standing there with a giant pig and a miniature cow.

"Está ben, pero mantén os seus animais sen ganas e limpa as desordes que fan no castelo, aye?" he replied, which immediately brought forth an angry rant in her heavily accented Federation Standard, as Fiona's pale skin turned red with her immediately arrived fury.

"Dinna ye be sayin sooch things aboot me family, ye daft old codger, or I'll ring yuir bell s'hard the church will think tis noon and they're behind the times. This's me partner and me daaater and ye'd be well ta keep a civil tongue in yuir head lest ye lose it ta me boot, y'hear me Paiter Ploonkit?" As she ranted she had begun advancing on the elderly caretaker, even as her porcine partner wisely grasped the back of the small spitfire's sweater to hold her back. It had been a while since Gavarus had seen O'Dell get so angry so quickly, so whatever had been said was clearly outrageous to her. Watching, the Klingon couple nodded approvingly at O'Dell's display, the Bolean's just kept taking pictures and the older woman sighed and flipped through her book absentmindedly.

"Aye, aye, Ah ment no fense, wee lass a'the heatherr. We're simple coontry folk annae use'ta alla these different... types. Boot yuir are guests, and all'r welcome, aye?"

"Aye... he's sayin we're all honored guests and we're welcome," Fiona explained to the crowd of alien tourists, who seemed slightly suspicious, but took it in stride. Lots of the locals were excitable, and they tended to communicate in such rapid staccato bursts of high spirited communication, so this was not much out of the ordinary for them to have witnessed on the Emerald Isle. Taking Minnie's hand in one of her own and Gavarus' in the other, Fiona glowered challengingly at the white-haired old gent, who began leading the way up the path to the castle.

"Cuim along, cuim along ye... les git oota this bluiddy weather afore it its, aye?"

As they all walked in, Minnie had her little tongue sticking out the side of her mouth as she watched her own hooves. Wobbling forward, concentrating intently on walking and letting out the occasional laugh after a few successful steps, though it was clear from the occasional tugs that she would have faceplanted a few times had her moms not been holding her up.

"Okay, the normal talking I understood since... it kinda just sounds like you when you get really plastered..." Briaar leaned over, whispering to her pint-sized partner. "But, uh, the Gaelic... I dooooo... NOT want to know what he said about us, do I?"

The epic eyeroll Gavarus received as a reply spoke volumes, as Fiona exercised her habit of 'not going into it'. Whenever someone spoke ill of her porcine partner, the feisty O'Dell was quick to rise to her defense, rapidly escalating to physical altercation despite her diminutive size and lack of physical strength, endurance or fighting prowess. It would seem that when it came to defending her newly adopted babe, that same proclivity extended to her, if anything magnified by an insult to them both. An insult which she refused to repeat nor elaborate upon, because if they had not been hurt by it the first time, Fiona O'Dell would see to it they never would.

While people might jape and jeer at Fiona herself, that she would take in stride, having been a short 90-pound weakling all her life. Bu no one disrespected anyone or anything that she cared about, which would be a defining characteristic that her wee charge would learn, and adopt in time.

Looking down at Minnie, Briaar smirked slightly and faux-whispered. "Did'ja see that look, Minnie Moo? That means 'don't ask your Mum that question'. Beware the eyeroll, Minnie. Bewaaaarreee." Looking up, the tiny Minotaur giggled at the towering Tellarite.

"It did not look this run down in the brochures... is this place still structurally sound?" the male of the Klingon couple asked aloud.

"Aye, s'been standin fer five hundred years. Maybe when yuir the same age ye kin complain aboot yuir structural sounding, aye?" O'Dell snapped back. "She's bin cleared by the Irish Tourism Board, so that means she's nae only structurally sound but she's a bluiddy delight inside, and reputed to be haunted by ghosts. So dinna be bashin her ootsides- she's fine Irish craftsmanship built to stand the ages, so nivvir ye mind!"

Ahead of them, the old caretaker Mr. Plunkett snickered. He might have just endured a tongue lashing by the wee spirited sprite, but it warmed his heart that she'd defend her heritage and her ancestry just as quickly. The older woman bringing up the rear also snickered, but so quietly no one noticed.

Looking around the interior main hall, the Boleans began taking even more excited holoscans, as the Klingon couple scoffed loudly. Meanwhile, their quiet young son was transfixed, looking over at Minnie who was looking around along with everyone else. The Hall was large, with a curved stone staircase going up two flights to a stone balcony overlooking the hall. On one side, was the concierge desk and across the room on the other side of the mismatched couches and chairs was the modestly-sized bar that Briaar tugged on Fiona's hand and gestured to with her snout. "So, I'm ready to check-in so we can get a bit shitfaced."

But while she talked, she felt a tugging. Looking down, Briaar and Fiona noticed Minnie was turning around, trying to waddle over to the old lady at the rear of the group with a wide-eyed expression and a smile. "Lookin' to make new friends, Minnie Moo? Okay, kiddo. After we get checked in." With which the portly Porcine hoisted the newly ambulatory tot up on her hip to make sure she didn't keep trying to pull away. For her part Minerva made a snort of disapproval, surprising herself with the sound and distracting her from the source of her frustration, which was being denied.

Their luggage was brought up from the shuttle on a cart, then hauled up the stairs to the upstairs accommodations by the porter, the old-fashioned way rather than using a grav-sled, and Briaar noted that the wireless fixtures were still a hundred years behind the times at least. The stubbornness of O'Dell's people to cling to the 'old ways' was quite clear in their roots here on Earth, it seemed. The bed was all it had been in the brochure, large enough that they set Minnie to crawl across it and they had time to unpack in between turning her around and sending her after the other parent.

The room in which that grand canopy bed stood was made of stone, cold, and actually quite drafty. But rugs were strategically placed to make walking without shoes accomodatable, and beside the bed was a roaring fire- which, though convincing, for safety reasons was holographic- was still putting out a considerable amount of heat and light that lent comfort to the room in more ways than one. Rolling up Minnie's sleeves, a chore she suspected was going to be perennial for a while, Fiona took it all in with a smile.

"This is bloody brilliant, Briaar. Thankey fuir this- stayin' in a real live castle, on a proper family holiday, takin holos and joost... livin life, aye? This is the good stoof, aye?" Getting dewey-eyed, the little leprechaun in the bright green woolen sweater awkwardly ran across the room in the Irish castle, trying to hit offensive stereotype bingo. Wrapping her arms in a hug about the waist of her partner, or at least as much as she could manage, Fiona O'Dell expressed herself without the benefit of alcohol or similar brain damage.

Looking down, Briaar looked part confused and part concerned. The emotions of being in a family like this were still fairly new to both women and the atypical Tellarite was still learning how to react. Because even though Fiona had expressed happiness, teary eyes still activated Briaar’s tendency to feel guilty and think she might have done something wrong. “Uh… Is… is… are you okay, Fee?”

"Thank ye fuir this, Briaar Gavarus. Fer ye and mee, and the wee one there. I nivvir... Ah thought I'd be alone me whole life, ye know? Who'd poot up wi' the likes 'a me, aye? Until there was you." Pulling back a bit so they could make eye contact, those bright green eyes with flecks of gold glinting on them fixed on the dark brown eyes of the space swine. "How... us, who were neither g'win ta poot a bebe in t'other somehow ended up wi' an adorable tot... together."

Now, with some fairly concrete evidence that all was, if fact, better than fine, Briaar had a wide smile on her own face and was nodding as she looked down.

"If ye'd a'told me six months ago where I'd be today I'da called ye a fool and a liar. Yet here we are, and... ye make me happy and I hope I make ye happy, and I know she makes us both happy." Grasping one of the posts of the bed, Minne had pulled herself upright, steadying herself with the stable object. Scooping the miniature minotaur off the bed with a grunt, O'Dell swung her into the family hug. "G'win ta break me heart the first time I canna pick ye oop, wee gel. I hope it doesnae break me back too..."

“I know. Sometimes I… I go to sleep scared I’ll wake up and it won’t be real. And none of it makes sense, but yeah. Yeah, you make me very happy. I don’t think I’ve ever been this happy. First you and now her and I don’t know how it all happened to me of all people.” Briaar said, wiping her own cheek and trying to not let herself get overly emotional. Thankfully, it was easy to refocus with Minnie, who just had to smile and let out a moo or giggle to reset both of their brains on the positive.

A change for Minnie and a fresh bottle, and the trio of trouble were down the stairs again, headed to the bar. The silver-haired librarian was reading on one of the mismatched sofas with a cup of tea sitting on her small stack of books, clearly enjoying her own space. A local was parked at the bar, a gentleman in a fleece and leather coat with a rather bulbous red nose which indicated a lifetime of alcohol abuse. The caretaker, Mr, Plunkett was seated at the bar as well, which was being tended by a silver-haired elder gentleman smoking a pipe, the aromatic tobacco lending a bit of pub atmosphere.

With almost a sixth sense for detecting serious drinkers, the older man smiled, tipped his head as he dried off a glass with a dishrag and addressed the most unusual family. “So, what c'n I git fer ya', ladies?

Minnie, held in Fiona’s arms, looked up at the bulbous nose of the local at the bar with wide-eyed wonder and started reaching out with her trademark grabby hands. Meanwhile, Briaar put her hands on her wide hips and snorted lightly. “What do I want? Hmmm.” Then she turned with a smirk to her pint-sized partner and smiled. “Well, I’m not flyin’ tonight, so get me drunk, lady. You know the local poisons best. I leave my inebriation in your capable hands.”

"Well, Guiness is tradition cuz ye kin get it innywhere, but since we're here at the source, howzaboot one a'them and we'll try a Bulmers, because I dinna think we're north enow for it to be Magners. Tis a refreshing sweet Irish cider, brewed in Tipperary. Ye'll like that. But let's start wi' a right proper drink, so a round of Jameson and one of Bushmill's please, shots on the bar, and one for the house as well, aye?" Understanding bar culture amongst her ancestors, Fiona was sure to buy a shot of whiskey for the two gents at the bar as well as the bartender, to ingratiate themselves to the locals. "In fact, make et a dobul, aye?"

The bartender smiled broadly at that- the wee lass might have brought a pig and a cow to the bar, but she was buying rounds, so clearly she was a rum sport and would be less trouble than most. "Aye lass, happy t'ablige. Jameson or Bushmills for the house?"

"Why not one of each, m'laird, seeing as how we're on vacation and this fella looks like he could use a proper warmin' of his bones, aye?" Fiona gently patted Peter Plunkett on his back, which surprised the elderly caretaker. Apparently forgiving and forgetting was also her way, which brought a smile to his face.

"Ach, thas quite decent of ye lass, an' generous too ta oaffer. I'll drink to yuir health!" Even as the old man spoke, the grey-haired bartender was pouring the shots with practiced ease, 4 at a time and delivering them to the small bar. As they arrived, old Plunkett raised the first of his shots in toast. "Slainte!"

Taking her glass and holding it up, Briaar smiled and replied, "Damn frickin' skippy!" tossing her shot back and cleaning it off with ease. The Tellarite engineer winced slightly as it went down and chuckled as she did. "Yeah, that's good shit. That's gonna kick my fat ass later alright, Fee."

Then looking to the bar, Briaar did a doubletake as the bartender appeared to be on the other end when she was sure he had just been in front of her. Shrugging it off, she leaned over and offered her glass up for another and the bartender took it to refill with a smile.

With a fresh drink, she looked down at the wee Minotaur babe in Fiona's arms. "Hey there, Minnie Moo. You wanna come up here and sit with your moms?"

For the first time, the bouncing baby did more than giggle or chortle and instead actually nodded back with a huge smile and made grabby hands for the portly porcine. "Holy SHIT, Fee! Did you see that!?! Minnie NODDED!!!"

"Smartest wee babe on two hooves, our gel is! Well, ye know what they say, what yuir fookin' mouth, because they understand more'n ye think and they are learning all the time," Fiona declared, taking a delicate sip of her first shot and savoring the flavor. As a classic lightweight, she could hold her liquor, she just had to take it slowly. "Mmmm, that's the good stoof right there. Alreet wee one- dinna ye worry mate, that diaper's Starfleet issue and she'll nae make a mess on the bar. Besides, we have ta teach her bar etiquette sooner than later, just like me Da taught me. Alreet now, where's the darts, while I kin still hold one..."

The early evening began to drift into night as the unconventional family made their way through the castle’s common areas. Even drinking, Fiona O’Dell was fairly good at throwing darts and even better when Briaar picked her up for a better and higher angle. It was a technique that was all in good fun, but one they wisely chose to nix when the Klingon family had made their way down from their room and decided to play.

Now ambulatory, Minnie was a bit harder to keep an eye on, however, as she wanted to get up and explore as much of the castle as she could waddle across. Thus leaving Briaar to run out to the shuttle and get her travel playpen, to corral the tiny toy and ply her with her favorite toys to get her to run around a bit less.

The Bolean couple seemed to want to make a career of taking pictures of the miniature Minotaur, however, and that helped occupy her attention a bit. As did the slightly older Klingon boy who was sturdy enough to play with Minnie without getting hurt, and the two seemed to be making games and fun for one another, even to the point of her headbutting him, and him headbutting back, to both their delights.

After another potato heavy meal, interspersed with a number of dishes Fiona advised Briaar not to eat. The meal was one of two vegetarian options chosen among the guests, as both Briaar and the older woman, nicknamed ‘the Librarian’, opted for such. But as everyone ate, Minnie seemed transfixed on the older woman, who seemed to be doing her best to pretend she was alone in the room. Ever so often she reached for her, which led to one or both of them having to restrain the bouncing babe not to crawl across the table to get at the stranger she seemed so fixated upon. Rising from the table and taking in the odd swords and shields with heraldric crests upon them that were not unlike the one hanging in Fiona's quarters, O’Dell let out a yip of delight when she discovered something she called a ‘virginal’.

“So, what the hell is this, Fee?” Briaar said, slurring slightly with a baby in one arm and a large beer in the other. “Looks like a teeny organ had a baby with a cuckoo clock or something?”\

"Yuir nae far off, mate," O'Dell replied. "Tis a stringed instrument, but ye play it wi' a keyboard, like a piano, but much smaller and the sound is much mighter and more akin to a harp than a piano or an organ- those use wind through pipes, y'see."

"Ye know yuir instruments, m'wee lassie. D'ye know how to tune one?" the elderly caretaker asked as he pushed back from the table, a coffee spiked with whiskey and a dollop of cream in his hand.

"Aye, I've the ear for it, if ye dinna mind?" O'Dell replied, and at the upraised mug of the caretaker, she opened it expertly and began fiddling with it, striking keys that did sound more like a small piano than anything else, and within a few minutes, she had it tuned by ear. At the nod of acquiescence from Mr. Plunkett, she began tinkling away at the small instrument, to which she seemed quite ideally sized. As the chords flowed out, Fiona began to sing, with a nod of her head to her partner to come close as she sang a lullaby that seemed appropriate to their wee bairn.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_Tu0RJIZRrM

The lilting voice of the tiny test pilot seemed stronger in the small hall, and as she sang, silence fell. For the locals, it was a lovely rendition of the Castle of Dromore, a haunting melody long associated with the place itself, and it was moving to her it sung so well. For Minerva Carrot, it was a sweet lullaby she would grow up hearing, and in turn sing someday to her own children. Even the Klingons, vaguely dissatisfied with everything, gave pause to listen to Fiona's operatic and gentle rendition of the classic and ancient tune, and when she finished, there were few dry eyes in the house and a very asleep baby. Even the Klingon youngster had passed out, lulled to sleep by the siren's song.

Most everyone was smiling and wiping her eyes as the room went quiet for just a moment as Fiona turned to take a bow with a wide, beaming smile of her own as Gavarus wiped away a tear and bit her bottom lip with a smile. But before she could, a wailing moan suddenly echoed through the drafty hall.

"What the effin' @$&# was THAT?!" Briaar whisper/shouted at the eerie sound that still seemed to be hovering in the space while everyone was looking around, confused. The Bolean's pulled their cameras up. The Klingons took defensive positions around their still sleeping child. Briaar hugged Minnie a little tighter, who simply tucked herself in to her new mother's soft chest, still out like a light. From the back of the assembly, the elder Librarian closed her book and cricked an eyebrow curiously.

"S'a ghost... seems everybody's a critic," O'Dell joked nervously, trying to shrug off the raised hairs on the back of her neck and arms. even as Plunkett shook his head.

"Nae, muh wee lassie, that there's likely the ghost of Lady Beresford, whose harpsichord yuir playin right there. She dinna like innyone touchin' it in life, and apparently, she's nae moor open-minded aboot it in death, aye?"

"Haunted harpsichord. Loverly. Joost what I wanted on my vacaaaation, to get haunted fer knowin how to play an 800 year old instrument, aye?" While she joked to try to shrug it off, O'Dell still got up from the low bench of the instrument and stood with her shoulder against her much larger partner, a clear demonstration of insecurity afoot.

"Ghosts? Are you frickin' kidding me? That's a bunch of horseshit." Briaar said with a dismissive scoff and a smirk. "It's probably just something… sciencey. Wind through the rafters or something that just kinda sounds like a creepy, dead chick having an orgasm. There's no such thing."

But regardless, the portly porcine held her partner a little tighter all the same while the silver-haired bookworm rolled her eyes, cracked her book back open and went back to reading as she sat in the chair nearest the supposed haunted instrument.

"Let's not pess 'em off if they are ghosts, alreet Briaar?" Fiona whispered, then raised her voice to a more conversational level. "After alla that, what say we have a nightcap, all? I know I could use a drink..."

The collection of strangers gathered together under the roof of the ancient castle reconvened in the main room about the bar, and Fiona took a shot of whiskey, not sipping it but tossing it back, her hands trembling slightly. The Klingon couple was muttering in Klingon to one another, one hand never straying from the daggers at their belts even as they carried their sleeping son to place him on the couch. When Minnie got a bit heavy for Gavarus, she placed her gently beside the young Klingon and bot leaned against one another as they dozed.

"Actual out of phasic entities that are repeating actions in life brought on my material world stimulus? This is fascinating. I wonder if they form free-floating apparitions. Oooh, if they do, would they look as they did in life, or at the time of their death, or as their corporeal forms appear today, I wonder?" The Bolean tourists were eating up the ghost story, even as the librarian's eyes flickered up, then made a show of not paying attention and O'Dell ordered another shot of whiskey.

The tone of the room lightened with the liberal application of more alcohol, which the bartender was only more than happy to add to everyone’s room tabs with a friendly smile. And while there were no more wailing or moaning, the evening did not progress without any more unusual incidents.

At one point, the heavy, wooden castle doors slowly opened in spite of the lack of any wind or anyone actually pulling at the door. Not too long afterward, one of the table lamps turned itself on and then back off again. Finally, the Boleans were all but certain that they saw a shadowy woman on the balcony when nobody else was looking, and it was the one moment that their cameras weren’t at the ready. Briaar had attempted to explain everything with flimsily structured pseudoscience as if she knew what she was talking about, but even the assistant Engineer was noticeably creeped out and running out of explanations.

Before too long, awkward goodnights were said, the kids were gently picked up and all the guests made their way to their respective rooms for the night and all mostly all very drunk.

To Be Continued...

It was hours later, and Briaar, Fiona and Baby Minnie were all cuddled up together on the comfortably large bed. The room was drafty and the window frame creaked, but the blanket was thick and The very large Tellarite was providing enough body heat for the entire family as they snored, one on top of the other.

From across the mid-sized room, the dark fireplace began to make sounds as it there was a fire in it, and little Minnie began to stir at the sound as her bovine ears twitched.

As Briaar and Fiona slept hard thanks to copious amounts of whiskey, the tiny tot raised her head and blinked the sleep out of her eyes as she looked towards the source of the invisible, crackling fire. And as she looked, a small green orb of light appeared in the fireplace and slowly floated across the room towards the door and passed through to the other side.

Letting out a confused snort, there came a new sound from just outside the door as Minnie began to awkwardly crawl over Briaar’s doubly ample belly, which caused the Minotaur’s mom to snore a little louder and stir a bit. Then, with a bit more physical dexterity than one might have attributed to her, she climbed past Briaar and slid down the thick quilt to thump her diapered bottom on the hardwood floor. As she fell off the bed, she let out a startled moo that finally woke up the ginger test pilot.

The test pilot who could now hear the strange sound outside the door. The sound of the song she had been playing earlier being hummed as a green glow came from the crack below the door.

Going from a drunken slumber to full wakefulness by the prospect that a supernatural entity was singing an alluring lullaby to her child, Fiona O'Dell scrabbled about the bed, looking for Minnie. "Minerva? Minnie Moo? Minerva Moo Mary Margaret Mona Carrot, where are ye, child?" In a panic, Fiona began pulling and thrashing with the blankets, rousing her snoring partner as she acted in the impulse that the only defense against ghostly singing was to corral the baby, of course.

Who was up and waddling her way toward the door. Toward the door that was opening slowly, to illuminate the room oh so slightly with a spectral glowing green form of a female figure, singing the haunting lullaby in an unearthly echoing voice.

Muttering, still more than half-asleep, Briaar pulled at the blankets petulantly. “What’r y’ doin’, Fee? G’back t’ sleep.”

Inhaling sharply, eyes wide in shock, Fiona let out a banshee's wail and vaulted from the bed, kneeing Gavarus in the ribs in the process as she scrambled across the floor to rescue her child from an otherworldly presence that clearly had sinister designs.

At that, Briaar was shocked wide awake and let out a loud ‘OOOF’ of her own as she tried to right herself on the bed and look to see where her partner had run off too. But it was a spastic bit of flailing and turning to follow the sound that led to all 190 kilograms of the tubby Tellarite rolling off the bed and slapping hard on the old wooden floor.

As she fell, she let out a string of obscenities in protest, her eyes wide with surprise. “HOLY @#$%ING SHIT!!! SHITSHITSHIT!!! GYAAAGHHH!!!

Righting herself quickly, Briaar saw the same thing Fiona was looking at. The ghostly, green glowing form of a woman in a flowing dress beckoning towards their entranced daughter. And she watched as that same daughter was waddling towards the figure with more than a little too much speed. Scrambling from the floor, Briaar was right behind Fiona as they hauled ass after Minnie into the hall.

But where the ethereal specter went left, Minnie suddenly went right. But with the speed with which the two were trying to catch up, they both went straight into the cold, stone wall opposite their door. “OWW, DAMMIT!” They both cried in unison as they looked around to find their daughter.

The otherworldly visage was nowhere to be found. No green glow. No haunting singing. Just little Minnie, standing with her head tilted in puzzlement as she looked down the end of the hall. And at the end of the hall, stood the old silver-haired woman they had nicknamed ‘The Librarian’.

Looking first at Minnie with what almost looked like a smile, then up at the odd couple, the woman’s face looked surprised. Then, little Minnie turned back to her parents with a giddy smile. She balled up her tiny fists and wiggled with excitement, giggling and then pointing at the mysterious woman who closed the book in her hands and stepped back to turn a corner and vanish into the darkness.

“What the effin’ @#$%! It’s HER? Is she doin’ all this creepy shit, Fee?” Gavarus said as she stomped over to sweep little Minnie up in a bear hug of protection.

"We're g'win ta find oot, b'gawd," O'Dell growled, pumped on adrenaline and turning her fear quite quickly into overprotective parental anger. "HEY, YE? I'll have words with ye, dinna ye be runnin off joost yet!" Barefooted, clad in an oversized T-shirt advertising three cartoonish figures and the logo 'Pigs In Space', Fiona pushed up the sleeves of the garment as she stormed down the hall after the Librarian.

Right behind her, Gavarus’ porcine hooves clicked and clacked loudly on the cold, stone floors of the hall, clutching Minnie tightly. While they turned the corner, rushing after the retreating woman, Minnie was giggling like it was a fun adventure. Meanwhile, her anxious mother, the taller of the two, was muttering under her breath as they ran, “Shit, shit, shit, shit...>”

Making their way to the main staircase to the great hall, they paused for a moment to look. The woman dubbed the Librarian was nowhere to be seen. But at this point, Fiona was too mad to be scared, and whatever the old woman was, she was no ghost.

“Where the hell did she go, Fee?” Briaar asked in a whisper as they made their way down the stairs to the main hall.

Pivoting in place looking around, looking up, looking down and coming up with no evidence of the silver-haired schoolmarm, O'Dell fumed. "Bloody ghost singin creepin me oot and tryin' ta make off wi' oor bebeh... bedamned ghosts best stay away from me daaater or they'll get the strap... somehow," the picayune pilot grumbled in a reasonable impression of her own father as she checked on Minnie, who was reaching intently over Fiona's head toward an empty corner, making grabby hands and giggling at nothing.

"What? What tis it, wee missy? What are ye wantin' oover..." Turning to follow the child's gaze, Fiona leaned against Gavarus, then peered intently at the corner. Seeing no ghostly manifestation... manifest, the little lass wagged her finger at the empty corner. "Pess off, ghosties. Dinna be tempting me girl to be no bridge twixt the livin' and the dead. We'll have nunna that, now. Run along or stay stuck here, whichivvir suits yuir fancy."

Which was when the empty corner sneezed, and O'Dell blanched back, spreading her arms behind her as if to protect Gavarus' thighs.

"Gah! Gahhh!" Minnie squealed delightedly, and O'Dell's eyes narrowed. Exchanging a look with Gavarus, the space hog held the baby out slowly and carefully as the toddler wriggled and squirmed in anticipation, making a happy lowing sound. As they reached the corner, O'Dell stayed in close to the babe, to see what she was after when she bumped into something that wasn't there. Which was when Minnie found something to latch onto, and she pulled sometone who wasn't there forward just at bit- a remarkable feat of strength and coordination for a three-month-old toddler.

“Oh, Fvadt.” Came a slightly familiar voice with a familiar curse from the empty space as forward, stumbled the silver-haired librarian as what appeared to be the telltale shimmer of a cloaking device rippled away from her. In her hands was still one of her books. Clearly, Minnie hadn’t been fooled by the technological display, however, her happy excitement over the unfamiliar stranger was still a bit of a mystery. At least for a moment.

“Okay, lady! What the effin’ @#$% is the deal?! Clearly, you’ve got some high-end holographics tech and think @#$%ing with us is funny.” Briaar ranted as, with Minnie tucked back on her hip still reaching for the mystery woman, she snatched the book out of the Librarian’s hand.

“Wait, don’t…” The Librarian protested lightly as the porcine Engineer opened it up, and as she did, her face looked more than a little surprised.

“Uh… Fee. Check this out.” Briaar held the open book down to her fuming partner to reveal not an old book as it seemed to be, but a cleverly concealed PaDD and Tricorder assembly. All of it, Starfleet technology.

"AWaaaaaitaminnit," O'Dell's eyes narrowed as her jaw stuck out defiantly and her pale skin blushed a bit. However, whatever she was about to say was lost in an excited shouting from the Bolean's room, as one of them stuck their heads out the door. "You have GOT to see this!!"

Grabbing the Librarian's wrist, the spindly O'Dell began marching to the room of the blue group, dragging the spinster along. "Whativvir's happening I'm nae lettin' ye oota me sight," Fiona grumbled as she stalked over to see another ghost, a spectral maiden singing the same creepy rendition of the Castle's own song, in a haunting lullabye as the Boleans filmed it excitedly.

"This is one of your local ghosts, yes?" the tourist asked excitedly, recording the phenomenon with a number of devices simultaneously.

Hesitantly taking up the rear, clutching Minnie tight, Briaar looking in with a raised eyebrow. All the while, the tiny tot on her hip kept smiling over at the silver-haired enigma that Fiona was clamped onto. And as she did, the concealed tricorder in the book she was holding began displaying data.

"What the hell? Fee. The old lady's book thingy. Check this shit out. It's been recording scan data on all this bullshit." Holding the book up to the room, it blinked silently as she waved it around at the ceiling.

"Frickin' HOLOEMITERS all over the room. Not just the fireplace. There's one in that corner of the ceiling, two behind the mirror. I bet this castle is loaded with the things." Then the testy Tellarite looked back at the Librarian with an angry glare. "Okay lady! What's your effed up game?"

But before the mysterious woman who had been doing her best to keep quiet could speak, the Klingons came out of their room from down the hall with a series of conspicuous bruises and torn nightclothes. "I sware by Kah'less, it is impossible to… uh… sleep in this castle! What nonsense is this?" The male Klingon shouted as they stomped over.

And at the same time, the Castle's master, Peter Plunkett, came rushing down the hallway towards all the commotion.

