He say I know you, you know me
One thing I can tell you is
You got to be free
Come together, right now
Over me

~The Beatles


The toast had led to the drinking, and she had drank and drank and drank.

Trying to keep up with demigoddesses and goddesses, wedged between Schwein and Loki as they all chugged their flagons of ale.

Trying to keep up with the alcoholics. "C'mon Commander, do some shots with us! Watch, O'Dell'll pass out in like, five seconds, s'crazy!"

Trying to keep up with the morose Romulan, she delivered an inspirational speech based on a bicycle bell, that was more offputting in it's incoherent rambling than inspirational. Which in turn caused Dox to force some water on her, which arguably saved her life as she switched to water for the rest of the party, in whatever festive glass found it's way into her hand.

The sun came up. She had the reservations for a weekend, and that had only been Friday night.

A moment of consideration dawned on her as the dawn itself seemed to stretch out impossibly, giving the sky a chance to continue constructing magnificent vistas of atmospheric beauty, showcasing the winds and the clouds in their dance of eddies across the skin of the planet.

"I'm not sure I can survive another day of this. I could go take a spa day, but they'll keep partying... they're still partying... well, loitering in a bar, but, who am I to judge." Shrugging off the bar oupon which she had been leaning for support, Rita Paris drew herself erect, paused, grasped her drink, a bamboo tiki cup, and chugged the rest of her water. Opening her eyes and centering herself, she took one more look at that beautiful dawn.

Stay. Relax. Enjoy, it all said to her.

Pulling out a collapsible tablet, the original series Starfleet officer punched up a search for what she wanted, and she found it. Booking transportation to accommodate the rather beefy specimens, Rita was pleased with the options available from the modern tourism mecca of the galaxy. "The future is everything it was cracked up to be."

"All right, ladies," The awake and alert first officer roused the attention of the assemblage, the private party currently parked in the Caesar's box at the Palace. "The rule of the bachelor or bachelorette party is that it ends with breakfast. It is dawn, there is a diner in this town with seating that will accommodate our larger members, and I have called us a cab in the form of a topless double-decker charter to ourselves- here's to our Artan sugar momma. Now go pee before our ride gets here. Let's go, ladies, look lively now!"



It had only been 29 hours of wakefulness. Really it wasn't that much, but the drinking, the mixing of alcohols and the various intoxicants had made it a very exhausting 29 hours. She'd hit the detox hypo she'd brought with her once she was sober enough to remember she'd had it. Which left her awake for the rainbow bridge back to the Hera, but it was so much different from transporting, she realized. As the Bifrost connected two points like a stargate, there was none of the panic that ran through her cells at their deconstruction into energy. She just.... moved in space.

It was sublime and extraordinary. The nubile navigator understood what it did- what she didn't understand was how they did it. But traveling by Bifrost when she wasn't having an anxiety attack, gave her a moment to be logical in her analysis of the situation. This was something of considerable interest to her, and she offered her thanks at the end of the ride. "Thank you, Heimdall. That was... amazing."

Particularly become Risa, then home, still in the Aldebraan system 42.6 light years distant, likely still moving at warp speed and how do they do that?!?

Goodnights, hugs, goodbyes, and everyone shuffling out of the conference room tugging down their tunics and putting on their game faces to make it to their quarters. Everyone has the day off. All the shifts are covered, all is well, go to bed.Following her own advice, clearing the room, straightening up, marching out onto the bridge to head for the turbolift.

Catch the eye of Lieutenant Bacon in the command chair. Offer him a polite smile and a nod.

The Lieutenant, reading the sign after the parade that just left, acknowledges the nod with a slow one of his own. Offering a very abbreviated two fingered salute, the Commander is off to her quarters, and Lieutenant Bacon now has a bridge story to tell at parties.

"Deck 8, please."

=^= You look exhausted, Commander. Would you prefer to go to sickbay? =^=

"No... just my quarters, and bedrest. If I don't feel better when I wake up, I'll go to Sickbay, I promise you."

=^= As you say, Commander. Good night. =^=

"Good night, Hera."

Across the starship, the sentiment was returned.

The brisk walk down the hall of officer's row, which was, as it tended to be, deserted- as if by design.

The door, and into their quarters... home.

The black leather biker jacket went into a pile on the couch, which the exhausted executive sat on to get her boots off with a groan. Once she was dehooved, she stretched her calves out slowly, trying to coax the tendons back into place as he'd taught her. It was the middle of the morning, so he was in departmental meetings- the experimental botanical group in science lab 13, down on Deck 25.

Wrestling out of the dress, then out of the thong that she swore was trying to strangle her all night, Rita gathered her ensemble and tossed them in the clean closet, to be sorted when she woke up. A military speed efficient sonic shower later and she was crawling into bed. A moment to be logical in your analysis of the situation. Flopping down on her back, as she tended to sleep, she reached for him.

T'hy'la. He who was her husband. Her mate, the great constant of her life.

T'hy'la, came the deep, soft response into her mind.

"Sonak," she murmured as her arm curled around a pillow in the too large for her bed, her breathing evening, her muscles relaxing as he'd taught her.

I had an adventure... it was exhausting. I feel I ended things badly with us, and... I want us to be okay again. When you come home tonight, can we... talk? Ordinarily she worked to structure her thoughts to effectively communicate with him, speaking not of feelings, but of the practicalities of the situation; appealing to him logically. But exhausted as she was, she subconsciously relied on him to translate it this time, as it was all she would manage to telepathically murmur to him as she drifted off to sleep.

Always, was his reply, leaving behind it an eternity to fill up that promise.

Sonak returned to their quarters a short time later. When their bond became strong enough to actually become a telepathic contact, he knew it was more than just his former psionic powers slowly reawakening. It was because something very important for her was up in her mind, in her soul. And what was important to her was important to him; more so than any importance he might estimate for him alone.

He heard her even breathing as he entered, and smelled faint traces of alcohol, sweat, perfume and fabric intertwined. Deducing from those what she had been up to recently, he decided to let her have a much needed and earned rest. He noiselessly removed his uniform, donned his kolinarh tunic and sat in their living room to meditate.

in calling, she had referenced the last time they had a private discussion together; one where he miserably failed to correctly answer her needs, because he was simply unable to truly comprehend them on their basic emotional level. Understandably, he did not wish for this to reoccur again. And so, he meditated on the matter, finding rest and purpose at the same time.

He had not been there for her. This was inexcusable. He would make better effort.

As she slept, she was aware of him, on the most subconscious level. While her adventures had carried her far away from him more than once, she continued to derive great solace from his presence, as she could literally sense his proximity. With him, she felt sheltered, secured and beloved; these were concepts that were quite elusive to her until she had met him. With his support and reinforcement, she had grown considerably as a person, gaining confidence and self-worth, as she saw herself through his eyes, and saw herself as he saw her.

The day passed, and she slept soundly, recuperating from her girl’s night out, celebrating the pending marriage of the Baroness von Alcott. As she slowly stirred to wakefulness, the extradimensional explorer became consciously aware of her logical mate nearby. As he was meditating, it offered her calm as she rose, bringing a smile to her face that he was already here. Relieving herself, she washed her face and hands, pulled on a white cotton t-shirt that declared ‘Earth Girls Are Easy’ and some pale blue cotton panties, then padded barefoot out to the living room. She debated starting the kettle before disturbing his meditation, but that was pointless. He knew she was awake and moving about, of course. So instead she filled and started the kettle to make spiced tea for them, mixed the blend, then came to him in the living room, a cup in each hand as she leaned in to hug him somewhat awkwardly from behind.

“Good morning, he who is my husband,” Rita murmured as she hugged him, then released him to come around to seat herself before him, cross-legged. “Your presence pleases me as always, and it welcomes me home.”

Sonak let her hug him without moving a muscle, aware of just how important physical contact was to her. It certainly was not meaningless to him either, at least when it came from her.

''There is no home for me without you, nor presence more significant than yours,'' he answered, his eyes and mind all for her. ''Did you have a restful sleep, my wife?''

“That's sweet... yes, I did. I definitely needed that,” she admitted with a smile, setting his tea before him. “Thanks for letting me sleep. So…. before I left, I came to you for solace, and I don’t think I phrased my request well. When I didn’t get what I was seeking, I left angry, which isn’t at all constructive. It’s been a while since I came to you for that sort of thing, and…” Sighing, she lowered her eyes to study the tea mug in her hand as she spoke. “I guess I should have outgrown it by now, but sometimes I want to be reassured. Which is fine, if I am seeking a logical solution, but… I wasn’t. I was just intimidated and worried about the transport and I sought you out on vagaries instead of looking for a concrete answer. It was just all feelings and anxieties, and that isn’t really the thing to bring to you.”

Sonak nodded.

''Your assessment is correct. You chose to link yourself to a Vulcan; and more to the point, one that is not controlling emotions but devoid of them. I am the born blind to all your colors. In this, I shall logically fail more often than not, as logic is not the end of everything. You teach me that wisdom every day we share."

He looked straight at her.

"I shall strive at least to be more perceptive in the future, to try and compensate for my failings and be a better husband to your needs, my wife.''

"It wasn't a failing.... I don't know," Rita set a course for a logical explanation of how she was feeling. "I used to be able to come to you, and... you made me feel like I could do anything. That hasn't really been how our interactions have felt for a while, which... also kind of adds a bit of insecurity on my part. I do know how you feel about me, of course, but... I do need to hear it from you, sometimes. I think you're amazing, and brilliant and clever and far away the most attractive man I've met in any reality. If I don't say it enough, I should."

"My point is... everybody looks to me. I have to be the example, the one with a plan, the Commander. Which is fine," Those bright blue eyes came up, and the human raised her hands a bit in protest. "I love the job, and the ship, and the crew, and all of it. It's just... a lot easier if you believe in me, if that makes any sense?"

''Feelings do not make sense; they are as they are and in themselves is their value,'' he retorted. ''I do not have to merely believe in you; I know you. I have ample, concrete evidence that you are a most competent officer, a most able commander, a credit to your hard work, and a prime example to follow. Truth be told, in my dealings with other crewmembers, and as inadequate as I am to do so, I myself follow your example as best as I can.''

He sat squarely in front of her.

''You know I do not need you to tell me how you feel about me. I may not understand, but I know. But if it is worthwhile for you to state how you feel, I will always be here to listen and appreciate your estimation of me or anything else. I accept it as part of your being, but a facet of the gem that you are to me. As with a laser, there is no coherent light for me without you.''

For a fleeting moment, he wondered if he had wandered accidentally into that nebulous, mysterious realm called poetry. Nevertheless, his words were the words of truth, so he pressed on.

''It is somewhat the same with the ship. You are the focal point between command and crew. It is only logical that you are conscious of the responsibility this entails. This is the burden of command. Which you bear at least as well as any other command officer ever does, or did, bar none. Never doubt that. I do not.''

Something then occurred to him.

''There is a truth that may not sound logical, but is a truth nevertheless: it is entirely possible to make virtually no error and yet still fail. Do not dwell on the risk of failure; concentrate on the possibility of success. With you, within you, it is always there.''

“Thanks Sonak,” she smiled in return. “Failure is seldom a worry, just… with gods and demigods and supersoldiers and bodybuilders, sometimes I just worry about measuring up when I am only human, you know? I'm not a genius, not a scientist or an engineer, a telepath or an empath or cybernetic. Nothing but a regular Earth gal who is still woefully behind the times. Plus transporters or similar technologies still cause anxiety, because for all the times I’ve done it just fine, the times it has not gone fine… “

Pausing at that, Rita made her choice as she always did, and committed to the truth. “I worry that one day I'll get so lost, that you won’t be able to find me. That I’ll lose you, this life we have here... everything. And I’ll have to start all over again. Without you. That… is something that worries me, every time something like transporting comes up, which I guess... I wish you could understand? I know, I know we always manage, but… I just… worry one day we might not. The idea of going on without you and rebuilding a life… I know I can, but I very much don’t want to.”

"When I come to you because I am worried about a transport, that's what's going through my mind, those fears," she explained, then paused, cocking her head and nodding as her eyes unfocused a bit. "Which... I suppose... relates to your advice. If I'm worried about it going wrong, that increases the likelihood that it WILL go wrong? So I should instead concentrate on the possibility of success, to sort of Nietzschean 'will to power' it to not go wrong?"

''Despite what some would like to believe, the universe never bends to our will,'' Sonak answered patiently. ''Your point of view is perfectly understandable from a being of emotion. The only thing I can offer you to... deal with it, are logic and reason. How well you might succeed in this balance, or in any other way of your choosing, is only up to you; that is where the will comes into play. I believe the Human expression is; you have to live with yourself and no one can, or should, live your life for you. But whatever you choose, remember this, my wife; in this, and all that is, you will never be alone.''

As he paused to make sure the sincerity of his words was felt before continuing, she reached out to stroke his jawline with her fingertips, a smile gracing her face. It was as close as she was going to get to a reassurance that no matter what, he would always find her. Because he would not make a false statement, or one that could not be empirically proven- such a statement, on it's face, would be illogical. But he understood her need, and he was offering what comfort he could, within the strictures of logic.

''The only standard you have to measure up to is your own. What you are is unique, across all of spacetime. Your life is as worthy and significant as anyone else's, as much as you will it to be. Each one of us can only act according to one's will and one's gifts. Expecting anything else is illogical. I, for one, only expect you to be true to yourself. In that, no one is more worthy of praise and admiration. I challenge all those so-called gods, demi-gods, supersoldiers and bodybuilders, geniuses, scientists, engineers, telepaths, empaths and cybernetics to make that claim.''

He looked again straight into her eyes.

''It is because you are yourself that you, and you alone, are, and could ever be, myT'hy'la. ''

Moving the tea mugs aside, she turned and lay on the floor, resting her head in his lap and pulling his arm over her as she interlaced her fingers with his own, feeling the closeness of their minds becoming that much more pronounced with physical contact. Expressing herself to him, she was honest and vulnerable, giving mental voice to her fears. So you haven't grown weary of me yet? My emotional needs are not tiresome to you, my insecurities do not trouble you?

He used his free hands to start a soft session of Vulcan massaging techniques to ease her body and mind.

I have no emotions; therefore I cannot be troubled. But they DO concern me, because they do trouble YOU, he answered through the incorruptible link of their minds, where only truth could exist. As for your emotions, they are an endless fountain of wonders for me to discover and ponder about; and as long as you have needs, I may justify my presence in your life, through what I may bring to you in our relationship... as little as it may be. That alone is enough to prevent any possibility of... weariness. Ever.

There's the sex, too, she said frankly. "Never discount the sex. It really helps keep me on an even keel." After she had spoken did she realize she had switched to audible communication. Wholly unnecessary at this point, since they overlapped as yin and yang, the ebb and flow of the tides and the shore. Yet he had always encouraged her to speak if she preferred, because often by vocalizing she framed her thoughts, even to herself. In this case, when she said the words, it led her to the realization that the entire episode had been illustrating to her, and her eyes snapped open.

Sitting up, she turned to face him, her face a mask of incredulity. "Yesterday... okay, technically day before, yes, but, point being, when I came to you and explained that I was all anxious about everything that came up... I wanted to have sex, but I didn't realize it. You started walking me through a logic exercise, because you were trying to respond to the call for help with a logical approach."

Having grasped the situation to this point by verbalizing it, she kept the train of thought rolling, nodding. "That's what I was subconsciously after, to bond physically and intimately with you before embarking on a dangerous journey. But I didn't consciously realize that was what I was after, so instead I picked a fight and stormed off." Smiling an off-kilter lopsided grin at him, she offered an apology. "That was both unproductive and illogical."

''Indeed. Sex is not only part of our marital duty, it is an integral component of our mutual well being and fulfillment; one that only you and I can provide for each of us fully and properly. By bonding together, we pledged to one another that we would fulfill this part of existence fully and totally to one another ,with the entirety of our body, mind and soul; to the exclusion of all others.''

It was obvious that no apology from her part was necessary as far as he was concerned; but he accepted it for the sake of her emotional need. And of course he was not smiling at all when he said then;

''In other words, as you Humans say; ask and you shall receive.''

The smile that spread across her face was a beautific one, as she appreciated him in that moment. It was often said that Vulcans had no sense of humor, nor did they joke. But she knew better, from time and experience with the most impressive man she'd ever met, who would remind her that he was no man, but a Vulcan. Closing the distance between them, her smile became playful, and she wiggled her eyebrows at him in an unspoken question.

Asked, she would receive.

The bachelorette party on Risa for the Baroness Schwein Von Alcot had ended and it was an eventful evening, to say the least. Thank's to a bit of manipulation from the Trickster God, Loki, circumstanced lined themselves up for a host of unusual occurrences that tested the skills, good humor and resolve of the ladies of the Hera. From pirate duels to living statues run amok, it was a night that would live in the crew's memories for a good while to come. 

Back on the Hera, Mnhei'sahe Dox lay in her feathered nest hugged up against her warm and very pregnant wife and bond-mate, Mona Gonadie. Both women were sound asleep and glad to be in each other's arms again, but it was a sleep that wouldn't last for the young Romulan Lieutenant Commander as she awoke to the sensation of hot breath across her face.

"Fvadt..." She cursed, muttering a whisper quietly in her native tongue as she squinted in the darkness. But she already had a good idea of what to expect as her eyes adjusted. This was not the first time she had been woken by the sounds and breath of the spectral horse that was standing next to her bed, looking down on her with pleading eyes.

It was the ethereal equine known as Taxes. The ghostly mount of the woman known as Masato Rei: The woman also known as the embodiment of Death throughout the galaxy and beyond. She was also known as one of Mnhei'sahe's closer friends aboard the Hera and the young pilot had expected something like this. Rei had joined them all on the trip to Risa for the party but had found herself in a bitter argument with the ship's new Chief Medical Officer, Tovanna Mah. Ultimately, Rei chose to leave Risa rather than cause further issues, but Mnhei'sahe knew her feelings had been deeply hurt. The red-headed Romulan was one of only a handful of mortals in all of existence that could see and speak with Rei and Mnhei'sahe knew that Rei's was a singularly lonely existence. Mnhei'sahe had wanted to check up on her friend to see how she was doing, and she had a feeling that Taxes was there to make that happen.

Now.

Lifting a finger to her lips, Mnhei'sahe made a shushing gesture and then waved the horse back as she gently and slowly crawled out of bed. Placing a soft kiss on Mona's cheek, the feathered Miradonian tucked in a little tighter at the sensation and let out a gentle trill, like the purr of a kitten as she smiled in her sleep. Smiling back, Mnhei'sahe looked down and, as she was in her underwear, grabbed a pair of workout pants and a black long-sleeve T-Shirt she ran in and gently stepped out into the living chamber of their quarters where Taxes was waiting.

Still speaking softly, so as not to disturb Mona, Mnhei'sahe pulled the clothes on as she slid her feet into her boots. The last time Taxes has visited her, he whisked her away in her underwear and she didn't want to be caught the same way again. "What's wrong, Taxes? Is Rei in her quarters?"

With a shake of his head and a look out the large windows, the ghostly equine once more transformed into a hoverbike, his instrument cluster lights blinking insistently.

"I guess not." Dox froze for a moment. She had done this before, flying on the back on Rei's mount, on the colony world of Mol Krun'chi where she had been born. Once in contact with Taxes, she had become as immaterial and invisible as the spirit horse was to everyone but her and Rei. She had flown through walls and was unaffected by the cold weather in the skies of that world. But this was different. Taxes was pointed out the windows of her quarters into the streaking stars of warp space. 

Once before, Mnhei'sahe had been in space without an EVA suit, and she almost died but for the guiding light of Hera and Rei herself choosing not to take her. And now, she was nervously about to allow herself to do so again. She knew she would be fine. She knew that so long as she held on to Taxes, she would not be harmed doing that thing that she had been told no other mortal could do except her: ride Death's pale horse.

The horse, which now, took the familiar form of her own hoverbike to make her a bit more comfortable. It was oddly sweet and the slightest of smiles cracked her cheek as she sat down on the familiar seat and put her hands on the handlebars with a bit more confidence than she did the last time she had done this. "Okay. You know, you don't have to transform. I... I'm not afraid. But... I'm ready to go."