"What's all the ruckus and bejeezis doown here! Y'think you people'd seen a ghost!" the old man complained vocieferously as he came down the hallway in his nightshirt with his dressing robe over top of it and his slippered feet slapping the stone floor. As gavarus turned the tricorder toward the old man, his face fell, and his shoulders slumped. "Ah, bollocks."

"Aye, bollocks if fookin' right! So alla this is just bogus tourist trapo crap ta spook people so thay'll stay in yuir bloody draft-arsed castle? Because ye've rigged up a holographic fookin ghopst ta scare the crap an' crackers oota people. And then there's yuir accomplice here..." Fiona O'Dell turned on the 'Librarian' she had suspected of being a ghost, a kidnapper of just a Sinister Person of Interest. Whoever she was, it was time for the unmasking and the end to the tomfoolery, which was somehow less fun when she was not the one instituting it, and it made her heart leap out of her chest for concern for her baby. "Aaaaaalreet, we know tis a holgram, lady, so give it oop and let's see who ye really are, aye?"

The silver-haired woman rolled her eyes dramatically and looked at the tiny Minotaur who was still staring at her with a smile and an extremely familiar voice. “You know, don’t you, little one?”

Listening, Briaar squinted slightly and then looked down at Fiona with confusion as the Librarian reached into a pocket in her fuzzy sweater. And as she did, she continued, “I’m not his asinine accomplice, Ensign. I was attempting to keep you two out of trouble when I discovered this little tourist scam and began investigating.”

And with a chirp, the hologram dropped and little Minnie squealed with glee. As instead of the silver-haired woman, there stood the Hera’s independent Intel operative and Fiona and Briaar’s most unusual drinking buddy, Mrs. Jaeih Dox.

"GRANNY MURDER-PUNCH?!?" Gavarus and O'Dell exclaimed in unison, even as Minnie squealed in delight and reached for the pointy-eared maven of subterfuge with delight.

"So THAT's why Minnie was trying to get to her so hard... but why was she chasing the ghost?" O'Dell puzzled as she withdrew the hand holding the Romulan operative's wrist as if it were red hot, as the midget Maroposian knew the capabilities of the older woman and held a more than healthy amount of fear for the woman's hand-to-hand prowess. For her part, Jaeih looked down at O’Dell and simply rolled her eyes at the reaction.

"Ach, that'd likely be me fault, mum. Y'see, yuir lullaby was so hauntin', I ran it through some filters and echoed it a bit to make it sound more uneartlhy, then added it to me phantom lady of the castle. So yuir wee bairn there was most likely coomin fer the ghost, a'cause twas the voice of her dam she heard, aye?" Getting blank stares all around, the caretaker rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. "Look, tis nae easy to run a hotel, and not ivveryone is willing to come to a noo transporter zone. So a man does what he must to feed his family, aye?"

"And I'da gotten awee with it too, if t'weren't fuir ye meddlin' kid and your wee cow!" the elderly caretaker declared, then adding in a mutter. "...and yuir librarian, and yuir giant space pig..."

“Oh, you have two ex-wives and no children to speak of, Mr. Plunkett.” Jaieh said with a cricked eyebrow and a flat expression. “Still, there’s no harm done and all you were trying to do was create an entertaining experience. There’s no record of theft, assault or any other illicit activities here for the duration of your tenure as caretaker.”

The elder Romulan locked eyes with the old Irishman and dropped her tone slightly as she continued, “Which is fortunate for you because, believe me, had my investigation determined that you were a legitimate threat to these three, this conversation would be going VERY differently.” Then her tone raised again. “Simply market this as it is: A RECREATION of a Ghostly experience in a haunted ancient Irish Castle. Make it… a mystery theater, of sorts.”

Listening, the two Klingon’s finally chimed in as the Boleans were simply filming the entire scene as it unfolded. “Wait! So these spirits are some form of elaborate RUSE, and we dined with a ROMULAN!?”

"Aye, tis an entertainment, like she said. And aye, ye dined wi' a Romulan and she dinna eat yuir bebeh. Git oover it," Fiona O'Dell turned on the Klingons just as quickly. "Noow let's go to the bar, where our Mr. Plunkett will pour us all some drinks on the house, then ye kin git back to yuir Pon Farr or whativvir ye call it in Klingonese, and we'll all have quite a vacation story to tell, now won't we?"

Leaning over with a smirk, Jaeih whispered to O’Dell, “Just so you know, it’s ‘nga’chuq’.”

Without waiting for a reply, the small spitfire grabbed Plunkett's hand with one of hers and tugged at Gavarus' elbow, who didn't need much coaxing in the direction of free drinks whatever the hour. With the confidence of a fool convinced the parade is following them, O'Dell led the way to the bar.

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

After a long and unusually eventful evening, most of the hotel guests had slept in extremely late, and Fiona and Briaar were no exceptions. Of course, little Minnie was up at the crack of dawn wanting to play. But this time the inebriated couple could sleep through the bouncing baby's need to play, thanks to the unexpected arrival of a willing babysitter who rarely slept late.

But eventually, noon rolled around and the odd couple that had become the odd family was begrudgingly awake and packing to return to the Hera. With their empty luggage on the bed, Briaar was stuffing their clothes in like a college student on leave while Fiona was packing the diaper bag with military precision. And in a plush chair in the corner, Jaeih had Minnie on her knee, bouncing her up and down.

As Minnie giggled with the elder Romulan that she clearly liked, the towering Tellarite leaned over with a quizzical expression, “So… uh… how long have you been… ya’ know… following us, Mrs. Dox?”

Cricking an eyebrow, Jaeih leaned over slightly while wagging a finger at the mini Minotaur and replied plainly, “I was dropped off via shuttle from the ship shortly after receiving your first set of images of the little one here. But I did not wish to disrupt your day in Clonakilty when I arrived, so I simply found a place on the periphery to observe and make sure you two stayed out of trouble. And I will admit, this little one was extremely adorable playing with those sheep.”

"While I moost admit, I nivvir thought ye'd come, I'm right glad ye did, Mrs. Dox," O'Dell admitted. "Fresh air, beautiful countryside... a right proper vacation, aye? And, ah, we dinna ask ye to come along to bebesit, but tisnae unwelcome either. We're glad ye came... even if ye did it in yuir own spooky stalkerish vaguely terrifying sorta way."

"Well, I wouldn't want to disrupt your expectations of me, Ensign. But yes, I am as well, glad I came. Wouldn't you agree, Miss Minerva Moo Mary Margaret Mona Carrot, Hm?" At that, the stern-faced Romulan woman's face split in a prim smile, to which Minnie gave a bubbly laugh and an enthusiastic nod. Turning the baby to regard her unconventional parents, the master spy turned professional grandmother bowed her head slightly.

"A right proper vacation indeed."

It had been over a week and a half since arriving on Earth at Starfleet Command for her official debriefings at Intel Command, but already Lieutenant Mnhei'sahe Dox was done with the whole affair.

After a month of captivity on a Romulan Warbird, she had to convince a phalanx of Admirals, counselors, diplomats and more that she was fit to return to duty and that day had been particularly taxing. Her most recent meeting, which had actually been with the Hera's own Lieutenant Commander Sonak, who was acting as a representative of the Vulcan government was productive but she was exhausted. Thankfully, nights offered at least some reprieve.

Beamed out onto the main mall of Starfleet Command from her meetings with the Admirals in the Intel Complex, Dox was met by Petty Officer's V'Nus and S'Rina Wil'I'ams. The Klingon sisters had been assigned to protect Dox while she was at Starfleet and did their jobs diligently. And while she was happy they were there, that wasn't who she was looking forward to seeing.

Captain Telvan had pulled some strings and made arrangements for Dox's wife and Bond-mate, Mona Gonadie, to be able to stay with her in the assigned quarters she was given during the two weeks of briefings. So the trio made their way across the campus to an Officer's lounge and restaurant for dinner after a long and draining day. Entering the busy restaurant, there were a number of eyes that immediately shot over to take in the unusual sight of a Romulan Starfleet officer with two female Klingon security officers flanking her. But the stares abated quickly, and Dox saw who she was looking for.

Out on the picturesque balcony overlooking the sunset on the San Francisco Bay, was the brilliantly plumed Miradonian pilot and inventor. She had all but kept from her seat and waved her wife over with a beaming smile. She was wearing one of her vibrant green and purple maternity dresses and was becoming more visibly pregnant with each passing day.

To give the couple privacy, the sisters took up positions at two separate tables near the table Mona was at as Dox all but rushed out to the balcony. "Jhu Dhael, I am so glad to see you."

Not caring about professional decorum as they weren't on the ship, Dox met Mona near the table and wrapped her arms around her love with a tight embrace as she called her 'angel bird' in Dox's native Rihan.

"My Minay, I've missed you so much over these briefings, but I understand you have to focus. I just wish you could have seen the things I've seen today." Mona used her nickname for Mnhei'sahe, Minay, after the Miradonian moon goddess as they embraced and sat down for dinner, hand in hand. "I hope you don't mind, but I took the liberty of ordering for everyone. A baked cheesy tofu egg noodle casserole with a side of honeyed pears for us and rare pork loin strips with a bowl of bloodwurst for the Wil'I'Ams sisters."

With the warm smile she rarely shared with anyone, Mnhie'sahe chuckled lightly. As usual, Mona knew exactly what she needed, and tonight it was her, food and distractions. Sitting down, the haggard young officer did her level best to NOT look as tired as she felt and she replied, "I'm sure that will be fine for them, and what you ordered sounds wonderful. Please, take as many liberties as possible... I don't want any more agency tonight. Heh."

Leaning forward on her elbows, Dox took a sip of the water already on the table, wishing for just the slightest of moments that it was something much stronger. But she pushed that particular thought away and nodded. "So, what did you see? It sounds like you had a much more exciting day then I did talking to intel directors that all think they're the most clever person in the room."

"Which is ironic since for once, I felt like I might not have been the most clever person in the room a couple times this week," Mona replied as she ran one finger down Dox's nose, a wide grin going almost ear to ear. "I visited Akihabara, Japan's electronics district, to check out the robotics scene. They've already got the Banshee and not only started using the design in robot fights, but improved upon it. I showed one of them my plans for the next version and within an hour we had it completely redesigned for competitions and a prototype built."

Smiling, Dox could still feel the energy from Mona's touch strengthening their empathic bond as it always did. And today, that felt more wonderful than normal as she listened intently. As a general rule, she knew her wife usually was the most clever person in any given room. And while the title of 'Mad Scientist of the Hera' usually went to the equally inventive Ila Dedjoy, Mona Gonadie was remarkably brilliant.

That brilliance was but one of the countless things that Dox loved about the colorfully plumed inventor sitting across from her at the table. And ultimately, Dox was a tinkerer. She could fix engines and work on her own ship or her hovercycle. She liked getting her hands dirty under and engine and knew her way around most modern computer systems, but she was like a primate with a stick compared to Mona. She knew she couldn't compete with her wife in raw intellect on any level, so she was happy to see that Mona found a place to challenge her while on Earth for the debriefings. "You entered the Banshee in... robot fights? That's amazing. We already know the kind of havoc she can wreak in Ten-Forward. How did she do? Tell me everything."

Without hesitation, the brightly plumed Miradonian launched into it as the servers delivered their food and drinks. "Well... Apparently, there are six different people that built Banshee analogues... They're about forty-centimeter tall remote-controlled robots that you use in these competitive bouts... All based on the information released in the Federation tech journals. I spoke with all of them about the real one and showed them some of my notes on building the real one and I think it helped them. I mean, they're building the analogues for competitions in small holographic environments, but still. And then after the rest had gone back to their shops, one young human was left, still asking questions, so I showed him the plans we had for the Warhawk."

"And he's going to use it in tonight's regional competition," Mona added as she spooned up some of the cheesy noodles and took a bite. "Where the Banshee was built for speed and mobility while transforming, the Warhawk only has robot and walker modes so is a lot more suited to these fights, plus is designed for raw brute strength."

"That's incredible, Mona!" Dox said excitedly, taking a bite of her casserole and knitting her eyebrows as the taste hit her. "It looks like people are genuinely excited by everything you've been doing once Starfleet declassified the papers on your work. I'm really glad. This is fantastic for you. It's a big step in the direction you want your career to go in."

Taking another bite, Dox let out an audible "Mmmmm." And then blushed slightly, turning a slightly deeper shade of olive. "Sorry. I think Starfleet's official policy is to starve me during these debriefings hoping I slip up and say that I'm some kind of nefarious sleeper agent for the Imperium because I'm hungry. Or... what is it that Ensign Gavarus calls it? HANGry?"

"At least the briefings aren't being held in a type nine shuttle. Cramped, hangry, and away from me? I wouldn't stand for it!" Mona giggled softly as she took a couple more bites. "Soon enough all of this will be but a memory and we'll be back on the Hera flying off to new adventures, saving the galaxy from who knows what and those admirals won't have anything to say about it."

"Well, until the next major crisis makes them question one or more of us." Dox shrugged lightly and lowered her voice. They were separated from most of the other diners, largely alone on the balcony save for the Klingon sisters, who Dox trusted implicitly, but it was still an Officer's lounge and she didn't want her concerns to carry.

"I know I shouldn't feel this way, Mona. I know this is all procedure and it exists for a good reason. I know if it was me on the other side, I'd be questioning me too. But…" the embattled Rihannsu woman's shoulders dropped slightly. "But it still feels so much like it did back there… on the Warbird. Being forced to declare my loyalties over and over and being made to feel like a traitor for caring about what happens to the world I come from. Except for my meeting with Sonak, it's just been… distancing. Like they're looking for an excuse to rip the uniform off of the filthy 'Romulan'.

It was a low, emotional confession of her feelings with the one woman she felt the most comfortable with. After all, if she couldn't indulge in at least some self-pity with her own wife, who could she do so with?

If anyone could understand how her bond-mate felt, it was Mona as she reached out and rubbed the back of her Rihannsu mate. "This too shall pass, my Minay. I'm sure they're happy to have you back, but I'm sure they're just following procedure and worried about you, is all. After all, they don't have the same connection to you as myself or even Commander Sonak so they have to go about things in their own way. They'll come around and see you for the wonderful Starfleet officer I know you to be." With that, she leaned in and planted a kiss on Dox's nose.

Shaking her head, Dox couldn't help but smile that much more. "You have more faith than I do, Jhu Dhael. But then, you had more faith in me than I did, too. So you're generally right."

"So, enough about my ennui. Tell me more about this event with the Warchicken prototype? You said it's tonight?" Dox said, changing the subject.

"Right, the first round of the new season is supposed to start in a few minutes I think. The time zones here on Earth are confusing, but I think they time it so that Starfleet Command can watch the opening ceremonies when they get off of work." Mona pulled out a small PaDD and tapped at it for a few seconds before leaning it up against a glass of water, the intro to the bout playing on it.

On the screen was a small 35cm analogue of the Thunderchicken painted in gaudy yellows and greens with Japanese logos and characters all over it, and across from it in a sort of road rally, thunderdome setting filled with tires and 50's style crushed cars was the mech in question - the Warhawk - a full 42 centimeters tall, painted in red, orange, and purple, looking like a muscular version of the Thunderchicken, and covered in armor plates similar to the plumage on Mona's head, it looked like it was ready to eat its competition. In the 'sky', you could see two people looking on on the two mechs with complex remote stations, ready to rumble as the commentator called out specs and stats for each of them.

"That's him, the geeky guy with the prosthetic eye. The other guy had questions too, but it doesn't look like he had time to do more than tweak the leg actuators. Projectiles, grappling, and flight are prohibited so a lot of it is throws and punching, which is why walker mode is so popular." Mona took another bite of her pasta as she wound one arm around Dox's arm.

Taking another fork full of her dinner, Dox looked out over the sunset and across the bay to San Francisco. "I'm sorry that I'm essentially confined to the city during all this. I know you'd like to be there to watch in person. But I'm so glad you've been able to enjoy yourself during the last few days."

Leaning in closer to Mona, Dox sighed pleasantly and looked at the screen with a grin. "Can you imagine what they're going to do if Starfleet ever declassifies your neural interface controls? Still, it's wonderful to see your work having this kind of impact. Inspiring other people."

"Yeah, it really is. They've had a lot of animation and science fiction to inspire them, but I think this is the first time they've had real-world designs to..." Then Mona caught sight of something and squinted at the screen, tapping and zooming in on the cockpit of the Warhawk analogue to reveal that there was a tiny model of herself inside of it. "That cheeky knave..."

Looking at the display, Dox's eyebrows raised slightly at the tiny miniature of Mona in the cockpit of the scaled-down robot. "That's... different." Then she raised and eyebrow and smirked with mock jealousy on her face. "So, WHO was this person again? That's a... unique way to flirt."

"DO I have to go to Japan and fight tiny robots for you? If I have to, you know they'll come with me and take care of this guy if I ask them to, right ladies?" Dox smirked and gestured to the two Klingon sisters sitting at two nearby tables. Clearly paying attention, they both raised a fist and let out a "Q'PLAH!" in unison before going back to their Blood sausage. 

A bit taken aback by first the miniature of herself, then the declaration of intent of harm, then the Klingon sisters pitching in as well, Mona couldn't help but give a nervous chuckle. "No, I'm sure he's just... I don't know... An attempt at flattery or something? He was very respectful and seemed more interested in what we could do to advance the field than in me."

Leaning in a little closer, Dox kissed Mona’s cheek gently and smiled, remembering her bond-mate’s intense reactions to even the idea of violence. “I’m sorry, Jhu Dhael. I’m just joking, I promise. I mean, he might well be flirting with you, but I’m probably the last person to know. After all, how long was it that I was missing all the signals you were giving me? It was… months, I think, before I figured it out and it took you taking all subtlety off the table AND me having an influx of brand new hormones for the first time in my life.”

“Regardless… I trust you and nobody is going to hurt anyone. It was just a bad joke, I’m really sorry.” Dox’s tone was much more subdued as it was clear that she sincerely was apologetic for worrying her love.

"It's ok, my Minay. I just..." Mona sighed heavily before continuing. "I did my best ignoring that these analogues would be used for fighting competitions for simple entertainment rather than saving people or anything like that... And I just... I'm trying to remind myself that maybe the technology will find itself into other fields and that people aren't getting hurt."

“I’m sure it will. I’m sure you’ll make sure of that and help that all develop.” Dox said softly as her mind compiled facts from the various mechs’ existing uses. What she lacked in inventive genius, the Hera’s flight chief made up for in a mind for research and organizing data and finding patterns. In truth, command skills, though she tended to ignore that idea.

“Think about it. When Ensign O’Dell used the Thunderchicken on the bridge of the Bloody Rose, with your technology, she successfully restrained, subdued and made possible the beaming of twelve of her bridge crew without a SINGLE injury… much less a casualty. AND, using the Silver Banshee, she successfully picked you up and moved you through the ship and put you to bed without so much as ruffling a feather.’

“I’m not an expert, but that’s a level of manual dexterity that rivals almost anything going on in robotics, in proportion to its size and power. There have to be medical applications… rescue applications. Mining, Industry. All kinds of things that are light years beyond me. And that’s just based on ONE direction of just ONE of your inventions.” Dox finished, hoping to boost her wife’s spirits and get her mind thinking of the positive possibilities.

"And that's one of the reasons I love you so much. You're always seeing the best in everything. You just need a reminder of the best in you now and then," the brightly plumed woman added, leaning in to rest her forehead against her lover's. "How about I invent it and you market it, then? Sound like a good plan?"

“I have you to remind me.” Dox whispered, her head pressed against Mona’s so she could feel her bond-mate’s breath on her. “Even light-years away, you’re always here to remind me. And now, I think that’s a good idea. I can…”

Mid-sentence, Dox paused as her eyes glanced down to the screen on the PaDD on the table as she spoke with a mix of surprise and pride in her voice, “Uh… in the few seconds we were talking, we missed the match. And the Warchicken won. Significantly.” On the screen, the miniature mech stood victorious over the wreckage of the competing bot.

"I think I may have assisted him a bit too much..." Mona muttered as she glanced over at the outcome of the match. "At this rate, the current champion won't stand a chance."

"Well, then. You'll end up in even more history books then, Professor Gonadie." Dox chuckled, leaning her head against Mona's, evoking the prophetic title that the young Android from the future, Kodria, had let slip when she met the brilliant adventure and mentioned how Mona's innovative flight systems were all the standard in a hundred years time.

"It will still be a couple more days of my debriefings. Will you be going back tomorrow or doing something else?" Dox asked, taking a bite of the desert.

The brightly plumed aviatrix grinned broadly as she heard the term 'Professor' and speared another bite of pasta. "Actually I'm supposed to meet with the Jacque Cousteau Preservation Society tomorrow to discuss some custom underwater explorer designs. They saw the release as well and contacted me through Starfleet Public Affairs and I agreed to a meeting when they came into port. Tomorrow they'll be putting into New Zeee-land or something so I'll be meeting them there."

Beaming with pride for her wife, Dox smile broadly. "That's fantastic, Mona! I didn't even consider those kinds of avenues. We don't get to do much actual exploring on the Hera, but the applications for use in intense environments with your technology must be amazing."

"I am so glad for you, Jhu Dhael. You… you truly are going to change this universe for the better with that brain of yours.

"I wanted to help everyone fly... Well, in a way, this too is flying. Achieving your dreams, be they underwater, in a ring, in the sky..." Mona speared one of the honeyed pears and nibbled on it thoughtfully. "So yeah, I'll be helping them. I mean, the current design is already crush-proof and built to withstand the required pressures. I just have to see what their special requirements are and do a few redesigns, right? From what I'm told they're using an old Class F shuttle with manipulators on it right now so anything at all would be an upgrade."

"Imirrhlhhse… Yeah, I would say so." Dox replied, cursing slightly in her native tongue as she took a drink of water. As she did, she watched the sun sip below the horizon over the bay through the spans of the Golden Gate bridge. Already, the lights of the city sparkled across the vista while the sky faded to a rich magenta with dapples of gold across the few clouds in the sky.

"And you made me fly, that's for sure." Dox reached under the table and room Mona's hand and gripped it tightly. "It's… strange. I was here for only a few years. First for high school, then the academy. And the entire time, I couldn't wait to leave. It was like I was trying to not see any beauty in the place. As if I was… cheating on my dreams of ch'Rihan if I found any other planet beautiful, if that makes any sense."

"But it really is beautiful here, isn't it?"

"There is beauty everywhere," Mona replied with a sappy grin as she watched the same sunset, but reflected in her lover's eyes. "Especially with your smile to make it better."

Inwardly, Alden Engstrom XIII was groaning and wondering if his predecessors ever foresaw a day when a woman the likes of which he was meeting with once more would even exist, let alone be willingly walking around causing temporal and quantum mayhem in her wake. It was unlikely, but after reading some of the other reports that had crossed his desk, it was not entirely unthinkable. The odds of one Rita Paris even surviving all that the universes threw at her were astronomical, but she was indeed still alive and kicking, and it was his sworn duty to document it fully and determine if there was any sort of temporal shenanigans that the DTI would have to account for or set right when they were able.

As for their scheduled meeting, it apparently had to be planned around some lengthy business concerning the Romulan Empire and the DTI conference room was already occupied by a conference call between agents interviewing a potential new agent, so his only choice was to have the meeting in his office.

The same office that every one of his predecessors had used since the founding of the DTI.

To say that the large office was 'cluttered' would be an understatement. It was itself an archaeological dig site. There were models of ships from before the founding of Starfleet, stacks of paper from back when it was made from wood pulp, stacks of antique PaDDs with dead power cells, stacks of boxes full of books on topics that hadn't been touched in decades. Knick-knacks from bygone eras littered shelves, covered in dust. There were even hanging lights that desperately needed to be upgraded to even 22nd century standards. Such was the life of the DTI though, having Starfleet Command built on your roof.

Strolling in like it was her office instead of his, Commander Rita Paris was exactly as he remembered her. All 183 centimeters of her, with a comically curvaceous figure wrapped in that old uniform of hers that just screamed 'anachronism'. The woman was vivacious and sensual, while somehow never being overtly sexual. She was like bomber pin-up art from the 1940's come to life, and when she smiled, it seemed to lend vibrancy to the room.

Which only served to depress him more.

Looking around, she nodded her head, taking it all in. "Nice digs, Director. Could use a good dusting and some organizing, but I'm hardly one to talk. So, I assume I know why I'm here, but I'll be happy to let you tell me. Oh, and I brought you a present!" With that dazzling smile on full display, she set a rectangular box on the desk before him, festooned in pale blue wrapping paper embossed with old gold Starfleet command delta patterns across it, and tied up in a bright red ribbon. Without asking permission, she dusted off the chair opposite his and sat down, smoothing out her skirt reflexively as she did so, a habit clearly born of years of practice.

He did his best to not show his annoyance and lowered mood at the sight of the bombshell vixen strolling into his office, but Alden still wasn't pleased with the arrangement, nor with her upbeat attitude. He took everything extra seriously and this was no exception. Still... There was no harm in accepting a small gift - it might even pertain to his line of work, if he knew the woman in front of him.

Thus, after a brief silence, he glanced down at the small package and gingerly tugged at the ribbon and wrapping paper, carefully unwrapping it and setting each piece of wrapping aside in immaculate condition until the box was open and the contents revealed. As he did so, he began his briefing. "Very well. We received a report that you interacted with a ribbonized universe that intersected with ours... While beaming at war-p... nine... point... two.... You then spent an ex-ten-ded period of tiiime in that universe. While I have read that report, I was ho-ping... To get your... Personal... thoughts... on the sub-ject.... Since you did... After all... quite possibly... vio-late... The prime di-rec-tive... In a com-plete-ly un-ex-plored space-time con-tin-uum..." As he finished speaking, he finally looked in the box to see what was in it.

It was a rock.

Smooth and polished, it bore reflective qualities that caused the earth tones within it to scintillate not unlike a tiger's eye stone. But as her dropped the stone the size of his palm out of the box to rested in his hand, a glow slowly began to emanate from within the stone, causing the surface to shimmer.

"It's called a Heartstone. It will only react like that in contact with a living organism, be it organic, carbon-based or otherwise. It's a mineral sample I brought back for you, since I knew we'd be having this conversation, and I knew you'd appreciate a souvenir that might help you determine the vibrational harmonic of the reality that I visited. Plus I still don't know how it determines what is alive and what is not, so there's a puzzle involved as well. I know, you're unimpressed and annoyed, so you're welcome." Paris smiled, crossed her legs in a practiced scissoring motion, folded her hands in her lap and waited patiently for the Director to ask his questions.

Silently, Engstrom studied the rock for several moments before setting it back in the box and moving it off to the side before fixing the woman in his office with his full attention. "Thank you, Rita Paris. It is suitably... faaaaascinating..." The way he drew out the word 'fascinating' was a mix of anticipation and disapproving energy-less angst.

"As for my QUES-tions..." he began, folding his hands in front of him. "Let us start with how you found yourself in the... Continuum... in ques-tionnnn... as well as... what you did first... upon your arrrrrr-iv-al..."

“As you mentioned, I was being beamed from the Vulcan vessel Shavok to the USS Hera. As the Hera was in a race against time, they were swinging through the system without slowing down. The Vulcan crew of the vessel saw no logic in my requests to transfer by shuttle, having beamed me up from the planet, ignoring my initial request. So I didn’t bother trying to reason with them since ‘I’m a walking chaotic element to transporters, I don’t care what the facts say’ doesn’t sway Vulcans, not even my husband,” Paris sighed.

“I’ve been split into anima and animus, shifted dimensions more than once, been rendered sentient energy more than once, had my physical age halved, suffered an episode of transporter psychosis, had the transporter create a duplicate of me, traveled in time… I mean, if it can happen to someone in a transporter it’s probably happened to me, as well as a few that seem to be me boldly going where no one has gone before. So my hesitation to use transporters is less a ‘matter of preference’ than a ‘for my own safety and the safety of others involved’ issue.” Paris smoothed out her skirt as an excuse to wipe the sweat from her palms, as even discussing her past misadventures, her outward composure and casual nature belied the undercurrent of anxiety that the phenomenon created within her.

“But Sonak assured them that with the destruction of our universe of origin there was no scientific reason for my ‘transporter allergy’. Yet while we covered those 2 million kilometers at that speed, despite two other beams moving with mine, somehow I managed to intercept a ‘ribbon’, a rolling gateway to another dimension, as studied by Dr. Soren. Given the time-flow variables involved in such anomalies, I assume you are quite familiar and need to no briefing on such phenomenon.” While it might have been offered flippantly, Rita actually respected the dour man with the drawn-out speech pattern, and assumed competency on his part, rather than the opposite. After all, he was the head of the division, and one did not rise to such a position by being dim.

"Indeeeeed..." was the man's only response as he waved one hand for Rita to continue.

“With that said, I was in the process of beaming when I sensed an elongation or stretching of the signal. I tend to slow down transporters, even now, so I’ve become somewhat attuned to it. While most people seem to experience transport as instantaneous, I don’t- I haven’t since my first reintegration.” Pausing, Paris took a breath to steel herself, then pressed on. “In this case, I felt it elongate, then I felt… for lack of a better word- a snag. I can perceive some things in the beam, but I can’t affect them. All I knew for certain was that the beam was still stretching to where it was programmed to go, but something else bunched it up and pulled me in.”

“As I reformed into matter unexpectedly, I fell out of the sky in a gladiatorial arena on a desert planet known as Kathoom. Given terminal velocity, I activated my EVA armor and brought up the energy shield native to the Gift of Hera bracers of the Sun and Moon, and tried to no avail not to land on anyone. Turns out as I landed, I kind of defeated the local champion, who was about to kill his opponent, one Glan. I rolled off and dismissed the armor and shield as quickly as I could, as this definitely had all the earmarks of a pre-warp civilization, but in defeating the champion, I became the new champion… you know how this thing goes.”

In this, Paris was a bit more flippant, as she launched into her unlikely story of leading a slave’s rebellion, of escaping the arena, questing to the Source of All Tears, facing dangers and hardships, of doing her best to not rely on her technology as she had limited power resources and was trying her best not to reveal high technology to a low-tech society. She detailed her adventures and companions, admitting her violations of the Prime Directive freely, as she used her advantages sparingly, but used them nonetheless to keep herself and her companions alive, up to and including the final climactic battle, wherein she was drawn back out of the dimension by the transporter beam manipulations of Lieutenant Commander Sonak.

The whole while through the story, Engstrom listened intently, committing every detail to memory as he did so. He'd read the report, but hearing it first hand and matching up the subtle emotions that the woman before him displayed with the details were enlightening to him. As she finished, he took a deep breath and slowly let it out before proceeding with his next question.

"If... you would be so... kinnnnd..." he began, pausing somewhat dramatically, as was his idiom to do. "Please give me your... asSESSment.... on whether this... was... ax-cci-dent-al or in-ten-tion-al... After all... higher order beings seem to be... Draaaawwwwwwn... To your shiP."

Rather than reply immediately, the woman paused to consider the question, as it was one she herself had not considered. Exercising logic and reasoning against her experiences, she rose from her chair to pace a few steps in internal debate, then a few more. "Excellent question, Director, I must admit. Given the evidence at hand, singling me out for testing could very well explain why I alone experienced the phenomenon."

"However, if we were to be tested, it would stand to reason that multiple test subjects would have provided more data, thus the conclusion to be drawn leans more towards a negative answer to that theory. Given that while I did face moral quandaries, as well as a test of the Prime Directive, I did not detect any sort of guiding influence on the pattern of events, in neither my arrival, my presence nor departure. While I would be happy to offer a re-examination of my report from that perspective, my immediate reply would be negative." Taking her seat once more, the cooperative commander continued.

"I will add that upon return to the Hera, the being designate Goddess: Hera was aware of my actions and my presence in that dimension, likely through the connection to her that I literally carried with me," she offered, raising her hand before her and sliding her uniform sleeve down to reveal the relatively crude bronze bracer she wore upon her forearm. "Hera did later admit to me that in that dilated time passage she could observe and was aware, although she was unable to intervene on my behalf. I have confidence this was the case and that she spoke accurately, as I believe she would have intervened on my behalf were she capable of doing so, despite the entire affair having played out over the course of thirty-three point seven two nine seconds of time in our universe."

"I suspect that while this may seem... like a co-in-ci-dence... It very well is... not..." Engstrom rummaged through a pile of papers for a moment before pulling out a report that looked as old as the Federation and handed it to Rita. "I have here a report very similar to your case... If you turn to page three ninety four... You will see that the individual in quessss-tion... One Tom Meferton... Was whisked awayyy... To a similar world for seven months, but returned... to find that on-ly thir-ty-threeeee seconds had passed in his twentieth-century Ireland home. Quite the... How to say? Wardrobe Ad-ven-ture...?"

Taking the offered ancient print document and scanning over the report silently, the pretty pilot's lips pursed. "The landmarks that he mentions are consistent with many of the locales I visited, and there was a legend of a great hero of their ancient world known as Ta'meferton, which would lend credence to this being the very same dimension. But I fail to see the hand of the divine in this- assuming the ribbon which serves as a dimensional rift was mobile, traveling at sublight speeds it could very well have been the same rift, given the movement of the galaxy on it's axis and the locations., It says here a nearby bomb blast was thought to be the catalyst, so perhaps the released energies could have been responsible for his translation."

As she hypothesized, trying to link the events and puzzle out the factors involved, Paris never looked up, nor did she scoff at the concept. An open mind was one of her strengths, and Engstrom would not have presented it had he not wanted her full attention bent to the task. While she was happy to tease the man for his insufferability, this was a puzzle of the universe they were considering, and this was another aspect of her explorer's nature- a mystery of old now connected to her modern experiences, which began to form a pattern.

"Are there any other recorded incidents, so that a timeline and a causality might begin to form, Director Engstrom? I still fail to see the hand of the divine, as it were, in any of this," she admitted, continuing to flip pages as she scanned the ancient report. "But if there is more data perhaps...?"

If the grim man could look more grim, he did so as he pushed an ancient book towards the buxom bombshell. "After your... Incident... we began looking for similar cases in... literature... And found a reference... In the sixteenth century a French writer published a... Fantastical... jour-nal... detailing a similar world... We suspect it is... Re-la-ted..."

“Hmmm… four hundred years or so suggests an elliptical orbit, like a comet. But these are on Earth, and I was in the Eridani system. So it should have, by that reasoning, been swinging back through the Sol system at this point in the orbit, if that’s the case. Or am I missing a piece of the puzzle, Director?” As she was speaking, Paris was tapping at the PaDD, calculating a simulation of an orbit that would bring the phenomenon about every 432 years, as they were currently discussing. As a navigator and pilot, she was definitely well within her skill set here, and she was giving the puzzle her full attention now, as it was becoming more fascinating by the moment. “Or do you think it might be on a much faster orbit than 400 years… which would imply considerable speed attributed to the phenom…”

"We believe that... your unique and... innnnnteresting... quantum sig-na-ture... may have caused a... fluc-tu-a-tion in the phenomenon's course and speed... and would like you to... In-vest-i-gate..."

"Color me curious, Director. What did you have in mind...?" Paris asked with narrowed eyes. here came the pitch, and the part she likely wasn't going to like very much, she suspected.

And he suspected she would not like him suggesting it. Still, he couldn't help but let his face do some sort of weird contortion that it wasn't used to that sort of resembled a smile, but definitely made him look like a villain in some old holonovel. "You are the first to... retrieve... objects... from this phenom-ena... Once we are able to track it, we would like to use you as... Bait... And beam you across... Nay... Into it... As an explorer that has been proven... Com-pat-ible... with the... penom-enon... However... it may take a few... months... to track it..."

That earned him a burst of musical laughter, for a good five seconds, followed by a shaking of the head of the short-haircut commander. "Ahhh, Director Engstrom, let it never be said that you have no sense of humor. Using me as bait and beaming me in to explore it. Ohhhh, that is funny." Like a stage magician, Paris produced a datachip between her fingers and tossed it onto his desk.

"I was there nearly three months. I took a great number of scans from my EVA armor, which I've shared with Starfleet, and I will give you direct copies. I HAVE explored the anomaly. Been there, done that," Paris smiled as she leaned back in her chair, folding her hands demurely in her lap. "If I did in point of fact drag it off course, so be it. But you are going to have to work a LOT harder than that if you think you're going to convince me to play along with what sounds like an ill-conceived, poorly planned and entirely unnecessary adventure for data I've already collected."

As Engstrom picked up the datachip, for once, he was actually startled to full silence as he turned it over in his hands. After several moments, he nodded and tucked the chip into a reader, offloading the data into secure storage for processing and further study. "We were... Unaware... You have my... gratitude."

"Alden... I know, you wouldn't give me permission if I asked, so we'll skip that part... I think you misunderstand a basic precept about me. I'm not an adventurer, in it for the thrills. I'm not a hero, in it for the glory. I'm an explorer. I want to seek out new life, and new civilizations. To boldly go... and record what I find, to add it to the accumulated knowledge of the universe. Because that's what explorers do. They go into the unknown, catalog what they find, and return to share that knowledge for the betterment of all. I think you might misunderstand my motives, and that may be somewhat at the core of why you don't care for me overmuch."

Ignoring the dour expression his face took at that statement, Paris shook her head. "Your job is to keep things on an even keel, and I do respect that. While I take risks and chances and I will admit I am a bit of the eye of the storm, given the things that tend to happen to me, I want the universe to be stable. I want these billions of souls to be able to sleep at night not worrying that reality might implode because of an extradimensional incursion. That's your job, and you do it well, as evidenced by the fact that we're all still here."

"Mine is to find these weird and mysterious and wonderful phenomenon, catalog them as best I can, or leave survey markers for others to follow, and return home to tell the tale." Rolling her eyes sheepishly, she admitted, "With a lot of help from a certain Vulcan hero, more often that not, but he made peace with that a long time ago. Because he knows that despite safeguards, despite precautions, despite all statistical probability and often logic, somehow Rita will find trouble and get lost. Captain Stuart used to call me the Lost Navigator for good reason, after all." Paris paused at that, remembering her friend and captain of days gone by.

In the span of a few moments, the dour man looked like he had aged a dozen years as he nodded in acquiescence, finally dropping the facade that he had been keeping up this whole time. "Indeed... I have never taken you for anything but... an explorer, Mrs. Paris. But... on everything else... I concede. I thank you for your... time... assistance... and patience. You have been... most helpful and... Quite possibly... answered... some of our... oldest questions... Do you have... anything else? Questions...? Comments...?"

"You investigate and deal with some of the most interesting phenomenon around, Director. While I am quite happy in my current assignment, I'll be back on Earth in a few years, full time. I will always be happy to assist you in your investigations, because sometimes you might need an explorer. And like any good Starfleet officer, I'm here to help." Paris offered the dour man a warm smile, with a bit of upraised eyebrows. "Simply put, call me if you need me, Director."

"In the meanwhile, I'll try not to generate too much paperwork for you..."

While Malana knew she had been banished from her homeworld for being a heretic among her people and actually interacting with the organics of the galaxy, it didn't stop her from seeking out those of her own kind. Thus, having a sense of one of her people having come to the Sol system hundreds of seasons ago, she decided that while the USS Hera had some downtime, she would see if she could find the mystery Ashrevanian on Earth that had been watching the humans all these past generations.

This was why she was in Paris visiting some of the more famous museums with the ever talkative three armed pilot that she had grown fond of, glancing over every ancient statue that seemed possibly of Ashrevan origins. Several in particular piqued her interests, particularly in the Louvre itself, which was what brought them to the galaxy famous museum.

"So Malana, you really think one'a these here statues might be one of your people? Like, you folks really do just pop a squat and watch entire civilizations spring up and die off?" The chatty, orange shelled Edosian, Ensign Weiaex, tried to whisper as her three feet click-clacked in the cavernous and utterly silent space as they walked together. "And they think you're the nutter for actually talking to folks? I don't get it. Anyway, glad it wasn't the one back there with her arms busted off. That would'a hurt, I'm guessin'."

The literal stone-faced woman nodded solemnly as she looked down at her datapad and marked another display off her list. "Yes, unfortunately, I'm the crazy one in my species. And yes, having your arms broken off is painful. The dissociation as they slowly crumble to dust separate from you while you can still feel them over dozens, if not hundreds of seasons is, I'm told, a maddening experience. I am quite fortunate that the stoneworkers on Meroset and Doctor Dael were able to recover my pieces and repair me."

As they approached a statue of Zeus and one of his sons, Malana pulled up the history of the statue before staring deeply at it, observing it fully.

The chatty Edosian pilot, who had been talking with her hands, gesticulating wildly, nervously tucked then in slightly at the idea of having one's arms snapped off. "Ewww. Yeah, that sound's beyond messed up." Then, using one of her three hands, she brushed a length of her silvery hair out of her insect-like face and looked up at the statues. 

"So, how can you tell what's just a statue or not, Mal? I mean, some'a these are part of their bases. I mean, you can get up and walk around, but these two here look like one piece of rock to me. But I ain't an expert on this kind of stuff. Wanna know how to get a sweet shine on your carapace that will turn heads, I'm your girl. But this is just beyond me." 

"My people are able to bond with most granite, marble, or similar hardness materials. As for how I can tell... The same way you can tell if an animal is listening to you. I can sense that they are watching me." Malana glanced from the statue towards another one a short distance away - one from off-world of a Vulcan scholar. It seemed very well done, but from the weathering alone she knew it wasn't one of her people so moved on to the next one in the list - a statue of Aphrodite that seemed to be quite famous. "If you stretch out with your senses like you did in the shuttle, you may be able to tell as well."

"I dunno, Mal. Right now I'm stuck on the idea of animals listening to me. I think If I tried stretching out with my senses all I'd do is get hung up on everyone else's whispery little conversations in here. I mean, sure, it's quiet, but it's a LOUD kinda quiet, ya' know? I mean, I'm kinda an expert on loud quiet. Everyone is just kinda mumbling to each other under their breath about not understanding the art, or whining that their kinds could paint better. Ya' know, museum crap. Like any of their kids could even hold a brush without poking their eyes out."

Then the verbose Edosian paused and winced slightly. "Crap, I'm doin' it right now, ain't I? Sorry. This is me bein' super quiet..."

"Uh, that statue sayin' anything?"

As Malana stared up at the armless statue, she slowly tuned out the rest of the world around her. There was something off about this one. Like it was watching her as she watched it. To be honest, it was a bit unnerving being on the other side like this for once, but as she slowly sank in on her senses, she felt it - the connection she once shared with her people before leaving her world.

Then, ever so slowly, the statue before her turned its head to glare directly at her disapprovingly.

Shocked out of her inner senses, Malana blinked a few times, realizing that the statue before them hadn't actually moved and it was still as motionless as it was a moment before. Still, she had what she had come for. Glancing down at her datapad, she memorized the name of this particular statue, just in case, before looking back over at her friend. "No, it says nothing. Shall we take a break before continuing?"

Looking at Malana, Weiaex crossed two of her arms and set the other one on her hip as she raised an eyebrow and tilted her head in the non-verbal equivalency of 'Really?'. But in a rare moment of self-restraint, she simply clicked her tongue and replied, not buying that her unexpected friend didn't just notice something. "Yeaaaah, okay. Let's go take a break. My feet are complaining at me anyway for a rest. This place is seriously huge. If they wouldn't let me, I'da said let's bring the shuttle in. It's class 7, it woulda fit. Well, mosta the hallways it woulda fit."

"Indeed," Malana replied, then slowly grinned before letting out a light chuckle. "Did you know that you are a strange being? I think I like that most about you, my friend. I believe there were some benches near a fountain near the beautifully rendered sculpture of that Buddha figure we passed. Let us sit and reminisce together."

"Ha! Strange. Yeah, that's the sweet way a' sayin' 'pain in the ass' from most folks. But not you, Mal. I like that, too. An' yeah, let's go relax for a bit." The Edosian Ensign said, gesticulating with her hands as the headed out, talking the whole time about nothing in particular until they reached their destination.

Pausing to look up at the Buddha statue in question, the chatty pilot's tone switched from flippant to serious on a proverbial dime. "So, what's the deal, Mal? Was that statue one's your people? It may not have said nothing, but it did something 'cuz you got spooked. And I've never seen you spooked. You blinked. Like, a few times, and you DON'T blink, Mal."

Then, turning to look at her friend, her expression was focused but concerned. "If we were playin' poker, I would have bet the pot against your hand back there, Mal. What's goin' on?"

The stone-faced woman sat on the bench, the wood creaking softly under her weight for a moment as she settled in. Softly, she stared up at the large brass and gold Buddha as she collected her thoughts. "It was that obvious then?" for a long moment more, she was silent, until she let out a long, shuddering breath that sounded like wind through an ancient tomb. "I think that if my people could cry, I would do so now. That may have been the oldest of my people I have met... And the most set in the old ways. I was... Frowned upon with disapproval. I am truly shunned by my people."

Standing there, the was a slight clicking sound from the joints in the Edosian's exoskeleton as she shuddered slightly. If she was capable of flushing visibly with anger through that exoskeleton, she would have. "I KNEW it! I knew that dusty ass greek bitch was giving you shade! I swear, when I get through with her, she's gonna wish that all that was missing was her damn arms!"

Bursting into frenetic pacing, Waiaex began waving her arms as she continued ranting. "I'm gonna go back there and give her a piece of my mind! TWO pieces, even! She thinks because she's some ancient statue that gives her the right to judge YOU?! She don't know that stuff you've done here on the ship! How could she? All she knows how to do is look down on people! I hope some french kid pukes baguette's on her crusty ass fee! I'm gonna..."

Then the exasperated Edosian stopped in her tracks and looked down at her friend. Ahreva Malana didn't exactly emote, but Waiaex could tell that she was in pain, and slowly realized that her freaking out likely wasn't helping. Wringing two of her hands together awkwardly while rubbing her hair back with the third, Waiaex sat down next to her friend on the bench and pun an arm over her. It made the sound of plastic clicking against stone.

"Damn... I'm sorry, Mal. I am. I... I can't imagine what that's gotta feel like. I guess, a whole people that don't ever interact with anyone, even with as old as you are, feelings like this can come outta nowhere and kick you in the ass... proverbially." Waiaex spoke as softly as she knew how to her friend. "Look, I don't know much of nothing about your people, but what she did hurt you, and she oughta know it. I'll go tell her myself if you want. Or I'll go with you if you want... or I'll stay here. But someone oughta say something. An' if all she does is silently judge us, then she should know how shitty that is for the next thousand ass years. I mean, judging ain't observing, is it? I don't see how that's any different from interacting. Except that interacting takes guts."

"It was less an interaction and more... A dedication to an ideal... One that ends in me being shunned," Malana spoke softly and gently rested one hand on one of her friend's knees next to her. "They know it hurts and they did so with that in mind. There's nothing that can be done now."

With her other hand, Malana held up her datapad and looked at the statue in question's information - Venus de Milo. Her eyes then widened slightly as the thinking she had learned from the biologicals came into her head. "But as a member of the crew of a secret intel ship, it would be remiss of me not to report this to the Captain... Would it not? After all, my people have turned on me fully... So I should report when I run across them... Hiding in plain sight... Watching civilizations... Right? After all, biologicals are very paranoid at times and prefer to know when they've been watched for..." Here she had to do some quick math in her head, calculating the local seasons to years. "I believe at least three thousand years."

Eyes going slightly wide for a moment, the Edosian pilot shrugged slightly. "Huh, yeah. Yeah, I'm betting that the Captain'll want to know. At the least, put some eyes on them for a change. I for one still wanna give her more than eyes, shunning you for doing what they won't while they watch everyone and judge you for wanting to do more. It ain't right, Mal. Hurtin' you on purpose."

Letting herself ramp up again, Waiaex had to calm herself down as she patted Malana's hand that rested on her knee. "Look, I'm sorry. If you want, we can get outta here. Is there anywhere else you wanna go?"

Malana thought it over for a moment before replying, finally coming to the conclusion that she was already where she wanted to be and a soft, zen smile crossed her features. "I'm with you. Wherever you want to go, whatever you want to see... That's where i'll go."

Thinking about it for a second, the six-limbed, orange shelled pilot leaned back slightly and clapped two on her hands together while raising a finger in the air with the third. "Well, I can tell you what, I'm kinda hungry. But I ain't in the mood for French food. What'da ya' say we hop in the shuttle and I'll zip us over to New York and we hit the city for a slice. I grew up there after my family moved to Earth for work and if you like watchin' people just bein' people there ain't many better places."

The stone woman's demeanor visibly brightened, her granite cheeks taking on more of a marble hue. "I would be most amenable to the experience of people watching by your side. I may even want to experience this 'slice' you speak of, though I do not consume food as you do."

"Awesome! Well, there's a little hole in the wall place out on 7th that might make a consumer outta you, Mal. C'Mon, let's get outta here." Smiling, the Edosian Ensign patted the stony biologist on the back as she got up, stretched her three legs and shot a mock salute to the Buddha statue. "See ya' around, biggun'. There's Pizza to be ate and crazy people to watch being rude to each other in the name of universal friendship and brotherhood."

Leading her friend to the entrance on the other end of the facility so as to avoid walking past the Venus De Milo, Weiaex nonetheless turned towards the glass door where she could still see the secret Ashrevanian and held up all three hands, extending all three middle fingers and scowling back. Then, feeling a little better, turned and put an arm around her friend's shoulder as they headed towards the exit. "I'm tellin' ya', Mal. You're gonna love New York. And if any of the statures THERE are assholes, we're pouring popcorn all over 'em so the pigeons will shit on 'em."

The time spent at Starfleet Command enduring endless debriefings and interrogations, accusations and inquires had all been accompanied, in some form, by one Lieutenant Commander Percy Garney. A fussy and persnickety little man, who was dour and possessed of only the dryest of wit, most often expressed in the form of muttering under his breath then claiming it was nothing to move the conversation along. Today, however, he seemed almost happy, his face stretched in an uncomfortable rictus that one might mistake for a smile, were one not to know the man better.

"Well, today's the day, Lieutenant Dox. I've seen you through your time at Starfleet, and with this signature here... here... here... initial here... thumbprint here.... and retinal scan... thank you. I'm no longer assigned to your case. You have one final exit interview with some sort of... specialist. The beaming coordinates are here," he explained, handing over a PaDD. "I wish you godspeed and good fortune. Moving forward, PLEASE do NOT get captured by the Romulans, so that we don't ever have to revisit this particular ordeal in the future. Agreed?"

Not even bothering to fake a polite smile, the red-headed Rihannsu pilot raised an eyebrow and kept her more caustic comebacks to herself, as she replied flatly and professionally. “Agreed, Lieutenant Commander. Good day.”

Garney had been intensely irritating, smug, and pompous for the week and a half Mnhei’sahe had been in San Francisco at Starfleet Command for her extensive debriefing. But as she had spent weeks resisting the urge to kill her kidnappers, not rising to the bait of an obnoxious JAG officer was easy enough. Though as he turned to leave, she had to found she had to work to resist the urge to end with the traditional Rihannsu cultural greeting and farewell of Jolan’tru, just to get under his skin. After all, her gauntlet wasn’t QUITE finished yet, so best not to take any chances.

At least this final appointment was one she had been given coordinates to beam into, so she wouldn’t have to endure yet another lengthy shuttle ride, which gave her the time to overthink everything, as was her habit. So she slung her shoulder bag across her back and made her way to the secure transporter station to present her orders to the transporter technician.

The Wil’I’Ams sisters, the Klingon Security officers who had been her escorts from the Hera, had been dismissed earlier in the day. They planned to meet her when she was ready to shuttle back to the starship, as it was currently docked at the secretive Jupiter Station. As a Starfleet intel starship, the Hera was dissuaded from assuming Earth orbit or pulling into Spacedock, Thus Dox was enjoying another measure of her freedom; she was finally being allowed to move about without the security guards that had been perpetually accompanying her everywhere for days.

Taking a moment to appreciate at least that minor victory, she handed the PaDD to the young technician and, waiting for her turn, stepped over to the railing overlooking the lobby of Starfleet Command. She and Garney had met for her dismissal on the third-floor mezzanine where the security transport pads were located, and from that ledge, she could see the dozens of standard transporters that had lined the walls of the main entrance. The hum of the beams could be easily heard echoing up the tall walls of the complex as Starfleet members rushed on and off the pads, going about their business. It was like watching organized chaos as the rainbow of uniforms crisscrossed below. Crimson, Teal, and Gold abounded in the hustle and bustle of different races and peoples all working together, walking across the gold rim of the Starfleet Delta embedded in the marble floor. It was Rita Paris’ dream of the future, living and breathing below her and even the generally cynical young Rihannsu officer was feeling it in that moment.

“Lieutenant Dox. The pad is ready for you.” Came a voice from behind. A fresh-faced young ensign in Engineering Gold called back to address her. Turning from her moment of introspection, so close to the end of this particular journey and so ready to return home to the Hera, Dox nodded with a half-forced smile for the young human man as she replied. “Thank you, Ensign.”

Picking back up the mid-sized duffle bag with her clothes and some PaDD’s in it, she stepped onto the pad and, nodding again that she was ready, left the California coast in a wave of blue and white sparkles. Seconds later, she reformed someplace decidedly different from Starfleet headquarters.

The besieged young officer hadn’t been told with whom who her final meeting was to be with, nor where, since the coordinates on the PaDD were coded- but the young officer definitely was not expecting to be standing on the lawn of a multi-story manor house, obviously old, but well-maintained. Not the grandest of castles, to be certain, but definitely a large rambling manor that was likely as cozy and inviting inside as it appeared to be outside. The well-manicured lawn and gardens made it clear it was still occupied, and working to maintain appearances. As she eyed the gravel path that stretched down to the road, in the distance the vista was quite brilliantly verdant and spectacular. One of rolling foothills and abrupt cliffs, on a large lake where she could see an actual castle across the lake. Behind it, the land rose in sharp relief to form steep craggy mountains, which were also overrun by greenery.



As Lieutenant Dox took in the sights, wondering why she'd been transported to the middle of someone’s yard, a voice from behind her spoke up, in calm and friendly tones. Which made her jump a bit, because she was reasonably certain that no one had been there seconds ago.

"I requested they beam you out here so you that could get your bearings," the voice declared, as she turned to face the speaker. It was a woman, who might perhaps be a bit taller than she herself, although her posture was stooped and hunched with age, as old women tended to do. Bound up in a large bun atop her head was what had once been dark hair, that was now shot through with sufficient silver enough to appear grey. The form was matronly- full-figured was an apt description, and somehow Dox couldn't help but immediately think this would be what Rita's hourglass figure would look like if she packed on 40 kilos and another fifty years.

But what genuinely struck her were the long, pointed ears of the woman, framed by that mass of restrained hair, and the sharp brows that rose above eyes that appeared to be an odd color at this distance. Clad in a simple faded blue cotton dress with a stained brown apron wrapped about her wide waist, the woman looked like a matron of the sort this rural existence implied… save for the fact that she was clearly Vulcanoid.

The smile she presented definitely leaned her more toward Romulan than Vulcan, however.

"To answer your initial questions, you are in Scotland, halfway around the planet from Starfleet Command. You are in Glenlochy, on the lands of Clam MacGregor. That is MacGregor Manse, seat of the clan and home to its laird," which she pronounced with a burr that was clearly a local affectation. "As for myself, I am Charybdis MacGregor. Admiral, Starfleet Intelligence, retired. We'll skip the fun and games of me being cagey and mysterious, because I suspect you've had weeks of that hnaev, and you are well and past it now."

Well, she certainly CURSES in Rihan. Mnhei'sahe thought to herself.

"So, why don't you come in for a cup of tea, a bit of stew and some conversation where you try to convince the dotty old retired Romulan Starfleet officer that you've not been compromised and that your loyalties are all where you claim them to be, shall we?"

With that blunt statement, she gestured- not to the manse, but to a much smaller single-story structure nearby, which might have once been servant quarters or a 'mother-in-law' cottage set slightly back from the main house on the expansive verdant lawn.

Taking a breath, Mnhei'sahe nodded and followed her slowly plodding and unusual host to the smaller cottage. Whatever this meeting was to be, it seemed she was once again having to prove herself to someone else- even if this particular representative seemed more interesting than not. As she looked around, she couldn't help but smile at the oddity that her host was, like herself, another Rihannsu woman with a Scottish last name.

"Thank you, Admiral MacGregor," Mnhei'sahe replied as she followed closely behind, her bag slung over her shoulder not quite knowing what to say but hoping for the best, "Stew sounds good, actually."

"There has never been a Romulan Admiral, you think to yourself, and that's technically correct. There's a lot of secret history of Starfleet out there, Lieutenant. I'm a piece of it... plausible deniability being what it is." As she moved, the woman had a bit of a limp, as if still dealing with an old injury that had never quite healed correctly. In motion, she made the sounds an old woman would make, the shortness of breath, the sighs and grunts of exertion over minor tasks like pulling open the door. But her hands seemed steady, and her violet eyes were sharp.