Mnhei'sahe gulped slightly as she worked to convince herself that what she said was true.

It was with an almost laughter-like whinny that Taxes lifted off the deck plates and gently glided through the outer hull of the USS Hera as if it wasn't there. Indeed, it was as if time flowed differently and space itself was the thing moving around them rather than they the ones moving. Then, once the Hera was a short distance away, things really got trippy. It was as if a massive zoom lens had been installed on Dox's senses as the galaxy itself quickly passed from her vision and another one soon came into view, quickly centering on a single planet orbiting a red star.

Rears ran down Dox's mind as she tried to process what she had just experienced, but she found that it had simply been too much to take in. She had just left the known galaxy in less time then it had taken for her to have gotten dressed a few minutes earlier. And now she was looking at a planet that no other Romulan eyes had ever seen before. It was overwhelming. That planet was like nothing in the Federation database, being comprised entirely of salt and silicates. If life had evolved there, it would be closer related to Tholians than humans.

And yet as Taxes came in closer, a large city could be made out, filled with crystalline humanoids deep in the middle of a medieval-style war and standing on the top of one of the tallest castle parapets was Death herself, overlooking the slaughter of millions of these life forms.

Rounding the parapet, Taxes slowly lowered himself down at the rear, on the other side from where Masato Rei stood as Mnhei'sahe took in the otherworldy sights surrounding her. Her throat was dry and her eyes wide for a moment as the din of battle below her echoed in her ears like an almost musical thing. Slowly, wiping her eyes dry, she stood off of the mount that had taken her so far away from where she had just been and gently she removed her hands from the bars. 

Once she did, she took a breath and the air around her tasted like nothing she had ever experienced. She wondered if it was even something that, under normal circumstances, it were possible for her to breathe. But in that moment, she knew she wasn't in any danger from such things any more than she was in danger of suffocating in the vacuum of space moments before.

Another galaxy.

But those thoughts quickly faded into the background as she looked across the edge of the tower to see her friend standing there, overseeing her grim duty. The grim duty that might one day be Mnhei'sahe's own if she so chose. Stepping over, she stood next to Rei and smiled lightly, not knowing if the dark woman was even aware she was there. "Hello."

"Hey," Rei replied softly. It took her a few more moments, her black cloak fluttering in the wind, before she motioned out at the carnage below. "This race once spanned half of this galaxy, but over the past age they've died out from disease, loss of knowledge, and wars. These are almost all that are left. I thought it fitting to oversee the last days of their people personally rather than letting my... subconscious aspects do it. Even if they don't realize someone is watching."

This was the Masato Rei that Mnhei'sahe wished that Dr. Mah could see. The woman who did her unenviable task with compassion. The woman who didn't come to take life, but to ensure that those lives wouldn't end alone or forgotten. The woman who still cared. Her friend who was watching a people die just so that someone would remember. 

Looking over the field, Mnhei'sahe took a moment to realize what she was being made witness to. A race's last breath that the Federation would likely never even know existed on a world so far no warp drive could ever reach it in a thousand lifetimes. But there she stood, a young Romulan woman next to an immortal entity, once Japanese from Earth, who found themselves in the role of the reaper. Softly, Mnhei'sahe turned towards Rei and tilted her head. "This is what it's about, isn't it? Bearing witness. Watching so that someone will always know. Will always remember. I... can't imagine that burden. Then again, I suppose I don't have to imagine. After all, here I am with you."

"How are you doing?" Dox asked with a light smile.

"You know, every avatar is told not to try to make friends for that very reason. You get to know someone and they find out who you are, they hate you, you reap them..." Her words may have been flippant, but the pain in her voice was real, and if she still had a beating heart in her chest, it would have been torn in half long ago. "Other than vampires. I guess I could make friends with them, but that's a completely different set of problems."

"It's not always how it has to happen, Rei." Mnhei'sahe said, putting her hand over Rei's own gloved one. "I'm here. I know exactly what you are. I've seen you at work. I've watched you take people close to me and hold their hands to take away their fear. I know one day you'll come for more of them and I am glad that it will be a friend that does so. I know that, depending on what I decide, you'll come for me one way or another. Frankly, I'm glad to know you. I'm glad that when the moment came, I asked for your name."

The young Romulan woman leaned over, her back to the field of carnage below them, to meet Rei's eyes with a bit of a wry smile. "You do have friends. You have me. Asa. Even Sam back on the Hera. Though, I have to admit, I had no idea Vampires were really a thing, so you CAN still surprise me."

"Thank you. I..." As Rei paused, there was an explosion deep under the castle beneath them and a pale blue energy wave went out through the city, causing the crystalline people that were still alive to scream out in pain. "That was their last drive core and the reason they were fighting. They were using the heat to smelt weapons. They never figured out fire."

As the last of the members of a now-dead race stopped moving, Rei closed her eyes and turned to her friend. "You're right. Thank you. I need to remember that I do indeed have a few friends and that I'm not entirely alone. For now, at least."

Looking across the field, Mnhei'sahe's heart sank just a hair. This was Rei's existence and the loneliness was palpable. But standing there, she was committed to making sure that her friend wouldn't bear it all completely alone. "For now... is the most any of us can hope for. And in spite of your job, you're still one of us. We have lunch together and we talk and even laugh over things. Hnaev, you even helped me get over being afraid of horses. So, I'm not going anywhere until it's my time to."

As she joked lightly, she glanced back over her shoulder as Taxes, transformed back into his spectral horse form, stepped silently over to put his big head next to Mnhei'sahe's with a whinny. Turning towards him, the red-headed Romulan chuckled lightly, "Hey, I don't have any apples this time. You didn't exactly warn me I would need to grab any, now did you?"

The ethereal equine shook his head in a scoffing fashion as Dox patted the side of his face, turning back to Rei. "I'm sorry about what happened. I don't know her well, yet. The new doctor. But I'll talk to her more once I do. She just... she doesn't understand."

"No, she understands her own experiences and that's enough. There's..." The pale woman paused a moment and tucked her hair behind her ear as if listening to something far away. "There's something else you should probably see. Maybe it'll help understand her side. Taxes, if you don't mind..."

With a soft whinny, the spectral horse shifted once more, but this time into an antique black and silver convertible straight from a popular 20th century Earth show about a hero in a bat costume.

Wanting to protest slightly and insist that she would somehow make Tovanna Mah understand that Rei wasn't an enemy or a monster, she instead let it lie. She wouldn't press the issue if doing so would make Rei any more uncomfortable. And she was likely right to allow the El-Aurian woman to remain ignorant of such things. On some level, Mnhei'sahe understood that the things she had learned were for her alone to know and what she knew was only a drop in the bucket on the grander scale of things. So, instead, she took a seat in the passenger side of the vehicle, climbing over the small side and nodding that she was ready.

Rei then took the driver's seat, but rather than taking the wheel, she let Taxes do the driving, the ghostly steed moving through the universe the same way as before.

This time they focused on a system definitely within their own galaxy and one inhabited by a very familiar race. Rather than coming to a halt on the local planet, they approached a trio of Borg cubes in the process of assimilating a culture. Green beams lanced out and stripped shields of escaping ships before beaming evacuees off so they could be assimilated. Spots on the planet itself could already be seen in crisis from assimilation.

"They're not killing anyone. They're claiming every being for themselves. Twisting them into just another copy of their own rather than the beautiful, unique flower they were born to be." Rei motioned towards one of the cubes as they moved closer.

"Tlhei Nouhha..." Mnhei'sahe muttered in her native tongue, a mostly silent exclamation of astonishment. Like any Starfleet officer, she knew of the Borg. She had watched countless holos of the many battles waged against this threat. But until this moment, she had never actually seen them with her own eyes. And now she was looking out, with no viewscreen between her and the horror of their all-consuming power. This was the force that destroyed Tovanna Mah and Asa Dael's people's homes, though long before either doctor had been born. This was the force that drove Riov Dalia Rendal to seek weapons of galactic destruction to defend Romulus.

They moved exactly as she had seen in holos and recreations. Like a swarm, unthinking and unstoppable. Mnhei'sahe watched, clutching the side of the vehicle tightly and leaning forward as if to do something... anything... against the impossible. But all she could do was watch. Just like Masato Rei, she was there in that moment, but could do nothing to prevent what was happening. Like the Prime Directive on a galactic scale, she was nothing but a witness as tears escaped her eyes and stained her cheeks as the only words she could manage leaked out in a hoarse, raspy whisper. "It's... horrible."

"And this isn't even the worst part," Rei replied as they got closer and a beam lanced out and tried to grab them as well. Mnhei'sahe winced slightly against the light for an instant as It sputtered for a few moments, reaching through space at seemingly nothing before giving up. "Whatever happens, do not leave Taxes for even a moment."

After a few more moments, they were inside one of the cubes and alongside one of the long walkways lined with regeneration stations, Borg drones in each of them and several more walking by. They were there and the stale air filled Mnhei'sahe's lungs. Without hesitation, Rei hopped out and over the handrail in one smooth motion before pulling off one of her gloves and slapping one of the passing drones on the face.

One would expect the drone to now be dead, to have been touched by Death herself...

But it wasn't.

Instead, it reached out and grabbed Rei by the shoulder, perfectly capable of seeing her while Mnhei'sahe watched in absolute horror, her mouth hanging agape. Sitting up again, the young officer clutched the side of the vehicle that was Taxes and went to leap up from her seat to act before the vehicle shuddered slightly, reminding her of the grim warning to not leave. Instead, all she could do was call out to her friend while she shook, "REI!"

As the drone tried and failed several times to inject her with nanoprobes, the pale woman just hung there in the large Borg's grip for several moments. After a while it gave up, dropping her to the deck and she sighed and climbed back into the driver's seat.

"I have no power over undead and they have no power over me," she explained softly, looking like she was about to cry.

Watching, Mnhei'sahe's eyes went from Rei back to the drone as it stood there for a moment, looking at the pair of women in the unusual vehicle. It's cybernetic eye scanned the vehicle, but detected nothing but empty space in spite of what it's organic eye told it. And for a moment, it locked those eyes on the young Romulan woman, taking her in before turning to walk away as if nothing had happened.

After a few seconds, Mnhei'sahe put her hand over Rei's gloved one. Her voice was cracked as she wiped a tear from her own cheek. "So...even if the rules of your station didn't prohibit you from acting, there would be nothing you could do to stop them?"

"Not unless I wanted to give up my station and go at them with a blade," the pale woman replied softly. "But then I'd have to have a replacement lined up."

There was a long silence as they sat in the car, the hum of activity in the cube continuing around them as it pulsed like a living thing. Mnhei'sahe knew exactly what Rei was talking about. Already, the offer had been made for when the young woman's natural life was over. She had already stepped more than a toe into this world, having witnessed to the dying words of the woman that was her nursemaid as an infant and having comforted the Romulan Starfleet Admiral, Charybdis MacGreggor as she passed. But that possible fate, she hoped, was a long way away. Instead, she just sat there with the friend she wished she could hug.

"Rei..." Mnhei'sahe said, her eyes narrowing for a moment as she thought. "When Rita saved me from captivity on Romulus, it changed fate. Not just for me, but everyone on Mol Krun'chi that would have died had I remained in Riov Rendal's... apprenticeship. And when I sat with you that night in your quarters and we re-wrote their fates together, you were happy."

Turning, Dox managed a smile for her friend in spite of where they still were. "You were. Sometimes, you try to pretend like you don't have feelings, even with me. But you were happy to re-write those fates. You... you kept me from dying when I was beamed into space. You saved Schwein when she took a sword to the belly. You showed Asa how to restore the years that Thex had lost to that armor of hers. At every moment you have been able to, you have taken every opportunity to allow fate to take a different path. You find loopholes."

"The El-Aurians. So many of them fell like this... to the Borg." Mnhei'sahe added, looking up at the ship surrounding them. "How many got away because you found a loophole to your job?"

"From the Borg? And eventually survived things like the Nexus and the Hapish?" Rei paused in revealing that number as she pulled her glove back on. "Three thousand seven hundred forty-two. That drone is one of four hundred seventy million El-Aurian assimilated. As for loopholes... I'm still looking..."

"So... more than none." Mnhei'sahe said as she patted the side of the car with a grim expression on her face. "C'mon, Taxes. I think we can go."

As she did, she turned towards the driver's seat and tilted her head down a little to meet Rei's eyes. "I've only known you for a while... and I may never understand why you've chosen to share all of this with me... why I can touch Taxes or open one of your books... but I feel like I have a pretty good idea of who you are. I can see how much what you must do weighs on you. And I can see the relief it gives you to not have to think about that for however brief our visits are in the grand scheme of things and I'm glad for that. But this is not your fault."

Suddenly, the young woman began to understand what the ships former Counselor had meant when she told Dox that she needed to learn to forgive herself. "Any more than it was my fault that Rendal killed my Father. Any more than it was when Ensign Paulson or the security troops on Castillo Del Muerte died under my command. It took me... a long time to at least start understanding that. I suppose I still really don't on some level because I think I'll keep blaming myself for them until... well... until you either bring me home or hand over the job. But you did what you could and you're still looking for ways to do more. You aren't what Dr. Mah thinks you are and you know it. You care. You try. That's what matters. That's what Rita would tell me and that's what I can tell you."

As they started moving back towards the Hera once more, the pale woman didn't look any better, but at least she gave a thin smile that portrayed a certain sunken-eyed creepiness rather than full-on sorrow. "Thank you, my friend. I suppose this is why this naughty horse has brought you out here. Thank you as well, Taxes. I'll try and get you some good fruit later."

"Well, he knows when you need help." Mnhei'sahe said, gently rubbing the outside of the car door as if he were still a horse. "I can't give you much more than my own friendship, and I know it's not a lot, but it's yours."

As the car worked it's way through space, the distorted effect surrounding them righted itself and Dox looked around to notice that they were in warp space again with the mighty, black starship racing ahead of them as they approached. It was a sight that filled the young pilot's heart with a swelling moment of happiness before they returned to Rei's VIP quarters on Deck 8. 

Climbing out to allow Taxes to return to his normal, equine form, Mnhei'sahe could hardly believe what she had just witnessed and would be processing it for years to come. But for now, as she thought about it, she put a hand on Rei's shoulder. "Rei. I'm sorry. I wish I could do more for you to not feel so alone. But... those people we saw on that world. What were they called? Where were we?"

"I don't know what galaxy you'd call it... But it was pretty distant. As for the people, the closest I suppose they could be called is 'Kla'gats'. That crystalline snowflake thing that bothers this galaxy is one of their rogue doomsday weapons, if you've heard of or seen it."

"I've read the reports on it from... I think... the Enterprise, yes." Mnhei'sahe said thoughtfully as she thought about it for a moment. "The Kla'gats. Now... you don't have to remember them alone. We can both remember them. That, I can share with you."

"We're none of us alone, Rei. No matter how much it might feel like it sometimes. You told me that once, remember? Even there, on that horrible battlefield, those people didn't die alone because we were there. You. Me. Even Taxes." As Mnhei'sahe spoke, the spectral horse walked over to her and gently pressed his face against his pale Mistress' with a soft whiney.

"Yeah, that's true," Rei replied softly, running one hand along the muzzle of her eternal companion. "And even if there's no other mortals, there's the other avatars."

"Well, you've got me for a while still. I'm sure Asa wouldn't mind a visit back on Earth every now and again. And the White Rabbit and... whoever the others are." Mnhei'sahe said with a grin as she walked over to the replicator that didn't quite work right for Rei, but that she could operate perfectly fine and came back with a tray. On the tray, was a steaming pot of tea, two cups, and a tray of apple slices for Taxes which she placed on the small coffee table.

Pouring two cups for herself and Rei, she cupped a few slices and held them out for Taxes, who enthusiastically began munching away. "I suppose I'll meet them in due time eventually too."

Taking the cup and sipping the hot tea, Rei nodded approvingly. "This is true. But for now at least, I have a good friend like you to remind me of why I do what I do. Thank you."

"Yes, I'm absolutely sure. I appreciate it, and we'll do a tandem flight, but I think they can only handle so much rank other than Mona in the area before their heads will explode. Just keep one watchful eye if you'd like, but really, it'll be fine."

Walking out of the Chief Flight Control Officer's office, Commander Rita Paris closed the door, ending the conversation with a grin. Lieutenant Commander Dox meant well, of course, and she wanted to watch out for her people as well as the first officer. But the oddballs of the Research and Development department of the USS Hera were a bit skittish around ranking officers. Scaling the ladder outside the flight control office to Deck 3, Paris considered the suspects in question.

While Lieutenant Mona Gonadie was a quiet-spoken chief-genius-exotic-flight-systems-designer who was reasonably unflappable, she was also experiencing limited mobility in the late stages of a pregnancy of triplets. Children who would somehow be a hybrid of Romulan and Miradonian, a race literally born to fly, who could fly from birth. Rita was, she had to admit, curious as to just what exactly that was going to look like. But she'd find out in due course, what with the linear flow of time. The true power of Gonadie was the ability she had to draw out the best in her people. Which in turn translated to a rather fierce and protective loyalty to her. Her misfit crew had risked court-martial more than once just to protect her reputation and dignity, and Paris had no doubt they’d do it again in a heartbeat.

Considering she expected Mona's water to break... or eggs to hatch, Rita still wasn't sure- on the R&D deck, it was bound to be a comedic occurrence, given her crew.

The rotund tower of Tellarite standing at the engineering console, all two meters of her, was one Ensign Briaar Gavarus. A space swine with an eye for engineering, a keen mind and a thorough attention to detail, she served as the R&D flight engineer. Far from a mere mechanic, though, she coordinated analyzing the issues, developing solutions and often streamlining systems, which she dismissively attributed to her innate laziness. Yet the woman was hardworking and dedicated, inventive and courageous when it was called for. While she was large and imposing and argumentative, her sarcasm and derision hid a gentle soul, ill-suited for violence despite her size and strength.

As Gavarus stood at the engineering panel, climbing up to the upper flight deck Paris had the odd experience to come eye to eye with her pint-sized partner in crime. The 'right stuff', in this case, came in a compact package. Historically, the original Earth astronauts, and even pilots, were always preferred to be slight of build and no greater than average in stature. Less mass made more room for equipment, and less weight meant less fuel to propel the craft. But that theory was somewhat distilled in one Ensign Fiona O'Dell.

All of 145 centimeters tall, with a stick figure body supporting a somewhat mellonish head, covered in a thick red mop of curls, O'Dell immediately brought to mind a leprechaun, complete with stereotypical Irish accent. Even when clad in the modified EVA armor flight suit, which Paris noted was now color-coded with the cerulean blue unique to the department, she was tiny. The product of a distant colony that had been saved from extinction by the USS Enterprise-D then wedded to a sterile race of clones, she was an odd mix of worlds old and new. But she was a daredevil test pilot, fearless behind the stick, inventive and intuitive. Driven to prove herself, as she had been easily dismissed all her life, the midget Mariposian often pushed herself too hard. But no one had been able to make the prototype of the variable mode fighter craft Rita had envisioned quite like O'Dell. The picayune pilot could literally make the clunky mechanoid dance a jig, and no other pilots thus far had been able to even approach her skill with the craft.

Watching footage of the little woman using the robotic arms to snatch a bottle out of the air had impressed the comely commander, amongst a number of her other piloting feats.

Stepping onto the flight deck, Paris saw into the remodeling break room. Again, it had been shes who had given the order to construct a daycare on the flight deck, and she had also ordered that said daycare should be a lifeboat in case of emergency. Inside the partial renovation, she could see the Romulan intelligence asset turned smuggler, now reformed nanny Jaeih Dox, currently holding aloft the lime-skinned Moira Artan, the Captain's daughter. Heir to the Artan privateering empire, she would someday command a vast fleet- unless the emerald-skinned toddler chose another path for her life, which Rita was quite confident that Enalia Telvan would support. She had no doubt that somewhere in the room was Minerva Carrot, the Minotaur babe who was the adopted child of the leprechaun and the leviathan, and perhaps a few more children from about the Hera.