The interior of the cottage was homey and cluttered. Holos and flat images lined the walls, of people and places, of weapons and devices, of ship models and one display case had mannequin forms of a rather spectacularly curvaceous figure displaying a blue minidress uniform from Rita's era, but in Science blue with the same two wound gold braids about the wrist that Rita's sported. While the other was the white turtlenecked 'Maroon Monster' of the Admiral Kirk era, with the shoulderboard rank that marked it as a full admiral, O-9, one step shy of Fleet Admiral. A student of the era and a fan of the uniform, Dox noted the additional division marking that delineated the uniform to be assigned to Starfleet Intelligence.

All of which, in turn, made Dox suspicious, because she had never heard of such an admiral- not that she had gone looking particularly, but she imagined a Vulcan or Romulan admiral that highly placed would have been known of, one way or the other.

The large 'chopping block' table surrounded by six sturdy clearly handmade chairs was the centerpiece of the kitchen that dominated half the main room, thus indicating it's importance to its occupant, and her hostess gestured for Dox to have a seat. "So, now it's time for something different. I know all about you, Mnhei'sahe Dox, aka Melanie Dox, aka Mnhei'sahe t'Rul. At this juncture, you have absolutely no idea who I am, why you are here, or just what sort of game Command is playing with you. So you're on your guard, saying nothing and forcing the other party to give information by volunteering nothing. That's good. Very smart. But not why we're here."

"So ask. Satisfy your curiosity, and I will explain why you're here in a cottage in Scotland of all places, what this is all about, and we'll wrap up this business of returning you to active duty on that rather remarkable starship of misfits to which you belong, eh?" Placing a teapot on the heating element, the old woman with deep crow's feet about her eyes and laugh lines creasing her face smiled, an expression that clearly came easily to her face. For a Romulan, she was remarkably... straightforward.

If that was to be believed, at least. Months of games within games within wordplay within manipulations had left Dox somewhat suspicious of surface motives and just what exactly was happening here, she realized.

Taking the offered seat, Mnhei'sahe was curious, but suddenly more nervous then she had been since she had been on the Warbird. Everything about the situation felt unusual, and a part of her had suddenly become concerned if she was really still on Earth.

The lifelong spacer knew she wasn't on a ship. As someone born and raised on starships, she could generally feel the hum of a warp engine through the deckplates, even on a holodeck. While the woman seemed to know entirely too much about her, if she was an Admiral, all of what she had just said would be information available to her. With her well trained mental defenses, Dox was sure she would have felt if her mind had been telepathically probed. But regardless, the young pilot was definitely uncomfortable.

But her face remained neutral and impassive, betraying nothing of what she was feeling at the moment as she pondered what she should ask. There was something in the back of her mind that was familiar about the mysterious Admiral which she couldn't quite place, and it wasn't just the Rita-era uniform on display, or just how easily she seemed to read Mnhei'sahe. "How do you know… everything about me, I suppose is the most prominent question I have right now, Admiral."

"Just Charybdis will do, Lieutenant. I'm retired and I've no need to club you about the head and shoulders with rank. Or Char, if you are feeling particularly friendly, as it seems my name is not the easiest in the galaxy to manage, despite its origins in classical Earth mythology." Taking the lid off a pot of stew on the stovetop, the elderly woman reached for a pair of carved wooden bowls from the cupboard beside it and began ladling out servings of the dish, even as the water churned in the kettle.

"I don't know everything about you. If I did, this entire discourse would be pointless, wouldn't it?" the plump old woman chuckled with reserved mirth. "But I know you, your psych profile, your career, and I am well-versed in current events. All of that is easily accessible to anyone with the appropriate clearances. Considering I trained Vice Admiral Jeffries, it's not an enormous stretch to imagine just how I came to access so much information about you. Along with standard observation, analysis, and deduction. Your body posture still says desperately uncomfortable, despite your efforts to conceal it. All this talk is elevating rather than allaying suspicion, so you are wondering more and more what this is about. Although you refuse to ask, because you've spent a month dealing with the twits of the Tal'Shiar, and another two weeks dealing with Starfleet busybodies and diplomats and strategists that either want answers or assurances or some way to turn all of this to their advantage."

"So why the old lady in the country cottage? What's her game, what does SHE want, what does THIS mean for my career, what game are we playing today?" Setting the bowl down in front of her guest, the old woman opened a drawer to produce an elegantly filigreed spoon, one for each of them, and returned to the stove to fetch the kettle.

"If it's poisoned I went to an awful lot of trouble," she said with her back turned, busying herself with making tea. "If it's drugged, again, I'd be a damned poor spy if this is what I'm doing to gain your confidence. It's just food, woman. I'm not the best cook in the county, but it's hard to mess up stew." Turning back to the table, she produced two steaming earthenware mugs of what smelled suspiciously like Vulcan spiced tea.

Taking a spoonful of the stew, which did actually smell wonderful, Dox took a bite while keeping her eyes on her hostess. Nodding slightly, she said plainly, "It's very good, thank you."

"As for the name, Charybdis isn't all that complicated. Besides, I made the crew all go from calling me 'Melanie' to 'Mnhei'sahe' overnight, so it's not that much to bother pronouncing right." The red-headed officer mused, volunteering a little personal information to try and both relax and gauge her host's reactions.

"In regard to my suspicions, as you said, I've had more than a few people of late trying to get into my head. And suddenly, I'm here. Talking to a Rihannsu with a Scottish last name, just like me. You have a uniform on a mannequin from the same era that my Commander and friend comes from and still wears... and you've prepared the meal that is one of my personal favorites." Mnhei'sahe said, taking another spoonful.

"So yes, I'm curious and I'm suspicious. I'll be more curious when I'm feeling less suspicious… so if I'm the one asking questions first, why I here? Or, more specifically, after weeks of having my loyalties challenged, why are you my last gatekeeper?"

"I'm not a gatekeeper," the chubby old woman explained as she eased herself into a chair then sagged a bit upon arriving there, in relief at no longer fighting gravity in the manner so often adopted by the elderly. "You signed your last bit of paperwork before you departed Starfleet. You are returned to active duty, cleared of charges and on your own recognizance. This was just an old lady with a lot of pull wanting to have a word with you, one generation to the next."

"As for why, I would think that would be obvious. I know what it's like to be a Romulan in Starfleet, to some degree. Would it help put your mind at ease if perhaps you knew my story?" the aged woman asked, a hint of a smirk at the corner of her mouth that seemed somehow mischievous and out of place for a Vulcan or a Romulan, and was even different than her Captain's piratical smirk. This was the wry, private smile of someone who knew all the angles and was playing the long game, primarily to the amusement of her own self.

"I won't lie and say that I'm not curious." Mnhei'sahe said with a bit more of her normal timbre to her voice as she consciously let her guard down just a hair. The enigmatic older woman was intriguing, but Dox remained on guard as she leaned forward with a specific question that had been itching in the back of her brain. "If that blue uniform was yours, that's from an era where Starfleet had just learned what the Rihannsu even looked like. How were you already a Commander during that period, Charybdis?"

"Ah, and therein hangs the tale," the old woman smiled, and as she began to wistfully recollect, it was as if years fell away from her. "I was born Scylla Charvanek, in the Earth year 2237, in the city of Dartha, Romulus- ch'Rihan, to you and I. My father was a politico- no great Senator, just a functionary, but he came from a wealthy family. My mother was a starship commander, proud and noble. I was born to them later in life, so her career was quite well underway, already a Riov with a Bird of Prey all her own."

"When I was six years old, the Tal'Shiar came for me. Partially it was to leverage my father, partially it was to test my mother's 'loyalty'. Partially it was because they needed 'volunteers' for the latest scheme they had concocted, involving genetic manipulation secrets reverse-engineered from an Earth cryoship they'd captured. Combining that with a personality smasher or sifter- they never did settle on a name, depending on who you asked- they were going to try an old ploy that had achieved limited success decades before- infiltrating the Federation by pretending to be Vulcans." Pausing to take a sip of her tea, the old woman continued.

"You see, back then, we had still managed to keep our physicality a mystery to the Federation, and even the Vulcans were unaware of our existence Although once we were revealed, they quickly surmised we were S'task's rebel band, taken root in the stars. Yet they were in no hurry to volunteer this information to Starfleet, you see. A Vulcan never lies, but that doesn't mean he'll tell you the entire truth, either." At that, the Romulan senior citizen spinning the outrageous yarn shook her head, looking off into the distance, lost in memory for a few seconds of reverie before continuing.

"I was chosen, and the treatment worked well on me. I gained amazing strength, reflexes, and agility- I was a superhuman gymnast. Hard to believe now, I know, but it's true," she cackled a bit, rolling her eyes. "Landings were my weakness- always stumbled on the landings, especially in heels. Now, all of that might have been good and well, save that they'd captured a Vulcan exploratory vessel, and there was a 15-year-old girl on board, named for the other force of that legendary pair for which, coincidentally, I’d been named.”

Pausing, the old woman pursued the conversational tangent. “I've often wondered if that made it fate, or if it was just a cruel joke on the part of the universe, you see? Because the Tal’Shiar stripped her mind from her, and recorded it... a bit fragmented, of course, and all of it overlaid with the sheer agonizing experience of having your mind disassembled by brute mechanical force."

When she picked up her teacup this time, the old woman's hand shook a bit, as the memory replayed in her mind. "When they overlaid her personality onto mine, it was supposed to improve my rather sub-par intellect and offer me insights into Vulcan culture that I would need to successfully move amongst them. In doing so, they ensured that I would feel the same agony that the true Charybdis had felt, when they stripped her mind. It was... a defense, you see. They knew that the Vulcans could meld minds, and they tortured us both to give the Vulcans something to encounter should they meld with us- sheer, horrifying mental agony that went on forever."

"One of the many reasons I've never had any love lost between myself and the Tal'Shiar," the silver-tressed matron declared as she pulled a shawl off the chair next to her and wrapped it about her shoulders, although there was no chill that Dox could feel other than the one at the base of her spine brought on by the tale of mental torture that was a little too close for comfort. As Charybdis casually described the horrors of having her mind overwritten by what sounded like an earlier prototype of the Ju'rot device, the old fleeter pressed on, glossing over gory details.

"They beat and abused my body so that I could be placed back aboard the Shek-hinah and sent to drift back to Vulcan. My mind and body were both shattered, though, and I spent two years on Vulcan trying to come to terms with who I had become and what sort of creature I was now. It was there that I learned that logic can be cruel, and justification for cruelty can always be explained logically. Eventually, I escaped Vulcan, and as 'one of their own' I decided not to pretend to be emotionless,” the clearly emotional woman explained. “It was demanding and irritating to maintain such a façade, and overall I played it cool, by allowing myself to be labeled a V'tosh k'atur, a 'Vulcan without logic'. There are still the occasional Vulcans who reject the teachings of Sarek, you see. Rare, in the modern-day, but they do exist. I allowed others to classify me as such, never corrected them, and I rather smugly enjoyed my own private little joke."

"When they were processing my paperwork for the Academy, I wrote in 'race- Vulcanoid', never claimed to be from planet Vulcan nor an actual Vulcan- don't look at me that way, this was a very long time ago, and things were simpler then. Have you ever tried to read a tricorder from back then?" she admitted, pointing to the classic black and chrome accessory in the case laid out with the old blue uniform alongside the classic phaser Rita still carried today, and a black and gold flip-open communicator, which Dox wasn't sure if Rita still owned or not.

"Long story short, I attended Starfleet Academy. No, I was a few classes behind James T. Kirk, but his asinine maneuver in the Kobayashi Maru certainly made it difficult for the rest of us as the Academy cracked down academically. I was a terrible student- my scores were off the charts, because their charts were for humans back then, really. The United Federation really had not properly taken root yet, and most starships were full of Caucasian men from Earth out playing ‘space cowboy’. Since the treatment had granted me a superior intellect and perfect recall, my classes were simplicity to absorb and regurgitate, even correcting some of the erroneous material, which endeared me to my instructors just as much as you might imagine.”

“Staying out of trouble was my problem. Every night, every weekend, whenever I wasn't required to be in attendance, I was out exploring this beautiful planet of theirs. Clubs, dancing... I even headlined as a topless gogo dancer in Brazil for a semester, and let me tell you, that was a double life that was a challenge to keep separate!" The old woman laughed, and while it was hard to imagine her in her heyday doing such a thing, noticing a photo on the wall of the staggeringly buxom young officer in the bright blue minidress uniform adorned with Lieutenant's stripes lent the possibility some credence. She had most certainly been beautiful in her day.

"So I bought into it. I was still making my reports to the Tal'Shiar with regularity, but they were learning the course curriculum of the Academy, which was a lot of nonsense, some history they didn't know, a bit of engineering that wasn't anything new to them, and me editing out most of my life so they wouldn't know what was really happening. I once held the record for most demerits collected by a single Academy graduate in a semester, a year and career. At least, for a graduate. I suspect that record has long since been broken, but I've never cared to look." The older woman chuckled, shaking her head then sipping her tea once more.

"I was a genius, so I went science, and as a 'Vulcan' it was what everyone expected. I wasted away in my first command aboard the USS Antares, butting heads with the executive officer, until I was transferred to a Constitution-class... the USS Bonne Chance. That was where I met Fiona McCray, who would introduce me to my husband Raine, and whose family here in Scotland adopted me as one of their own. Selune, the most brilliant and capable pilot I'd ever met, a white Caitian, if you can believe that.”



Smiling lightly, Dox couldn’t help but pick up on the coincidence of the Hera having a Runabout named ‘Selune’, but didn’t interrupt the story to comment on it.

“There was Yuna Raza, of course, through whom I eventually learned of Symbionts and the dirty secrets the Trill keep hidden about that bonding of theirs. Most importantly of all, the Deltan Doctor, Siivas McKenzie who would change my life in so many ways. When the ship was lost in a spatial distortion, it was he and I who saved the ship as the two surviving senior officers, and his friendship was the last straw for my loyalty to the Star Empire.”

“You see, I had the opportunity in that moment… to simply plot a course ch’Rihan, bring a technologically advanced heavy cruiser of Starfleet into port under my command, and I would be a heroine of the empire, with statues dedicated to me and song singing my praises for generations to come. But… Siivas had saved me, and shown me kindness and empathy. He knew me- the REAL me- yet he neither shied away nor condemned me for it. Instead, he encouraged me to be myself- the version of myself I wished to be, and left me free to make my own choices. With the first true crossroads of destiny before me, I chose freedom, and friendship, and the Federation.” Taking a deep breath, she sighed. “In a cross-dimensional accident, I encountered a version of myself who had chosen the heroine of the Empire path, and she was quite frankly terrifying.”

“Of course, upon reaching port was where I met Captain Patrick O'Conner."

Sighing, the old woman rolled her eyes heavenward as she spoke. "He was dashing and handsome, and he wanted me badly. I made him stutter and lose his composure, and his lust was… well.” The old woman blushed a shade of jade, and she smiled, a secret little smile before continuing. “He was my first love, and after he slept with me he promoted me. In the space of three months, I went from a Lieutenant to a full Commander. Everybody knew why, nobody respected the rank nor the first officer posting. But my friends and I, we ran that starship for him, and they didn't care. Until Risa. On Risa it all changed."

Looking up, those odd violet eyes peered at the young woman. "I'm spinning this tale the long way round, but that's how it goes when you are telling your story, you see? There are those little details in the past that have to be laid so that the events later have relevance, understand? An order of events, otherwise they don't make sense, which are often out of order. So I appreciate you putting up with an old woman's rambling, and letting me get to the point in my own time."

Listening, Mnhei’sahe had leaned forward in her chair and was following the tale intently. Rita Paris was more than correct that the young Rihannsu woman was, in point of fact, a terrible liar. But she certainly had a Rihannsu’s ear for picking out lies in others. Even a well-trained liar usually had some tells that Mnhei’sahe could pick up on. But if Charybdis was lying in her rambling tale, then she was the best liar the crimson-clad pilot had ever encountered.

As such, the young Lieutenant was choosing to let her guard down as the story progressed. And as such, Mnhei’sahe had begun to understand this eccentric woman’s interest in her. While they had certainly lived vastly different lives, there were an uncanny number of ways that the two lives tended to run almost parallel. And the similarities were, while coincidental, quite intriguing.

Nodding, Mnhei’sahe allowed herself a legitimate and relaxed smile as she shook her head. “It’s no concern, and I understand. I’ve been repeating just the same month over and over, but if you leave out one detail from the beginning as you said, you lose context later.”

Reaching forward, the young Dox took a sip of her own tea, which was quite good, and nodded. “I don’t know if I beat your record for demerits. But I did get held back a year and a half in total for various… academic suspensions. Mostly violence related. Put a cadet in the infirmary with a collapsed liver and a ruptured trachea once.”

Putting her teacup down, Mnhei’sahe smirked a bit before finishing her interjection, “I… have been known to get into my own fair share of trouble. No dancing, though. But I’m sorry. Please, continue.”

"HAH! I broke a man's wrist because he wouldn't remove his hand from my waist when I warned him in Zero-G Maneuvers 202," the old woman cackled with glee. "I suspect you are beginning to see why you're here. Kilroy Oldster, a human philosopher of the twentieth century, once wrote that the next generation and the one that follows are an integral component of our stories, as we are of theirs. Therefore, each child acts as the knighted messengers to carry their forebears’ stories into the future. To deprive our children of the narrative cells regarding the formation of the ozone layer that rims the atmosphere of our ancestors’ saga and parental determination of selfhood, is to deny them of the sacred right to claim the sanctity of their heritage."

"Accordingly, all wrinkled brow natives are chargeable with the sacrosanct obligation of telling their kith and kin the memorable story of the scenic days they spent as children of nature splashing about in their naked innocence in the brook of infinite time and space. We must scrupulously document our family’s history as well as scrawl of our personal story," she ended the quotation from memory.

"I have children and grandchildren and great-grandchildren, and they know their heritages- both the human and the Romulan,” Charybdis explained. “But it seems your own heritage has been muddied for you, and that's part of why you are here. You are not alone, Mnhei'sahe Dox. Patterns repeat, and while our circumstances are wildly different, you and I share quite a few points in common, I think.”

“That's why the dotty old lady wanted your afternoon. That's why you are here. Because I know your story, and in witnessing it, I suspect you may feel a bit alone in the universe- it is the nature of youth to believe that our experiences are unique, and no one has experienced this before. I have found it can be... comforting to know that there are others who went before, who understand. Having come through the flames of the phoenix and fought your way back, I felt it might bring you some degree of ease to know that." The old woman's expression softened, a maternal expression that was odd to see on a Romulan elder's face, yet there it was.

To Be Continued...

"That is why I called for you to meet with me. Because I want you to know you are not alone, have never been alone, and I have been aware of you since the first day you applied to Starfleet Academy." The statement that she had been aware of Dox for over a dozen years now hung in the air, as the old woman admitted that her interest was neither recent nor uninformed.

The message was penetrating as intended, right up until Dox locked in on the idea that Charybdis had been watching her. Something in that revelation made the young woman tense back up and sit a little straighter in her seat as her eyes narrowed slightly.

Manipulation had been a running theme in her life, it had seemed. People with more knowledge of her own life than she often had kept cropping up, sometimes to her detriment, and the idea bothered her deeply. Her mother surgically and genetically altering her to appear half-human and lying to her about it for years. Her secret family lineage and the family on ch’Rihan hidden from her. Captain Telvan picking her name out of a list of prospective helmsmen because she and Dox’s mother had history. That history being exploited to make Dox a Baroness in the Captain’s Artan fleet to take advantage of Dox’s family history with reunificationists.

Even the kidnapping itself, designed to try and woo the young woman away from Starfleet and over to the Imperium. Her Grandmother trying to sway her with family and the promise of the history she had been denied. Riov Rendal trying to seduce her by appealing to the sense of duty and responsibility. Death herself grooming Dox to one day succeed her. Now this.

It felt like even more manipulation, and the young woman’s face stiffened and the smile evaporated as she thought of it all. But at the same time, the woman seemed warm and sincere. She seemed legitimately interested in Mnhei’sahe and her life. She seemed as though she only wanted to help, and the nervous pilot wanted to believe her. Believe IN her. Perhaps it was that she reminded her of Rita in some ways, and her grandmother in others.

Her gut was telling her to not over-react. Her instincts were saying to push past that knee-jerk fear. After all, Enalia had proven herself as good a friend as she was a Captain. Her Grandmother proved herself to truly care for Mnhei’sahe and wanted the best for her, to the point of finally choosing to let her go to live her own life. Even Death herself had proven to be a loyal friend who had bent the rules of her station to help Mnhei’sahe when she needed it the most. And now she had a new choice to make. To trust this stranger that somehow didn’t feel like a stranger, or shut back down and go on the defensive.

Taking a breath and pushing the fear out of her mind, Dox made her choice. “I think I understand… I do, but… Charybdis...” She hesitated, trying to form her words as her anxiety allowed the accent she had worked hard for years to keep under wraps began to slip out. “You’ve been… watching me? If you’ve been watching me… then you likely know just why that idea makes me… somewhat nervous. I need to know if… watching was all you’ve done.”

Setting herself a bit more upright, chin raised, the old woman offered full eye contact as she spoke. "I swear upon my honor as a Starfleet officer, I have never interfered in your career, for weal or woe. I was made aware, yes. I did not clear nor hinder your application, I have not put any pull behind any postings, and I have in no way manipulated your career, as busybody retired admirals tend to do. I swear it on the lives of my great-grandchildren, on my honor as a Lady of Clan MacGregor, and may Al'thindor take me this night should I speak falsely."

The last was a phrase Dox had recently learned, an old one that seldom had meaning on Romulus any longer. Yet the woman's sincerity shone through, as did her choice of verbiage. 'For weal or woe' was a turn of phrase Mnhei'sahe's grandmother had employed during their time together, and the young pilot smiled slightly at the welcome comparison.

"The only reason you are here now, is because I know how it feels to run that gauntlet you've been through- we're still getting to that part of my story. It happened more than once, you see. But there was no one like me, no one who had experienced what I went through. I was rather alone in that experience, and I remember how singularly put upon by fate I often felt. How utterly alone I felt in the universe, in the choices I had made, in the experiences I had encountered. Which is why I reached out to you- I swear it." The old woman's eyes had teared up a bit at the recollection, and she hastily wiped them away. "I did not want another honorable Rihannsu Starfleet officer to have every loyalty questioned, and imagine that she was alone in the universe. That is the only reason you are here, and you are in no way beholden to stay. I just thought... knowing you are not the first might help. Upon my mnhei'sahe, if you will pardon the phrase."

"I knew what the word meant far before I knew it was my first, given name, and I have no issue with its use. Especially here and now. But thank you." Mnhei'sahe replied sincerely. She was blushing a light green with just a twinge of embarrassment at having clearly caused Charybdis distress with her question. She was, if nothing else, still a perpetually guilt-ridden woman and it showed. "I apologize. I meant no disrespect, nor did I wish to upset you. It's just that… I've had a few too many people interfere in my life. Try to lead me where they wanted me. For... for weal or woe. And it's made me… hesitant to trust. But I'm trying to be better about it and I appreciate what you're telling me."

"And…" Mnhei'sahe continued, looking a bit more emotional herself but the smile had returned and it was clearly sincere. "And I appreciate knowing that I'm not going down a path like this… alone. I do. Thank you." Then her tone shifted back to the curious. "You said you've been through this all too. Was… that what Risa was about?"

"Ahhhh, Risa," the old woman turned once more to reverie, and she smiled. "I had friends... when you looked as I did, were smarter than the rest of the crew and you were sleeping your way to the top, you didn't have many friends. That, I suspect, hasn't changed through the years. But I did, and they were dear to me, so I... appropriated some funds that would otherwise have gone lost, and put them to good use to buy my friends and I a night on the town like no other. Which of course meant we got tangled up with jewel thieves and mobsters and the seamy underside of Risa, back when it had one. We became a sensation for a moment, which drew the attention of the Syndicate."



Listening, Mnhei'sahe leaned in a little closer and took a sip of tea. Dealing with or avoiding the Orion Syndicate was standard operating procedure growing up on a smuggling ship, so she knew exactly how dangerous they were.

"When we got back aboard, Patrick was jealous that I had received some accolade and I did not defer it all to him, as I tended to do in those days. So he got angry and we had a fight, and we broke up. I was... devastated. He was my first love, and I turned to kali-fal, as we are wont to do, and Fiona and Selune hauled me off to a remote cabin to lick my wounds and heal my broken heart. Such a fool I was, for a man who was never worth it," she chuckled, shaking her head at her own foolishness of the past. "When we were attacked by assassins sent by the Syndicate, we had no weapons, no means to defend ourselves. Just our wits and determination, and we managed to make it to the shuttle against all odds. Which might have been the end of the story, as we found the booby trap on the hatch... but not the one in the engines."

"Fiona had been experimenting with installing warp drive capability into a Class-F shuttlecraft- always tinkering, always pushing the boundaries, she was," Charybdis choked up for a moment at the memory, then her sharply-angled brows furrowed as she blinked away tears. "Going to warp in an atmosphere was insanely suicidal, but I... was a risk-taker. Better any chance than none, and we were all going to die. So we said our farewells to one another and rolled the dice with the cosmos." Smiling a wry smile, she added, "It worked, obviously. It just catapulted us forward twenty-one years in time."

"We were brought back to Earth for debriefing and medical care, and it seemed in the intervening years that I skipped over, Starfleet had encountered the Romulans again, and they now knew how to differentiate them from Vulcans. My cover was blown, although my allegiances had long since switched- I was Starfleet. I hadn't reported in once since my assignment to the Bonne Chance, and while Fiona and Selune knew, Starfleet Command had a prickly problem on their hands." Getting up, the old woman bustled over to fetch the teapot, to refill both their mugs before continuing.

"Siivas... that Deltan doctor I mentioned earlier- saved me and my soul in so many ways,” Char sighed as she recollected. “He understood time and space in a manner I have never grasped, and he was waiting for us when we popped back out over a Risan ski chalet twenty-odd years later, and he stood up for me when Starfleet wanted me in irons. Our reappearance was something of an event, you see- the Bonne Chance Trio, as we were called, had become symbols, a rallying cry synonymous with rooting out the Syndicate and driving them back.”

“The image of us all together and mugging for the camera was one of Starfleet diversity- a Caitan, a Human and grinning 'Vulcan' who had beaten the Syndicate at their own game, then were cut down by assassins on Risa of all places." Pointing to an image on the wall, Dox could see the headline and the image- a fiery-haired spitfire that reminded her of an ensign under her own command, a snowy white-furred Caitan with golden eyes who was exotic and beautiful, and a bombshell in a blue science minidress grinning from ear to ear as she offered the Vulcan salute.

The story had become bittersweet, and Mnhei'sahe could hear it in Charybdis's voice. That pain was still in there, inexorably tied to the good memories.

"We were heroes, martyrs who had miraculously returned from death, and the entire Federation was excited about it. So discovering their V'tosh k'atur Vulcan Commander of twenty years before was actually a Romulan spy made things a bit sticky for Starfleet Command, as you may imagine." At that, Charybdis paused to give her audience a moment to digest all of that, as it did explain a bit of how she had come to be in the position she was in, as a Romulan, although it was a bit of a cliffhanger.

Pondering what she was being told, Mnhei'sahe nodded and took a sip of her tea. As she did, there was a pause in the retelling and she thought about it. "I would… assume this was when you had to go through something far worse then what I just did with Command. But at some point, I have to imagine the Tal'Shiar must have renewed their interest in your return?"

"All I had to do was bleed on the wrong space station to catch their attention, after all." The young red-headed pilot commented.

That earned her a snort of derision, and a look from up under those brows- an inquisitive look. The look of a keeper of secrets who comes across a clue and pursues it. In that moment, Dox could see that old hunter of the unknown. "All right, THAT I don't know. What's that twist of your tale? 23.7% of the humanoid population with pointed ears roughly in our size category bleed green of a variety of shades. What made you- ah, your report. Riov Rendal took your sample to study your ancestry and that led to your father and the Senator, of course." At that, the wizened old Rihannsu's face pinched together in embarrassment.

"I'm... sorry. I knew that, I just had to think it through, and... it's much more difficult than it used to be. Siivas was my mentor, my Eeshur in the Deltan ways, philosophies and disciplines. He was my guide to realms far beyond this one, and he schooled me in the telepathic arts, guiding the reintegrations of my shattered id, ego, and superego who were all not really getting along." Looking up, the pointy-eared old officer offered a somewhat sheepish expression. "I'll get to the point, but I'm an old woman, and I don't get much company. So indulge me, hm?"