While there was a daycare on Deck 13, this was the R&D department, which had somehow pulled together into its own microcosm, forming a family out of the materials at hand. A disgraced Tal'Shiar agent turned nanny to exceptional children. A first generation of genetic mixing with entirely too much inbreeding. The daughter of a wealthy and influential family who was the underachiever of the lot. And one of the last of her species, intermingling with another race to procreate, gathering them all to her nest atop the flight deck.

Looking around, Paris smiled, her hands settling on her hips even as an errant draft blew up the skirt of her anachronistic uniform a bit. Great things were happening here, and forces were at work. The USS Hera was a family, as were all such crews. But with the goddess namesake of the starship aboard, families formed of strangers, which forged bonds that could move mountains. It was so perfectly Starfleet, and for just a few seconds, Rita Paris basked in it- the vision of a cooperative future where compassion and caring guided the varied and wondrous denizens of the United Federation of Planets into the future. One that shone with hope and promise, of equality and celebrated diversity.

Leaning into Gavarus, O'Dell muttered, "She's joost standin there. Ye think she's had a stroke...?"

"No, Ensign," the Starfleet siren declared, engaging the moment once more. "Just a little lost in thought is all. As I scheduled the time, this visit should be no surprise. I want to flight test the prototypes, get a feel for them, see what you did with my cockamamie idea."

"Yuir idea?" O'Dell looked up at the gold-clad commander quizzically. "Yuir the one who came oop wi' this?"

"I had the idea.... the looks of those Scorpion fighters we liberated from Station 335 gave me the idea, plus Lieutenant Commander Dox was brainstorming for small craft that could be beamed in for personnel in an emergency. I thought if we were going that far, why not make them into powersuits for that much more versatility," Paris explained as she paced the deck a few steps. "So the concept was mine, but the execution was all Lieutenant Gonadie over there.

"Well, the Banshee's fueled and ready. Well, 98 percent. Ish. I... I uh... I need to finish flushing the coolant for the left, rear hydraulic pressure... thingy. But, yeah. That's two minutes tops." Gavarus said, stuttering nervously and looking over her control console as she finished up a systems update on the experimental craft. "The Thunderchicken is on the parking deck, and I'd need to run her OS through a few checks first, though. She's been on stand-by for a bit."

"See, THIS is what I originally envisioned," the imaginative explorer wagged her finger at the parked Thunderchicken prototype. "Something large enough for it to get shot up, but not you, and as long as the forcefields held, she was solid. Made for space, air or ground maneuvers. Vehicular weaponry with a diverse payload at your fingertips, and jets on your feet. Full tricorder sensor rig with a cockpit's worth of viewscreen to take in all the data. I watched that test run, O'Dell. You put that thing through it's paces, and showed what it was capable of, how it reacted to sustained damage, and the need for physical fitness of the pilots. I see you still run 2 miles a day, sometimes closer to three."

Moving parallel to the Commander as she made her way across the deck, talking to the Thunderchicken, O'Dell was surprised the superior officer knew as much about the spacecraft as she did. That she had seen the reports the tiny test pilot assumed, but she didn't realize the first officer had studied the experiment, nor that she had kept up on it to the point of monitoring O'Dell's fitness. Catching back up to the moment, the quick-witted wee lass nodded. "Aye mum, give or take. S'an 06:00 feedin' fuir Minerva, so once she's doon- which is a five-minute task, believe you me- I took her into bed wi' Briaar and I go fuir me run."

"Ye get her, then?" O'Dell pressed the point as Gavarus hustled over to the Thunderchicken's engineering console, starting to warm her up, reading the deck. "Alla the things she kin do, an' the advantages and the testin' and allavit. Yuir why she's here, then? This whole project, allavit, t'was something you wanted. Because ye wanted to fly one?"

"Ohhhhhh yes, Miss O'Dell." Tracing a finger along the extended flap-shouldered walker mode in which the Thunderchicken was conventionally parked, as it was O'Dell's preferred method of piloting, it was quite clear that Paris was quite fond of the ungainly-appearing craft.

"This entire project, I have very patiently waited for it to go from prototype to production model. I have been hands off, just allocating resources and leaving you alone to work. You're all doing fine work, which likely goes without saying, but it's nice to hear it from command. So," Paris turned, flashed them all a bright and sincere smile, and nodded at each of them in turn. "All of you. Outstanding documentation, stress tests, field tests, not to mention the work on the cyclones... really exemplary work all around."

"Thank you, Commander. We couldn't have done it without your support," the brightly plumed and gravid Miradonian replied, beaming with pride. She'd been working hard to make her own dreams come true, and these craft went a long way towards that.

“We couldn’t have done it without your design and engineering breakthroughs, the testing and all of the hard work your entire department has put in,” the curvaceous commander countered. “You all deserve the credit for this accomplishment.”

"Also medals," Paris wagged her finger at the assemblage. "I think I have a backlog list from your chief that Starfleet owes you, on top of the commendations she's recommended for you both. Although..." The mod minidressed right hand of the Captain paused, then drew herself erect, smoothing her skirt down in in a practiced maneuver. "I've noticed that in your little corner of the world, rank equals responsibility, and in your school of keeping your head down, the first rule of an officer is to avoid all responsibility. Thus, you are intimidated by rank- be it someone else's or your own. The thought of being promoted gives you cold sweats."

Nodding to Mona Gonadie, the department's chief from whom Rita had learned this particular phenomenon of the 24th century, Paris smiled benignly at the odd pilot and flight engineer pair. "Assuming that I'm correct, have no fear. I will pin on medals and give you a crisp salute, but I promise not to promote you nor put you in charge of anyone other than yourselves. As is, that's dubious command of JUST yourselves, depending on how many beers you are into the evening."

"She only needs half of one." Gavarus muttered under her breath with a light smile, noting her pint-sized partners predilection for being a remarkably lightweight drunk.

Pivoting suddenly in place, Paris snapped her fingers and shook her head. "No, darnit. That just isn't true. You'll be in charge of making the training materials, and thus you will actually have to teach a crew of pilots and engineers how to fly these things. Because that, too, is R&D, and the skills must be trainable. So, with that said," the blonde bombshell stepped over, then reached down to offer her hand to O'Dell.

"Hi, I'm Commander Rita Paris. I'm your first pupil." As the stunned O'Dell took the pretty pilot's hand, a smile came over the face of the little Leprechaun. "And I would very much appreciate it if you were to teach me how to pilot both of these vehicles. Thank you."

When she said it like that, it sounded less like a request, and more like an order.

"Aye mum, I'll teach ye everything I know, glad to." Noting the frantic actions of her porcine partner who grimaced, then flashed a toothy and clearly forced smile while she worked, O'Dell took the cue to steer the officer.

"Gavarus still has a lotta preflights ta run on the Thunderchicken afore she's warmed oop, on accounta we dinna take her oot much noowadays, what wi' the Banshees in testin." Patting the solid leg panel, O'Dell stroked the surface of the ship. "She's a veteran, aye? Captured a bloody pirate ship, she did... the bloody queen of the pirates, aye?" Patting the hull once more, O'Dell clearly swept away a tear. "The Banshee's ready, mum. So we could take a peek at her first maybe, aye?"

With that, the portly porcine all but broke into a run on her delicate and tiny hooves as she grabbed her toolkit to hoof it over to the Thunderchicken. The mech had been largely dormant for a few months since the design of its successor, the Silver Banshee, and there was more than a smidge of work to get her ready to fly as quickly as Paris would want her. As O'Dell led the first officer back to the Banshee and out of earshot, Gavarus muttered to herself, "Of COURSE Thunderjugs wants to fly the old one! Frickin' hell... that manifold is practically disassembled! F***!"

Glancing up, Gavarus checked to see that her words hadn't carried, then sighed in relief when she saw that they hadn't. The danger past, she dove beneath the craft to get to work.

“Noow, ye kin pilot the Banshee wi’oot a flight suit, mum, but yui’ll need at least a suit of EVA armor to really make her work well. It can be done without the interface, but I would recommend ye suit oop,” O’Dell advised. Here in her own element, under the watchful eye of the mother hen of the department, O’Dell was far less skittish around the superior officer than she might be under different circumstances. While Paris intimidated the firecracker on a number of levels, here she was the expert, and here, in her comfort zone, she was dealing with the Commander as just another pilot, with whom she was sharing her knowledge and technique.

This is where Mona had to step in and try to explain the difference. "The Thunderchicken was designed with the original EV suits and armor in mind, so the canopy can act as your systems control. However, with the redesign of the interface and the new flight suit systems, I've been able to build almost the entire flight control system and HUD into the suit for remote holographic gesture control of the entire line. It's similar to what's on the bridge, but standalone and visible only to the user. On top of that, it's designed to interface with the virtual intelligence in the mechs rather than directly, just in case your subconscious decides to take them for a stroll. You still have full control, but the VI makes sure it's your conscious mind and not either a shadow copy or you dreaming or a virus trying to control it."

"Now, when the Banshee Mark 2 gets approved for construction..." Mona couldn't help but drop that little hint with a grin.

“Well, I guess I’ll need to get fitted for a flight suit, then,” the Commander declared, nodding with a half-smile. “Now, that interface that was carrying a ‘leftover’ mentality from the pilot- have we turned that over to Sickbay? I suspect that there may be some synthetic researchers who would be very interested in that, as well as some who might see applications for preserving brainwaves, or potentially restoring them, or transferring them to another. It could be a great boon to science if the technology can be perfected. So let’s make sure Dr, Mah receives those materials and hardware, so she can prepare a report, please.”

“So do I need to go down to the Armory to get suited up or do you have fabricators up here ready for the job?” In the case of some officers, that might be a loaded question. After all, Paris was clearly up to speed on the workings of the department. Yet she asked all the same, to offer deference to the Chief in her department- professional courtesy, which was a hallmark of Paris’ leadership style.

Hoofing it over, huffing and puffing slightly, Gavarus had a grease stain across her forehead and her cheeks were beat red, "Sorry... *HUFF* I was just... *HUFF* upside down over there under the 'Chicken's chassis. Any... anywho... She's fueling up and I just... *HUFF* I just need to... uh... readjust a few settings on the board and she'll be ready to fly. Just... about ten minutes, Commander."

Stretching to the side, there were three loud and audible pops from the portly porcine as she let out a light grunt. "Sorry. Stitch in the baby backs. Anyway. To answer your question, we actually have a scanning and replication station for that that me and the Chief put in a few months ago back by the locker rooms. We were making so many tweaks to the flight suits on the fly that it just made more sense to keep it in-house."

"Fee... uh... Ensign O'Dell can show you the set up while I'm finishing up the 'Chicken for you." Gavarus grinned broadly, something she rarely did, which let Fiona know she needed every second of those ten minutes to work.

“Ensign, take your time. That’s an order,” Paris advised with a soft tone and a gentle smile. “A rushed flight crew is a flight crew that’s cutting corners, and you have absolutely no need to rush on my account. Take your time, do your due diligence, and when she’s ready to fly, she’s ready to fly. I’m the one who asked you to get the mothballed prototype online. See the Banshee over there, all primed and ready to go? That was the expectation, and you met it handily. This isn't an emergency, so we aren’t racing the clock. Relax, do your work, take your time and when she’s ready, she’s ready. Meanwhile I’ll investigate the new flight suit and see what surprises are in store for me with that redesign, hm?”

"Uh... aye. Aye aye, Commander." Gavarus said, trying to not let out an audible sigh of relief as she saluted, clearly overdoing it only to then wipe the smudge of grease on her thick, three-fingered hand. Noticing that, she finally cracked and let out an audible groan.

"Ugh... right. Thanks, Commander. I'll get her up and ready as soon as possible." This time, the smile was a bit more authentic and relaxed as she then looked around for the mobile workbench with the hand wipes on them. Spotting them, she headed off to clean up and finish her work, leaving Rita with O'Dell and Mona.

“Now that’s settled, lead on, Ensign O’Dell. So since this is a scanner run, do I need to strip down…?” Paris asked as the child-sized crash tester and the buxom bombshell both headed for the locker room.

“NO! I mean, no, mum,” O’Dell stated, perhaps a bit more forcefully than she’d intended. The curvaceous commander gave her body issues just standing there breathing, and that was IN uniform. Fiona O’Dell had no desire to see all of that defying gravity and making her feel more like an 11-year-old girl. “The, ah, the scanners dinna need ye to be nekked, joost helps when yuir getting into the body glove, aye?”

“Of course, Ensign… I understand,” Paris replied. This was something she was accustomed to from women of many walks of life, and she could certainly see O’Dell having some anxiety in that arena. After all, standing beside one another she looked like a mom at ‘bring your kid to work’ day. But Rita Paris had blossomed at a relatively early age, and was accustomed to the effect her looks and physicality tended to have on people. So it was easy for her to be gracious, and she exercised that now.

“Would you like to wait on the flight deck while I get into the skeinsuit?” Paris offered solicitously. “That part I’m quite familiar with, and if you wanted to confer with the rest of the team to coordinate efforts, I can handle this part alone?”

“Aye mum, that’d be fine,” O’Dell sighed in relief as she left the room, although she suspected Briaar Gavarus might not mind a peek. But as her porcine partner had pointed out, while she was still attracted to other women, she was a one-woman gal, and while the asexual O’Dell offered her no physical pleasures, Gavarus found fulfilment with her diminutive damsel through their shared lives, the rearing of their child, their time together in bars, and cuddling as they slept. All of which ran through O’Dell’s mind as she crossed the flight deck again, a bright red blush overtaking her face, which bore a somewhat dopey grin.

From underneath the Thunderchicken's open belly, Gavarus lowered the grav platform she was laying on, her arms buried in the open compartment working as her ears twitched at the sound of her pint-sized partner's delicate footsteps. It was a sound she knew well, and always loved hearing. Turning, the Tellarite engineer caught Fiona's grin and smiled back. "That looks like a good puss on your face. Everything okay back there?"

“Oh, aye, aye…” Fiona replied, headed over to pat her bestie on the thigh. While they shared a relationship that was still odd, even to her, she cared about the Tellarite woman like no other. “Joost… something reminded me of ye, is all, and… well.” Bashful wasn’t O’Dell’s stock in trade, yet here she was, blushing and bashful. Changing the subject, she chucked a thumb over her shoulder. “Commander Cupcakes is in there getting changed so’s she kin get herself fitted, so I figured I’d come back oot here and give ye a hand, hm?”

With that, she handed a microspanner over to Gavarus, which she suspected was the next tool needed in the procedure. Briaar had made sure that Fiona knew much of the maintenance and mechanical operation of the prototype she had piloted, which made her a handy helper in a pinch when the working-class warthog needed a spare hand.

"Ooh, thanks. Perfect." Briaar said, confirming the need as she went back to work. "The Chicken's not messed up or anything, but you let a machine just sit there for a while and everything needs readjusting or it's all... gummy and shit. Tweak here and there and she should be better than specs."

"Wait, what with her reminded you about me? She hiding an extra hundred kilos of gut in a secret third boob under her shirt, or something?" the Tellarite tinkerer asked with a scrunched-up face.

“Nae, ye silly swine,” O’Dell swatted the knee of the grouchy grease monkey. “It’s… complicated. Joost take it as a compliment, aye? That yuir odd monogamy that I still dinna understand is still… well, it’s sweet and it shows me how mooch ye care and we REALLY should ought to not be talkin aboot this on duty, aye? Just know that when we get off tonight, there’ll be a shepherd’s pie waitin fer ye the size a’yuir head, alreet?”

While Fiona was often surprisingly recalcitrant to discuss their relationship, one of the ways that she did show her affection for the space swine was in making her meals that were hearty, filling fare from her homeworld, which often involved potatoes. While she herself was carnivorous, her partner and child were both vegetarians by design- neither had the digestion for animal protein. Thus O’Dell found herself seeking vegetarian recipes to feed her family, and the traditional dishes of her culture came in quite handy.

Knowing better than to press a point when Fiona was using the promise of food as a distraction, Briaar was well distracted. "Oooh, sweet. That shit is the tits. Consider me on board."

"At's me girl... oh, willye lookit that..."

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

The comely commander's ability to get into the pressure suit that conformed to the body, custom made for every individual officer, was not hobbled by having to actually wriggle into it. Thanks to the bracers she wore which stored it, along with the entirety of her EVA armor, in a finite extradimensional pocket of space. Accessible with a thought, her uniform went into storage to be replaced by the black body glove across her impressive physique. As the fabricator had spun around her, semicircular arms whirring and pivoting about her to first scan, then fabricate the components directly onto her physique. As the final layers hardened, she called out her preference.

"Computer, please paint the armor plates command gold, 03 Paris," she asked as the shiny exo-plates solidified, and they magically frosted themselves the same color as her usual EVA armor. The same color as her own specialized exploratory vessel, the Getaway Driver, created specifically to get her out of dangerous situations when a sane person would beam out. Which had, in turn, led to all of this. Looking around, Paris couldn't find a mirror, so she just bounced a sensor wave around the room and examined herself from external telemetry. Which led to her seeing that the suit was tracking the energy wavelength's trajectories, like firing solutions or flight paths, and she began to get an inkling of just why Lieutenant Gonadie had felt the need to design a specialty flight suit.

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

"Oh my yes..." the California girl marveled as she made her way back to the flight deck, wiggling her fingers in amazement. "It's like I'm not even wearing gloves at all, this is impressive. And the readouts... I see why you redesigned the helmet, you're right, this makes much more sense for piloting than a convex surface."

Moving across the flight deck, Paris was still talking, even though it seemed she'd barely had time to even get into her skeinsuit. "Wow, this is going to take a few minutes just to adapt to the interface, look at all the additional controls you have on this.... oh, of course, you set it up so it automatically interacts with the holocontrols, because why would you not. More efficiency, increased reaction time. Very impressive, Lieutenant, at least so far."

"Yuir... vurrah fast at changin' mum," O'Dell frowned, but shrugged it off. "Alreet... so I suppose this is the part where I teach ye how to interact wi' the controls and the interface, aye? Dye want to start in a simulator, or in the real thing?"

"Simulators are very useful training tools, I'll admit, Ensign," Paris turned to eye the Banshee, parked on pad 1 and ready to go. "But I'd prefer to learn in a real, actual, solid starcraft, if it's all the same to you. Holographics are great and all, but they're no substitute for real experience in my book. I like to get a feel for her, you know?"

"Aye mum, that I do," O'Dell nodded. It was a pilot thing... you wanted to feel the craft, to feel her weight and her pull and which thrusters were firing at what point. The tiny test pilot's estimation of the pin-up first officer went up a tiny notch, as the woman's passion for what O'Dell had devoted her life to was clearly evident. "Alreet, so, welcome to the Silver Banshee, or as she's known technically, VFC 301. We're parked here in walker mode, as wi' this model, we did away with the robot mode-"

"Space considerations or pilot preference drove that decision- I was never clear on that front," Paris asked, cutting off O'Dell's introduction by redirecting to the project head.

"Torsion stress on the space frame was too high on the structural integrity generators. In that mode, we were using double the power just to hold the thing together while transforming. It wouldn't take much for someone to get a lucky shot in and blow it up." Mona didn't even bat an eyelash as she explained it. "It's an issue I'm working on in the Mark 2 as well."


“I see, I see. Well, I would like to see if it’s viable, so do keep working on it, please,” Paris replied without missing a beat. There was no argument- when it came to the systems, the analysis and application of the data, Rita Paris knew practically nothing. Her own minor engineering know-how was 130 years out of date, and from another universe to boot. Thus it was easy for her to cede a point to the well-educated and well-trained professionals who knew what they were talking about. When it came to projects such as this, Rita was an ‘idea’ gal- her contribution was to envision something new and different that might not have yet been invented, then turn it over to the miracle workers to make it happen.

As her flight suit and the Silver Banshee had recognized one another, they were offering to make the handshake of data exchange, so Paris brought up her command code in the holographic interface, and logged into the starcraft. As the options screen opened, she began reading and reviewing them, realizing that she was quite out of her depth with all of the options available. Thus, she deferred to the expert.

“Alright Miss O’Dell, why don’t you walk me through these preflight options and give me something of a tour here. Let’s pretend the old lady is not too bright and way behind the times, shall we?”