With a smile, a light chuckle and a nod of acquiescence from Dox, the flashback sequence continued. "Sleeping with Patrick awoke my latent ability, and I was raw talent. Siivas taught me how to hone it, scan for minds, gain awareness of life filling space. His lover Andurean Velth, the emerald-skinned Kolari assassin who was sworn to aid me... That's so racist of them and they don't even see it. They invented names for our races, and they refuse to call us by the names we identify ourselves as a species. 117 years I spent in Starfleet. Don't kid yourself, those shoulderboards came neither quickly nor easily. But in all that time, despite everything I did for them, the one concession that I tried to accomplish I never could."

"They still call us bloody Romulans."

"At any rate, the Kolari, whom the Federation insist on calling the Orions, bore a windserpent. The little life form was an amazingly deadly pet slash partner, and spectacularly telepathic. When they reproduced, they decided how many offspring they would have, and offered them to suitable candidates. I was chosen, and intrigued, I agreed. Mind you, this from a man who offered to tutor me in the ways of the assassin. I politely declined, deciding that I was already quite dangerous enough.”

“Sning the windserpent was born into the world, and he bit me, to test if I could survive the poison. I had fever dreams of things to come, and things that would not be because of me. It awakened my mind, and Siivas saw my body through the fever. When I awoke, I had considerably more telepathic ability, and a sidekick who spoke in my head. Now I was even stronger, frighteningly capable telepathically and it was as if this great ball of destiny was just rolling along behind me. I knew I was destined for something, I just had to figure out what."

Pausing to take a sip of her tea, the chubby old matron in the faded blue dress sighed. "Yes. Point is, Siivas was supposed to teach me how to compartmentalize my memories, because I have total recall. My mind records every form of input and files it away in my limited mortal brain. My well-built and well-organized mind, again, thank you telepathic surgeon, and perhaps the closest thing I ever had to a father..." At the admission, a sour expression came over Charybdis' face as she fought to stifle what was clearly a great sadness for her. Snarling a bit and blinking away tears, she swallowed, took a snotty inhalation and steeled herself to press on with her explanation.

But for Dox, the pieces were falling into place as even more parallels became apparent. Telepathic abilities awakened by external forces and a guide slash father figure to help her control them. Compartmentalized memories. All things that mirrored her own experiences once again. Listening and watching Charybdis's facial cues and body language, the young officer was beginning to see what was happening to the elder Rihannsu. The engineering that had made her smarter and faster and stronger was all still there, in a body aging beyond the capability of managing it. Like trying to run the Hera’s warp drive and sentient computer core on a Constitution-class starship. Sooner or later, the hardware would no longer be able to keep up.

"When he died, that wasn't a lesson he'd taught me yet- how to compartmentalize. Siivas died a hero- he and that whole wonderful crew of Sickbay misfits, from the Sulamid color-changing tumbleweeds of pseudopods and eyestalks to Zhir, the noble Efrosian botanist. Andurean Velth was visiting that day that the Bulikaya particles mutated with whatever that virus Spotty brought back with him from his trip through the dimensions, and they became multiphasic entities. Which meant that they were a contagion that was transmittable through force fields, solid objects- anything." Char paused as her brows contorted and she sucked in some air, reliving the memory clearly emotionally painful for her.

"They... torched the entirety of Deck 6. Flooded it with a sustained plasma burn for a full 42 seconds, which is apparently what they expect the 'liferaft' section of the Constitution-class saucer requires to purge any biological, nuclear or chemical danger."

"They had to, you see. If it had taken the ship, we might have found a cure. But it was mutating wildly- Siivas sent the report before..." The old adventurer's nose twitched, and she raised her chin to continue. "At the time, we were in the rarified position to be drydocked planetside, not in orbit. Parked on Vulcan, no less. They all died saving the planet Vulcan, and almost no one will ever know of their sacrifice." The silver-haired old country woman's hands wrung in her lap as her face contorted with the memory of a great grief of a bygone age. "Because we were a secret, you see. The technologies we dabbled in, the secrets we knew... when I finally set her off, to perform one last task for me... No."

Mopping at her tears with her fingertips, the old woman drew herself stiffly erect, with a military posture reminiscent of Rita, in an odd sort of way. Drawing her chin up, the old woman steeled herself, and for just a moment, Dox could see a starship commander under all that weight and age, and found herself having to keep her own emotions in check. The story was hitting her hard, and her natural compassion was making it difficult to listen to without feeling strongly for the great woman before her.

"We'll get to that part. But I mustn't get ahead of myself without making the salient points. Ah," The bony fingers snapped. "My memory, you see. I remember it all, it's just.... the filing system isn't what it used to be because I ran out of room a very long time ago. I wasn't supposed to live that long, you understand. They expected five, ten years of service out of me, to serve some espionage escapade for them, then I was disposable. While I do have the satisfaction of having outlived them all, my memory comes and goes quite a bit these days, and my ability to craft a straightforward narrative might be diverted in a stream of consciousness that might take us off on all sorts of tangents. So... bear with me."

At this admission, it was small wonder that the old woman's grief was so unbearable to her. For while she might not have perfect access, all of the events were stored perfectly within her mind. So unlike memories of pain that would dull over time, she remembered every tragedy perfectly, every loss and the subsequent grief with perfect crystalline clarity.

It sounded a bit like a layer of hell for the Tal'Shiar experiment gone rogue over a century ago.

Nodding, Dox smiled and decided to take a little initiative at the moment, wanting to let her companion's mind rest a moment. The elder Rihannsu Admiral had given the young pilot an approval earlier to be more casual and now, she felt, was the time to take it. As their stew bowls had been empty for a little while now, Dox stood up quietly and took them over to the sink to rinse them and while she did, she replied casually. She had a very real, warm smile for the woman she was growing quite fond of in the moment and wanted her to feel comfortable.

“Take your time, Char.” Dox said, using the more friendly nickname she was told she could use if she felt comfortable doing so, and wanted now to express that comfort to the elder who had been reaching out to her. Putting the clean dishes in the drip rack, she dried her hands on the dishtowel and came back too quickly for there to be protests at her taking on that task as a guest. “Unless you’re kicking me out, my ship isn’t planning on leaving Jupiter station for a good week still, so I have time and no intentions of going anywhere anytime soon.”

“It’s your story. Tell it at whatever pace you like. I appreciate the details, and I like to think I’m a good enough pilot to keep up with the course changes easily enough.” Dox said as she wandered a bit on her way back to the table, taking a closer look at the uniforms and displays. Particularly, the vintage baby blue Science uniform so much like the uniform Rita wore, from that same wonderful era she had learned so much about.

“My commander… well, my chosen Rinam really…” Mnhei’sahe said, referring to Rita as she was with the Rihannsu word for sister, “...she’s from this same era. We talk about it a lot , and she’s taught me quite a bit about the ships and systems of that era, which is all so amazing to me. And she still wears her command gold minidress. Looks almost like this, really.”

"I've read about her," the old Intelligence officer admitted. "A fascinating case study, she and her husband. Quite the epic escape from a universe that never was, across space and time. We'll be getting back to that in due time..."

Stepping back to the table to sit down, Mnhei’sahe had a warm smile and nodded. “We got stuck on a holodeck that was being controlled by the shard of a Titan once… it’s all in my file, so nothing classified to the Admiralty.” Dox held up her teacup with a nod towards the elder woman listening across from her as she took a sip then continued, “But the recreation of her old ship was taken from her own mind, so it was perfect. I got to fly a Connie and the holodeck replicated my actual uniform into a gold command one of those. When the simulation ended, the uniform remained. I have it framed on the wall in my quarters, next to my first uniform. All things considered, a good memory, really. When I think about it, the good ones… they’re finally starting to outnumber the bad ones.”

Then she looked at the wizened Rihannsu in her still-sharp eyes and smiled a little broader. “Like this. A good one in the making. But I’m sorry for my own little tangent, there. But like you said, this isn’t a debriefing. Just two... ke'rhin talking.” With that, using a Rihan term for fellow Rihanna meant to indicate friendship, Mnhei’sahe deferred back to the Admiral.

"Not at all, Mnhei'sahe, if I may call you that. Sharing means that you feel comfortable doing so, giving of a bit of yourself instead of just listening. That makes it an interactive encounter, which is always far more creative and productive, my friend. Now where was I... ah, yes. Starfleet, 2285..."

"Yes, as you surmised, there was a markedly hostile debriefing, a great number of interrogations of myself and my shipmates, and eventually Starfleet decided that the best way to deal with me was to let me destroy myself. The last of the Constitution refit classes to come off the line was the USS Victory, NCC-1967." Pausing to point to a model starship hanging from the ceiling, sure enough, the lettering on the hull declared her to be a starship registry Dox had never heard of in her studies of ships of the line, although admittedly she had never gone looking beyond what was on record, in spite of her interest in the subject.



"A starship which you've never heard of, correct- more of that secret history we'll keep touching upon," Charybdis admitted. "The Victory was being stripped out by a criminal Starfleet captain named Herod who was cutting corners and pocketing the cost overruns. who planned to sell her off the Syndicate once she was deemed spaceworthy. Instead, I was taken under the wing of one Rear Admiral Tom L. Jones," Char pointed to another image on the wall, of a human with a hangdog expression that made him look like a human hound dog with pockmarked skin and even the photo made him appear to have no sense of humor.

"So, they sent you our to fail. To solve their problem for them." Dox said quietly, not wanting to interrupt the tale.



"Admiral Jones promoted me to captain and saddled me with a crew of misfits and rejects from across the fleet- and those misfits and renegades were the best crew a captain could ask for. Maur Weaver was a genius in the engine room, a pioneer in dual core warp design. Siivas and Andurean returned to assume their posts, Selune took the helm, I had Valin at navigation and Fiona served as my first officer. Once we saw her through the launch and the space trials, I thought we were prepared to launch and assume our mission, but... Fiona was cracking, though I couldn't see it. I was so wrapped up in pushing the Victory out to space, I didn't see what was right in front of me."

A deep breath followed by closed eyes brought to old woman center, then she pressed on. "The McCray's ancestral home is Eilean Donnan, not far from here on Loch Duich. In that old castle there is a memorial, the 'Wall of the Fallen' they call it, where those of the clan who lost their lives in service are memorialized." Looking up and away, she recalled the inscription. "We are the dead," she quoted softly from memory, "Short days ago, we lived, felt dawn, saw sunset's glow. Loved and were loved, and now we lie in Flander's Fields.’ Our names were on that wall, and remain there today."

"Our journey through time was not without cost, it seemed. I was designed to be hardy, durable and adaptive, so I simply took to the new circumstances. Selune was always... detached, so she simply remained that way, until the day she became unstuck in time and drifted to a future era. But losing twenty years of her life, seeing the changes wrought, knowing that her mother had taken her starship the USS Baensidhe and waged war on the Syndicate on Risa against orders, and done time in the Luna penal colony over it... all of this and the strain took it's toll.”

“One night Fiona was unwell, so I stayed with her in her quarters. The next morning, she was... gone." The old woman's face contorted with grief as she unsuccessfully attempted to push past it, and for an awkward moment, tears fell freely as her face wore that mask of anguish at the loss, as if it were fresh all over again.

"She... was my... my faithful friend, who cared for me as family," the old fleeter recalled, struggling through the pain. "When she died- not in some great sacrifice or heroic effort like she deserved, but just quietly in her sleep… a part of me died with her. I still... I still miss her, and she's a hundred eleven years gone now. But she... she made me a better person, by being my friend, my shipmate, my first officer… and my sister. I've spent the rest of my life trying to live up to who she thought I was, and who she thought I could be. Just as Siivas did, and the Deltans who dubbed me the 'Firebird' in their writings."

Taking a break, the old country woman pulled out a hankie from her up her sleeve, and mopped at the tears and blew her nose. Taking a sharp intake of breath, she composed herself a bit and explained. "Fiona's death was a catalyst, you see. As much as I loved this planet, her family were now my family, and she had literally introduced me to the man I would marry, whose children I would bear, and whose grandchildren preside over Clan MacGregor to this day. Her death meant that no matter how far I roamed, Earth would always be my home now.”

“Not Vulcan, which cost me so much over my life. Not ch'Rihan, to which I had ever just been a tool. But Earth, with her lush green hills and fields and deep cold lakes and craggy peaks. This would ever be my home, and all because of that little redheaded engineer who didn't care what I was or how I had come to be. Just that I was her friend, and she always believed me to be a hero... so when she was gone, I had no choice but to live up to it."

To Be Continued...

The tears had continued to flow as the old woman spoke, and it was clear that she was pressing through it to make her point. Those violet eyes, still leaking tears, sought out those of the young helmsman. "Is that what your rinam is like? Those humans and their lofty expectations of you to somehow fulfill their larger than life image of you as an heroic figure?"

As Char talked, Mnhei'sahe got up quietly and brought the elder Rihannsu some tissues that she spied on the corner of the counter as that hankey she saw looked like it might need backup. Thought with the content of the story, the young pilot grabbed one for her own damp eyes before she sat back down.

"Rita…" Dox smirked, wiping her own cheek. "Something like that. She's… sometimes a little larger than life. She's the hero, not me. But for whatever reason, she thinks I can be that. She's pushed me to be better at every turn. To be more than I was the day before. But she sets that standard. If there's something that can't be done, she does it and makes it look easy. Though, she lets me see the reality. She's shown me how hard it is to be that for someone else, and she has to be that for the entire crew."

Running a hand over her ear, the red-headed young Lieutenant looked back at Char's old blue uniform and chuckled. "She's… she sets the standard. She is everything Starfleet has ever purported itself to be. And she's always been there for me, both as a Commander and as a friend. She bolsters me when my confidence is failing and holds me together when I think I can't. She's the one that encouraged me to embrace my heritage, once I found out about what was hidden. She helped me reconcile with my mother. She was the first person I told my real name to."

"Be better... heh." The old retired veteran shifted her weight in the chair with a wince, waving off the concerned look it brought forth from her guest. "That was the core of Siivas' philosophy. That was what he challenged me to be... every day, be better. Make a better decision, learn from that mistake, and not to always succeed- but to always try. I don't know if it is the Deltan philosophy, or just that of his clan, which was apparently quite extensive and influential in their culture. But it was simple... and effective.”
“All of them...” the old woman’s eyes took on a faraway look as she recalled friends long gone, “Siivas, Andurean, Qurka Qurg, Fiona, Selune, T'vyn, even Carlow... they made me a better person, and I became what they thought of me. Belief will do that. I'm glad that you have friends who believe in you. Listen to them- their perspective of you is far clearer in your darker moments than that of yourself. At least, it was in my experience."

"I try. Sometimes I do better than not. Sometimes that voice that tries to convince me I don't deserve them is… louder than it should be. But without them, I wouldn't be here right now. They believed in me enough to risk their careers and lives to save me. If not for them believing in me, I'd still be there on ch’Rihan, and…" Mnhei'sahe paused a moment, glancing down with a thoughtful expression and a cryptically worded reply. "I don't like knowing what would have happened."

Then she brought her eyes back up and nodded. "But, yes. ‘Be better’ is Rita's mantra, too. And they all inspire that in me. With everything they've all done for me, I can't let them down. I can't dishonor them that way."

"Don't see it as a responsibility to them. See it as a responsibility to yourself, that you owe it to yourself to be that better person. Don't change for other people... it doesn't work well, in my experience. But I am not you, either, so follow your heart and it will likely lead you on an honorable path. So... there were inquiries., Charybdis pressed on.

“I crossed swords with a Vulcan scientist named Suval on more than one occasion, who continued trying to undermine me within command. There was a high-profile battle at Starbase 23 where we snatched victory from the jaws of defeat, but it was all buried under inquiries and political denials and maneuvering,” the old officer snarled at the memory, then her tone became more resigned. “That was also where I became formally branded a traitor. I opened fire and destroyed two Birds of Prey as they were decloaking to surround us in the aftermath of the battle. There was never any coming back from that... my honor was stained, even though the maneuver was craven and they expected an easy capture."

"You see, over time I grew to realize that quite a few of we wild talents of the Star Empire were still active. The pack of experiments that had survived and been seeded amongst their enemies in the Federation. While I had infiltrated Starfleet against orders, other operatives had worked their way into the command structure, taking lovers, seducing, blackmailing, and puppeteering their way to political power. The Tal'Shiar way," Charybdis snarled, then shook her head.

"The reputation of our people is one of sniveling, backstabbing cowards with no honor, and it's all because of the kreldanni Tal'Shiar. I fought them for damn near a hundred years, and I was never able to rout them out. Stymie them, set them back, cripple operations in the field... but I could never find a way to bring our people to throw off their yoke."

"Likely a lot to do with me being a traitor to ch'Rihan, I suppose," the old woman chuckled mirthlessly. "Hoof, I should get a proper cup of tea in me, with some caffeine." Levering herself up with an exhalation of effort, the chubby old woman bustled about the organized kitchen, clearly knowing where everything was, and beginning the tea preparation as a ritual she knew well. "So I should likely get past all these stories of loss and people you've never heard of an likely won't find many records of, and explain that upon learning that Starfleet Command was compromised, I knew I had to act. These were my people, literally- there were only so many of us who survived, and we were all quite exceptional. But more than Rihannsu, they were my people. Genetically augmented, possessed of superior intellect, and pawns in a game they were never meant to see won. Disposable assets."

"The honor of our people and avoiding an intergalactic holocaust as the Tal'Shiar took over the Federation was on my mind, of course. But I knew I had an obligation to that dysfunctional family of exceptional individuals out there to try to stop them, and bring them to see that the Federation was right. The great experiment of coming together in peace worked." Char set a plate covered with small cookies on the table as she tended to the whistling teapot. "I believed in the Federation, and I'd made my choice and cast my lot- I was Starfleet, and I would oppose any efforts to destroy it with all the means at my disposal. Which were... not inconsequential."

Dropping in a teabag and refilling the mug that had held the Vulcan spiced tea with a steaming hot replacement, that was decidedly stronger and more pungent. Charybdis MacGregor set the kettle back on the stovetop, then shuffled back to the kitchen table to ease herself slowly into her chair, her stoicism overpowered by the clear sign that it hurt the old woman to move about. Yet she clearly insisted on doing just that, demonstrating her determined nature. "In 2268, then Captain Kirk and the Enterprise crossed the neutral zone- an act of war. During the course of the mission, which had been ordered by Starfleet Intelligence, Spock seduced the ship's commander, while Kirk stole the cloaking device from the engine room. Imagine that- a Starship captain disconnecting a delicate and technologically advanced device, disguised as a ‘Romulan’."



Leaning in, Mnhei’sahe raised her eyebrow slightly. The story was intersecting with the history she was much more aware of, but she didn’t interrupt as Charybdis was right in the middle of her retelling.

"Kirk's engineer, the great Montgomery Scott, managed to make it work, to his credit, but of course he destroyed the reticulating coils in the process, and overloaded the gridmapping computer by attempting to wavemap the Enterprise's hull, while the settings were still obviously set for a T'liss class Bird of Prey. That ship was the Feathers of Al'thindor, whose commander miscalculated the skill of the Enterprise's transporter technician, and managed to get captured along with her cloaking device. That woman was Riov Liviana Charvanek... my mother." Char paused to let the personal implications of that particular point sink in before she continued.

And sink in, it did. Charvanek was an important figure in history, in both the Federation and within the Imperium, and even Dox had known at least a bit about her. The young woman who had just been intensively drilled on her people's history only a month prior by her Senator Grandmother internally chastised herself for not making the connection to the name earlier.

"When I took on the Victory, I secured the broken cloaking device, under the pretense of 'repairing' it- of course I could repair it. What I sought was a considerably more... transphasic effect, if you are familiar with the concept. I had to redeem my mother's honor... and the only way was to transform the symbol of her defeat... into Victory. You see, the treaty of Algeron would not be signed until 2311. Truth be told, the Victory- or rumors of her capabilities- were one of the reasons that accord came about. Because we were not only a sensor ghost, we literally phased through matter She could go unseen to remarkably sophisticated scanners, and with a little clever application I could even camouflage her... well, as a pre-refit version of herself. But that's still a bit ahead of the story here."



"Stop me if my meandering loses you or if you've questions, Lieutenant. It is rather a long and complex tale... but that's how life is, wouldn't you say?" The old woman with the violet eyes set in wrinkled skin sought those of the young woman with the smooth unlined face.

With the lightest of chuckles, thinking about the bizarre complexity of her own life only among the last year, Mnhei’sahe nodded and smirked slightly. “I can… corroborate that fairly well just with my own life. But no, I’m following just fine. You really aren’t meandering, Char.” Picking up her cup to take a sip, Mnhei’sahe thought out loud for a moment. “But, I remember reading about that incident with the Enterprise. Stealing that cloak was considered an inciting incident in what would become the Rihannsu Civil War in 2276 where… wait.” As she spoke, she all but dropped her mug as her eyes went wide. “If Liviana Charvanek is your mother, then that means that the former Empress… the first Empress, Ael t'Rllaillieu… she would be your great aunt?”

"Who sat upon the throne in my time as captain of the Victory, yes," Charybdis waved off the link to greatness that her bloodline carried, as her great aunt's nobility and courage were historical fact, and had no reflection upon herself. "But again, this was a Tal'Shiar operation that had taken years to take root, and in truth, it had long since gotten away from its handlers- not unlike myself. So while the Empire was settling into prosperity and a return to honor, the machinations of the Tal'Shiar were still afoot, still eroding the federation from within, while the Empress and the Senate were blissfully ignorant of what was being done in the name of our people."

"I learned all of this at the Christmas party at MacGregor Manse- the great house there across the way where my grandson raises his children to rule the clan someday. The party where my mother snuck onto Earth to visit me and meet her grandchildren, and when she slept with the human astronaut Carlow, to eventually give birth to my half-sister Freddie. I know..." Charybdis waved off the circumstances, knowing the improbability of much of her tale, although she was only getting warmed up.

"We all lead such… elaborate lives, in hindsight, But I remember that party and the crew gathered around, all happy to be there, Raine such a proud father, Qurka agreeing to be the children's nanny. It was a joyous time that I still recall.. very fondly." Pausing at that memory with a faraway look in her eyes and a wistful smile, Charybdis refocused on her story. "Through mother, I will say that I became aware of the full scope of Great Aunt Ael's actions, and they did influence me later in life. But we'll get to that part."

Following, Mnhei’sahe couldn’t help but smile at the all-too-familiar insanity of what she was hearing. Along with seeing the positive effect that the happy memories had on Char’s body language and tone.

"I had no means to root out the agents scattered throughout the Federation, manipulating Starfleet itself. Even journeying to ch'Rihan herself would yield no fruits, were I able to do so- the Tal'Shiar only recorded their operations once they were complete, and nothing could be done to affect them any longer. The secret police preferred to be the ones to write history, you see. Which is what gave me the idea for the mad scheme that would be both my salvation and my undoing." Pausing, the old woman summoned up a rueful smile.

"You see, I was Starfleet Intelligence. I had access to information many did not... including Ambassador Spock's equations for time travel. Initially calculated to use Sol, they were easily adapted to any M-class star, if one was doing so for a Constitution-class Starship. If one was brilliant enough to understand the calculations and recalculate them for moving forward or backward in time. I was, thus I had a scheme and determination."

"Which was when one Liviana McCray stepped out of a doorway in space and time, and visited me in my quarters the night before I planned to drop off the majority of my crew, steal my Starship and go racing off in time to change history. What cared I for the future if I were planning to rewrite it, and I had no designs on visiting the past, so no danger of changing our existing history existed, or so I believed. But when my own granddaughter stepped into my quarters, daughter of a babe I had borne on Christmas eve 2286 who was still in diapers at MacGregor Manse, my life stepped onto a very different stage." Indicating yet another image on the wall, the old woman continued to illustrate her tale with the keepsakes she had gathered and the images of lives gone by, displayed in her simple country home on a star far from her birthplace.

The image in question was of a female with coppery red hair and a deep, burnished tan, far from the relatively pale skin coloration with a greenish hint so common in Rihannsu. Her uniform was unrecognizable, but unzipped so low that the 'family resemblance; could not possibly go unobserved. Bright inhumanly piercing blue eyes were languid and knowing, and even the pose was almost aggressively sexual, and one image told you a lot about the woman, if you knew how to read the clues.



But again, it was in the bizarre parallels upon which Mnhei’sahe was fixated. Char had been visited by a relation from her own future to warn her, and the thought evoked memories of the Kodria, the android granddaughter of Enalia Telvan who called her ‘Auntie Dox’ that had endeared herself to the crew of the Hera in such a short span of time. Even thinking of the young woman now brought a smile to Dox’s face as she continued to listen.

"Brilliant, rebellious and determined, Liviana was part of a crew whom had stolen their timeship when it was due to be decommissioned, infused the ship's computer will a full-fledged artificial intelligence, and the Constellation 7 and her small crew roamed the timestream in search of adventure, sightseeing history and righting what once went wrong. This she revealed to me as she offered her services. My executive officer T'vyn, the Vulcan pacifistic behavioral scientist, was to be kidnapped to the future that night, which was where she was destined, along with Carlow, Liviana informed me. Loss often came hand in hand with success for me, you see. I do hope this will not be a pattern for your life as well, Mnhei'sahe."

At this, Mnhei’sahe dipped her head slightly. She thought of the officers that died under her at the Section 32 Starbase. She thought of Ensign Raphael Paulson, killed by an assassin droid sent after her. She thought of all the things she had almost lost over the last year. She thought of the distance that had sprung up in her friendship with Doctor Asa Dael that pained her. She thought of losing her father within minutes of truly meeting him for the first time. Of finally stepping foot on the world she hailed from, only to have to give it up to save everything she already had, and the children on the way. She thought of all of this as she sighed slightly.

“When I was captive on that Warbird, the first two weeks were… different. After a couple of days, I had a choice to make. Had I held my ground and remained intractable, they would have begun torturing my mother. Subjected us both to their… Neural Extraction Converter right there. So I chose to try and play for time and accept my grandmother’s offers to learn what she was willing to teach me about ch’Rihan and the Rihannsu. And about my own family’s history that I knew nothing about.” Mnhei’sahe interjected, hoping not to disrupt her Elder’s tale too far to get to her point.

“But… and this is perhaps the point that has given Starfleet the most pause in reconfirming my commission… in those two weeks where I had made that concession, I absorbed it all willingly. I… enjoyed that time together in spite of the circumstances. She showed me so much. Not just useful tactical data on the functioning of the Senate. Not just history and facts. But she also showed me family, and compassion. She truly believed she was rescuing me by doing what she did.” Mnhei’sahe added, hoping it would lend context to her part of the story.

“But she also told me what it meant that my mother named me ‘Mnhei’sahe’. That it was considered dangerous to name anything for so broadly defined a virtue. To do so, she said, imparts on that thing all the properties of that virtue. For... 'weal or woe,' she said.” Mnhei’sahe smiled awkwardly as she evoked the turn of phrase both Char and her Grandmother used. “That my life would, as a result of my name, be something of a parabola of triumph and tragedy. So far… she hasn’t been wrong.”

The spotted fleshy hand of the old pointed-eared menace reached across the distance to take the hand of the young officer of the next generation into her own, and those nebulous violet eyes sought the dark eyes of youth she sought to comfort- or at least commiserate. "A great Earth philosopher once wrote that we all lead... such elaborate lives. With wild ambitions in our sights. The thrust of that... the idea that we were born to play on a larger stage than we imagined..."

In that moment, Mnhei’sahe closed her eyes for a moment and let herself simply experience the sensation. Had she the time, she wondered if she could feel Charybdis’ energy like she could with Mona. Just as how she was able to, for the briefest of moments, with her mother. But she was nowhere near that skilled, and simply appreciated the warmth of the gesture.

As she paused, she thought of Char’s words. Of her Grandmother’s dreams for her. Of the destinies that had been laid before her by Kodria, and by Death herself. That stage Char spoke of was large, indeed.

Looking off wistfully across the simple cottage cluttered with relics and reminders, the old woman chuckled and smirked, one eyebrow raising up slowly. "My dreams were modest... to escape my captors, to live free on my own terms. To stand for what I believed in, and stop my people from being intergalactic assholes, as Carlow used to say. To love and be loved, to raise a family. I did get to do all of those things and more, but..." Gesturing to the wall opposite the kitchen were, Dox realized, where hung all the images of dead people Charybdis had known, so many in those maroon monster uniforms. Her very own Wall of the Fallen, where she memorialized some of those losses that still pained her heart in recollection, just as strongly every time.

Yet there were some images from the old Romulan renegade's tales that did not hang on that wall, which one might take to mean that they were still likely amongst the living, insofar as Charybdis knew.

"Great deeds, Lieutenant Dox, will inevitably lead to larger things," the old starship commander picked up her chin and summoned some of that old leadership. "It tends to be transformative, and it takes you places you never imagined. The only advice that I may offer, not that you asked, but..." Clutching her smooth and soft hand in both of her own plump and liver-spotted hands, the old spook gripped them with a bit of urgency, and her eyes sought those of Mnhei'sahe Dox.

"Treasure those good moments- the moments of peace. Having morning coffee with your loved ones, or laughing about a joke on the bridge with your shipmates. Savor your victories, but don't believe yourself undefeatable, and just... appreciate it. Appreciate even those tragedies and losses, for they too will forge you anew. Just... try to not let those losses harden your heart. Don't become what you oppose because you chose angry bitterness over hope. It's hard, it is perhaps the hardest thing you will ever know, but I can assure you from here where my perspective is enormous- it is worth it."

"I'm a very old woman- no, I know how long we CAN live. Had I led a normal life perhaps I might go on that long, but I am old and broken down, and I have lost so much and so many. Yet I still love all of them- all the lost, all the fallen, all my setbacks and losses. Because my life has been a great adventure, my friend. I am old and comfortable... well, as comfortable as I can be, at least. I live free, I tend to my garden, I putter in my lab, and I review reports. I still hold out the hope that our people will be saved from what they are now, and returned to what they could be."

"I have done my part... for our people, for history," Char snapped her fingers and shook her head, her absent-mindedness at work once more. "Ah, still need to tell that part of the story so you'll understand. But now, it's your turn. It's your time. The 25th century is nearly here. Let the stars write your epic, play the parts the fates have in store for you, and hope you are canny enough and strong enough to see it through, whatever it may be. Above all, keep hope alive in your heart- for if you lose that, what price victory, hm?"

Nodding delicately, Mnhei’sahe paused for a moment. She could still feel the warmth from Char’s hands on her own and she thought over the elder’s words. And after a few long seconds of silence, the younger woman spoke, “Fate… the stars… it’s difficult knowing that they have plans for me. But I suppose you know a little something about that too, what with your own granddaughter coming to you. And Sonak… from the Hera… he’s been helping me train my own mind. Well, he also came to meet with me as a representative of the Vulcan government, and there’s interest in taking advantage of my family connections to open up new talks towards reunification. I don’t know if I can do anything towards any of this… but I have hope. At least I need to try, if that makes any sense.”

"Perhaps diplomacy will succeed when violence and trickery failed. That would be the Starfleet, way, would it not? To turn those swords to plowshares, and to win with reason and measure what could not be wrested by force... or trickery." The old woman nodded, removing her hands from her grip on the young woman's hand. "I should get on with my story. The sun isn't getting any higher, and we've miles to go ere night falls, so to speak."

“Don’t worry about it, Char. It’s your story to tell and I’m here to listen.” Mnhei’sahe interjected with a warm smile, hoping to keep the elder Rihannsu from worrying. She was, in fact, enthralled with the tale and didn’t want Char stressing herself.

"Since I could not defeat the deep roots of corruption I had discovered within Starfleet in my own time through confrontation, I had decided to leap forward in time, when all of this was history, in order to see how it would play out. I would gather the database of the Federation and that of the Tal'Shiar, then study this period to discover where I could make a change, or see what role I was predestined to play once it was a matter of history. It was a foolhardy and desperate plan, but I was emboldened by the addition of my own granddaughter, who came along paradoxically to aid us- after all, if we failed, she would never come to be born. So I proceeded with some degree of assurance that we... that I... was destined to succeed."

Listening, Dox had long ago stopped trying to mask her feelings as her face shifted to an expression of concern. She recalled Char’s words from just a few moments earlier. A warning of sorts, to not believe yourself undefeatable and feared it may have been a prophetic statement as the story continued to unfold.

"I dropped off most of the crew on Cygnus 4, under the pretense that they were on maneuvers setting up temporary shelters as if in a planetary emergency. I insured they had sufficient supplies for at least six months, and full communications arrays. I brought only a skeleton crew forward with me, under the assumption that I was endangering fewer lives, thus my crime was somehow lesser in my mind. Lacking orders to do so, I set the controls for the coronosphere of the M-class star Cygnus, and I hurtled the Victory one hundred years forward in time. far enough ahead that the historical details would be declassified long ago and the information I sought would be nothing anyone would consider valuable."

“One hundred years... “ Mnhei’sahe did the math in her head with a thoughtful expression. “That would put it only, nine years from now.” She didn’t add her own concerns, knowing full well the danger of time travel, but she feared what was coming next in the story.

At that, Charybdis blinked rapidly a few time, then crooked one of those sharply angled eyebrows. "You mean... nine years ago? I'm old and forgetful, but I haven't forgotten basic mathematics, have I? We departed 2287, arrived 2387? This is the year 2396, isn't it? November second, stardate 74836.10914? Is that not the date? Stupid old woman, you've screwed up the dates, you're going to get it wrong..." The chubby old woman began hauling herself up from the chair, clearly agitated and distressed.

Getting up, Mnhei'sahe rounded the table behind Char, immediately concerned for the woman's well being. "No, you didn't get anything wrong, Char. It's okay."

Coming around, the red-headed young pilot reached out and took Char's distressed hand and tilted her head to make eye contact. More than ever she wished she had been a better student of Sonak's so she might know how to connect mentally to help calm the elder Rihannsu. She wished she could share a piece of her own energy here and now as she did with Sonak's help with her grandmother. But in the moment, all she had were her words and a soft tone, though in her own nervousness Dox slipped momentarily to her native tongue.

"Vaed'rae… Aeuthn qiu oaii mnek'nra." Wincing her face slightly, Dox corrected herself and switched back to Federation standard. "Listen… all is well. Okay, you didn't make any mistakes. You were telling me about the Victory. You came one hundred years to your future. To 2387. Right?"

"Yes... yes... today is November 2nd, stardate 74836.1091? It is, isn't it? I can't have gotten that wrong, it's too important..." Gripping her fingers alongside the palm of her hand as if grasping something, a holographic PaDD sprung into view over her hands. Which was most decidedly not modern technology, as Starfleet had no such device that Dox knew of. At least, not yet. Tapping at it with her left hand, bringing up the stardate, the old woman sagged, visibly relieved. "I'm sorry... forgive an old woman her foolishness. When you said the date was... I thought..."

Standing next to Char, Mnhei’sahe raised an eyebrow. While she was becoming extremely concerned for the elder Rihanna woman, she was also now more curious than ever about what exactly was going on. It was becoming clear to the young Lieutenant that there was more at stake here for the Admiral than just telling a story.

The holographic PaDD, technology unknown in this day and age, disappeared as Admiral MacGregor opened her right hand once more, and the aged woman gripped the chair back for support, her cheeks a bit minty flush and out of breath. "I'm all right... it's just... I thought I had the date wrong, that's all," she explained, clearly working on calming herself from her moment of panic.

“Here… you sit down and relax, please. Let me take care of it, Char.” Mnhei’sahe said, gently helping the aged Admiral to her seat once again, not worrying about the technology she suspected might have been the result of Char’s own granddaughter being from the future. After all, that wasn’t a fanciful idea to Dox, who worked with Ila Dedjoy, a woman in an android body that only existed because of technology from the future.

Still, the younger woman was delicate and controlled with her actions, wanting to help as much as was possible as it seemed as if Charybdis was virtually deteriorating before her eyes. They had been talking for a while now, and perhaps it was the strain of it all, but her faculties seemed to be waning as it got later in the day. Mnehi’sahe took the tea set and placed it on the counter near the sink to address later and got two, fresh new cups from the replicator, ordered to the same decaffeinated specs as earlier.

Hoping that her new friend was calming down enough to continue, Mnhei’sahe set the cups down and walked back around to take her seat and thought about what Char had said about the date. As she did, she thought about her own experiences with time travel both personally and through the bizarre messages that Kodria had left for members of the crew. Messages that the young Android had recorded, apparently, just before being put in stasis designed to be activated by the Hera’s computers at key moments to act as warnings.

Though it seemed that so far all the messages had been left for either Rita or herself. But each message was triggered by specific things happening in time and there was a similar sense of urgency to Char in the here and now. “There’s nothing to forgive. Just… why is the exact date so important, Char? What happened? What’s supposed to happen?”

That earned her a wry and knowing smile, and the first actual stonewall she'd encountered with the woman. "Time... we always think we have more than enough, 'all the time in the world' is the phrase here on Earth. Yet that isn't so... time is both finite and it is finite for us as well. An old acquaintance will be visiting tonight, so it's important to me that I have things in order before they arrive. That's all... I'll be fine, I promise."

It was an evasion, a dodge of the question, and both women knew it. Charybdis was a good liar, as old Rihannsu women tended to be, but Mnhei'sahe had an ear for it after a month in Tal'Shiar captivity and a lifetime with her mother. The old woman was expecting someone, but she would not be 'fine'. At least not in the traditional sense, and Mnhei’sahe knew it. As she settled back down, visibly calming and her panic subsiding, the young lieutenant had to decide if she would press the matter or prompt the rest of the rambling tale the old woman was still trying to impart.

But, dipping her head for a moment, Mnhei’sahe knew not to push there. Thinking silently for that moment over everything Char had been saying, she had a very good idea exactly who the elder Rihannsu’s ‘acquaintance’ very likely was. And if she was right, it was a mutual acquaintance. At the idea, she thought of her father for a moment and a tear slipped out down her cheek. But she wiped it quickly away, lifted her head again with a somewhat forced smile and nodded, letting her friend continue.

"Yes... the future... which is now the past, which is no more," the Romulan renegade recalled enigmatically. "So... Liviana and her wife Lexington had come back in time to help me with my scheme, because she knew if I failed she would never come to be. Plus Liviana had all sorts of tricks she had picked up through her travels in time, so she was an able and capable adventurer, if a bit reckless and wild. We entered the future in the midst of a battle, between the USS Sunfire, a Defiant-class vessel captained by a Trill of Liviana's acquaintance, and the Cardassians."

"We helped turn the tide, but at considerable cost. As advanced as the Victory was, she was still a hundred years out of date. We didn't let on, but we took quite a pounding. We stayed long enough for Liv and Rain to 'transfer' back to the Sunfire, download her historical library, and sneak back to the Victory."



To Be Continued...

"Now that I had the Starfleet records, all I needed were the Tal'Shiar's records. Which proved to be a far more challenging task, as Victory needed repairs and parts, and there were not exactly starbase repairs waiting for us. If we were captured by Starfleet, then much like your friend Paris, they would not allow us to return back to our own time. Starfleet hadn't created the temporal Prime Directive as yet, but they were definitely on their way there, and that was a rule they were rather adamant about. I wouldn't have it- to never to see my family again, and to fail in my mission was unacceptable. So instead, I did the unthinkable."

"We snuck back to Earth, under cover of cloak, and stole the parts we needed from the Enterprise Museum."

As Char spoke, dropping a fairly big-deal detail, there was a quiet moment between the two women, and in that moment, in spite of the undercurrent of tension that Mnhei’sahe was holding onto as the revelation had a slightly unexpected reaction.

“Ha!!” The almost perpetually anxious young pilot let out a throaty, deep laugh and her somber face broke into a smile. The raw audacity and insanity of Char’s story was enough to crack Dox’s nervousness as she let out a small string of chuckles for a few seconds before eventually containing herself. “Usae… Sorry, I’m sorry. That’s just…”

As Mnhei’sahe replied, she had a smile on her face as she nodded. “Of course. I know I shouldn’t laugh… It’s serious, I know. I just… somehow… that’s the kind of thing that almost has to happen. No matter how well we plan these things, there’s always something that… requires something that just seems impossible on the face of it that you have to do anyway.”

A tear ran down her cheek as she slowly shook her head. “Or maybe I just needed that, in spite of myself. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to… I shouldn’t have done that.”

"Laughed at us stealing parts from the second starship they named Enterprise for Jim Kirk to gallivant about space?" Charybdis asked with a twinkle in her eye. "Laugh, woman. It IS funny, because you're right- it IS always something in plans like that which go wrong, that makes you scramble for options, that makes you pull off audacious improvisations, and those often don't work so well. One minute I'm burglarizing an ex-lover's starship... oh yes I did, only once, and it was so-so, truth be told," Charybdis admitted with no shame.

Smirking slightly at that last bit, Dox took a sip of tea with a knowing expression as she thought to herself, I’ll have to tell Rita she probably made the right call shooting Kirk down at the academy.

"The next minute I'm the star attraction at what people think is a publicity stunt, and trying to outwit a computer mind far more advanced than my own, to convince him that the only way to save the ship is to get her back in time.”



“As it turns out, slingshot maneuver by tractor beam is not nearly as exact as one might hope, and we overshot our mark by a wide margin. I wanted to go back a week earlier- I could avoid the other Victory easily and it would put us ahead of schedule. Instead... well... let's just say that a chroniton charged hull and too many trips around the sun produced a string of encounters that were fortunately wiped away by the machinations of one of those ancient beings with more power and pride than brains... or self-control."



Raising her eyebrows at that, Dox sighed a bit as she replied, “I’ve… met more than my share of those kinds of beings. For things that are still talked about in the academy like abstract concepts, sometimes it feels like they’re everywhere. Or maybe what my grandmother said about names has merit.”

Taking another sip of her tea, Dox thought about what she was saying, “That old Rihannsu belief that what you name something partly dictates that thing’s destiny. Our ship’s named after an ancient Earth Goddess. Now that Goddess actually lives on the ship and we’ve had more encounters with beings that call themselves gods than any ten other starships.” As she thought, she let out a chuckle. “I have lunch with one every week and one of my shipmates is engaged to another... and apparently I’m going to have to wear something extremely bizarre to be in the bridal party.”

"That does top anything I did... while I had a few cosmic beings pop up from time to time, I never had one living aboard the ship. The crew had become gods in one reality I briefly visited because of the Bulikaya Particle, but that was one of those Great Barrier things, and one of the reasons it's not recommended starships try penetrating it," Char shook her head. "As for naming, that was definitely something I considered... I was named for the original 'rock and a hard place', and that was where I spent my career, on a cosmic stage. But we did eventually manage to arrive at ch'Rihan, and I enacted my great plan. The real reason I had left most of the crew behind. Because you can fool some of the people some of the time, but you can't use cloaking technology to sneak up on Homeworld."

"I got there by surrendering, and turning myself over. As a wayward asset of the Tal'Shiar, in a starship a hundred years out of date, as a traitor to the Star Empire. You can imagine how that went," the old starship captain said casually, knowing full well that Dox had a very good idea just exactly what such a surrender would entail, and what a personal cost it would take.

Across the table, the young woman shuddered slightly at the thought as the old woman spun her tale. "I bargained for the lives of my crew to be held on the ship until they were through 'debriefing' me, to keep them alive and on the ship. The warp cores were gutted from her and they kept her as an amusement. They connected Victory to generators to maintain life support and the food processors, as Liviana maneuvered the occupying troops to keep the crew alive and intact while they turned me over to a few curious scientists."

"It was there that I met Dr. Zaheel, who realized I had an alien symbiote possessed considerable psionic strength living in my sinuses. He forcibly removed the Kolari windserpent from me, and dissected Sning. That trauma cost me my psionic might, which had grown considerably by that point, and left me psychically deadened. All that was left was the memory of torment the original Tal'Shiar scientists had installed within me to make me dangerous to meld with, in a direct link. Otherwise, I showed as a null zone, and I still do to this day." The old woman tried to speak casually of having a part of her mind and soul ripped away and her third eye burnt out of her mind But her hands still shook as she moved them under the table to hold one another, distrusting them on the table before her.

But she wasn’t fooling Dox. The young lieutenant remembered all too well how it felt to have the doors of her own mind forcibly shut by the Titan Gaia because of how it disconnected her from her telepathic bond with Mona. It took months of intense training to re-establish that bond, but having gone from sharing each other's deepest thoughts and emotions to nothing was a horrible feeling. Or lack of feeling. The red-headed Rihannsu wanted to reach over to try and comfort her friend, but also didn’t want to make what she was feeling any worse.

"But… my gamble paid off, and I was able to manipulate my guards and effect my escape with the data I had come so far and sacrificed so much for," the retired Admiral set the stage for her tale's climax. "I gleaned the history of Tal'Shiar movements for thirty years- not a full database as I'd accomplished with the Federation, but enough to foil their current plot and set them back decades, while making me aware of all the other petty little plots they would be trying for the next few decades. All I had to do was escape the planet then escape the system, in a starship with no power, save my crew in the process and make it back to a past that was a distant and seemingly unreachable land to me, adrift as I had become in the seas of time."

Looking across at the woman and her wall of memories, Dox thought of her family in the manor across the lawn. She also thought about the implications of everything else. Of the plots the Tal’Shiar were planning only nine years ago that would likely be still in play possibly in this timeline. Of this Dr. Zaheel, who likely still existed on ch’Rihan now. But she pushed aside the smaller questions as she replied, “Not exactly an easy proposition. But you’re here, now. How did you do it?”

The question wasn’t entirely academic. It had only been a couple of weeks since Dox stood on ch’Rihan, and her mind had raced with fear over what she would have done had the Captain and Rita not come to rescue her. So, insight into how someone else escaped ch’Rihan was extremely useful information to the young officer that knew all too well that the threat of being re-captured was an ever-present one. While Dox's grandmother had given Dox her blessing to leave on the promise that she would one day return of her own free will to try and help her people, Riov Rendal still thought of Dox as her apprentice and wanted the young Rihannsu noble back.

"When I was still telepathic I planted post-hypnotic commands in the minds of the guards and even my doctor, to move small pieces of the puzzle that was my escape plan about so that I could make good my departure on my own terms. I was also aided by Zaheel's nurse T'lara, who was a rebel against the regime. And of course, I had Liviana waiting for my signal, on a starship they believed was nothing but a hunk of outdated Federation junk with no power." The old woman drew herself up a bit, swelling with pride.

"What they didn't realize was that Victory packed a cloak, which of course had its own power supply- a singularity drive, of course. Which we had turned to shielding itself, with false walls in Engineering as the device cloaked itself and its power outputs. When I gave the signal, Liviana beamed me up, we dealt with the guards who had grown lax thinking that they guarded helpless primitives, and we completed the linkages to get Victory back online, to give her the chance to run to Eisn. But in my pride, I had one more stop to make." The old woman smiled wryly at the memory, and she chuckled.

"I was so headstrong and foolish, perhaps because I knew that the Hobus supernova was coming for them. My granddaughter had made me aware of the fact, of the day and time, even, to the precise second. Thus I felt I had become the harbinger of the end of ch'Rihan, and I was determined to be heard," Charybdis' voice gained strength as she rallied at the memory. “My granddaughter, the rebel of space and time, had swum the length and breadth of the ages, and there was very little she didn't know if she cared to. After all, what is a secret today is history in a hundred years' time. So the shield harmonics of the Senate were child's play to beam through if you knew their frequencies... which, of course, she did."

"I beamed into the Senate, and I'll spare you my speech. Suffice to say, I shamed them. I shamed them for what they had done in my era, what they had done to me and my family. But most of all I shamed them for letting petty, venal little people like Sela and Rikal turn the great Star Empire of noble and proud Rihannsu into the petty, backstabbing liars and cheats of the galaxy. I shamed them and warned them that Al'thindor came for them, his fiery wings already spread, prepared to devour Homeworld in his fiery embrace, washing clean our home, our world, our culture."

Staring off as she recalled the moment, Chary refocused on Dox once more. "I told them that it was likely better this way, and perhaps we would rise anew once more from the ashes, to be reborn as a better society than the decadent, selfish cowards we had become."

Listening, Dox was transfixed. The story had become a virtual mirror for the events that lead to Char’s great aunt becoming Empress over a century ago. She had heard whispered tales of Ael t’Rllaillieu as a child and learned so much more of the noble woman’s reign under her grandmother’s aegis. But to sit opposite a woman that was so like those tales filled the young Rihannsu with hope. Her people could be so much better… and there sat the proof, telling her tales. As Dox hung spellbound, Charybdis continued.

"It took my leave as the Centurions closed in, and we made our getaway. My sister, Freddie Carlow, born of my mother's tryst with the ancient astronaut from my crew, swore a blood oath to capture me, but my mother and the crew of the Feathers of Al'thindor aided our escape... at the cost of their lives. She... believed in me, in my mission... enough to sacrifice her own life. Though she died... well." The tears filled the old woman's eyes at the memory of her mother's sacrifice, to die at the hands of her own daughter in combat amongst the stars with her other daughter. Steeling herself, Charybdis raised her chin defiantly once more and nodded.



Across the table, Dox’s eyes went wide with horror at the turn of the tale. But she continued to listen, not wanting to miss a word.

"We slingshotted around Eisn, with Carlow in pursuit. But she didn't know the calculations, had not harmonized her shields, and she didn't have McCray at tactical manipulating the shield shape and harmonics as only a seasoned chrononaut and mistress of helioseismology could... one who had performed such feats hundreds of times. My sister claimed my mother and her crew's lives, but she burnt to ash trying to kill me as well... the feathers of Al'thindor indeed, eh?"

There was no mirth in the joke she tried to make, nor did it raise spirits in the room.

"Back in our own time we limped back to Federation space, the journey taking months. While Liviana McCray's calculations had held, we had not enough power for precision, or to even try again. We arrived five years after we'd left... just as Praxis exploded and the Khitomer summit was coming to pass." Reliving it in her mind, it was clear this was something which pained the old woman- her failure after having endured so much in her efforts to save the Federation. "Time travel is so often an imprecise art, after all. But Siivas had always told me that the Firebird would be when and where she was needed. That was the Deltans name for me- they called me the Firebird, because of the destiny they believed the universe held for me, and for our people."

"By the time we reached Earth, I was prepared for the battle. I routed the Puppeteer on Earth, and proved that Admiral Cartwright had been the victim of a Romulan plot, controlled by them for years. The few of my people who remained were... no." The old woman in the faded blue dress shook her head sadly.

"They chose death over failure, and I... killed them," Charybdis admitted. "I killed them all, my own people, to save Starfleet and the Federation. I dared to imagine that I might someday find a way back into the good graces of my people, but... there is no coming back from some betrayals. Thus I was an exile, forever, from Homeworld, even as I planned and worked toward finding a way to get as many offworld before the catastrophe that was destined to come about." At that, the old woman's face curled in a wry smile. "But I had my life here on Earth, with my Earthman husband and his boisterous clan, Qurka Qurg caring for my children who had grown so much in my absence. I had hope, that if I worked hard enough from this side of the Neutral Zone that perhaps I could make things better for our people in the future."

Watching, Dox’s eyes were swelled with tears that she managed to keep contained as she listened to each pained word, hanging on them and doing her best to absorb it all. “But… there was no supernova. No catastrophe. Ch’Rihan is still there, and it still needs…

“...you...”

Then the young Rihannsu thought of Char’s words some more as a phrase range through her head as her words froze in her throat, ‘If I worked hard enough from this side of the Neutral Zone that perhaps I could make things better for our people in the future.’ But in her heart, Dox knew what Char's cryptic statements from earlier meant, and that there were very few conclusions one could make, knowing that.

Everything about Char’s stories came back to the idea that these patterns were repeating. The patterns of her amazing life were happening in their own, unique ways, in Dox’s own. The parallels kept cropping up in ways that bordered on the uncanny as Dox’s mind raced over everything she had been told. After the story hung in the air between the two for a time, the Rihannsu Starfleet Lieutenant raised her head again, and her eyes met those of the woman across from her. Violet eyes that shone with all the steely resolve of the starship captain in the stories she had been telling. Eyes that looked at Mnhei'sahe Dox with purpose.

“Char… I’m not just here to learn that I’m not alone, am I?” Dox asked in a serious tone, her face quite set and purposeful.

The smile that spread across the old woman's face was a joyous one, and for a moment Dox could see that beautiful, vivacious creature of ambition, talent, and braggadocio she had once been. "No. Not entirely. And I didn't have to tell you that... a very good sign."

Rising stiffly and slowly from the chair, the aged Rihannsu levered herself up using the table, then waved for the young pilot to accompany her. "I've something for you. Something a bit unbelievable and of dubious value, but... well, I should explain."

Shuffling across the living room covered in mementos of a career spent amongst the stars, most of them dusty and cobwebbed, the old woman made her way into her simple bedchamber. A twin bed with a white woolen blanket was in the center of the room, with a chest of drawers across from the foot of the bed. Above it on the wall facing the bed was a holo of Char in her youth, standing beside a strapping, bearded dark-haired man with silvered sidewalls, with an easy grin on his face.

Standing beside them were a studious-looking young vulcanoid boy of perhaps six or seven, and a girl with a wide and bright smile, perhaps close to the same age. It was clear that it was placed there so that Char would see it as she drifted off to sleep, and again when she woke- her family, together and happy.

Making her way to the bed, Char knelt, slowly and carefully, until she could grasp the case she kept beneath the bed. Tugging at it, she waved off Dox's silent offer of help, to slide the unremarkable rectangular metallic case out from under the bed. Using the bed to steady herself, Charybdis rose back to stand on her feet again, and with a grunt, she got the case onto the bed. As she unsnapped the latches, she explained.

"In the history that I knew, ch'Rihan was to be destroyed, and our people scattered to the stars. Everything on Homeworld that day would be reduced to ash by the fury of Al'thindor, and I knew it. So I thought that I would return this to them, to give our people hope... a symbol to rally around, were I to live long enough." Unsnapping the last latch, she stared at the case.

"Liviana warned me that time is neither linear nor is it predictable, and events- even events as significant as that- are subject to change without notice. My home is chronally shielded, you see," Charybdis admitted with a sly old woman's smirk. "So I remember the death of 'Romulus' and 'Remus', and the chaos that followed it for our people as the Star Empire fractured into warlords and rebellious outposts. I was waiting for someone to rise who might light the way.”

“I was still waiting when it all changed, and our world was not destroyed. Time changed course, and we were none the poorer for it. Ch'Rihan still turns, and Eisn still shines upon her. But that just means that it's business as usual for the Tal'Shiar, and our people still lack mnhei'sahe," Charybdis shook her head, then opened the case.

"This is a relic of never was, Mnhei'sahe Dox. When I spoke those words in the Senate, and when I took my leave, I knew nothing of that place would survive. So I sought to cheat fate, and save a piece of our honor for the future, as my great aunt had done before me." Reaching into the case, the old woman reverently picked up the contents, placing it flat on her palms then holding it out reverently for the young pilot to see.

A sword.

A sword of lightly curved metal in a black, maithe wood sheath with a Sardonyx-wood inlay and a rough, black kahs-hir steel hilt crafted to accommodate both hands. A sword whose legendary craftsmanship was clear, even to Dox, who was no expert.

A sword that looked somehow very familiar from those lessons her grandmother had taught her, and near-identical to the replica blade that Riov Renal wore on her hip.

"Forged by the Vulcan swordsmith S'harien in the ways of the old Vulcan smiths before the time of the sundering, it was the only one of the three that S'task still possessed when we arrived on Homeworld. My great aunt stole it, to show the cowards of my day that they lacked honor, and to eventually return it to the Empty Chair. I thought..." the old woman shook her head.

"I thought I was saving it for our people. To reunite them, someday... stolen from the future and hidden in the past, to one day be returned to our people to light their darkest hour. But that day never was, and now, never will be. This is not the Sword of S'task... it is just a mockery of my failure, of my hubris, and of a timeline that is simply fiction, now." Tears ran freely down the old woman's face as she looked from the sword to the young woman with whom she had shared her life's tale.

"I want you to have it... as a keepsake. It is not the symbol that it should have been, and in the end, all I managed was to reduce it to a copy- a replica, an analogous possibility of the original. But I think you understand what it was supposed to represent, and you... you are the future, Mnhei'sahe Dox." There was a pleading note in the old woman's voice as she stepped forward slightly, the sword across her palms. "My days are done. I am old, and my plan to save our people from themselves... failed. But you... you are only at the beginning of your time, and you still have a chance to make a difference. So... take it." Still weeping, the old woman offered the blade that should not exist, yet did, to the woman before her who had cheated fate.

While Char insisted that the sword was but a temporal copy, Dox’s eyes went wide as she looked at it in the old admiral’s hands.

"This is your time, so please... I beg of you... take the sword- a gift, from one generation to the next. It doesn't obligate you to become the savior of our people, and I don't expect you to lead a rebellion. If I gave it to my granddaughter, it would be just another artifact in her collection, and she already has plenty of trinkets and curiosities," the old captain chuckled.