“Uh, beggin yuir pardon mum, but ye dinna look like much of an old lady,” O’Dell offered dubiously, which brought a peal of laughter from the cheerful commander.

“Ahhhhh… sorry, Ensign. I always imagine it’s made the rounds and scuttlebutt has had it’s way, but I suppose you haven’t been on the Hera for that long,” Paris explained good-naturedly. “I was born on stardate -89880.7, or February 13th, 2233 on the old Earth calendar. Chronologically speaking, that makes me… 164 years old, in a few days. At best guess I think I might be turning 33 or 34, physically, mind you. My own timeline in that arena is a bit of a mess, so I’m never quite certain, and that is it's own even longer story. But, in brief, I graduated Starfleet Academy in 2255, and was lost in 2268. So I’m not exactly familiar with all of the technological advances that have come to pass in the 130 years I wasn’t around. Make a bit more sense to you now?”

For her part, the diminutive daredevil eyed the Commander through narrowed, suspicious eyes, waiting for the punchline, certain that she was being pranked. Looking over to Gavarus, the broad-shouldered space swine shrugged, not sure what to make of the story either as she got down off of her repair platform and hoofed it over to the control console to run a systems diagnostic. But as the time-tossed temptress waited patiently, it began to dawn on O’Dell that the woman wasn’t pulling her leg, she was serious. Thus the request for help was also serious, as if she had come from that era, the fact that she could function in the modern-day was just shy of a miracle.

“Ah… okay then, mum,” O’Dell nodded, not really sure how to react to that. What the actual fook… and they made YOU first officer?!? Given that the subject was just not something she was prepared to deal with, the tiny test pilot stuck to the business at hand. “I guess let’s start with the main menus, examine what they’re used for and what ye need to know aboot them…”

"I loaded several interface options into the system so if the default one isn't to your liking..." Mona began, pulling out a PaDD and cycling through the Banshee's interfaces manually. "Perhaps the one styled after the original Miranda class? With a few extra controls from the shuttles of the era for atmospheric flight, of course."

“The courtesy is certainly appreciated, Lieutenant,” the comely commander replied as O’Dell linked their suits so that she could piggyback and help direct and illustrate the lesson for the anachronistic astronaut. “Honestly, I feel it’s better to learn the modern systems, than try to adapt them to something closer to what I’m familiar with. But again,” Paris half-turned as she spoke, deep in the menus and clearly distracted, “color me impressed with your thoroughness, Lieutenant. Multiple interface options is a very good idea, since it’s anyone’s guess who might end up piloting one of these flight suits, assuming Starfleet likes the design.”

“Which… wait, is this… no… that? Yes, okay, I see….” It was clear that Paris was distracted by her attempts to learn the interface, navigating the systems with false starts and dead ends, but she was exploring them quickly and efficiently with O’Dell’s assistance and guidance. “So have the flight suits moved to submission to Starfleet yet, or are they still in prototype as well?”

"I submitted the initial design for quality assurance testing at Daystrom a few days ago, actually," Mona confirmed with a bright smile.

“Outstanding,” Paris replied, offering a distracted thumbs-up as she continued exploring the interface.

Walking back over, Gavarus was wiping her hands clean on a somewhat greasy rag and finally had something resembling a calm expression. "And in no time, there'll probably be robot fights in Japan using the base designs, Chief. I'm still blown away that that shhh... stuff is still happening. It's so awesome."

Then, clearing her throat, the two-meter tall Tellarite engineer in blue waved her thick, three-fingered hand towards the massive mech behind her. "Annnnd, the Thunderchicken is up, running, fueled and ready to go, Commander. Just had to re-tune a few connections and tweak the settings. The left ankle joint was low on lube. Basic maintenance, but I just ran the full systems diagnostic, and she’s green across the board."

“Well done, Ensign Gavarus, and in record time, no less. Miss O’Dell barely needed to stall for you at all,” Paris observed, pointing out that she was aware that she was being steered by the R&D crew, but appreciative of their efforts. “Given that she hasn’t flown in 72 days, that’s some commendable work. Very impressive, keep it up. But don’t worry- I’ll try to keep the surprises down to a minimum, so you won’t have to produce engineering miracles on demand on a regular basis.”

Eyeing the large mechanoid prototype, Paris looked back to the smaller, sleeker banshee, then back to the Thunderchicken. “I have to admit, though… while I am excited to try out the newest model, I’d really like a crack at the big girl first. Thunderchicken… an unusual name for an unusual craft. Rather than let Ensign Gavarus’ speedy and efficient work go to waste, let’s try out the big girl, here…”

What followed were a series of halting motions, ungainly steps and a demonstration that while O’Dell had taken to piloting the mech like she’d been born in the cockpit, the Commander was nowhere near as deft or natural a talent. In fact, working with her, O’Dell began to get a feel for the woman as a pilot. Paris made no assumptions, and it was clear that she did not share O’Dell’s degree of manual dexterity or agility. While natural aptitude and ability had augmented skill in O’Dell’s case, the Commander, it was clear, learned by doing, and that skill was hard won. By the time they had walked the mech around in a circle and transformed it a few times, it was clear to the pixie pilot that the executive officer accomplished everything the same way- through hard work, and practice.

When she overwhelmed the internal gyros in robot mode and the mech toppled over on its side, Paris got an arm under it and managed to lever the mechanoid up into a sitting position, and laughed at her amateur ineptitude in the vehicle. “Well, I won’t be giving you a run for your money anytime soon, Miss O’Dell, that’s for certain. This is… quite the involved piloting experience,” the Starfleet siren admitted, flexing the mechanical fingers before her. “But I’m quite fond of how she moves and how she handles. I suppose I should try the improved model now…”

As she spoke, Paris transformed the mech back to the walker mode, and levered herself back upright during the transformation. Stepping to stabilize it, she popped the cockpit and looked surprisingly pleased with herself. “Miss Gonadie, what’s to come of the Thunderchicken, now that the next prototype is built and in testing?”

The colorfully feathered woman grinned proudly as she looked up from her PaDD. She'd been monitoring the readouts remotely to make sure nothing went wrong while the Commander was in there. "Well, Daystrom has requested a copy of all of our research data on the Banshee so I'm considering disarming the Thunderchicken and sending her to them as well. With yours and the Captain's approval, of course. They're interested in the bipedal mode for construction purposes, I think."

Looking around fondly at the variable mode fighter, Paris shook her head. "I don't think so, Lieutenant. Let's send them the more advanced prototype, once you've moved on to the mach 2. As Miss O'Dell remarked, this is a veteran, a storied warship with a rather distinguished pedigree. I'll have to clear it with the Captain, but I think we'll keep her on here, as the mascot of R&D, if nothing else. She'll be maintained and ready to fly- and I do intend to fly her, make no mistake. For today I think I've taken enough of the department's time, and put enough dings and dents in your flight deck, Chief."

Clambering out of the cockpit, Paris vaulted out of the craft to the deck, retracting her helmet as she did so. "Thank you all very much. This has been an enjoyable excursion today. I feel I’ve made some progress, and I have a bit of a better understanding. I'll be booking your time for an hour a day, Ensign O'Dell, until I'm satisfied with my competency. If you have homework to assign as you walk me through the instruction, I expect to receive it. I'm your guinea pig, and teaching me should give you all the materials you need to design the first test course. Agreed?"

"Uh... aye, mum," O'Dell, far from glum or intimidated, was actually distracted because she was lost in thought. Considering how to instruct another pilot how to get the most out of the versatile transforming craft was an intriguing challenge, and deep down, it appealed to the drunken braggart within her to be the authority on the subject to a class of learners. Looking up, eyes bright and excited, O'Dell nodded enthusiastically. "Aye, mum! Will do, Commander!"


It would be a number of years until the Banshee variable fighters would be put into use by Starfleet, and the development and creation of the revolutionary craft would be lost to all but aerospace historians. But with the establishment of a teaching curriculum, the first step to full legitimacy had been accomplished. Which was due to the efforts of these four women, in the experimental department of the shadowy starship, the USS Hera.

"You were magnificent, granddaughter. Words cannot convey how proud I am of you right now, but we shall talk. For now, go- there is Senatorial business to tend to that prying eyes and rounded ears need not be witness. Jolan’tru, Mnhei'sahe,"

The words of Senator Verelan t’Rul echoed in the mind of her granddaughter as the young woman made her way through the corridors of the Starship Hera. Lieutenant Commander Mnhei’sahe Dox was a Starfleet officer and one of the ship's senior officers and a department head, as chief of the Flight Control Department. But she was also the granddaughter of a Romulan Senator And that Senator wanted to speak with her Granddaughter.

An official request for holographic communication between a Federation Starship and the Senate of the Romulan Star Empire was not something that happened often, so when the formal request had been received by Starfleet Command, the message was quickly forwarded to the Hera and Captain Telvan made the appropriate accommodations for her junior officer. The ship dropped from warp and would maintain a stationary position for the duration of the signal, while Mnhei’sahe would be afforded use of the main holodeck. After all, Starfleet was in no way oblivious to the most unusual situation in which they found themselves.

Having an officer with a direct connection to the Romulan Senate was not something to be ignored, but it was a connection that made the young, red-headed Romulan pilot more than a little uneasy. Only months ago, Verelan had arranged the young woman’s kidnapping, after all, in an attempt to bring her granddaughter back to Romulus to assume a place at her side, as was her birthright. Senatorial seats were inherited, and Verelan had wished to groom the granddaughter of whose existence she had only recently learned, in the proper ways of their people. It was a plan that had failed, but failure was often simply a means by which another door was opened, and opportunity was something that any good Romulan was always prepared to seize.

Thus, Mnhei’sahe found herself being groomed for a different role entirely. She was now Verelan’s chosen representative in talks between the Senate and the hidden reunification worlds scattered throughout the Empire. In truth, Mnhei’sahe found herself uncomfortable in the role. It was one of many for which she found herself being groomed. As a Starfleet officer, Commander Rita Paris was grooming the young pilot for Command, to one day captain a starship of her own and lead others. Captain Enalia Telvan saw in the young woman an Artan Baroness, and she had already been awarded a ship of her own within that dubious organization.

The less the anxious young woman thought of what her friend Masato Rei, known as the embodiment of Death itself, was grooming her for, the better.

Stepping into the holodeck, Mnhei’sahe took a deep breath and entered the empty space. The door shut and sealed behind her for privacy, though she knew that her every word would no doubt be reviewed and scrutinized by Starfleet Intelligence and, likely, the Romulan Senate as well. Despite this, she tried to relax, absurdly, by standing at attention. There in the center of the room, she adjusted the crimson uniform she wore with pride and wiped a smudge from her Starfleet badge. She ran her fingers over her pointed ears to ensure that no errant hairs were out of place and she took a few more deep breaths before the computer chirruped. =^=Incoming private message. Security level Alpha priority, from Verelan t'Rul. Senator, Romulan Star Empire.=^=

Centering herself, Mnhei'sahe slowly let the breath out and she let herself relax for a moment as she spoke. "Computer, please initiate secure communications. Authorization Dox, M. Lieutenant Commander. Access code 795-X9E."

As she did, the room began to flicker as the holographic systems engaged, and the young pilot found herself in a holographic projection of the Senator’s office at the capitol. While holographics were not unknown within the Star Empire, they were a tightly held secret. After all, the Romulan art of deception could be greatly assisted by holographics, thus they, like cloaking technology and transporters, were tightly controlled within the Star Empire. Thus technicians had likely had to rig the Senator’s office for holographics, or she herself was also in a holoroom, and the projection of her office was a facsimile.

“Jolan'tru, granddaughter. You are looking well today,” the voice of the matriarch of hour Rul came through the chamber as her office painted itself in around them, and her features sharpened. “It is most gratifying to speak with you again, after your recent report to the Senate.”

In spite of herself, and the circumstances with which they were first brought together, and in spite of her own reservations about her place in the future of the woman who stood across the virtual room from her, Mnhei'sahe was legitimately pleased to see her grandmother. Such was the pull of family to the young Romulan woman, denied it so long throughout her life. She allowed the slightest of smiles to crease her cheeks as she nodded in a respectful bow. "Jolan'tru, grandmother. Thank you, I am glad to speak with you as well."

“So, it seems we have found a way for you to represent the Senate to Starfleet, while still fulfilling your Starfleet obligations. It’s not exactly an ambassadorship, nor is it a Senate seat, but certainly a step in the right direction, wouldn’t you say?” the elder senator with the sharp eyes noted, inviting agreement. “You have made me proud with your rather novel solution to your loyalty to two worlds, Mnhei’sahe. In that, I am not alone… your work is quite the talk of the Senate.”

"I would agree, yes." Mnhei'sahe agreed, maintaining a mostly professional demeanor, not quite know what would be appropriate under the unique circumstances. But even as such, she cricked an eyebrow at Verelan's last statement. "I hope at least some of that talk is positive as there's... there's a lot of good that could come from this on many different levels."

"Some good, some bad. There is the usual drumbeating of the Warhawks and the distrust of outsiders, whom the consider you to be one. There are those who wish to see beyond our borders and reach for reunification, as the mission in which you participated is evidence," the stately grand dame stepped around the desk, her finger tracing across the marble desktop as she took slow, deliberate steps.

"There are those who feel the Star Empire should remain as it is, not upsetting the status quo as the Empire is stable and settled and sane at the moment. There will always be dissenting voices, there will always be opposition to any idea, particularly one that has had so many years to become ingrained as this one. But that is the art of politics, granddaughter." Standing before her, one generation to the next, the silver-haired senator peered into the dark eyes of her hope for the future. "Convincing those who do not see your way of thinking to see your vision, and share it by contributing to it, for the betterment of society."

"Politics is a living, breathing thing, and the Senate doubly so. Each of these aristocrats represent their district, and they sometimes work toward the betterment of their people, sometimes merely for their own power and benefit. But when they come together to debate, to propose, to consider and decide... it is a unified body that can change the course of history. not just for Romulus, but for the galaxy." Turning to walk back around the desk, the distinguished and regal figure moved with confidence, if slowly. "A heady brew, no?"

"Exceedingly so." Mnhei'sahe said with a slight smile, nodding. "But all things considered, I know a little about what a unified body can do when it's focused on one goal. What we've accomplished on this ship is a small example of that. And... as for convincing others to see things in a different way, sometimes..."

Mnhei'sahe unfolded her arms from behind her back and stepped a little closer to her grandmother's desk, a bit more comfortable in the moment. "Sometimes, two parties with very different points of view can learn to see things from the other's side and meet in the middle to create something neither would have predicted, and maybe even achieve something better as well. I... I hope WE can continue to be proof of that."

"So far so good. Sometimes there will be concessions that need to be made," the career politician offered. "But not on your end, and not just yet. So how goes the proposal? How does the Federation side of the negotiations look at the moment?"

Taking stock of what Verelan had just said, it was clear the career politician was putting herself out on the proverbial limb to make this all work on the Romulan side of things, and the words 'but not on your end' spoke of a grandmother's desire to protect. It was a moment that Mnhei'sahe noted internally as she nodded solemnly.

Answering, the young Starfleet Romulan was truthful and direct, "Cautious optimism, I would say. I'm not privy to any of the higher-level discussions, of course, but my communications show that, much like the senate, there is opposition but more than a few voices that see this as the next reasonable step in the gradual lessening of tension that has been building between the two governments since the Dominion War and Starfleet's role in dethroning Shinzon."

Thinking on it a moment, Mnhei'sahe folded her arms in front of her now, looking around the holographic room she stood in, taking it in just a bit with a touch of astonishment before continuing. "I can say that I believe that steps forward will continue to be extremely cautious ones for a while so long as Rendal and her rogue benefactors are still operative."

“That is a considerable concern,” Verelan agreed, nodding as she took a seat behind the desk. “As she is considered unsanctioned, there is call for her to be tracked down and stopped, of course. But there are a few factions within the Senate that applaud her actions as that of a true patriot, even as she is facing criminal charges. History reflects the prevailing perspective, as the proverb goes, so we shall see if she is a villain or a heroine of the Star Empire in due time. Meanwhile, reassure your people in Starfleet that we are making every effort to contain her, and that her actions are treasonous in the eyes of the Star Empire.”

“Of course, a long history of boldly lying and condemning actions taken which were authorized by the Star Empire or the Tal’Shiar have not left the Federation much trust in such promises. We understand this, and unfortunately, that is a stigma that you will bear as a representative of the Imperial Senate to the Federation,” the silver-haired matriarch admitted, folding her hands together in front of her on the green white-veined marble of the desktop.

"It's a burden I accepted when I told Starfleet I would serve in this capacity. Thankfully, I have earned at least a little support during my debriefing when I returned, and have some Admirals on my side that will listen to me when I tell them your words. And some that might even believe me when I tell them that your words are true, grandmother." Mnhei'sahe said. "I'm not here alone."

Then, she paused a moment to consider her own words and stepped a bit closer forward. "What about you? I know enough about the politics of our people to know that you will need all the support you can get on your end. You're putting yourself at a tremendous risk standing up for this. For me."

“Not for you, Granddaughter,” the sly old politico replied. “This is for our people, our future. While I will admit no small amount of pride in you and your political progress, this is far, far bigger than you or I, Mnhei’sahe. This is about two worlds, and the fate of an Empire. This is about moving boldly into the future instead of living in the past and endlessly conquering more and more worlds so as to not see the decay and rot at the core of the Star Empire. This is about changing the minds of the people, freeing them from the tyranny of fear, and changing the fate of the galaxy in the process.”

"Regardless of the scope, which I understand the gravity of all too well, I can also be concerned for you on a personal level." Mnhei'sahe said frankly, choosing to let that concern be seen freely without any facade between them. "I'm still a pilot. Charting the variables and measuring risk is part of the training. Do you have strong enough support to keep this momentum going? It's much harder to silence a chorus, after all."

“I do have one strong supporter…. a member of the old guard, a war veteran who entered politics, respected and well-liked on both sides of the aisle. Senator Artorius is a strong proponent of peace with the Federation, and a very vocal supporter of the Reunification movement. So while there are plenty who might wish me silenced and that this particular movement be stopped in its tracks, there are some who would see it through. Besides, I have Pajom to watch over me, and he is ever vigilant.” At that, the Senator looked past Dox, to a portion of the room that the holographics did not paint in, where presumably the Antecenturion stood watching over the matriarch of the Rul clan.

The name 'Artorius' was oddly familiar to Mnhei'sahe and she paused on it for an instant to consider it, her eyebrow raising quizzically at its mention. But she knew the name 'Pajom' much better. Antecenturion Pajom tr'Sahe was the guard on Verelan's Warbird that, during the darker parts of the young Starfleet officer's captivity when Dalia Rendal was in charge, secretly still worked to protect his mistress, Verelan, and Mnhei'sahe as well. While she was imprisoned, Pajom made sure she was fed and hydrated and ultimately even risked his own life and freedom to assist Mnhei'sahe's mother in escaping from her own cell. 

But as the young Romulan man was not visible in the vista, Mnhei'sahe could only assume he was there and turned with a light smile and a respectful nod to where Verelan had looked. "Of that I am extremely glad. I am... considerably aware of the depths of Pajom's loyalty to you, grandmother."

“Good. Then you are aware that while your concern for my well-being is appreciated, you may proceed secure in the knowledge that I am in no danger, and that I am well-guarded at all times.” While the gravity of her statement was there, and the reassurance was put forth, somehow Mnhei’sahe suspected there was more she was not being told, likely in an effort to ‘protect’ her from the truth of the matter. “I am here in the cradle of civilization, the bower from whence the Star Empire sprang. You are the one out in the universe, in peril more often than not.”

"True enough..." Mnhei'sahe said as she looked up and around her, not so much at the projection of her grandmother's Senatorial office on Romulus, but at the great ship she so loved that she rode within. "... but I'm not alone. And while our duties place us in peril from time to time, they are perils worth risking."

Then, the young Starfleet officer spared a warm smile for her kin as she continued, mirroring Verelan's own words from moments ago. "Moving boldly into the future and changing the fate of the galaxy in the process. And, in time, it is my hope that this ship will be able to carry me back to see you again in person. In that better galaxy."