Hands at her side, clammy and trembling, Dox couldn’t believe what she was being shown. What she was being offered.

"Just go where the universe takes you, do what needs to be done... but I ask that you carry this in your heart. Let this be a reminder to you of what could be, and what might yet be... yet never forget that arrogance may be your downfall, as it was mine. Because all of your plans and schemes may come to naught." Smiling, the wizened old pioneer lifted the sword a bit higher, offering it hopefully to the next generation of young diplomats.

Looking into the pleading, hopeful eyes of the elder Rihannsu Admiral, Mnhei’sahe’s own eyes were shining and wet with tears of her own. Tears of disbelief, and fear, and compassion. Slowly, she reached for the sword. Her hand shook as she did and her mind raced with every reason she could think of as to why this all seemed insane to the young woman.

Despite what Char had said, Mnhei’sahe knew better. This was the sword of S’task. The Honor blade of the Rihannsu Star Empire. A symbol that sat in S’task’s empty chair in the senate for over twenty-three hundred years. And while a temporal duplicate sat there still, that fact didn’t make this sword any less real to the young woman any more than Rita Paris, Sonak or Az’Prel were to her for their own convoluted origins.

Hovering above the rough black handle, Mnhei’sahe’s hand seemed frozen in space and time. She didn’t know how to do what was being asked of her. So many fates had been laid before the young woman in the span of but a couple of months. So many paths chosen for her that she had to choose from. But this was a burden, somehow, far greater than the rest. And the weight of it hit her hard in her side as she felt her heart grow heavy. With weakness in her voice, she stuttered. “Why? Why me? I… I... don't... I don't deserve…”

But even as the weak words fell from her trembling lips, Mnhei'sahe knew she was lying to herself. She knew exactly why she was being offered this weighty boon. It was at the very heart of everything Char had been trying to say with her amazing stories, and as she spoke again, her voice grew just a bit stronger.

"It's... because I'm afraid of it, isn't it? Because I don't want it. I don't want the responsibility or the burden. But you already know that, don't you? You knew when you start talking to me, that I'll take it because it has to be done. Because it's the choice between doing nothing and something. And that's not a choice at all. Go where the universe takes me, do what needs to be done."

There was a sadness in the young pilot's eyes as she brought her hand down over the handle and felt it's cold stone grip. A reservation to a fate she had not sought. A fate she did not believe she deserved, yet knew she had to accept, in spite of herself.

"Because you are a hero, Mnhei'sahe Dox. All the best heroes are hesitant because those who rush in are fools, and those who refuse to answer are cowards, and you are neither. But you weep when your heart is touched... and we are all the sum of our tears. Too little and the ground is not fertile, and nothing can grow there. Too much, the best of us is washed away. This does not destin you to be the savior of the Rihannsu. It will just serve as a reminder to you too, I hope, do as I said. Be noble, be true, but be not too proud, lest it all come to naught." The old starfarer sat down on the edge of the bed, as if a great weight had been lifted from her, and she found herself a bit lightheaded at the sensation. In doing so, her hands dropped away from the sword, leaving the choice to Dox to support the artifact, or to drop it.

Gripping the sheathed blade quickly with both hands, any concerns Char might have of the young woman being too proud were momentarily swept aside as, without another thought of the sword’s importance, Dox simply placed it gently on the end of the bed to move quickly to her elder’s aid. At that moment, it stopped being ‘THE’ sword and just became a sword. And a sword that needed to be set aside for a more important reason, as the nervous pilot leaned over with an anxious expression of concern for her friend. “Char? Are you okay?”

Resting a hand on Char’s own, Mnhei’sahe leaned over and spoke softly though her heart was feeling crushed under the weight of what she knew was coming. “Can… can I get you anything?”

Any answer the elderly adventurer might have expressed was lost, as a bar of white light shone from the base of the doorway, then slid upward to create a rectangular hole in reality- out of which stepped a rather buxom and brazen bronzed bombshell. Copper hair gathered back and away revealed long, tapering, pointy ears not dissimilar to the ones sported by Charybdis. But this was clearly a woman in her prime, who had just stepped out of a doorway in reality. Which promptly slid shut, top to bottom, behind her.

"You can't, no. But I can," she offered, silvery eyes looking Dox over critically; taking in the scene, the sword, and the visitor. Stepping over, she held out her hand, which the old matron took in both her own with a weary smile.

Turning in surprise, Dox's hand immediately went to the hilt of the sword, unsure of what was happening for but a split second, before the pieces began falling into place, as she recognized the woman from Char's stories. The granddaughter she had spoken of- Liviana McCray, the rebel chrononaut.

"It's time, isn't it, Liviana?" Chary asked, and the alien beauty nodded.

"I promised you one more trip, Grandmama. I've never broken a promise to you, have I?" the woman smiled, one of those smiles that could light up a room. But it was clear that was a sadness in her eyes, and that the smile was a bit forced.

Watching, Dox moved her hand away from the sword again and noticed the slightly forced smile along with the woman's somewhat prickly posture towards her. But she was too curious to challenge it in the moment, and let the family speak uninterrupted.

"No... in all of space and time, you've never broken a single promise to me, Livi. Is Rain coming?" the old woman asked, shifting her weight and rising slowly to her feet.

There was only a slight pause, and a downward cast to the eyes of the menace to space and time known as Liviana McCray. "No, Grandmama. Not this trip, she... she couldn't. I'm sorry."

"Then let us bring your Lieutenant Dox, shall we?" Charybdis asked, seemingly ignoring the reaction. "I think she might appreciate it."

Raising an eyebrow, Dox caught the unusual wording Char had used of 'your' and, filing it away, she turned towards the new arrival with a questioning stare.

As the granddaughter of the Rihannsu elder made eye contact with Dox, there was a flash of anger in her eyes, or perhaps resentment- it was hard to tell. But the smile slid into place easily, one that a used shuttle salesman would use, and she shrugged, making the low-cut bodysuit she wore threatened to spill her overabundant bosom out into the universe. But somehow the garment held on, and she returned her gaze back to the progenitor of her line.

"If she'd like to come along on an illegal time travel jaunt using forbidden technology to perform a task that would get her court-martialed... then sure, she's welcome to come along. If that's what you want, Grandmama," Liviana finished, her odd, silvery pale blue eyes seeking those of her grand dam. As for the wizened old woman herself, she turned to Dox, a smile on her lips and a twinkle of mischief in her eye.

"What do you say, Mnhei'sahe? One little expedition together?" She said the words casually, but there was hope in the old woman's nebulous violet eyes, and it was clear she wanted the young pilot to accompany them, wherever they were going.

In the moment Dox couldn't be sure which she was feeling more: relief that this expected visitor wasn't yet Death herself, as she feared. Or concern over already knowing what her reaction was going to be.

As she looked into Char's hopeful eyes, the young pilot who didn't know how to say no if she felt she was needed, thought hard for a moment. She thought of Captain Telvan's words of warning, that she should hope to never have to encounter the DTI- and she realized that she was about to give such a meeting a very real cause to come to pass. She thought of Char’s own misadventures in time. But she also thought that whatever this was, it was likely a big part of why the elder Rihannsu wanted to meet her. Char knew this was going to happen, and so wanted Dox here, today, to go with her. And the need in Char’s eyes emphasized that Dox knew what she had to do. "Why do I suspect that you already know that I'm not going to turn you down, Admiral?"

"Because someone along the way taught you to never resist the call of adventure?" the old woman chuckled, releasing one hand from her granddaughter's and taking Mnhe'sahe's hand in her own. "Don't worry- with a little luck, no one will find out. We'll be unobserved, Liviana?"

"Aye, Gran. I'll keep us slightly out of phase with the local timestream, and we'll just be observers, " Liviana replied, a holographic screen springing into existence in this air before her. Tapping at it with one hand, she ran through a menu or two quicker than Dox could grasp the alien symbols onscreen, although she noticed that it looked like a form of LCARS. In the corner where the registry that tended to be present on ship's display screens, she could make out the reversed word Constellation 7. "The ghosts might notice us, but the locals will not. Little trick from the Time Corps we used to use to observe history without disrupting it..."

‘Ghosts?’ Dox thought to herself as she raised an eyebrow.

At that, a meter wide band of light appeared on the ground before them, which then rose to two meters tall, creating a rectangular hole in space and time, through which Liviana stepped halfway through, helping her aged ancestor to follow her, even as the old woman's hand gripped Dox's with a surprising strength, even if the hand was shaking. Looking into the light of the displacement portal, the old woman's eyes shone with tears and anticipation as she shuffled into it, tugging the next generation of heroine behind her.

Stepping through right behind Char, her hand still in the Elder hero’s own, Mnhei’sahe blinked a moment as the blinding light of the portal disoriented her. But the disorientation passed quickly enough for the pilot, who had begun to become used to being in odd places doing inexplicable things found herself somewhere beyond the norm to be sure.

As they emerged on the other side, they were no longer in Char's small country cottage, but on a stonework bridge, leading to an ancient castle. The lights were bright inside it, and the flickering light of bonfires could be seen from here, as they had arrived just inside the castle entry. Ahead was music and laughter, the sounds of revelry- clearly a party of some sort, as people bustled by and through them, a rather unusual sensation. Pennants hung from the ramparts, snapping in the cold evening breeze. The gates to the castle stood open as did every door. Music was audible the moment that they stepped through. The hillsides were awash with rich coppers and golds as well as deeper purples and greens, there was a fine edge of frost around the dark waters of the loch. The crisp autumn air carried the aroma of wood smoke and cooking food.

"Eilean Donnan, seat of Clan McCray... the party... this was our last night on Earth, before we launched Victory," the old woman's eyes went wide at the realization. Apparently, the destination had been a surprise to her, but clearly not an unwelcome one.



To Be Continued...

"C'mon Gran... what do you say we go visit the ghosts of the pasts?" McCray smiled, gently tugging Char forward as the old woman took in the sights and sounds with amazement... even as her younger self strode boldly through her form, then turned to regard her crew. The young woman was clad in a pale blue handmade woolen sweater that fit rather snugly on her curves and rode comfortably down below her collarbones, and angular loose belt hung casually off her hips. Cute black ankle boots complimented the ensemble, and the full bushy mane of dark hair was fluffed out and wiled, yet stylish. It hid her long pointed ears, but those eyebrows could cut durasteel, and her grin was a salacious one.

Watching, almost frozen, Dox’s mouth hung open a moment to see the woman herself, as she was. As real as the elderly woman standing to her side but every bit the firebird of the stories Dox had listened so intently to.

“Victory, let’s take the castle, double-time!” the comely captain called out, and the crew moved to comply, hustling up to and across the bridge at a healthy clip. There was the diminutive and fair Fiona McCray, clad in a sweater was a bit heavier out of deference to the cool weather they would be going into, and the colors were earthy browns and leaf green rather than Star Fleet red. The McCray plaid of her heavy woolen skirt made a nice accent to the look. Bright emerald eyes darted about like an excited child, even as she shared a laugh with the silvery Caitian, tall and slender, who strode sinuously beside her, Clad in a black robe with a cloak and hood, her golden eyes reflected the lights of the castle, and a small, prim smile was set on her face as she finished whispering something that tickled her diminutive companion as her bare cat feet padded along the stone bridge.

Behind them, sullenly stalking along as if resentful for having been dragged out to a party, was a woman in the Maroon Starfleet uniform of the day, who wore her hair cropped short, which showed quite clearly the Trill spots she bore on her face and neck.

Behind her strode an extremely tall and rather spectacularly dressed Klingon woman, with sharply pointed ears clad in some sort of ceremonial armor, all metal and leather and chainmail with a metal tartan across her shoulders, fully armed. But she wore elegant and flattering makeup, and she moved more like a dancer than a warrior. Behind her came two hooded figures- one whose skin was a deep verdant shade with coal-black hair and eyes, while beside him was a slender bald man with bright red eyebrows, bearing a fine latinum chain about his brow which held suspended a bright teardrop ruby on his forehead. Beside them, two rolling balls of tentacles and eyestalks bounced along, the Sulamid's coloration displaying varying shades of cobalt and periwinkle while strobing reds and golds of their own as they made their way.

They were Char’s crew, exactly as she had described them to Dox. All here and alive wherever and whenever Liviana had taken them. And even though the mistress of time and space had said they would be like ghosts, Dox still held back her breaths a bit and tried not to say anything for fear of being heard or seen.

All of them passed without incident, save the pale-skinned bald humanoid, who raised an eyebrow as he looked at each of them quizzically. But he continued moving on, even as Dox took a step back and quieted herself even more. That must be the Deltan… the anxious Rihannsu pilot thought to herself, The one who helped Char train her mind. He… he SAW us. He knows we’re here! Imirrhlhhse!

But the red-haired officer from the future kept those thoughts to herself as the laird of the castle came out to greet the group. Sturdy, broad-chested and grey-haired and bearded, he stood as if to challenge their arrival. When the party of Victory officers reached the stout lord of the keep, they drew up and came to a halt, waiting to be recognized. Char nudged Fiona and murmured out of the side of her mouth, “Is there some sort of traditional greeting or something we’re supposed to enact here?”

Fiona put a hand on Char’s arm.

The man who’d grinned at them the whole time they were crossing the bridge grew somber. He drew himself up and approached Qurka.

“Cead Mile Failte, one hundred thousand welcomes.” he said and extended the large goblet to her. “Drink... and be welcomed in peace to Eilean Donan. Tonight you are of my clan,” the words extended to all of them. He looked up at the Klingon and gave her a grin that was rather like the first officer’s. “Take a drink and pass it tae tha next person, lass...”

Qurka stood up straight and looked down her nose at him, her bearing proud and a touch arrogant but at the same time a smile played at her generous lips. “thlIngan’jIh, vulqangan’jih je DIvI’jih. Qurka pong’wij Qurg, chahowwij HoH Jortqa, waj’mekragh qaleghneS,” she intoned in a low-pitched sonorously almost sung language similar to the canticle speaking of Mongolian.

Andurean whispered the translation as she spoke so they would understand, though the observing Dox knew the language well, “I am Klingon, I am Vulcan, I am Federation. I am Qurka, daughter of Qurg and second heir to House Jort. I recognize/greet you First Lord of McCray.”

“McCray?” Dox whispered, looking briefly over at Liviana then back to the scene as it unfolded before them.

Taking the goblet from her host, in true Klingon fashion, Qurka tilted the entire thing back and chugged it and didn’t give back the goblet until it had been drained and she had wiped the excess from her lips with the back of a metal-studded leather gauntlet. Then she blinked, “What IS that?” She made smacking with her lips and licked them delicately.

The McCray’s bushy eyebrows went up slightly and his grin broadened then became a hearty laugh. “Well then...Qurka, daughter of Qurg...Coom in and be welcomed! THAT, me fine beauty, is uisge beatha... tha water oov life, and is fruim a fresh tapped oaken barrel that was put away o'er a century ago. There’s plenty muir if ye’d like a bottle tae take back wi’ ye” He refilled the cup for the next guest.

Fiona chuckled and whispered to Andurean “ Uh oh...Qurka’s made a conquest. Da likes her.”

“Only one keg?” Qurka asked, looking a bit sadly at the goblet.

“It’s a fair sized Keg” William McCray said with a grin.

On the bridge beside them, the old woman's eyes shone with tears at the sight of her old shipmates, of the great lord she had once known, and a night she treasured. At her granddaughter's urging, they followed the group into the castle, to see the revelry of all of the local clans having come together in celebration. Then her breath hitched as she caught sight of a dark-haired and bearded barrel-chested bear of a man, clad in an off-white sweater and a kilt of black and red tartan. He was laughing at something and clapped the handsome sandy blonde-haired fellow beside him on the shoulder, then took a drink. As he did so, his eyes grew wide as he noticed the newcomers to the party, and his eye tracked the voluptuous dark-haired beauty leading the way.

"Raine..." the old woman murmured, as her face screwed up in tears to behold her long-dead husband, on the night they had met.

Immediately, Mnhei’sahe recognized the man from the Holo in Char’s bedroom in their present and understood where they were. As the elder Char had just spoken again, Dox pushed past her fears and whispered to her time-traveling companions. “This is the night you met him, isn’t it?”

As she spoke, Dox almost instinctively put her hand on Char’s shoulder and smiled. Thanks to the richness of Char’s tales, the young Rihannsu felt as if she knew these people, at least in passing, and the emotion of the moment was not lost on her.

"Yes... Bonnie McCray will introduce us, and he'll ask me to dance. He'll swing me round as we dance, and I'll swing him round as well. My children were conceived this night, in a hayloft nearby, where Raine keeps his livestock," Charybdis whispered back. "This night... this is one of the happiest nights of my life. Seeing all of them again..."

Which was when the Deltan doctor stepped out of the shadows, looking at each of them in turn.

Tsk... you aren't supposed to be here at all, you aren't supposed be back here, and you... well, there is just so much you aren't supposed to be doing, young lady they heard as an odd echo in their minds. It was telepathy, but faint and distant and out of synch with the locale.

Immediately, Dox felt the presence in her mind as the voice resonated and she had to fight the momentary urge to try and push the other mind out of her own. She wanted to throw up her mental defenses the instant she had felt that other mind, and quelled a rush of panic as she worked to calm her mind. In that moment, Dox took a long breath and focused past her own deep fear of telepathy and made the conscious, if difficult, decision to trust in Char’s own trust in the man.

The silvery eyes of McCray grew wide as she blanketed the area with scanning waves, while the bald Deltan shook his head. Relax. I'm not going to give you away, and no one else can perceive you. I can, but only because of my link to Chary.. Moving in on the old woman, he closed his eyes, concentrating, then opened them again, his face a mask of compassion. Oh Chary... always spoilers with you. I'm sorry about your destiny... but the needs of the many do outweigh the needs of the few eh? The smile that spread across his face was a kind and compassionate one, as the old woman reached out to touch his face, though her fingers were immaterial to him.

"I've missed you so much, Eshuur. It's so... it's so good to see you again after so, so long," the old woman wept as she spoke, her voice choked with sadness. "I still had so much to learn... I think of you so often."

Blue eyes alight with mischief, the Deltan doctor wiggled his eyebrows. You remember the Source. You know what lies beyond the veil, and what awaits you at the end of this journey, Firebird. You know you will see me again soon, so shed no tears. I taught you better than that, didn't I?

"Yes, Siivas... you did," the old adventurer nodded, smiling through her tears.

Ah... passing the mantle to the next generation I see, since this one is determined to be her own brand of trouble, Siivas nodded to Dox, with a quick nod and a wink to McCray. Staring through Dox, he contemplated her for a moment, saying nothing. Then he turned to Charybdis once more, and his telepathic voice was gentle and kind. The night is cold, and your warm bed awaits you, child. You have dwelled amongst ghosts for too long, now... return to where you belong, and prepare for your next journey. You are no longer the Warbird, nor the Captain, nor the Inventor. It's time to embrace Al'thindor, Chary. You will see me again soon, aye?

"Yes... soon," Charybdis agreed, as Andurean stepped silently out of the shadows, taking in the scene with some curiosity.

"To whom do you address, Ralm?" he asked his partner and lover, with a quizzically upraised eyebrow.

"Just some ghosts who are passing through, revisiting old haunts, my love," Siivas replied dismissively. "Let's go raise a toast to them, and dance like it's our last night on Earth, eh t'chuk?"

With a nod of acquiescence, Anduran led the way, and the psychic physician winked at them mischievously before turning to move and rejoin the party.

"It is... for them, it IS their last night on Earth, because they will never return here again, to this place, to this world. He knew..." Charybdis realized. "All those years ago, he knew what fate would befall him... yet he stayed the course. No wonder he was so quick to save the Victory..." Charybdis realized, then she leaned heavily against the wall. Immediately, a doorway of light slid open from the ground up as Liviana opened a timegate.

"Come on, Grandmama... let's get you home now, okay?" McCray said softly, wrapping her arm beneath the old woman to support her, and making stern silent eye contact with Dox to do the same.

Without hesitation, Dox acquiesced and put an arm around the elder Rihannsu to help, disregarding Liviana’s virtual glare to glance back to the telepathic Deltan walking away with his love. Keeping Char’s secrets to protect not his future, but her own. In those moments when she chose to leave her mind open to his communication, she imagined she could feel him through that link. She could feel his immense loyalty and compassion, and the love he felt for his pupil, and she smiled at him as the three women all stepped back through the portal, a tear rolling down her cheek.

As the initial glare began to fade, Dox held a snug but supportive grip with one arm under Char’s and her other hand over the elder Rihannsu’s hand. Reality reforming around the periphery of her vision, she wasn’t immediately sure where Liviana was taking then now, hoping that it was where they had left from originally. As they stepped through, they were back in the bedroom of the old woman, where Liviana turned her to sit her down on the bed.

"Let's get these boots off and get you into bed, Gran," the casual time traveler said, kneeling to remove the thick wool-lined flat-soled boots the old woman was wearing, as Dox supported her. Tears still flowed freely, and when her boots were off, Liviana removed the apron and together, the two of them got the old woman under the covers and settled into bed, fully dressed. Kissing her forehead, tears filled those silvery eyes as Liviana stroked the gray hair of her heroic ancestor.

"We'll be right outside if you need anything, okay Grandmama? I love you," she whispered, as the elderly Rihannsu nodded, settling in. The dirty apron in one hand, Liviana McCray grabbed the Honor Blade with the other and walked into the living room, that shrine to memories of a life gone by, leaving Dox to say her piece.

Watching Liviana step out of the room, Mnhei’sahe took a breath. She had only known the woman for a day. When she arrived that morning, the young pilot expected yet another interrogation, and while she suspected she might still get one from the time traveler in the living room, she didn’t care. Instead, she wiped her own eyes and sat on the side of the bed, putting her hand on Charybdis’, which was up over the edge of the covers. She knew what was coming, knew WHO was likely coming, better than most. And sitting there, Dox didn't know if it was her own overwhelmed emotions, but she thought in that moment that she could almost feel something like a presence. Regardless, in her heart Dox simply knew that it was time.

“I suppose it’s my turn, now.” Mnhei’sahe said, smiling broadly with tears in her eyes. “Siivas was right, Char. There’s nothing to be afraid of. I know.”

Stroking the elder’s hand softly, Mnhei’sahe’s voice dropped to a whisper. Not to hide her words, but to make them easier to get out through a cracked voice. “It’s like you told me, you’re not alone in this. Know that you’re never alone. That’s what she’s coming for… to make sure that nobody is ever alone to make that last journey. To step through that door and take you home to… to them. To Fiona and… to Raine.”

“I look forward to that, I must admit. I’m… tired. It has been a long life, and I’m… ready, now,” the old woman admitted, coughing.

The tears flowed again as Mnhei’sahe remembered that last glimpse of her own father’s soul, taken from this world. He had been smiling and whole, like the man of her most hidden childhood memories. And she thought of what she hadn’t been able to see of the gift that her friend, Asa Dael, had been given on Bajor. That last conversation with the doctor’s brother, taken as a child by disease from the other side. “They’ve always been with you. You’ve never been alone. And you’re not alone now, Char. You will see them all again and you and they will be whole, without pain. I can promise you that, because I know she’s here… listening even if I can’t see her when she comes, because that time is for you. Cherish it.”

Gripping the hand, Mnhei’sahe nodded and smiled again. “We’ll be in the other room, but I’ll be waiting. So… I guess we all have our secrets, right?” Letting out a chuckle, the young woman, sitting on the edge of the bed leaned in a little with a conspiratorial grin as Char listened with a smile of her own.

“Thank you for humoring an old woman, Mnhei’sahe. I’ve known today was coming for a long time, and I appreciate you hearing me out, and giving me your time. It was kind of you, and I am grateful,” Charybdis smiled, squeezing the young pilot’s hand and patting it reassuringly.

“No humoring required. It was an honor to hear your story, deihu," Dox replied respectfully, using the word for 'elder' before changing her tone with a smile.

"Soooo, I don’t put everything in my reports, contrary to popular opinion,” Dox explained, as the dying woman chuckled knowingly. “After all, some secrets aren’t mine to give, but I don’t think she’ll object to me giving you a few spoilers here. Whatever you see, just remember, she’s a little Japanese girl. Her name is Masato Rei. She’s… about this tall…” And Dox put her hand up next to her own forehead just above her eyebrows. We have lunch once a week on the Hera. She…”

Choking back tears, Dox smiled and continued, “She prefers Chicago deep-dish to New York-style Pizza. She loves Eel roll and always hogs it all when I bring Sushi for dinner. She’s old, but only a little more than half as old as that sword out there. And her horse, Taxes, is a sweetheart. He loves apples and nudges me with his big old snout when I’m upset.”

“Who knew Death would be so personable,” Charybdis snickered, then she sighed. “I suspect she will be a bit different than that for me, because I have expectations, and they won’t be met by a little Japanese girl. But I thank you for the insight all the same… again, it is a kindness you extend, for which I am grateful.”

“This is just another adventure, Char. And she’ll take you to it…” The tears flowed freely and Mnhei’sahe struggled to speak as she slowly stood up. Placing Char’s hands on the bed, she straightened herself up, and adjusted her uniform top, wiping her cheeks. “You will never be alone. I swear that to you on my mnhei’sahe, if you’ll pardon the expression.”

“Neither will you, Mnhei'sahe. The Undiscovered Country… the true final frontier,” Charybdis observed. “Although it isn’t the final adventure, my friend. If there is one thing that I have learned in all my travels, it is that nothing ever ends- it just changes. So don’t weep for me- this is just the next adventure, unfettered by this old and broken mortal shell. I welcome it, as I welcome the visitor who will soon darken my door.”

Then, switching back and forth between languages that both women knew well, Dox’s voice was gravely but strong, “Thlinae arhem… thank you. You have given me a gift and it’s one I will cherish forever. Not the sword, but the gift of knowing the tradition which I follow, and the standard that I uphold. I swear I will honor that gift always, and I endeavor to live up to it, every day.”

“Use it wisely- I know… you will,” the old woman’s voice faltered a bit at that.

Turning to the door, Dox smiled and looked deep into Char’s eyes, “Because I know that I’m not alone. That I’ve never been alone. And I’ll never be alone, because I know you’ll be there.”

“You will carry me as a handprint on your heart, my friend. Because that is what we do for one another in this life…or so I was taught, by a wise woman long gone, who waits for me on the other side,” the old woman’s voice was faint now, as her eyes fluttered closed.

“Good journeys, Scylla Charvanek… Charybdis MacGregor. I’ll see you again.” With that, the young officer nodded, smiled and stepped out of the room to where Liviana McCray was waiting. And as she did, she whispered gently to the presence she couldn't see but could feel all the same, "Take care of her for me, Rei."

As Dox stepped into the living room, McCray closed the bedroom door, to give her grand dam privacy for what was to come, then turned to Dox. Those silvery eyes held an amber glow in one spot of them, as if she had a readout of data running in one corner of her cornea. The expression she wore was one of bitter resentment. Still holding the sword, she strode to the kitchen, speaking as she moved.

“She told you her tale, so you know who she was, and what she did, and what she had planned. But she didn’t tell you the truth, not entirely… partially because she didn’t know the whole story. So let me fill in that blank for you, because I think you need to know.” McCray turned, chin held high, her face a mask of composure.

“That broken down old woman in there… she was still vital and hearty a decade ago. She told she was holding the sword for someone, but that isn’t true,” McCray declared, eyeing the sword in her hand before looking up to meet Dox’s gaze with a ferocious intensity. “Gran was supposed to bear the Honor Blade as a symbol, as a rallying point. She would fight the opposition to reunification, she would overcome the petty warlords and the tendrils of the Tal’Shiar. As the one who stood on both worlds, she would bring the Star Empire into the Federation, where they would become stronger than ever, and bring harmony to the Empire, and to this part of the galaxy. That old before her time woman in there was to be Empress Charvanek, who would unite the shattered remnants of the Star Empire, and lead them into the 25th century, to honor and glory. A new homeworld would be established, while a long life was to be hers, spent redeeming her people to the universe.”

“Instead, she dies in a hovel of a cottage, exiled from her people, never to see her homeworld or her people again. Never to realize the destiny that she fought and sacrificed so much for… because of YOU people.” The tempestuous time traveler snarled the words, her concealed anger now brought fully to the surface. “You mucked with time and prevented Spock from ever intervening, from the course history was laid out on, and created a new timeline. One where Romulus was never destroyed, where the scattered factions would still hold Homeworld, so there would never be any impetus to change. So she dies in there tonight, a useless footnote of history… because of YOU people.”

Tears flowed, angry tears as the passionate woman of indeterminate age relayed her perspective on it all. “So she hands over the Honor Blade to you, so that maybe you might do something with it, or find the one who will, because even with her last… damned… breath, she is STILL trying to do what she can, trying to save her people from themselves, trying to make a difference.”

“So while you and those two selfish cretins from the Kelvin timeline choose to casually change time and fate, just remember- there’s often someone out there whose fate you are changing at the same time, and it might not be for the better, like it is for you. So take it…” McCray thrust the sheathed sword onto Dox’s chest, her anger clear and present. “Let it remind you off the things Gran said… but also let it serve as a reminder that fucking with fate usually screws other people in the process.”

Looking down at the sword in her hands, Dox sniffled back a tear and her face tightened into something of a scowl. But she bit back her initial anger, took a breath and composed herself. Folding her hands, with the sword in them behind her back, she looked back up to meet the eyes of the furious woman before her.

"I never met this woman you spoke of, Miss McCray." Dox's tone wasn't confrontational, but instead was steady and firm. She had spent weeks telling people what they needed to hear just to survive, and she was done with it. "I didn't meet any broken old women in any hovels. I met no failures today. No, today I met a powerful, confident woman whose eyes were filled with boundless hope and endless compassion. I met a woman in the family home she loved, surrounded by the memories which brought her comfort and joy."

Taking a step forward, Dox's voice went up just a notch. Not quite a yell, but a bit more intense. "So you're wrong. I DID meet an Empress. I met a woman I will spend the rest of my life trying to live up to the example she set."

Turning, the upset woman started pacing slightly as her eyes fell on Char's old uniform. The one so much like Rita Paris, a reminder of an age of hope and innocence. "My crew and I, we know EXACTLY what we choose to do means. We know that for every life we might save, we risk another. We know that for every fate we change for the better, we may bring a shadow to another."

Looking back at McCray, the tears flowed again. "You may think you know who I am thanks to the readout you're looking at in your eye, but you do not know me, Liviana McCray. I know the cost of our actions, 'for weal or woe' more than most. You see, there IS a Fate. And every day, every one of us tempt her and thwart her. Like Rita and Sonak did to save this reality from what would have been the collapse of theirs. We make Fate work her ass off keeping up with what we do, and that will likely never change. We have to, because if there's even the chance that we can save a life, then by Al'thindor, that's what we HAVE to do. And if that means I have to write the names out of Death's book one by one for the rest of my life and beyond, then that's a small price to pay."

As Dox spoke, for all her knowledge, Liviana didn't know that the young pilot's last comment wasn't a metaphor.

"Every NIGHT I consider the consequences of my actions in this universe. While I will mourn for those lost, I will BE BETTER because of them. FOR them." Dox was looking up at the slightly taller woman as her eyes narrowed.

"But you know that all too well, don't you? You saw a glorious fate for your grandmother you wanted to make happen. Empress. Savior of the Rihannsu. So you went back and intervened with time and manipulated events. You… changed… fate. And as you just told me what that means, so I KNOW you know." Dox finished, stepping back with a raised eyebrow.

"You're still doing it, right here and now. Fucking with fate. Because, I am assuming, you honor your grandmother’s spirit. Because you still believe in hope. Or did I hear her wrong when she called me 'YOUR Lieutenant Dox'?"

“I have traversed the length and breadth of time. I’m not some nouhha’fdavt casual who just flits about, full of self-righteousness to justify my actions. Yeah, I went on that mission with her. Because it was what had to happen. I played my part in it, because if I didn’t it would have all changed. That was SUPPOSED to happen. It was destiny, predestination- I knew it and played my part, even if she didn’t know the whole of it. I have a perspective you cannot imagine, and yes, she did call you MY Lieutenant Dox. Because she knew we’d have history, you and I. Because we already have, and we will again… just not from YOUR perspective. Not yet. You live a linear, existence; I don’t. I’ve already run into you twice, and we’ve discussed this argument. Just because it hasn’t happened for you yet doesn’t mean this is my first time.”

“So you go right ahead and have your high-handed perspective. Family home? This is the servant’s quarters. The mansion over there was her home, and she was supposed to be… well.” The corners of the time traveler’s lips curled in a humorless smile. “You don’t care so, I won’t bother explaining. I know history, I know the linchpins of time and I know exactly who you are, ‘Dox’. The one who’s speaking from ignorance here is you, not me. But this I’ll tell you for free- fuck with Fate and she’s going to fuck you right back. Maybe ask your friends about that, since clearly I don’t know a f’davt thing.”

“Got any more parting shots you’d like to take? Because the timer’s winding down and she be gone soon…” McCray declared as her chin dimpled, and it was clear she was struggling to continue, her voice unsteady, her hands balled into fists at her side. “While you knew her for an afternoon, I’ve known her my entire life. Knowing I can go visit her again back in the good years doesn’t make it any better, because I still had to say goodbye today. I still have to face that she died here, like this, when she was supposed to have another eighty-two years, and the universe would have known her name and her deeds.”

Tears streaming down her face, the pointy-eared menace of space and time lowered her voice nearly to a whisper as she trembled. “Tell me more about what I don’t know, t’Rul. Tell ME about YOUR sacrifices. Or just take a swing if it’ll make you feel better about it all.”

Looking at the angry woman across from her, Dox hung her head slightly. Liviana clearly did know her. She knew exactly how to hurt her with words, and the young pilot was feeling the sting of them like a fresh wound as the time-traveling woman cut into her with her family name. But she also knew how to control her own pain. She had her own lifetime of hard lessons to fall back upon. And while the time traveler in turmoil spoke a good game of having a non-linear existence, this pain she was clearly feeling was painfully linear for her.

So, Dox turned and set the sword down on the table, then stepped back over to Liviana and took a breath. The woman was clearly in agony, and lashing out at the easiest and most appropriate target, but Dox wasn’t going to take that bait and feed that beast. Instead, she exhaled slowly to look up at the granddaughter of her friend, and spoke in a calm, measured voice.

“No, I don’t want to take a swing. I don’t want to hurt you. If you want to take a shot, go ahead. I won’t stop you. If you want to rage and scream and let out all the pain you’re feeling at me, then I’ll take it.” Mnhei’sahe nodded. “You say you know me. That for you, we’ve met before. So you know I can take it. I’ve taken it before and I’ll take it again. And if it helps you, I’ll do it gladly for her. Because you’re right. I am ignorant of a great many things, while there are things I know that I wish I didn’t. That’s one of the things that makes living this life that, at times, seems chosen FOR me... difficult. That sometimes, the weight of what we know seems like a great weight threatening to crush us.”

“That said, what I can say now is that… I am sorry. I’m sorry for your pain. I’m sorry for what you’ve lost. I can’t take any of it back, and I know that. All I can do is what I said… keep moving forward, trying to be better. Live up to the hope that your Grandmother offered to me.”

“I didn’t say what I said out of arrogance, Liviana. I said it because some days, it’s the only thing I can do to keep going when the weight of it all becomes too much. And I suspect that’s something you know VERY well.”

“So... “ Dox said, tilting her head slightly as she spoke, “You can hit me or tear into me as much as you need to. Or, we can start over. This is linear for me, so I only know you from meeting you today. But I also know you from the stories I was told of an adventurous, fearless woman who risked everything for the grandmother she loved, over and over again. The woman who threatened her own existence, just for her beloved Hu'nanov. That sounds like the kind of woman I’d like to know.”

There was turmoil in the eyes of the chronal corsair, as she considered her options and just how she might react to this. Looking around the small, comfortable home filled with memories of a life that had known more strife than happiness, she knew what her legendary grand dam would have done. There was conflict, but in the end, she stepped in and embraced the smaller woman, and sobbed, tears flowing freely.

“You know it’s coming, you know exactly when it’s going to happen but it… it doesn’t help,” McCray sobbed. “She’s gone, she never fulfilled her destiny and… it’s just so goddamned unfair. Because she was great, and she should have been so… much… more... than this.”

Listening, Mnhei’sahe wrapped her arms around the woman and held her tight, crying right along with her. There were words still unsaid, but for a good, long moment, words would have just gotten in the way of the grief that needed to be expressed.

After a full two minutes, as the tears began to slow ever so slightly, Dox pulled back slightly, then moved her hands to Liviana’s shoulders and looked into her pale silvery eyes, which were in truth an inhuman shade of blue. “I know. If you know me, then you know I know. That knowledge is a tremendous burden, and it doesn’t make this any easier. Sometimes I think it makes the pain worse because you know it’s coming and you can’t stop it. But… in the time we were together here, when she looked at these walls and the things she had collected, and when she spoke of you she was happy. I believe that.”

“She’s still great. She will always be great, and she will always be with us, pushing us to be great for the standard she set, and for ourselves.” Dox leaned in slightly with a smile. “We both can work to honor that, I think. We can move forward and try to make what she dreamed of a reality. Even if we never succeed, if we keep trying and don’t let go of that hope, we will honor her, and she will smile from wherever she is. I know that. I’ll try regardless... but I’d rather do so calling you a friend, Liviana.”

A warning chime sounded then, seemingly from nowhere, and Liviana McCray sighed. “Calling me friend is a dangerous proposition, Dox. Because I spend a lot of time on the run, and there are always factions chasing me in one form or another… well, at this point in my life, at least. But before I go, I want you to have this.” Stepping over to the mantle, she opened a curio cabinet door, and fetched out an ancient carving of a phoenix, carved from a single flamegem the glowed from within with a flickering, pulsating light.

Watching, Dox simply nodded and let her continue. Many of her friendships and relationships came fraught with danger, so that concern was nothing new for the woman pursued by the Tal'Shiar, the Rihannsu Senate and Death herself.

“It’s the Al’thindor that great grandma kept on her mantle in Grandmama’s childhood home. I... may have stolen it. Most of this stuff is going to be sectioned off to relatives, sent to the Starfleet Museum or sold at auction, so I want you to take this. You still follow the old ways, so… she would have wanted you to have it. Along with this.” Fishing in her top, McCray produced a black datacrystal that looked like a Dedjoy crystal. “The information is the data from the Bulikaya particle research, and it CANNOT fall into the wrong hands. But… well, you’re going to… yeah, spoilers. I gotta go.”

"I'll do whatever I can to protect it, Liviana. I promise it." Dox said, clutching the black crystal in her hand and nodding back.

That bar of light appeared at the floor behind McCray and slid upward, creating a doorway in reality that glowed with the purest white light. Stepping into it, McCray paused long enough to say, “For what it’s worth… you made a difference with her today. She could go happy, knowing she’d tried one last ploy, one more madcap plan to save her people. So… thank you,” McCray smirked, a familiar expression, even on her considerably younger face, as she stepped through and the doorway of light collapsed behind her.

"You're welcome." Dox replied softly to the spot where Liviana had been just a moment prior. Looking around the now empty room, Dox stood silently for a long moment before letting out a long breath and taking the sculpture of al'Thindor to her bag. Carefully, she wrapped the beautiful statue using her uniforms to delicately pad and protect it. After placing the wrapped statuary in her bag, she then looked long and hard at the black crystal she had been handed.

While they had talked, Charybdis had mentioned something about Bulikaya particles, but she knew nothing more save her reference to jaunting through dimensions. Tucking it into her own top for safekeeping, she didn't know what it was about, but accepted that it was clearly important, and likely would play a part in her future. So she silently resolved to protect it as asked.

Pausing, she walked along the walls slowly, taking in the pictures and connecting the faces with the stories she had been told. The lifetime of adventure and exploration told in images and mementos that would soon be just another part of Starfleet history. The accomplishments of a woman who had been hidden from that very history, whom Dox would never forget.

Coming to the door to Charybdis's room, Dox stood for a long time that seemed to stretch out ahead of her before she finally opened the door one last time and stepped lightly inside. Silently, she looked across at the sight of Admiral Charybdis MacGregor, who lay with her eyes closed with the faintest of smiles on her still face.

Closing the door behind her, Dox rested a hand on it, whispering faintly in Rihan, "May the wings of Al'thindor carry you to your reward, Char."

Then, Dox took her bag, placed the Honor Sword of the Rihannsu Imperium in the metal case, and closed the small cottage up behind her. She made the required calls to Starfleet and answered the questions they had for another two minutes before finally, all was quiet again on the bank of the loch as night fell silently across the verdant fields of Scotland. The soft November wind was crisp and there was a chill in the air as the young Starfleet pilot who suddenly, in such a small period of time, found herself in the center of so many things she had never imagined possible.

Turning, she took one last look at Charybdis MacGreggor's small cottage, wherein only one short day she had met a heroine, and become a part of something even bigger than everything else in her already complicated life. With the lights all dark and the moon cresting the rolling hills, Mnhei'sahe smiled softly and tapped her badge. And in a shimmer of blue and white lights, she was gone and there was only silence left on the fields of Glenlochy.

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

As the old woman dozed off, she heard the voices in the other room fade. Then flickering light caught her eye and drew her back to wakefulness, and she clearly heard the beating of wings. Opening her eyes, at the foot of the bed, was the great flaming phoenix that had symbolized so much of her life. Al'thindor, the great Firebird of her culture, for whom the Deltans had named her, and whom she had revered her entire life. Tugging at the covers to make to rise, the great flaming bird moved forward, to restrain her with one fiery wing.

"It's time, isn't it?" the old woman asked, knowing full well the answer. But there was no fear nor resignation in her voice, for this was not an ending, but a beginning for her. The great flaming entity bowed it's head slightly, and Admiral Charybdis McGregor pulled back the covers so she could stand and meet her end as she had all things in life- on her own two feet, prepared to do what must be done.

But when she rose, it was not with an old woman's aches and pains, nor with the weight of flab and age and bones that ground on bone. Instead, she was once again young and vital- her skin unmarred by the creases and lines of time, her hair full and lustrous, her hands steady and sure, her eyes clear and bright. As she rose without difficulty for the first time in memory, she smiled- that crooked smirk that had been her trademark as the 'Vulcan Vixen' who had seduced starship captains, saved worlds and crossed time and space in the pursuit of what she thought was right.

As she turned to regard her abandoned corporeal form, the wings of the firebird enveloped her, and with the gentle beating of her wings, they carried her away.

When they opened once more, she was at the Christmas party from her first return to Earth- one of her happiest memories, there in MacGregor Manse. Qurka Qurg was there, wearing a scandalous tight-fitting red dress, still young and vital as she remembered her. T'Vyn was there, not in her elf costume, but in her off white Ambassador's robes. Her mother was there, still young and vital as Char remembered her from childhood, arm in arm with the white-haired human astronaut Fred Carlow, whose form Char had once worn even as he had worn hers.

There stood her son Ralm, dead these many years from the battle of Wolf 359, so proud and dignified in his Captain's uniform, who had been but a babe at that party. Beside him was Jessica Valin, the tall tactician whom she'd mentored as a young officer, austere in her Admiral's uniform that meant more to her than life itself. Maur Weaver stood beside Yuna, the cranky Trill nudging the brilliant engineer forward even as he tried to blend in the background. Tivri was there, her antennae turning toward Char even as the diminutive snow sprite's skin blushed a deeper shade of sapphire.

Then as she approached the grand staircase she saw Siivas and Andurean and the Sulamids, Proot and Priit, who had not been there that night. Clad in the diaphanous robes they preferred, they wore no uniforms, but their smiles were warm and welcoming as tears flowed down her cheeks at the joy of being reunited with them all at last. There was William and Bonnie McCray, both young and full of life, smiling at her to welcome her, as were they all. Beside them, clad in a comfortable brown sweater and sensible pants and slippers, of all things, stood the wee spitfire Fiona McCray, for whom the sight filled Chary's heart to bursting, to be reunited with her long-lost sister after so many years apart.

Then the love of her life came striding down the staircase at that leisurely confident pace she knew so well, his eyes alight with that look that was only reserved for her. With a smile on his rugged and bearded face came Raine MacGregor, laird of the MacGregors. Father of her children and her one true love, whom she had laid to rest nearly fifty years ago. The slight grey at his temples was as she remembered when she met him, and his barrel chest was complimented by those big strong arms in which she had taken refuge and peace. Hale and hearty, he opened those arms once more, awaiting an embrace that had been decades in coming. As she stepped into him, she smelled his scent that she had known only in memory for so long, and felt his arms about her, making her feel safe, worthy, and loved. When he spoke, his deep voice resonated in his chest, and she knew he spoke for them all.

"Welcome home, Chary."

With the Hera docked for repairs at Jupiter station and having some free time on her hands Thex was feeling rather happy with herself. Tothye and Decises were both happily sleeping down in her quarters so now she could finish off some tasks she needed to do.

Arriving outside the captain's quarters Thex pulled the PaDD from her pocket and pressed the button. " Captain it's Thex here to see you about the upcoming tests." She said politely.

From inside the quarters, there was a flurry of excited sounds followed by silence for a moment before the door to the Captain's quarters finally opened to the odd sight of Enalia covered head to toe in a red lace-up leather outfit was revealed. Her face was covered in sweat and she was doing her best to catch her breath. "Ah, yes... The tests... Ah... What... Which tests?" She'd been on Earth for most of the past week being interrogated by Starfleet Command so she was a bit out of touch with the going-ons of the crew, on top of starting some shore leave herself with her wife, the holographic entity known as Maica.

" Um is this a bad time captain I can come back later." Thex said as her eyes saw what the captain was wearing.

"No, now is perfectly fine," Enalia replied, glancing back towards the bedroom. "Maica and I were just enjoying each other since Jaeih has Moira for a while and the questioning at command was over. What can I help you with?" As she spoke, a holographic overlay wove itself over the kinky outfit to disguise it as her normal uniform and Maica came sauntering out from the bedroom with a knowing grin on her face, wearing a floor-length purple evening gown that was definitely suspicious.

Thex gave a polite smile to the Orion before she continued. Being caught in her Orion dancing outfit a couple of times she knew the feeling. " I need your authorization for the activation test of my copy of the amazonian bracelets. I have everything ready to go just need an asteroid to run the test on. Don't want to accidentally warp part of the ship into a subspace pocket if the test goes wrong. "

Pausing the Andorian looked around to make sure no one else was in the corridor. " There is something else I was hoping you could help me with. It involves my Thavan."

"Of course. Please come in and we'll talk about it," Enalia glanced around her quarters and motioned for Thex to come in as she moved around picking up odds and ends around the room, tossing them into the bedroom and closing the door. She didn't need to be advertising to the crew that they had a variety of whips and leashes, after all. "Maica, do we have any more of that lovely Andorian iced tea?"

"We do. I'll get some now," the olive-skinned woman replied as she too picked up the quarters, carrying a riding crop to the kitchenette with her.

"I apologize for the mess. We're supposed to be on leave, but until Commander Paris officially takes command..." With one last glance around, Enalia was satisfied and motioned towards the dining table. "Please, have a seat."

"Thanks." Thex said as she took a seat on the couch. " No need to apologize for my own quarters are always a mess, especially with the little ones. " The Andorian said with a grin. " Well, I've told you I've talked with my Thavan? After the holo call the holo transmitter crashed due to a large amount of junk data that had been dumped in its memory banks. When I took a look I found out it wasn't junk data but files in an old Andorian zombo computer code. I've tried to turn the file into regular Federation computer code, but the files keep on becoming corrupted. So to find out what's in them I need a working computer that uses zombo computer code. The only problem is Andorians haven't used them in over three hundred years. I've checked regular channels but can't find one so I was wondering if your pirate clan may know of any that may still be out there. " The sapphire engineer explained.

"I'm sure between the Artans and Maica's resources we can find something for you. It might take a few days though." With a bit of a sigh, Enalia sat down next to Thex as Maica returned with two teacups of Andorian iced tea for them. "Thank you, Maica. In fact, I think I saw a report of an old Andorian mining colony we were considering buying that was in excess of four hundred years old. It might have something you might be able to use."

" Thanks." Thex said taking the tea with a polite smile at the Orion. " Would be nice if you could find one. Zombo code was a nice thing even when it was at its height. I just can't understand how my Thavan learned about it or figure out a way to send it as junk data."

"Sometimes old formats like that are used for security measures. We use similar tactics in the Artan Family now and then. Then again, those that know that are never far from a means of reading such data, so... Yeah..." Enalia sipped at her tea, glancing around the room as if she hadn't just revealed yet another of her biggest secrets. It seemed she was slipping quite a bit today.

" That would make sense, but what my family could have gotten a hold-off and put this much effort to hide is the mystery. They were a bunch of Andorian cultists who believed Vulcans were putting sterilization chemicals in the drinking water." Thex added.

"That honestly sounds like the paranoid type to invest in antique tech to use as security," Enalia replied with a knowing nod. "At least it wasn't stored on magnetic tapes or something."

" And we Andorian's sure are known for our paranoia. " Thex said as she took a sip of her tea.

"I think most races have a deeply paranoid side," the spotted woman replied softly before speaking up a bit louder. "You know, Yeoman Gonadie and Jaeih are excellent with code, and I've heard that Az'Prel is good with older tech like that. They might be able to build a converter or something to adapt the data if you'd rather not wait. Heck, they might even be able to dig up the plans for one of these old devices and replicate one."

" That's something to think about especially if we can't find a working computer. " Thex added as she finished her tea. " I could try seeing if the are any blueprints in the Andorian record center. It's a small chance, but it does leave me some options."

"That's the spirit! Find every angle and hope for the best. I'm sure we'll turn something up soon and get that data unlocked. Was there anything else you wanted to ask about?" Enalia raised her eyebrows curiously, eyeing her Andorian friend over her teacup.

" No nothing else at the moment. " Thex said finishing her tea. " I'll get out of your hair and let you two get back to your fun."

"Ah, thank you," Enalia scratched at the spots on her forehead for a moment before composing herself. "And good luck."

The small shuttle set down near the south end of Wood Street in the Village of Loudonville, Ohio. At the helm, Ensign Mona Gonadie gave a long hug and a kiss on the cheek to her wife, Lieutenant Mnhei’sahe Dox as the red-headed Rihannsu woman slowly got up and climbed out of the cramped, Type 15 shuttle the couple had taken from Starfleet Command on Earth for this brief segue before returning to the Hera.

But it was an important stop for Dox to make, and one she needed to do alone. As always, Mona was perpetually understanding and gave her bond-mate all of the support in the universe. Stepping out of the shuttle, Dox walked slowly in the brisk, November air. Her footfalls crunching the golden leaves at her feet as she passed through the gat of the Cemetary.

She knew where the plots were and walked respectfully back to where she was heading. She felt a strange chill down her spine as if she was being watched. And for all she knew, she was, considering her bizarre relationship with Death herself. And the possible fate she had been offered to succeed the woman in her cosmic tasks when Dox’s own life was to end. But she put such thoughts out of her mind as she walked across the dried leaves blowing in the mid-afternoon light.

She had finished with the last of her debriefings and meetings and her rank and station as a Starfleet Officer had been reaffirmed. As such, she proudly wore her crimson uniform as she made her way to a small area near the west corner, just under an old birch tree that was bald for the season. Stopping, she looked down at two small, unassuming grave markers.

The first read ‘Shawn James Dox - 2306-2392’ and the second read, ‘Juliet Margret Dox - 2311-2393’.

Standing there for a long moment, Mnhei’sahe bowed her head with her arms behind her back and closed her eyes in silence. In her mind, she recited a Rihannsu prayer she had found herself saying more and more often since joining the Hera.

Then, opening her eyes, the young woman ran her hand over one of her pointed ears and smiled lightly. “So, I guess these are new for you. I had them fixed… almost a year ago now. What do you think?”

She paused, almost expecting an answer before she chuckled softly, her voice raspier than usual in the sharp, autumn air. Looking down, she put a hand over the top of the cold, gray marker as she spoke again. “I… I wanted to come and say that I’m sorry. I know it doesn’t mean anything anymore, but I’ve had a lot of reasons to think about family of late. And in that, realizing how badly I failed you, I needed to at least say as much.”

“You took me in when I was an angry, bitter, suicidal sixteen-year-old. And now, knowing that I was never even your responsibility, it makes me feel even worse about how I treated you both.” With eyes that were beginning to get watery, Mnhei’sahe sat on the crunchy leaves below her, legs crossed.

“My life has gotten… complicated. Extremely complicated. I don’t even know if that sums it up, really. But to start with, I learned that we’re not… we’re not actually related. My DNA had been damaged. Overwritten with a patch that my mother had purchased from a business partner, your son, Declan. I grew up thinking he was just an absentee father, wondering why he hated me so much as to leave. Now I know that he left because he didn’t HAVE to care. I wasn’t anything to him. He took his money, gave my mother the needed samples, and went on with his business. But it was all a lie, and I’m sorry for that too.”

Slumping her head slightly, Dox continued, “You should never had to have been stuck with me. You should never have had to take in a girl that wasn’t really your granddaughter. But back then, you didn’t care. You hadn’t heard from… Declan… from your son… in over twenty years. You knew what he was. You knew he was a smuggler and a con-man and all of that. You knew, and you didn’t care.”

“You looked at me and were told by the family services people that I was your son’s daughter. A half-Romulan girl you never heard of with a chip on her shoulder the size of a moon, and you didn’t hesitate. You took me in like you had always known about me and never gave it a second thought.” Emotions were beginning to well up as the Rihannsu woman’s usually hidden accent began to pop out ever so slightly.

As the young, freshly reinstated officer noticed it, she chuckled lightly. “You never cared about this? When you met me my accent was so thick. I knew Federation Standard, but spoke it like a translation computer. But you were the only people that never rode me about it. About my accent. You never tried to make me pretend to not be Rihannsu. You only cared if I was happy. And to this day… now more than ever… I can’t understand WHY?”

There was a long pause, almost as if she expected an answer. And while the young woman was on a first-name basis with Death herself, she knew better. But she collected her thoughts as a breeze rustled the dried amber leaves that had collected on the ground. “You were both so good to me. All you knew was that I was your granddaughter and that… that you had been given this second chance to do right by a child. To make a difference and help me. And I wish so much that I had let you more. I wish… I wish I could take back the years of cold stares and forced apathy.”

A tear ran down the young woman’s cheek as she talked. “But I can’t. If I could go back in time, I swear I would grab myself by the shoulders and scream at that angry, bitter, lost girl to stop being a kreldanni hueiul feanna! To grow up and stop being a petulant child who actively tried to ignore what she had.”

“I’m so sorry. I’m sorry that I wasn’t a better grandchild. Because blood or not, that’s what you were to me. In your hear, I was your grandchild and you treated me as such. And when I pushed away, you both just held on tighter to try and let me know that I wasn’t alone. And I’m sorry that I couldn’t understand that at the time.” Crying openly, Dox wiped her eyes dry as she spoke. “I am. I know it’s too late to apologize. Or… maybe it’s not. I suppose I don’t have the benefit of ignorance anymore. I know you’re here… listening. I’ve seen too much to go back to being able to pretend otherwise.”

“Which means… you already know all of this. But… I still needed to say it.” Dox composed herself and stood back up. “You cared for me when you could have shut that door in my face and told the social worker from Starfleet to find somewhere else to take me. But you didn’t. And even though I didn’t appreciate you at the time for all you did for me, I like to think what you tried to teach me about compassion and love and family… I like to think it didn’t fall on deaf ears.”

Tugging down on her tunic, she straightened the front of her uniform. “I made it. I know that I was still stationed on that Fvadt station running shuttles when you both passed away. That I couldn’t be here for you when it happened, but I made it. I’m on a Starship. I’m a Lieutenant. I… I’ve begun to come to grips with who I am. I’m learning… a little slowly… to accept myself. I have friends. REAL friend. And I have family. It’s a family I made, not of blood. But if there’s anything that I can learn from your example, is that we make our own family, here in our hearts.”

Putting her hand on her right side, just under her breast, she nodded. “I love you both, Grandmother. Grandfather. And while I may have another grandmother back on ch’Rihan… another family that has reached out to me, none of that undoes what you did for me. I may be born of house Rul of ch’Rihan… but I will ALWAYS be what you helped make me: a better person. I will always be Mnhei’sahe DOX.”

“I will take that with me forever. I will honor you with that, at least. And when my daughters are born, they will carry it as part of their names as well. I will try and show them what you both showed me about how to love.” In spite of her best efforts, tears streaked the young pilot’s cheeks. “I love you and I will never forget you. Thank you.”

Standing under that tree, half covered in the golden leaves of autumn, Mnhei’sahe folded her hands in front of her, closed her eyes and gave herself one last, long minute. It was only her, the stones and the wind in the trees for a time, before the young Rihannsu turned and began walking back to the shuttle to that family she made for herself.