“That is indeed a very worthwhile dream, my granddaughter…. one that I share with you. I would love nothing less…. so let us continue to manage our efforts, shall we? I am sending documentation in the subchannel of this communique that contains the Senate’s… requests… and requirements for the first of the reunification colony set-ups. Also a list of… potential… colonists.” There was much that was unspoken in those pauses, and Verelan hoped that her accomplished descendant would read between the lines and grasp her meaning.

Hearing the pregnant pauses and the specific verbiage, Mnhei'sahe had a feeling that the lists and requests were likely not her own, quite possibly those of members of the Senate less inclined to see their purpose succeed. "Excellent. I will review the information and ensure it reaches the appropriate parties within the Federation. Thank you."

"Of course. Have the Vulcan delegation submitted any requests or requirements as yet? They have not been transmitted through official channels as yet, so I was curious if you had a better idea of their position, given your relationship with the representative?" This was, of course, very polite speech for the benefit of other listeners. Having been in a mind-meld with Sonak, the Kolinahr who had freed Verelan along with Mhei'sahe Dox, the elder stateswoman knew exactly who he was- after all, some small part of him would always reside within her now, just as amongst the multitudes he had encountered, a small fragment of her own Katra now resided in the Vulcan master of logic. Thus she knew him as she knew few others, as she did her granddaughter through his mental disciplines. But Verelan was too canny to just give that away, and relied on the sensible use of vagaries and speaking of the culture rather than the man, she deflected attention, as both parties knew that, despite their precautions, there were eavesdroppers.

Munching popcorn, the somewhat omnipresent yet still youthful embodiment of the composite synthetic life form Kodria nodded to herself. Hovering in the 'quarters' within the information space of the Hera's systems that Maru had offered her, in order to have her own space and privacy. Deep within the system, she sat watching multiple screens at once, but focused on this particular one as she replayed it for herself. "She totally means Sonak. Ooooh, I wonder if when she dies in this timeline, if he'll carry her Katra to Auntie Mnhei'sahe?"

Back in the holodeck, oblivious to Kodria's audience, Mnhei'sahe replied. "I've heard very little and nothing official, regarding the Vulcan position- other than what is already known. They are supporting the Federation, and have proposed the options for neutral, third party arbitration. But outside of the details that were in my last report, I have not been made aware of any further developments in that regard." Mnhei'sahe spoke of Sonak's suggestion to contact the Organians that were included in the written report she sent along with her verbal presentation, but knew that the Federation was still debating that, and didn't mention the enigmatic race by name. Following her grandmother's lead, she did not want to give away what might not be known.

"My feeling is that the Vulcans may be waiting to see what the Senate and the Federation council propose, then react to that. However, I can inquire further, and report to you again with more news when I have it," the perpetually anxious young officer replied, hoping she was continuing to keep up with her far more seasoned and experienced grandmother, who navigated politics in her sleep.

"That seems a prudent course. Well done, Representative. Again, I commend you... you've taken well to politics. One might even say it suits you," the sly old Romulan senator cocked an eyebrow slightly, a prim smile settling on her face that spoke of maternal pride.

"While my training under your tutelage was brief, I have worked to take it to heart and learn from that time. I only hope to continue to do justice to your teachings." Mnhei'sahe replied with a bow, maintaining a professional posture in spite of feeling more than a bit of that pride coming through that slight shift in her grandmother's expression. Politics might have been the last thing on the young Romulan woman's mind when she first set foot on the Hera, but she found herself slightly taken aback at how much she had meant what she had just said. In spite of herself and the circumstances of their disastrous first meeting, she still strove to please the woman she had never known growing up, learned to fear, and eventually to respect. 

It was a pattern she would eventually recognize. But for today, both women silently basked in the moment, until the call terminated.

 

Making her way through the corridors of her home, the U.S.S. Hera, Mnhei’sahe Dox’s mind was racing in multiple directions as fast as the pace with which the young Romulan Lieutenant Commander was walking. Coming from her office on the Flight Deck, having just gone over a host of files regarding the Hera’s recent mission to the Romulan reunification colony world of Mol Krun’chi, her head was swimming with the details of politics and diplomacy. Details that were still new things for the burdened pilot to try and wrap her head around.

She was on her way to the observation deck to meet with the ship’s Chief Science Officer, Lieutenant Commander Sonak, on the request of her grandmother. A senior Senator of the Romulan Star Empire, Verelan tr'Rul was a powerful woman who had spearheaded the current initiative of the empire to reach out to their hidden reunification colonies and find peace. It was considered a risky experiment with many detractors in the Senate, but Dox's Grandmother was a uniquely persuasive politician.

And it was the level of persuasion that Dox found herself fixated on as she headed to the ships Observation Deck, where the Kolinahr master was meditating, having just come off duty. Sonak was, of course, also Dox's master in the continued training of her mind’s mental defenses and nascent psionic potential. It was a status that gave the wisened Vulcan a unique perspective into the young Romulan woman's mind. And that mind was conflicted.

When she agreed to volunteer in her newfound capacity as a mediator between Starfleet and her Grandmother, it was reluctantly at first. But now, after a measure of success in their first mission and two holographic communications with Verelan since, she found herself embracing the role. Though, in the back of her mind, she knew that was exactly what her grandmother wanted.

And Dox was giving it to her willingly and with a measure of genuine enthusiasm that now worried her the more she thought of it. Having been denied family connections all her life, she knew it was a weakness of hers. A chink in her armor that made her overly desire approval from authority figures.

Authority figures like her superior officer, who was in a meditative state in the lounge, waiting.As the young, red-headed officer entered the otherwise unoccupied room, she folded her arms behind her back and waited patiently. She knew Sonak was aware she had entered, and would address her in a moment, and she didn't want to disturb him.

Sonak had perceived her emotional state and even her surface thoughts from her unguarded mind as she entered the deck. When in a meditative state, his telepathy was even stronger than usual, which has been reawakening recently. In this state, it required effort to curb it down so as not to infringe on the privacy of others and as a welcomed added exercise in disciplining his naturally inquisitive mind. But now that he was aware of her and her concerns, he would not be duplicitous with her.

Especially with her. She prided herself as his student, something he was somewhat baffled by, as he considered he was learning as much from her as she from him. But regardless of emotions felt, or not felt, such a relationship was mutually enlightening but most of all built on trust; and trust was built on honesty and truth.

He did not open his eyes or turn his head as he spoke.

''Greetings, Lieutenant Commander. You are concerned about Reunification and wish to discuss the matter.'' he simply said.

Within her own mind, Dox was vaguely aware of Sonak's presence in no small part thanks to his training that has enabled her to defend her mind when needed. But with Sonak, that was never a need and so her defenses were down. She had come to talk to him, after all, and hiding her emotional state would, ironically, be illogical. Or at least, that was how she thought of it in the moment as she replied. "Hello, Commander. Yes, I had a number of questions and, yes, concerns."

As she usually did with the logical and balanced science officer, her posture remained at low attention. She felt that it helped her maintain her own focus. "Initially, I have been asked by Senator t'Rul in our correspondence earlier to inquire as to the current status of the Vulcan position on our recent mission and if there were any specific requests or requirements of the government beyond what was initially discussed."

Sonak was, of course, intimately aware of the young Romulan pilot's relationship with the Senator in question, having used his own mind to facilitate a mind-meld between the three so that they could help free Verelan's mind from the external control of the Tal'Shiar. As he had been within Mnhei'sahe's mind, he too had been within Verelan's.

He opened his eyes and invited her to sit with him as he was pondering her inquiry.

''Reunification is more than just two planets negotiating a relationship. It involves in fact both our interplanetary civilizations, which not so long ago were bitter competitors and then reluctant allies against a common foe before one rogue Romulan faction tried to destroy Humanity's homeworld. Reunification itself is no mere negotiation either; it is the attempt of what once a single species to renew ties after millennia of ignoring each other and now wishing for contact without losing one's own sovereignty or identity. And all this amidst the socio-political history I delineated before. This makes matters quite complicated.''

He was stating the obvious. But as a scientist, it was natural for him to establish the basic assumptions of a situation before addressing a problem.

'' As I am not in the official circles of diplomacy, there may be much I am not aware of, even as I was lately entrusted by both Vulcan and Federation High Councils with preliminary contacts in your company. So far, Vulcan's stance has not changed after our last effort; Vulcan is open to the project but defers as should be to the Federation High Council as for the details and feasibility.''

He paused to let her process this before resuming while she spared a slight smile and sat next to him, folding her legs with a nod.

''As a Starfleet officer, I am however much aware of concerns going above and beyond the sole situation of Vulcan; orders from Starfleet Command that can and will certainly hamper reunification efforts; and I can safely assume a similar situation from the Romulan side, of which I can only be superficially acquainted with. There will be concerns with security and safety within each one's borders and, on the part of the Romulan Senate, we should expect concerns at least from some parties about defection, territorial infringement, and cultural contamination.''

He paused a moment to let the data sink in before continuing.

''I think that the best course of action for the moment is for you to pose specific questions and we will see if we can either find a proper answer together or a proper source to address it.''

Looking out the windows into the vista of the cosmos that was spread before them both, Dox took a moment. "At least one of my questions you've already answered, regarding your lack of involvement in the direct circles of diplomacy. In truth, that was in line with my... supposition when the Senator asked me as I'm also not privy to the specifics of what the Senate is discussing."

"I know that there's still some debate over trying to contact the Organians. Have there been any other suggestions or ideas concerning a third party arbitration?" she asked.

''Not to my knowledge. I agree involving the Organians is the most far-fetched option; the ultimate one, so to speak. But we have yet to hear the Empire propose its own option and name a mediator, undoubtedly a more easily accessible one; one they would consider acceptable. It just might so happen that we might find it so as well.''

Thinking on his words, Mnhei'sahe tried relaxing a bit, as Sonak seems to be able to keep meditating AND discuss the issue simultaneously. Her mind, of course, was nowhere near as disciplined and it continues to race. "In the interim, it may behoove all parties to continue to ask the Artan fleet to stay involved. They aren't neutral, to be sure, but they also still have active trade with the Star Empire, so there is some measure of a relationship."

"I wish I had more to tell the Senate that was substantive, but I still feel very out of my depth in all of this." Mnhei'sahe admitted, awkwardly. Her feelings were pure emotion, but she was hoping a little dispassionate logic might help calm her racing mind. "In spite of how much the senator... my grandmother... may wish to change it, politics don't come naturally to me."

''I share your position, if only from my own specific perspective, '' Sonak confessed. ''I am a scientist and I am a Vulcan. Politics outside of Vulcan is much more an affair of passion than one of reason. Thus, it is entirely out of my field... to put it colloquially. And when diplomacy involves as much passion, fear and emotional suspicion as it does here, even if only from one side, I am just as inept to address it.''

He did not retell his personal experience with such incapacity; his recent argument with Rita his wife, where he so miserably failed at meeting her needs with his emotionless logic. This was much a part of his current meditations, as he was simply at a loss to correct his obvious error with her. But as always, so she taught him a precious lesson he could be tempted to forget; logic also had its limits. Thanks to her, he was now a bit more able to navigate within them; at least recognize where he has reached his limit.

And here, it should prove invaluable in helping his fellow crewmate with the heavy burden she had been entrusted with.

''if I may be so bold to suggest, what you could tell the Senate is that Vulcan is as intrigued and willing for Reunification as those among their people who are so inclined; and that the Federation Council is as wary and mindful of the consequences as the Imperial Senate is. This could be the common ground on which an agreement might be reached or at least started on.''

An awkward smile creased the chubby cheeks of the young Romulan woman and she let out a light sigh. "Thank you. In truth, that's not far from what I said earlier just on speculation and what I already knew. I... suppose I'm better at navigating this than I thought. She certainly seems... pleased so far."

Then, her tone shifted down slightly. "Which might be part of what I can't stop running around in my head. If... If I may express a more... personal concern... my involvement in Romulan politics is a large part of what my grandmother was attempting to groom me for during my abduction."

"The idea that I could eventually succeed her in the Senate, as such positions are inherited and I'm her legal heir. When you helped me free her mind on Romulus, she understood finally that I had to return. But she's still angling to find a way to get me back. This time, on my own terms, but nevertheless she's still... still grooming me in essence. And in truth, I'm allowing it."

"It's a way to keep that connection with her. With family. And the longer we are engaged in this, the more invested I feel in not disappointing her. And I'm concerned with what that means." Mnhei'sahe finished, leaving that concern hovering out there between the two.

Sonak lifted an eyebrow and nodded.

''This is a rather unique opportunity. If you so choose, you might indeed be a pillar of this bridge between two people long lost among the stars... if not two galactic civilizations. A worthy endeavor... but only if you so choose... and it should be on your own terms. Destiny is only what you will make of it, and no one else. The destiny of an entire people should not rest on any one individual, but on all of us.''

He brought his grey eyes into hers.

''If now or later this is a contribution you are wishing to invest yourself in, what your grandmother is providing you will logically prove valuable. If not, you may then convey this duty yourself to the next worthy individual. Thus her efforts would not be lost... and your destiny still in your own hands. One way or another, you are given an opportunity. It is up to you to seize it or not and how you want to avail or not avail yourself of it.''

His hands went to the stars scintillating beyond the transparency.

''This universe was here long before any of us existed; and it will be here long after we are gone. It will be as it should be no matter; it is what we do in between that matters, not for the universe but for those we care for, be it friend, family or people. But it is not for the stars to decide; it is for you and me and each and everyone of us.''

The reply was more poetic then the young pupil would have expected from her master, but it's meaning was clear nonetheless. Her path was still her own and up to her to decide and those decisions had to be right for her. "It is a unique opportunity. It's hard to think of it as anything else. When my grandmother realized that I wouldn't willingly give up my life here. With the Hera. With Mona and the children on the way, she let me go. But in doing so, she immediately began working to find a compromise. And who knows... maybe I was doing the same when I volunteered to act as a bridge with her during my debriefing back on Earth."

Looking out into the stars, her mind started to find it's center again, calmed by Sonak's straightforward way of thinking. "If we're all successful, then one day that world might not be closed off anymore. I've... I've felt guilty for a long time now for wanting to return there. This way, I may be able to do so eventually and still maintain my life here. My career. My new family. As always, thank you Trensu."

Calling him the Vulcan word for a master teacher, Dox nodded as she sat there. In the moment, Sonak's logic seemed to almost come from a place of emotion, a thing she knew to be impossible for a Kolinahr. But never the less, she was curious as to what felt like a second meaning to his words earlier. "Forgive me if I'm speaking out of line, but... are you all right. You seem... I don't know if 'troubled' is the right word. More introspective than usual, perhaps?"

''We all have our challenges in this existence, '' he replied with his usual deep but toneless voice.'' A master is only someone who has walked a path long enough to understand something of it; but the path is without end and so is learning. And there are many paths one might take... or miss. Just like you, I too must choose and assume my choices and make the best out of them. As in a chess game, sometimes, one makes a wrong move; but the game continues. And that what matters.''

He knew he was being cryptic, that he was not telling her exactly what she wanted to know. Although he could not feel it, he could perceive her concern for him and understand it. But, even at the best of times, burdening her with his personal concerns was improper. It was his responsibility to assume his choices correctly.

He looked at her.

''Your concern is appreciated, but do not burden yourself. Every problem has a solution. And sometimes, the solution is simply to not make it a problem. So here I believe the proper response is; do not worry I... feel fine.''

Raising an eyebrow, Dox understood that whatever was bothering Sonak was something he didn't wish to discuss, and she wasn't going to challenge him or press the issue. "Okay. But as a matter of course, I burden myself with everyone's problems even when I don't know what they are. I'm a terrible Romulan that way. So if you decide that another possible solution is to talk about it, know that it is not a burden to do so."

In spite of knowing that the little joke in the middle of her reply was unnecessary, considering who she was talking with, she offered a smile nonetheless. "That said, I thank you for you assistance in helping me work through my burden. It has been helpful to review the situation from a different perspective."

Sonak nodded.

'' I shall avail myself of your offer the moment it appears as the logical option. How we can help one another is part of what gives life meaning.''

"I would very much agree with that. Both logically and emotionally." Dox replied as she closed her eyes, sitting next to her superior officer, teacher and mentor in many respects. Her mind was finally calm enough for her to find her focus. And as such, she had more she wished to discuss with the man. Specifically on the exact subject of his tutelage of her.

Talking, she always found that she took on a very different demeanor in private, with Sonak, then she did with her other crewmembers. The affectations she learned during her time on Earth that made it easier to blend in with humans tended to evaporate a bit, and the more controlled woman that was raised with military discipline by a stern taskmistress of a mother came out more freely.

"If I may, I would also ask something further. But not about the political situation. In regards to my ongoing training... with you." Dox's tone was neutral as she concentrated on her breathing and relaxed.

''You have done remarkable progress in your personal growth, especially beyond any training regimen. It is but logical that you consider new steps in personal achievement.''

"When you first began working with me, it was in meditative training. Helping me to calm my mind and find focus when I first discovered many of the aspects of my past that had been hidden from me. Then, after I discovered the opening of some of the doors of potential in my mind, you were invaluable in helping me learn to control that. To guard my mind against the invasion of others." Dox said, still calm as she recounted a bit of their shared history. "But, over the last months since my recovery from ch'Rihan... from Romulus... I have thought long on that training that not only enabled me to protect my mind from the Tal'Shiar's machine, but that helped us free both my Grandmother's mind and that of the young Lieutenant on the Golden Ghost."

"In the past, my sole focus was on learning to defend my mind. But in sharing those defensive skills the way we did. In helping others that way... I believe that I would like to continue to develop those skills further, if even possible."

Sonak nodded.

''Because of your Starfleet training, which is the crowning achievement of the expertise of a hundred worlds, preliminary steps of traditional approaches were skipped when we addressed your needs with Vulcan mental disciplines. But I agree there is also much to gain with other types of training. What do you have in mind?''

Considering her reply, Dox thought for a moment. "When the Gaia incident occurred and the door to my mind was closed, it cut me off from the empathic bond I had with Lieutenant Gonadie. It was… traumatic. And it took months to rebuild that bond."

"The techniques I've practiced with her are predominantly Miradonian ones, but it has enabled me to expand my basic capabilities." She elaborated a bit, filling him on some of the details of the last few months. "Just before the abduction, I was able to establish a very brief connection with my mother to where I could feel her emotional state while touching. Considering that, and what we accomplished, it has… changed my perspective on expanding those skills."

"I think that aside from simply focusing on defense and discipline… I would like to expand my ability to reach outward."

This close, Sonak's slowly returning enhanced telepathy could have taken it out of her thoughts. But simple decency forbade it. There were several logical conclusions he could come up with based on what he knew; but that would be directing, something he was not willing to do. And so he simply asked her.

''What do you have in mind?''

"The... specifics, I couldn't say. But, I've thought considerably about what would have happened to my grandmother if you hadn't been on that platform on Romulus to link our minds." Her voice trembled ever so slightly on the memory and all the emotional baggage still connected to that time as she spoke. "On her ship, after Riov Rendal altered her mind... forced her to be her puppet. She couldn't fight back. I could see the pain on her face every day as she had to do whatever Rendal told her. We had been alone at that time only once."

"We sat together in that gilded cage and I couldn't touch her mind. I tried. I tried, but I didn't know how. I... I don't even know if it would ever be possible, no matter how much training I had. But I want to try. I want to try so that if I'm ever in that position again, I won't be powerless to help."

"I don't know if it's possible. I'm not Vulcan. But I want to try and learn how to Mind Meld."

Sonak pondered for a moment. Then he nodded, more to himself than to her.

''A few millennia of isolation in a different environment can naturally alter one species from its original source. We can see this in the cranial bone structure of Romulans and their less sturdy and vigorous physiology because of life on a much less harsh planet than Vulcan. But the unrestricted capability of Vulcans and Romulans to naturally produce viable offsprings is direct evidence that this speciation has not yet definitely separated them. And the psychological life conditions on Romulus are not that significantly different from what was known on Vulcan before the Sundering; competing factions driven by passion. I did not do the proper medical research, but barring deliberate manipulation, the modern Romulan brain should not be significantly that different from the Vulcan brain.''

He nodded this time to her.

''By all logic, your ability to learn Vulcan mental techniques should not be that much worse than that of the average Vulcan. Mind melding is not a natural capability but one that is learned. Even a Half-Vulcan, Half-Human hybrid can perform them with utmost efficiency. if you so choose, we could explore that possibility together.''

"I would... greatly appreciate the opportunity to do so, Commander." Mnhei'sahe replied with a light smile as she resumed her meditative practice, sitting next to the serene Vulcan she so admired.

Sonak looked at the stars.

''There are... always... possibilities.''

“Wake up, Lieutenant Dox. It’s time for you to wake up.” Came the voice that seemed to drag across Mnhei’sahe Dox’s mind like nails on a chalkboard as the world came back into focus. She was in a familiar room and she felt a dull, numb sensation pressing around her neck and arms as she tried to move and failed.

Blinking, she was met with a familiar and wholly unwelcome sight. The grinning face of Riov Dalia Rendal. Struggling for a moment, the young Romulan woman couldn’t move and felt panic begging to set in. Above her were a series of lights that seemed a little too dim as the royal Riov tilted her head to keep her face in front of Dox’s wandering eyes. “What’s wrong, Lieutenant? Are you surprised to see me? You are wondering what’s going on, aren’t you? You were back on your quaint little starship, weren’t you?”

Her voice was hoarse and dry as she struggled to speak, feeling weakness deep inside her bones. “I don’t… I shouldn’t be here… I… I escaped… I made it… I made it… ho…”

“Home? Oh, you are home Lieutenant Dox. You’ve been home for five months, here in my care on ch’Rihan. Here on Romulus, Lieutenant.” The smug voice stretched out as Mnhei’sahe’s eyes finally focused. She was in a large, round room. Surrounding her was a bank of workstations and monitors with uniformed Romulans working at them. Above her, was a series of cables that moved as she tilted her head.

“No… NO! That’s not TRUE!!!” The sense of mounting panic was threatening to boil over in the young woman as she realized she was still strapped to the cold metal chair of the Neural Extraction Converter machine like she had been on her Grandmother’s Warbird five months ago. “I beat this! I… I DID!! This isn’t… this isn’t REAL!! It’s can’t be…”

“Real? Of course this is real. But it was amusing for a time to allow you to believe that you beat the most advanced neural conversion technology the Star Empire had ever developed. We plugged you into a machine designed to enter the mind, implant new memories and experiences and you, what, defeated it because you are so strong and skilled?” Rendal’s cruel voice seemed to echo from every direction as Mnhei’sahe tried to pull against the restraints that pressed cold against her wrists and neck.

“NOOOO!!!! STOP!!! I did!!! I made it out! I got away!!! They saved me!!! They did!!!” Mnhei’sahe began to scream as tears flooded her cheeks.

“Oh, Lieutenant, that was exactly the scenario we programmed into your quaint little mind. We gave you everything you wanted to see happen. Your gallant Captain and oh-so noble friends coming to save you. Your lovely little promotion. Your mother, alive and well. Your pathetic, avian wife on that ship of yours. We wrote the life you wanted. We let you pretend to go back and resume your pedantic duties, showing us everything we wanted to see. Command codes. The Hera’s defensive capabilities. Crew rosters. Everything, my dear Lieutenant.” Rendal said with a dark chuckle as the grabbed Mnhei’sahe by the face and leaned in.

“But you are here. And you are mine, my little apprentice. And now… you will serve me as such.” The woman’s face twisted into a dark sneer, “We will reactivate the machine, and give you a new program. We will remake you into the perfect Romulan officer. You will be a loyal, noble daughter of a powerful house. You will succeed your grandmother in the senate after serving the military with distinction. You will show us exactly where that colony of traitors is hiding, and you will lead the ship that will wipe that stain from the face of the imperium. Say goodbye to Lieutenant Dox… Mnhei’sahe t’Rul.”

Then, Rendal’s voice vanished, stepping away as she let go of Mnhei’sahe’s face and the embattled young woman’s grandmother, Verelan t’Rul, stepped into view before her. Wearing a long black robe, she looked as regal and strong as she always had, but her eyes were cold and distant as she spoke in a dull, listless tone. “You weren’t strong enough to save me, Granddaughter. You weren’t strong enough to save yourself. You won’t be strong enough to save the people of Mol Krun’chi. But at least this way… Dalia’s way… we can be together. Together as we should have always been.”

Slowly, Verelan held out her hand to take Mnhei’sahe’s. Wanting to pull away and run, Mnhei’sahe instead watched as her own hands came forward, no longer bound. On her arms were the black and gray checkerboard pattern of a Romulan uniform top as she took her grandmother’s cold hands.

“NOOOOOO!!!!” Mnhei’sahe screamed in terror, flailing wildly as her hands were suddenly free again and the room went dark. Suddenly, the cold metal of the chair was gone and she felt warm fabric running around her as she heard her own voice echoing in her ears as she shot up from her bed.

Reaching to her side, Mona wasn’t there. She was alone as her mind raced to catch up with her body as she felt around in the darkness. “C… Computer, l… lights! Lights!”

With a chirp, the room’s lights came back on and she was back in her quarters on the Hera. “Computer, what time is it?”

=^=Current time is 22:42 hours.=^=

“Thank you.” Mnhei’sahe said as she caught her breath and reoriented herself. Mona was working late in the R&D lab on converting their breakroom into some kind of ejectable life raft for the department’s daycare services. She had just decided to lay down and read some possible crew transfer requests as the Flight Department was low on pilots and must have dozed off.

Then she had the dream again. The dream she hadn’t had since she was on the Golden Ghost just following her rescue. The same dream, where she had never escaped Romulus.

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

Five minutes later, Mnhei’sahe Dox stood alone in Flight Deck two of the Hera, in front of her small, J-Type freighter called the Khallianen. The ship that carried herself, Mona and her mother to the restaurant where she was kidnapped. The ship that carried her to the facility on Mars where Asa Dael had been tortured. The ship that always seemed to carry her someplace horrible.

Before the kidnapping, she used to enjoy coming here to work on the ship. To tinker with its engines or tweak its systems. It relaxed her to have something she could control and work on when her mind wanted to close in on itself. But since the kidnapping, she hadn’t set foot inside it. It was too connected to everything that had happened during her month-long captivity. Her torture. The murder of her father. Rendal.

So there she stood, looking at the thing she chose to symbolize all of the things that were running around in her brain. Her strained relationship with her Senator grandmother who continued to try and manipulate her into service to the Romulan Star Empire. Dalia Rendal, still out there plotting against her and her family. Still alive, with the blood of her father on her sword. In her hand, Dox carried a large spanner wrench she had grabbed from the nearby workbench.

Stepping up the ramp onto the small ship, a gift to her from the Artan Pirate family when she was officially named a Baroness, it had since become a symbol of everything in her life that threatened to pull her away from her home on the Hera. In truth, it was just a ship. But as she stood in the darkness of its interior cabin, the only light being that which streamed in from the open door and the windshield, she saw everything she hated.

She saw Dalia Rendal calling her 'apprentice' in front of her Captain with that callous grin she so often had. She saw her grandmother trying to pull her from Mona and Starfleet. She saw all the hands pulling her in every direction all at once. Rita, Enalia, her Mother, Masato Rei, and Charybdis. Starfleet. The Empire. Everyone with an agenda for her future. Everyone, no matter how well-meaning, making her feel pulled thin enough to snap. Her grip tightened on the wrench as she felt her eyes going hot and could hear her rapid Romulan pulse throbbing wildly behind her ears.

With a grunt and a shout, the tension finally boiled over. All of the pain and the fear and the anguish that had been building in her for months since her captivity exploded as she slammed the wrench hard into the control console of the ship’s cockpit. Sparks flew as the panel exploded before her, spraying hot across her olive skin as she swung again.

Again and again, she swung hard, screaming in rage the entire time. The lights in the cabin flickering on and off as the ship’s systems activated and deactivated with each impact of the slowly bending wrench. Her arms began to burn as sweat collected on her brow and tears streaked down her cheeks before finally dropping the wrench to the deckplates and collapsing to her knees, in tears.

Having shared part of the dream with her mate from across the ship through their telepathic bond, only to discover Dox destroying the controls of her personal ship, Mona could only stand there for a moment, tears on her own finely feathered cheeks before waddling up the ramp to lean against her wife and sink to her knees, her arms wrapped around the love of her life and squeezing as best she could. "It'll be ok. The nightmares... They never fully go away... But... you learn to live with them, you know? Eventually... Eventually, they have fewer teeth."

With her own sense of reality shaken by the nightmare that still lingered in the corner of her mind, Dox turned to clutch tightly to Mona. Their telepathic and empathic bond, the only thing she knew in her soul was real as she felt the emotions of her bond-mate and their three, unborn children flood into her.

The brightly plumed Miradonian woman was her anchor. The memory that kept her sane and whole during her captivity and the constant that she used to chart her course, like an ancient mariner using the stars to navigate. So long as she had Mona, she was still herself. So long as she had Mona, she knew who she still was.

Feeling the distress of their Romulan mother, the three chicks almost ready to be born in Mona's belly began the thrum, sending our their own waves of comforting energy to their mothers. But feeling it, Mnhei'sahe simply held herself tighter to Mona, tears streaking down her cheeks. "I... I don't know what to do. It's... it's too much... It's too much, Mona! I... I... I can't do it. I can't... I just... I just want to run away. Run away with you and... and forget everything else. I don't know how to be what everyone wants me to be."

"How about..." Mona began, the wheels in her head turning with a plan she'd been thinking of for a little while now. "You let me and the girls fix up the Khallianen, make a few design changes to make it more family-friendly, and I'll finish planning our trip to Miradonia so that includes a vacation? We can spend a couple weeks touring the capital city Miradon, visit the countryside, see the singing cliffs, you can see the orphanage I grew up in. And then we can end at the aeries and bring our lovely chicks into the universe. How does that sound?"

With the tears beginning to slow, and her mind opening back up after feeling as if it had collapsed upon itself, Mnhei'sahe sat back a little to wipe her cheeks dry. With a nervous chuckle, the exhausted Romulan pilot smiled at how easily her wife seemed to be able to refocus her anxiety and take away her stress with a few words. To Mona, every problem seemed to be little more than a speed bump to be worked around with the slightest of tweaks. Nothing was impossible for the inventive, enthusiastic avian who was thrumming a soothing vibration of her own energy into Mnhei'sahe as she spoke.

In truth, the embattled young Romulan hadn't had a break since just before their wedding. Immediately after being freed from her captivity, she spent two weeks being grilled by Starfleet intelligence and then given the legendary Sword of S'task from the retired Starfleet Admiral and Romulan expatriate, Charybdis MacGreggor. Immediately after that, she returned to duty only to be promoted and sent off to help negotiate with a colony of Romulan reunificationists which left her linked through her grandmother to the Senate of the Star Empire. Then, there was the revelations of her relationship to Masato Rei, and the dark woman who was the embodiment of Death itself, who had chosen Mnhei'sahe to be her possible successor. She hadn't had a chance to breathe and just be.

But with Mona, none of that was important. With Mona, she could just be a wife and a lover. A mother to be. Not a Commander or a Romulan representative. Not the savior of the Star Empire or the successor to Death. Just a woman in the arms of her love, with nothing else to worry about but that. The relief it gave Mnhei'sahe was beyond belief in that moment as her shoulders sunk and she let herself be weak.

"You... you always know how to work things out, don't you? You just... you see through it all like it wasn't even there." Mnhei'sahe said, her voice cracked and broken from screaming. "That sounds... that sounds wonderful, really."

"Well, I've had a bit of practice," Mona replied, holding her bond-mate and wife as tight as she could. "It's also one of my failings though, if you haven't noticed. I plan so well for the future that often the present gets neglected and the past comes back to haunt me."

"Well... and I do tend to give you plenty to plan for and worry about." Mnhei'sahe said, wiping her nose on her sleeve. "I'm... I'm sorry."

"No, don't say sorry," Mona replied softly, planting birdie kisses on Dox. "Say thank you. Always say thank you. And thank you for being here and loving me."

Holding Mona tight, Mnhei'sahe began to cry again. This time, softly as she nodded and quietly whispered. "T... thank you."

Leaning back in her chair, Sarika sighed in relief as the Hera's tractor locked onto her small shuttle. She could have taken any number of methods of getting to the large vessel that would have been faster, like her actual cruiser, but it was wrapped up in a survey mission right now, and she didn't want to pull it away from a once in a lifetime stellar event. Besides, the Bastilla's docking ports weren't exactly Federation standard, so she'd have probably end up having to transport over or something. Best not think about that...

Rather, she thought about the humanoid cyber body in the co-pilot seat next to her. It was far from perfect as a prototype, but she was happy with where it was, and how far she had gotten with it. The issue she had with holographics was that they needed emitters and lenses and all this other hardware, as well as a core with lots of power. But with a little help from one of the Queen's crew - her Yeoman or something, she had been able to miniaturize the holomatrix core sufficiently to build it into one of her cybernetic servant cores and build enough of those emitters into it that she was pretty sure that her Adjutant initiative vehicular assistant project could begin testing.

Hence why Sarika had placed her new Second in charge of her fleet, at least until she got back. Because she certainly didn’t plan on spending more time than necessary aboard the USS Hera.

Sighing again as her shuttle thunked against the deck plates, she tapped the environmental controls to release the seals and open the large rear door. She then grabbed her large military style cap, plonked it on top of her head and headed to the rear ramp to greet the Queen’s fleeter friends, who in her experience were not exactly welcoming to Artan privateers.

Waiting for her on the flight deck was an oddity, one she had met somewhat in passing thus far, but from whom she could already sense the disapproval. Fleeters tended to have a stick jammed up their backsides all the way to their brains, with few exceptions. This one looked born for that mindset. Wearing a uniform that consisted of a long-sleeved minidress with a skirt that didn’t make it halfway to her knees that nobody else she’d seen wearing, the buxom blonde Amazon was patiently looking out from under her brows expectantly, with a PaDD clasped behind her back.

“Baroness Sarika?” she asked with a pleasant enough smile.

"The one and only," she replied, pausing just at the end of the ramp of her shuttle, her face scrunched up as she tried to remember something important. She then raised one finger into the air and walked back into her shuttle for a moment to disarm herself, pulling several phaser pistols out of her uniform and stowing them. She also took the katana from her belt and stowed that under one of the benches.

Returning to the ramp, she thought for a moment longer before nodding, her face still scrunched up in thought. "Yes, that's it, I'm disarmed. Ah... Fleeter protocol... Baroness Sarika of the Artan Privateer Empire, requesting permission to board the Queen's Royal Vessel."

“While it’s appreciated, there’s no need to disarm to board, Miss Sarika,” Paris explained with a slightly bemused expression. “You are here operating as the Captain’s adjunct to the Artan Privateers. That being said, you are considered somewhat of an ambassador- thus many of the rules and regulations of Starfleet don’t directly apply to you, and that would be one of them. Hopefully you don’t need the weaponry, but you are under no obligation to divest yourself of them.”

“As for permission to come aboard, permission granted, although while she is the Artan queen, the USS Hera is a Starfleet vessel, not the Queen’s Royal Vessel despite her presence and command. One of those dualities of her existence that can be a bit perplexing at times. So, with all of that said, hello… I’m Rita Paris, the First Officer of the Hera. Welcome aboard,” Paris smiled and offered her hand in greeting.

"We met briefly, I believe. For the tribunal." With a grin, Sarika extended her own cybernetic hand and accepted the handshake, the cold plasteel a stark contrast from Rita's warm flesh. "I'm glad those traitorous bitches got what they deserved and I heard that you gave that bitch queen her just deserts personally, may she rest in peace. To think that my own Second was a spy for her."

At the first mention of the word ‘bitches’, the nose of the pretty woman wrinkled, and at the mention of the death of the Artan queen at her hands, it was clear that Sarika had brought up a sore subject for the Starfleet officer. When she had spoken before, there was warmth and cheerfulness in her voice, and a smile on her face. That was now gone, and in it’s place it was abundantly clear that this was now all cold professionalism. “Yes… an unpleasant business all around. Shall I show you to your quarters?”

Having noticed the change, Sarika paused and studied the golden dressed Commander for a moment before replying. "I'm going to have to mind my words while aboard, aren't I? Should I grab my own luggage and the Aiva prototype or will you have someone bring them later?"

Stopping where she was, Paris slowly pivoted in place. "I... dislike that word. Considerably. In my time, if a woman spoke her mind or was opinionated or successful, that's what they called her. Or we were warned not to be one... always to smile, be polite and accommodating so as not to be taken for a shrewish woman. I would personally appreciate some restraint, if you can find it within yourself, in regard to that particular word. I know how to curse like a sailor, as do we all, and there's a time and a place. We're adults, and this can be a stressful life. But that word in particular, Miss Sarika... I will admit, I do object."

The cyber-pirate couldn't help but look up at the buxom lass strangely. "Bitches? That's... oddly not where I expected you to object. I suppose that's where our cultures differ though. For me, being raised a slave, those that were loyal and earned their place and their keep were good... Well, I think you get the picture."

She then grew a bit morose as she looked down at her arms. "I... Well, I lost my arms and eyes early on in a smelting accident. The only reason I survived was because Another slave gave me an eye and Enalia bought me straight up. I had a knack for geological scanners and she needed someone like that I guess."

She then gripped her metallic hands tightly and looked around at the rest of the flight deck, trying to blink the moisture in her eyes away. "Ach! The air is dry in here! I'll need a humidifier in my quarters. As for my language, I'll do my best."

"Just that, really. Curse, although try to- well, no, the kids on this ship swear and their parents swear in front of them to teach them. So really... just that one word. That's all I chafe at, I think. If you'd like to call someone something in particular, that's between you and them. Beyond that..." The anachronistic officer eyed the cyber pirate with no small degree of guilt evident.

"Arenara Artan's death was an accident. I fully meant to stun her. On my honor I just..." Gazing off for a second, Paris caught herself, and drew herself erect once more, the stiff posture of an officer. "I was cleared, but... I'll be frank with you, it still... well, it's not something I intended at all. I know you meant it as a compliment, and I do appreciate that. But... I didn't mean to kill her. So I take no pride in it... I'm guessing you can understand that?"

As the silver haired cyber pirate gazed up at the Starfleet bombshell, she saw the truth of it in her eyes, as well as a bit of herself. "Aye, I can understand that. You did your duty as best you could in the heat of the moment, from the report I read, and while I think she got what she deserved, I also know there's no pride to be taken in taking the life of another. It's one of the reasons the flagship of my fleet is covered in sensor arrays and built for scientific discovery, and not for combat."

"Though with all that's happened with the Tribunal," Sarika continued, glancing around and rolling her shoulders as if trying to stretch them as if she hadn't relaxed properly in ages. "I'm one of the Baronesses folding the ships and crew of the traitorous ones into her fleet and the logistics... On top of training a new Second... Following up on the trials and voting on executions or not... Keeping the Queen apprised of everything..."

"So, with all due respect..." Sarika then pulled off her cap and bowed respectfully. "I humbly apologize for the offense I have caused. It's my hope to learn more about the fleeters that the Queen... Enalia... Spends..." She then set her hat back on her head and sighed heavily, her cheeks slightly red with frustration - she was definitely not a diplomat. "I wanna learn more about you bi... People! Damn it!"

Clasping the woman on the shoulder, Paris beamed a smile at the pirate. "I'd like that. No offense was meant, so none caused. We just communicated a bit, that was all. Please don't let it concern you, and let's put it behind us. And I recognize your efforts already- thank you. It's considerate of you, and I appreciate it. We'd like to learn more about you as well. Although you were supposed to be bringing aboard some sort of experiment, I believe? I'm not very technologically savvy, so please forgive me for any ignorance I may display."

The shorter woman smiled softly, relief washing over her. "Thank you. Yeah, I've been working with one of my autonomous cyber-servants and a miniaturized holo-matrix to create a... Well, she's a standalone version of the maids on the fortress that I hope can act as a secretary or adjutant for Enalia in regards to Artan business. I should be able to activate her so we don't have to carry her, if you prefer."

"Carrying her sounds awkward, so may as well activate now. So is she an AI or more of a talented droid?" Paris asked solicitously. She might not be able to program or build one, but she understood application.

As Sarika headed back into the shuttle to activate Aiva, she tried to explain what she was in as simple terms as possible. "She's... It... Well, I took a copy of one of the maid units, used some of the data the Queen's yeoman sent me for cybernetics, added secretarial and autonomic subroutines, cobbled the whole thing together... The whole thing isn't as complex as one of your holograms like the EMH or Maica, but she shouldn't be too indistinguishable from a normal person. Plus, with a cyber body as a framework, she can travel freely as long as she's near a plasma based power grid for at least... I think... three or four hours a day?"

With that, she finished her preparations and pressed an indent in the back of the torso, causing the body to shift and the holo-emitters built into it to shimmer to life, creating a holographic form around the framework. Now, rather than a metallic body sitting there, it was one of the Artan fortress's Trill catgirl maids, complete with ears, tail, and maid uniform. "Autonomous Initiative Vehicular Assistant, Aiva one, now online. Please state the nature of the..." The hybrid synthetic life form paused for a moment as if searching for what to say next. "It seems my initial startup instructions are still incomplete."

"That's fine. Welcome aboard the USS Hera. This is Commander Paris, the Queen's Second." Sarika motioned towards the Starfleet vixen as she spoke, prompting Aiva to rise from her seat and bow respectfully. "Ah, sorry. Fleeter terminology is... Executive officer?"

"Yes, that's correct... although personally, I prefer to be referred to as the First Officer. A bit more how it was done in my day, and a bit less like the last person to hold the job," Paris explained, offering a brief nod to Aiva. "Hello there... do you recognize me in your chain of command, Aiva?"

Standing back up, Aiva studied the golden clad commander for just a moment before replying in a soft and rhythmic, yet strangely considerate tone. She was definitely a base copy of one of the Fortress maids, but you could tell there was a lot more added to her just in how she spoke and the little extra animations she had in her face and body. "I have identified you as Commander Paris. You are the Se... You prefer the term First Officer. My apologies, Commander. I am programmed for Artan protocol and etiquette and it will take some time for adjustments to Starfleet."

The hint of a nervous smile as Aiva bowed her head and the slight fidget as she clasped her hands before her definitely set her apart from the regular holo-maids at the fortress by this point. They were designed with precision of movement in mind and didn't even have a pulse or breathe to cut down on processing power. "As for your place in my own command hierarchy, your orders are equal to that of any Baroness and secondary to that of the Quee... The Starfleet data loaded suggests that she prefers the title Captain while aboard her own vessel. Is this correct?"

"That is correct, well done Aiva," Paris replied with a smile, encouraging the android as she would a biological crewman who was onboarding. "Captain Telvan prefers her Starfleet titles and protocols in effect when aboard the Starfleet starship USS Hera. On this ship, I would be secondary to the Captain in authority, and that does likely make me equivalent of any Baroness in that regard. Now, what are your prime directives? Do you obey Asimov's laws?"

The hybrid synthetic being paused a moment to process the question before answering. "Ah, Asimov's laws are referenced in the morality subroutines that have been loaded into my core programming. They are there as a reference to guide me rather than strict guidelines as many in both the Artan Fleet and Starfleet are far more capable than I am. I am not built for combat, but for protocol and etiquette, after all. However, if my sacrifice is necessary in the completion if my clerical duties, then so be it."

The silver haired cyber-pirate cleared her throat and pulled her large military cap closer down over her eyes. "I got a copy of the morality subroutines that are for free use from the Federation... Ah... Day-Strong? Institute? Something like that. I tweaked them a little for our use, what with pirate bi... Business and all. I figured it fitting she use fleeter morality at her core."

"Very appreciated, Baroness. She'll be among us, so very good thinking on your part. Plus she'll be interacting with the Captain's wife and baby daughter, so best that we are all on the same page when it comes to behavioral expectations." Turning to address Aiva, Rita nodded. "Thank you for the explanation, Aiva. While I am sure that the Captain and Maica will have their own questions, their safety and well-being are one of my prime responsibilities, so you understand I must always be a bit cautious with new personnel who will be in close contact with her family."

"Your caution is noted and logged for future use," replied Aiva almost monotonously before returning to her slightly more emotional voice. "I am equipped with zero tactical capabilities and I seem to be loaded with no knowledge of more than basic defensive tactics. If you desire an upgrade to my abilities for the defense of Captain Telvan and her family, I will strive to better myself."

"I do not," Paris replied quickly. "Zero tactical capabilities is fine. It is the responsibility of others to defend the Captain- from you she will only require service, and better you fulfill that role, I think. Leave the defending to us, hm?"

"I loaded the learning module the Day... People sent out as well. So she can actually be taught things," Sarika clarified. "But for now, how about we get out of this shuttle? I've spent far too much time in it already and I could use a shower. Aiva, would you please grab one of my bags and bring them?"

"Of course, Baroness. Where are we going?" The innocence with which the new life form asked the question as she picked up one of Sarika's small duffels sounded almost childlike. The silver-haired woman that was almost as short as a child simply looked to Rita for an answer.

"Deck 8. The senior officers are quartered there, as well as the VIP guests, and the Captain has indicated that you're to be quartered in VIP Quarters number 7. You'll have some reasonably distinguished neighbors who may help you adapt to life on the Hera," Paris declared as she began leading the way off the flight deck.

"Aye, Commander," came the reply from Aiva as she fell into step with Rita and Sarika grabbed her other small duffel.

"Distinguished neighbors? I knew this vessel was big, but you're not running a hotel are you?" Sarika tried looking up at the much taller Starfleet bombshell, but the brim of her hat got in the way.

"Not exactly," Paris laughed musically as she led the way off the flight deck, through the olarge pressure doors and into the starship proper. "But there is a room reserved for a sometime guest, the ship's namesake goddess resides aboard, and of course the headmistress of our specialized child daycare in the R&D department lives in one of those rooms. Anyone who isn't Starfleet who comes aboard, the Captain likes for them to be treated well and put up in expansive, roomy and comfortable quarters so they feel welcomed and honored rather than an inconvenience who is put up in the next available billet. As her Adjunct, she will expect for you to be housed in quarters comparable to those of the Baroness... ah, the Baroness von Alcott, of course. So no, not a hotel.... but certainly quarters for important guests."

"I assume you are in good standing with the Captain, thus I assume we're to put you up in style," Paris added with a small smile as they arrived at the turbolift. "If I'm wrong, I'm sure I'll be corrected."

"I do not know what my current standing with Captain Telvan is," Aiva replied, looking between the two other women. "Do either of you know what she thinks of me?"

Sarika couldn't help but burst out laughing, having found the newborn synthetic's innocence hilarious in its own right. "I'm sorry but there's no way to tell until you meet her. Once you get to know each other, I'm sure she'll love you like another member of her crew and family. As for me, I think the only one left alive that's known her longer now is the great Schwein herself. If I'm not in good standing after all we've been through, there's something seriously wrong."

"I'm sure she and Maica will both be very fond of you, Aiva. Raising a child between them has become quite a chore for which they were both a bit unprepared, so your assistance will be most welcomed, I have confidence," Paris explained as they loaded into the turbolift and she called out, "Deck 8, VIP quarters, please."

"Then I will request databases on childcare be added to my subroutines immediately to enhance my utility to Captain Telvan and her family." With an expectant look, Aiva looked down at Sarika.

"Aye, look at the perpetual single woman with thirteen holographic cats for info on babies?" Shaking her head in dismay, Sarika just scoffed it off. "I'll see if someone in the crew can help you with that one."

"We'll get you in touch with Doctor Mah and Doctor Power. I'm sure he has extensive files he can share with you on the subject, and he'd be more than willing to share. "We'll get a few experts to work with you so you'll have the tools you need to perform your duties, Aiva," Paris responded, even as she tapped at a PaDD, sending messages to the relevant parties to get those data transfers set up and in process.

Given how hard the childrearing had been on the Telvans, Rita was actually a bit grateful Sarika had brought the artificial maid aboard. She would likely be a huge boon to the Captain, although the annoying little voice in her brain insisted that she be thoroughly scanned and vetted, and her programming cleared before she was given full access to the Captain's family. Thus Lieutenant Clemens would be brought in to facilitate the programming aspect of the artificial life form, while ensuring that she posed no danger.

"Thanks, Commander. I'm a scientist, not a programmer. Getting her up and running to the point she is with all my other responsibilities has been a bitch..." Not catching herself in time, Sarika sighed and leaned against the wall of the turbolift. "Sorry. It's been... yeah. I wanted to keep everything under my direct control and all that, you know? Especially what with all that's happened. Someone might try to slip something in. At the very least, I know she won't bring harm to anyone, and she's good at what I put in. Etiquette, protocol, handling the Artan paperwork, making tea and drinks, translations..."

"Oh yes, I am skilled at preparing over fourteen thousand drinks both with and without alcohol," Aiva insisted proudly.

Sarika waved one hand grandly in front of Aiva. "And there's one thing that was simple to import from the maid database. Priorities, of course."

"Proper hydration and nutrition is critical to the healthy continuation of biological life," the maid declared with a nod.

"I'm sure the Captain will be pleased," Paris declared as the turbolift doors opened and they departed into the VIP quarters, where a few doors had Security personnel placed on them- rather large female security personnel. "Why so exasperated, Sarika? You seem to be under a lot of stress here, and I'm not sure I understand why?"

"Aye, the responsibilities have been building. Before a Baroness could just sit on her laurels and run her own fleet and leave the nation building to the royal fleet and the Captain. Now... since the Tribunal... I've been asked to share findings with half a dozen different institutes, play diplomat, help figure out where the remains of the two traitorous fleets go... Surprise, half of them are being folded into my own fleet so I have to review the vetting process of those bi... beautiful ships and people. Not to mention trials to attend, votes to cast as a juror for the crimes of the officers of those fleets..." With a bone weary sigh, the short pirate seemed almost glad to be away from it all, at least for now. "We're building Enalia's dream for real now, but it's exhausting. I haven't even slept enough to recharge my cybernetics properly since the tribunal. I've just been swapping out power packs."

“Well, you’re here now,” Paris offered. “It’s my understanding that the Captain chose you to be her next Adjunct, although I am starting to get the feeling you were trying to set Avia up to do the job. Is this not a posting you find desirable, far from your own ships and fleet and trapped on a ship full of stiff-necked Fleeters?” While the words might have been acrimonious or sarcastic, paris spoke them with humor, indicating that she did understand and had some perspective of how the crew of the Hera might be viewed by the pirates.

"Well, I admit that I don't know the fleet as well as I'd like. I think your actions during the Tribunal went towards bringing us together in the hearts and minds of a lot of people and... Well, my cruiser is comfortable, you know? But this... This place is spotless and nothing is out of place or patched up or rebuilt... And this deck looks like a hotel. You even have uniformed... mountainous women... guarding a couple doors." Sarika motioned towards the VIP quarters they had passed moments before. "We guard a door, we normally use a physical lock and some newbie with a stun baton and he might have a targ that smells of piss."

"Fleeters... You shower regularly and clean behind your ears and press your uniforms and it shows. Most of my own personal crew... I wish I could get some of them to wear proper clothes, let alone uniforms." With another wave of her hand, Sarika reached up and unbuttoned one of the clasps of her overbuilt uniform. "You're stiff necked... But only because you've got the discipline and training. The people I'm used to are all spacers and know the job well, but the only thing keeping them in line is the threat of no booze rations or brig time or worse."

"From their perspective, now... I think they see the crew of the Hera at the very least as the Queen's crew and part of us, but with fleeter efficiency. As for me?" The petite Baroness thought on it a moment more before giving her final response. "I think I'll take this as sort of shore leave and enjoy a few weeks here. Especially if you don't ration your booze or showers."

“Booze and showers are unlimited according to your replicator allowances, but the captain has likely left you a generous allotment,” Paris fudged the truth slightly in this regard- in fact, Enalia had asked her to make Sarika feel welcome and well received, so she made a note to submit a request for additional replicator allowances for extra-long hot showers and bottles of liquor. “You are more than welcome to stay as long as you like, and even stay on as Adjunct should you so choose. No pressure, just putting it out there that the opportunity exists, and that you are welcome.”

“Surrounded by Fleeters, the captain does sometime have need to reconnect with her roots, as it were. And a civilian asset unanswerable to Starfleet has more than once figured into her plans. As part of her original crew, I am sure she’d like to have you close. But, I also understand if this isn’t your cup of tea.” With that said, Paris approached VIP Quarters #7, and the door whisked open. “These are your guest quarters for the duration of your stay. If you need it and the replicator cannot provide it, feel free to call Operations and request what you need.”

Gesturing inside, Rita swept her arm across the spacious and nicely appointed if a bit generic quarters.

Slightly taken aback, the silver haired Baroness's jaw dropped at the sheer size and splendor of the VIP quarters and it took her until Aiva took both bags and set them on the bed in the bedroom and reported back to register that they were indeed all for her. "These... Are quarters... For one person? Not shared? I mean, Aiva will be here... but... holy..." As she wandered the quarters and looked over them, a solid stream of muttered expletives in at least forty languages coming from the salty space woman as she tested every panel and measured every width with her arms.

After several minutes, she returned to Rita, her cap in her hands and tears in her eyes. "Thank you, Rita. This is better than even my lodgings on the fortress. A little smaller, and no wood paneling, but so much nicer amenities like a replicator and my own refresher. If there's ever anything you need that Sarika's Science Stalkers can provide ya, just name it and it's yours. And if you ever might know where I can get a decommissioned ship similar to this, please... I'd love to make it my next flagship."

"I think this one might be one of a kind, but I'll keep an eye on the decommisionings for you, surely." As she spoke, Rita Paris strode over to the replicator, to produce a PaDD. Once she had it in hand, she began logging into it as she looked around the immense VIP quarters.

"As for the quarters.... yeah. My old quarters were four by nine, which included the reclamator, and that was great big officer's quarters, because I was a department chief. So I know how you feel. I put up some walls in mine to break it up, otherwise it's kind of like living in an auditorium, y'know? You can customize them as you like, so long as there are no safety hazards." As she spoke, Paris had produced a tablet and was tapping away at it. When she finished, she looked up, and her eyes sought Avia.

"Miss Avia, I need to have you vetted by our intelligence chief before you go on active duty. Standard onboarding procedure. if you will, please meet Dr. Power and Chief Clemens in the Intel pod along in Yeoman Dedjoy's lab 2." Turning to Sarika, Paris inclined her head in a small bow.

"I will report there immediately," replied Aiva and with a polite bow, she headed out of the VIP quarters towards the turbolift they had come from. In the corridor, they could hear her politely asking the computer for directions before the door closed.

"I understand if you'd prefer to be there for the vetting, Baroness, but for security reasons this needs to happen independently of you. I hope you understand. I believe the Captain expects you for dinner at 20:00, and between now and then your time is your own. You have VIP run of the ship, here's some basic maps and floorplans and you already have 'guest' access in the ship's computer." The buxom bombardier handed over the tablet in her hands.

"Perfectly understandable. Honestly, I'd do the same," Sarika replied, plonking the hat back on her head and looking over the PaDD. "I can provide source code for almost everything. There's some firmware in the cyber-body I don't have but I'm sure your people can analyze that easy enough."

Tapping at the PaDD a bit more, she found it difficult to control with her metallic fingers so she gave up for the moment. "So where are the transporters so I can avoid them?"

"Deck 6, unless you count all of the transporters in the runabouts on the flight deck, Deck 4, or the cargo transporters on Decks 11 and 18. Sickbay on Deck 12 has medical transporters, and the Captain's Yacht, on Deck 9... I think that may be all of them aboard. Here," Taking back the PaDD, Paris tapped at it for a few seconds before handing it back. "The Paris guide to every transporter onboard. Not a fan, I take it?"

"It's how I lost my arms and eyes..." Sarika muttered, memorizing the locations. "I know your people are far more competent, but... Some things you can't forget, you know?"

The anachronistically uniformed officer literally, physically shuddered at the explanation, her calm professional demeanor evaporated as she shook off the horror of the thought of losing parts to a transporter. While she'd always felt as though she was leaving a bit of herself behind, she'd always come through with all her limbs intact. This was a horror she'd never particularly considered, and it triggered her own transporter phobia rather acutely. Breaking out into a sweat, Paris stammered through her attempt at a reply as her skin paled. "Oh... oh, my stars, yes. Yes, I expect that is the sort of thing you'd never forget."

The shorter woman pulled her hat lower over her eyes and wrapped her arms around herself, having noticed the change in demeanor in her fleeter companion quite acutely. Working up the nerve to at least share most of the story, she sat down on the couch. "It was right before Enalia saved me. The console I was on... Idiot on the transporter controls was off a few meters and dumped molten magnesite all over me... I uh... Last thing I saw was the red transport shimmer before the gasses... And the burning..." It took her a moment to compose herself before she could continue. "They told me it was only three weeks before an Artan had bought me. When they turned on my new optics, Enalia's face was there, telling me I was free."

There was only minor internal debate- this was in quarters behind closed doors, after all. The woman was a stranger, and they didn't know one another well. But compassion was never the wrong answer to Rita Paris, and she pulled the smaller woman into a hug, holding her there for a moment. "That's a horrible story Sarika, and I'm sorry that happened to you. But that was then, and in the here and now, you're safe. I promise, if there is any way to avoid transporting, I'll find it for you. Starfleet won't beam you unless there is absolutely no choice, okay? And you might be surprised at the lengths we can go to in order to accommodate not beaming someone..."

"Thank you," the smaller woman mumbled, gingerly accepting and returning the hug. "Enalia... She was always understanding. Thank you for also understanding. I... You... You're not fond of them, either... Are you?"

“No, Miss Sarika… I most certainly am not. Maybe we’ll split a bottle sometime, and I can tell you some stories. Suffice to say, I’ve never had an experience quite like yours, but… yes,” Paris admitted, pulling back to make eye contact with the smaller woman. “It can most definitely be said that there are a great number of reasons why Rita hates transporters. So you may rest assured that I will literally do everything in my power to see to it that we find another way to get you from point A to B, if it is at all possible.”

"Thank you," Sarika replied, the moisture in her eyes messing with her optical cybernetics so that they constantly readjusted trying to focus on the much taller woman's face. "I'll hold you to that, you know. I can drink just about any... sentient under the table. Other than Schwein, that is."

“Well, I won’t present that much of a challenge, I assure you,” Paris offered with a smile. “Now why don’t you settle in, have a nice long shower, and get yourself ready for the Captain’s table. If you need anything, it’s a comm call away, and last but not least…"

"Welcome to the Hera, Baroness Sarika.”

The break room on Deck 3 of the expanding R&D Department was in a bit of chaos at the moment. Some degree of construction had already begun, at least in regards to dismantling some of the existing structure of the room in order to make way for the expansive creation of what had been whimsically dubbed “Daycare 1” by Commander Rita Paris.

At the long lunch table, Jaeih Dox had a temporary computer workstation set up in order to assist the department chief, Lieutenant Mona Gonadie, in the design of what was planned to be an ejectable, modular daycare that would be able to function as a highly defensible life raft/escape ship in the event of an emergency. As a former Romulan engineer with a specialty in cloaking technology, Jaeih Dox was putting considerable effort into figuring out how to maximize the available space of the department and help her Daughter-in-law create a ship-within-a-ship that would keep her charges safe.

Two of those charges, Minerva Carrot and Moira Artan, sat on the padded deck in front of her while the canny former Intel agent kept a watchful eye over them. Not that it looked like it, however, as her attention seemed quite focused on her screen, but she nonetheless was watching them quite carefully as they played. Or, at least, it looked like playing.

The miniature Minotaur babe, Minerva, was on her hands and knees, snorting at the much smaller half Orion, half Trill little girl, who was sitting on her diapered rump, waving a green, rubber sword at the other child’s head with a look of dread determination on her tiny green, spotted face.

Snorting again, little Minerva bobbed her head back and forth, brandishing the horns growing atop it at the much smaller child, leaning on her hands to get closer to Moira. Sitting opposite, Moira stuck her tongue out slightly as she brought the sword down to meet Minerva’s horns and the blade struck with a resounding *HONK*, to which both children giggled.

While Moira was a couple of months older, she was much smaller than Minerva, who was clearly touched by Hera’s power. Thus the miniature minotaur was growing at a slightly accelerated rate. Already, she could toddle about on both hooves and mutter random words as she saw fit. But in spite of her larger size and considerable strength, it was clear that she was being extremely gentle with her playmate, and only pretending to attack.

Clear to Jaeih, but not automatically to Briaar Gavarus. The portly porcine Tellarite engineer was one of Minerva’s mothers, and as she walked in, her jaw dropped as she let out a curse. “Holy SHIT! What the effin’ F***, Jay!? Are you even looking at this? They’re trying to kill each other!?”

Rolling her eyes, Jaeih saved her work and stood up from the table. Adjusting her blue uniform top, she walked over to the children and bent down to talk to them. As she did, her stern facade lightened into a warm smile as her charges smiled back at her. “Moira, dear. May I play with your sword for just a moment? Please?”

The tiny green baby looked at Jaeih and down at the sword that was almost half her height and giggled as she stuck it out towards the Romulan nanny. Gently taking the toy, she nodded. “Thank you, my dear. I promise I shall return it post-haste. Plus…” She then whispered to the children with a warm and mischievous grin, “You will both likely enjoy this. Watch.”

Standing back up, Jaeih stepped over to the two-meter tall Tellarite who looked positively flummoxed. “Miss Gavarus, you will note the Medical tricorder on my belt. Your daughter is perfectly fine. As you can see, this deadly weapon is decidedly harmless.”

As she spoke, she raised the toy sword and lightly bopped Briaar on the top of her head several times in a row. Each time, the rubberized longsword let out its distinctive sound, which caused the two children to squeal with delight.

*HONK*

“Really?” Briaar commented, flatly.

*HONK*

“Would you cut that out. C’mon.”

*HONK*

“Really, Jay? This ain’t funny!”

*HONK*

“The children disagree,” Jaeih said, glancing towards her charges, who were both giggling hysterically. “Your daughter seems to be functionally invulnerable based on the scans I’ve run, and the toy is incapable of harming anyone. Well…” Then she looked at it and raised an eyebrow back at Briaar with a grin. “... I could hurt someone with it, but you likely don’t want to know how. Nevertheless, I have been monitoring them both closely, and they are simply playing. Minerva is surprisingly gentle with Moira, and they seem to be enjoying each other’s company well enough.”

“Well… okay. It just… it freaked me out a little, is all.” Briaar replied, blushing slightly with embarrassment.

“Which is to your benefit, Miss Gavarus. You and Miss O’Dell are wonderful parents, but you may rest assured, I am giving little Minerva my full attention.” Jaeih said softly as she returned the sword to its owner with a smile, watching as the children returned to their play. “Now, is there something you needed, Miss Gavarus?”

“Huh?” Gavarus said, slightly distracted. “Oh, yeah. Commander Paris is in the bay and wanted to talk to you.” Then, the tall Tellarite’s tone became slightly conspiratorial, “She doesn’t look pissed or anything, but I can never tell with her.”

Rolling her eyes and smirking ever so lightly, Jaeih patted the space swine on the shoulder and sighed. “Thank you for the warning, Miss Gavarus. I suspect I shall survive, however. If you would be so kind as to monitor the children for a moment, thank you.”

With a friendly, “Sure thing, Jay!” the portly porcine walked back to start playing with her beloved daughter and Minnie’s unlikely little friend, as the former Tal’Shiar agent adjusted her blue tunic and stepped out into the main day of Deck four and the R&D Department, where Commander Paris was waiting patiently in her standard, anachronistic gold velour miniskirt uniform. While it was unique amongst the crew, the uniform was a remnant of the bygone era from which the comely commander hailed.

For her part, Jaeih Dox seemed… different… as she walked over to the Hera’s First Officer. The elder Romulan woman’s posture was a bit less formal and her expression was a bit more relaxed. She had given up her duties in the Pod as an independent Intelligence agent unless needed, choosing to take up the offered role as caretaker to the next generation of the Hera. Thus far, it seemed as though the choice may have been an unexpectedly positive one. “Good day, Commander Paris. Miss Gavarus said you wanted to speak with me?”

Turning from her observation of the mechanical repair O’Dell was working on inside one of the station ‘legs’ of the experimental Silver banshee craft, Rita Paris smiled, the expression that seemingly lit up a room. In truth, while there were very few if any personnel that the full-figured first officer did not get along with on the USS HERA. But Jaeih Dox was a special case- a stern Romulan agent turned smuggler, captured by Starfleet and forced into indentured servitude for well over a decade, she was an angry, distrustful and suspicious woman by the time Rita had come to visit her at Starfleet Intelligence.

But her daughter served on the Hera, and Mnhei’sahe Dox’s career had come under the tutelage of the old-fashioned officer. Thus when she had initially sought out the middle-aged Romulan woman, it was to tell her that her daughter was excelling, and that she should be proud of the young woman. The lessons of discipline and dedication that Jaeih had drilled into her had borne fruit, thus the Starfleet officer Dox was dedicated, capable and morally sound.

It had taken quite some time to earn the woman’s trust. But consistency was a watchword of the lost navigator, and over time, she had drawn out the elder Dox. Bringing her aboard gave her assignments and responsibilities, as she discovered a home, a family, and a purpose on the unique starship. Which brought her back from ‘existing’ to ‘living’ once more. Now, with the advent of the next generation coming into being, Rita was recognizing the patterns, and assigning children to the daycare she was deliberately segregating from the regular nursery on the starship. Because many of the children of the USS Hera were exceptional- literally touched by the divine.

Thus they required a guardian, mentor, and teacher who was up to the task. Which Rita had determined to be one Mrs. Jaeih Dox. Having watched the seemingly dour woman accept the positions Paris had assigned her and contribute as if she felt she had to prove herself, it had made the ancient astronaut happy to see the woman come into her own, learn to trust, and see that what might seem to be demeaning assignment was instead one of the most vitally important duties on the starship.

“Reassuring Miss Gavarus, I take it?” Paris asked cheerfully as the blue-clad spy, inventor and reformed Romulan agent arrived on the R&D flight deck.

With a neutral expression betraying only the slightest of grins in the corners of her mouth, Jaeih glanced back to see the two-meter tall Tellarite laying on the deck of the break room with Minnie and Moira climbing on top of her prodigious paunch and giggling. "Indeed. I believe Miss Gavarus is still in that stage of her career where she assumes every visit from a Commanding officer is to be a dressing down." 

Then the elder Romulan woman turned back to Rita, standing straight with her hands behind her back as usual, military discipline being second nature to the woman who had served one military or another for the better part of half a century, "I have no such concerns, of course. I assume this isn't a social visit, though you seem in a quite pleasant mood?"

“No reason not to be, Mrs. Dox,” the cheerful commander replied. “As for the undisciplined fearing discipline, that’s the natural battle of order versus chaos in the modern age, I suspect. As for the reason for my visit… yes, official business, of course, but of a peculiar nature, as things tend to be on the Hera. Let’s retire to your classroom for the moment, shall we?”

Gesturing toward the break room, Paris strode in the direction indicated. While some might have chosen to wait for the other party, Paris knew without a doubt that the Romulan nanny was on her heels, so she acted expeditiously and did not feel the need to reassure. However, upon entering the construction zone, she took it all in at a glance, then settled on Ensign Gavarus.

“Miss Gavarus, Mrs. Dox and I are about to have a sensitive and highly classified discussion. If you wish to be a part of said discussion you may stay, as it does concern your child, thus indirectly you as well. However, that also means more highly classified information stored in your head, of which you may wish to be blissfully ignorant. So the decision is yours to make, but now it’s time to make it, hm?”

While Paris could have thrown rank around or simply ordered what she wanted, it was a hallmark of her command style that she tended to almost exclusively ask for what she wanted, rather than order it. In this case, she was offering options to the junior officer, which was also seldom seen in Starfleet. But the uniquely uniformed throwback was different than her modern counterparts in many ways, this being amongst them.

Sitting up with a light grunt, Gavarus bounced little Minerva on her lap as she knitted her brows in thoughts. "Uh... Wait, what?"

Looking up, the enormous Ensign realized she was still sitting on the deck while talking to the ship's first officer and scrambled to her disproportionately small hooves as quickly as was possible while Jaeih collected Minnie and Moira and put them in their toy-filled playpen in the corner of the repurposed chamber. Readjusting her blue uniform tunic, Gavarus replied with a bit more certainty than was usual for her. "Uhhhh... Yeah. I mean, Yes, Commander? If it's about Minnie then yeah, I need to know what's going on."

“Fair enough. Then as you were, Ensign,” Paris gestured back to the floor. "No need to stand on ceremony. Neither the Captain nor I call for that ‘officer on deck’ rise to attention when we enter the room, so please don’t feel obliged to do so.” Taking a seat at the table, smoothly tucking her skirt beneath her as she did so, Paris crossed her legs in a precise scissoring motion that indicated a lifetime of practice maintaining her modesty in a short skirt.

“In the year 2480, a version of Miss Artan here,” Paris indicated the emerald-skinned toddler on the floor, “created an artificial life form named Kodria Mizu. That android would come to know many of us whom are still alive and active in that era. Sometime around her fourteenth year, she was investigating a spatial anomaly, and was hurled through time to the year 2376. Her inert form was captured by Section 31, and taken to one of their research facilities. The base was soon overrun by a Romero virus outbreak, and when her internal systems rebooted, she was the only living being in the base.”

"That young woman made her way to the comm system, figured out how to power it up and sent out a distress call for weeks, never losing hope that someone would hear her, and come to help. We intervened, and I carried her out of there- apparently fulfilling a promise I'd taught her years ago... That's when the trouble started." Paris recrossed her legs, her equivalent of fidgeting. "You see, Kodria came from the future. Which meant that she had foreknowledge. Which she would accidentally blurt out as conversation additions. One thing would make her think of some experience from her own life or a correlation to an old story she'd heard of our exploits, possibly from us, and she would say it before she remembered there was so much she wasn't supposed to say."

"Our ship's physician at the time had rather an excellent summation of Kodria," the blonde bombardier held up a PaDD as a sensor log played.

“She’s a bit adrift. I can see her start to say something and then stop, as if realizing she would potentially disclose things we should not know in the process. To me, that indicates good discipline and awareness of the consequences of one's actions. She has been very physically cautious, I suspect she has augmented strength compared to you or I and is aware that her movements must be measured to avoid harm. To be frank, it struck me as an adolescent interacting with a baby for the first time. The adolescent knows they could accidentally crush the baby and are being careful because of it. She takes in information at a remarkable speed and can quickly form thoughts and conclusions. For instance, she immediately posited the world in the Hobbit was being constructed to a larger purpose than the one story she was aware of. However, socially she is as a child. She seems to need strong bonds and is missing her caretakers still. The time she spent in isolation has not helped her social development, in fact I believe that has regressed from what it likely was. It is my belief that with proper support she can be a contributing member of the crew, should she wish.”

"The only thing I know of that Doc Dael got wrong was that she actually has rather low strength, by design. In order to prevent Kodria from further polluting the timeline and statistically quite likely wipe herself out of existence by paradox, we locked her up in a time vault." Noticing the surprised and taken aback expressions, the Earth girl held up her hands. "What? Classic Cinderella. She went to sleep surrounded by us, and hopefully she'll wake up that way in 80 years or so. The time vault was to keep paradox from wiping her out, although we've already made changes to the timeline."

"Well, more Sleeping Beeee...." Gavarus interjected as she sat down to the far side of the table, blushing a deep pink as she revealed her knowledge of Earth fairy tales was a bit more advanced than your average Tellarite. She chuckled nervously and grinned a bit too broadly to overcompensate"Uh... never mind. Sorry. Heh heh... Go on."

"No no, quite right Miss Gavarus, I am confusing my fairy tales," Paris admitted. "Thank you for the correction."

While Gavarus hushed herself up as she looked down at the cooing, pale green baby playing with the Minotaur toddler, Jaeih simply crossed her fingers and nodded, absorbing what Rita was saying while sitting across from the Hera's XO. "I've seen one of her recordings with Mnhei'sahe just prior to our... abduction. Beyond that, I knew precious little aside from what isn't classified."

"Well, now you know why. But wait, it gets better. You see," Unexpectedly, Paris rose, crossed the room, then reached down to scoop up the emerald toddler, bringing her up to perch on her rounded hip. Crossing the room again, she slid down to her seat, to perch the babe on her knee. "You're pretty big for six months, Moira. It turns out, Kodria left behind messages, little time capsules that she wanted to use to warn us, to help us head off future catastrophes. Which we couldn't avoid, so we weren't breaking any temporal rules. She was, but she was gone, sleeping off the decades until she can pick up her timeline again."

"Then after a few alterations were made, she offered us advice on something that was unknown in her timeline. Something foreknowledge could not have accounted for. Which was when I realized that Kodria had left a digital clone of herself in the Hera's computer system, who might have started by dispensing Kodria's prerecorded messages, but a child is raised by a tribe." Bouncing Moira a bit in her knee, Rita Paris smiled at the wary toddler, then frowned, and the tot giggled. "Apparently I helped raise this one, so she has this rather strong desire to try to help. Because that's what Starfleet does. How did I put it?"

Looking to the overhead, the career Starfleet gal recited her speech from memory. "If you are ever alone, then you stay calm, and you call for help. Then you wait, and you don’t give up hope. Because there are people out there who spend their lives answering those calls for help, in the darkness, when all seems lost. People like Starfleet."

Unbeknownst to her, those words would grace the base of a statue in her likeness, as she appeared today, in the Rita Paris Hall at Starfleet Academy.

"Well, that certainly sounds like your insidious influence, Commander." Jaeih said, allowing a very noticeable and wry smirk to crack her usually patrician facade. She was now relaxed enough in her position on the ship to actually make a good-natured joke, which elicited a wide-eyed stare from Gavarus who was still terrified around Commander Paris, and still a bit scared of the dangerous, former Tal'Shiar operative.

Returning her gaze back to the situation at hand, the time-tossed temptress, bounced the babe on her knee, steadying the child with one hand. "So my current dilemma is that I have a sentient computer program wandering around the ship's computer, watching us, monitoring for trouble that she can help prevent. Which is a bit dangerous, but the kid's heart is in the right place. It's been confirmed, we can't really get her out of there because we could never be sure that we got all of her, and likely all we'd end up doing is wounding her. Which, not really an option."

"If we ignore her she'll pretend to be sending a message from the past, but otherwise she'll be alone, watching and fretting over us, and that's just cruel. So. That's where you come in, Mrs. Dox. There are two projects currently underway... Okay, fine!" Minnie had risen to her hooves, clambered out of her playpen and waddled across the room to gently ram her head against the Commander's knee a few times, clearly jealous of the attention. Pulling Moira in close, Rita scooped up the Minotaur, then sat up with a slight grunt, balancing both babes on her lap. "You are a surprisingly dense little person, Miss Carrot."

"Two projects are underway in R&D on this side of the flight deck, and both of them are in Daycare 1. The school, and the ship. It is the command's opinion that Miss Kodria would do well to have some regularly scheduled socialization. While we feel you are fully capable of the task of overseeing the children and designing, constructing and testing the lifeboat with Lieutenant Gonadie, this may be a chance for you to help us solve this particular problem." At that, Paris looked to Jaeih Dox and cocked her head, with a slight smile. "How would you feel about having an assistant. Mrs. Dox?"

"Well..." Jaeih said, stalling slightly as she pondered her answer. "I know Mnhei'sahe trusts this Kodria implicitly. She told me that much. That this young woman considers my daughter and you, Commander, as her... aunts. That says a significant amount to me. And if you feel that I can be of assistance in... integrating her into a role here on the ship, then I see no reason to decline. And I am not so fragile of ego as to not concede that I could use assistance in some capacities here."

"And that is the Starfleet way, is it not? Teamwork and the ultimate goal of building each other up, as I understand it. It is quite the opposite from the crucible that is serving on a Romulan vessel, but I have gotten to witness the benefits firsthand," Jaeih said as she uncrossed her fingers and raised an eyebrow as she looked up to the room. "What exactly did you have in mind, Commander? What would my ultimate role here be, as you seem to be implying more than a simple managerial position?"

"Ultimately, I don't know, Mrs. Dox. I'll be assigning more children to Daycare 1, so I will expect you to be a nanny and teacher for them, then the headmistress of their schooling as they advance in age. Ultimately? I can't say. The future, current situation notwithstanding, is unwritten for the most part. I am no Cassandra, and my oracular capabilities are nonexistent. A year ago you were in custody at Starfleet Intelligence, and I most certainly could not have predicted that we would be here having this conversation." Paris scritched the spot behind one of Minnie's ears as she spoke, as the wee Minotaur giggled a bit at the attention while Moira bopped the Commander on the boob with her play sword.

"The important part of this discussion is that I need somewhere safe for Kodria, where she can participate and be involved with others. Admittedly caring for her own infant mother is an odd experience, and a bit stressful perhaps. But I can't assign her to the Captain, I can't assign her to shadow me, given the rather unpredictable nature of my life. She needs stability, structure, and a purpose, in an environment where she will minimize the damage that she might do with faulty foreknowledge. So, working with you as a teacher's aide in Daycare One, while helping with the system designs and such seems to be... my best option to care for her." At that, Paris looked up a bit wistfully.

"We are finders of lost children, it seems. We do not abandon them, and we do not ignore them just because they are inconvenient," Paris said, perhaps a bit forcefully. "Just as I asked you to take on the responsibility of Daycare 1, now I ask you to take on one more. There is a lost teenager who needs a life, a purpose and someone to talk to so that she does not go mad from loneliness and being forced to witness history crawl by one second at a time. So your purpose in this is to help her, Mrs. Dox. If you refuse, I will find another way. But I think this is the best possible solution, and thus why I am bringing it to you. Because I trust you to help Kodria."

Sitting back slightly, Jaeih's mind was already working on the task of figuring out what might be the best way to move forward, but realized internally she was putting the proverbial cart before the Shaill and hadn't properly met the young girl in question or fully confirmed her willingness to accept this new responsibility. As such, she straightened up in her seat, taking on a more professional demeanor and replied. "I accept, Commander. I shall endeavor to do my best to serve and assist the young woman in any way I can."

A smile spread across the face of the surprisingly successful with children Commander. "You never back away from a challenge, Mrs. Dox. Much appreciated." Looking up at the overhead, Paris addressed empty air. "Miss Kodria, would you be so kind as to come and meet Mrs. Dox, and give your own input to the situation?"

With a shimmer of holographics that took a bit longer than normal, a young girl appeared before them with mirrored eyes, dark purple hair, Vulcan-esque ears, and a purplish pink skin that looked at home on the definitely Artan facial features. She also had the signature Artan body build. scattered around the young holographic android were half a dozen floating screens full of scrolling raw data.

With a slight bow, the Kodria in the computer introduced herself. "Mrs. Dox, I am Kodria. I must admit that in my original timeline I know only the stories I was told about you... Mostly from your daughter in relation to her tattoo, and having watched you personally... I'm not really sure what to expect anymore."

Raising an eyebrow at the somewhat enigmatic statement, Jaeih stood up to greet the young holographic representation of the android woman. With her arms folded behind her back, Jaeih gave a light bow and replied. "It is an honor, Kodria. I hope I live up to whatever expectations you may have of me. Though you have me at something of a disadvantage, I'm sure."

Considering the strange statement the young woman said, Jaeih understood what Rita had meant earlier about Kodria's propensity to give more information about the future than was probably safe. Although now, as the golden-clad Commander had pointed out, that information was from a future that had been prevented, making the information a bit safer to know now.

"Well, expectations..." Kodria began, shuffling her feet a bit. "You don't seem like the kind of person that would train children to the point of broken bones... Or able to kill a hundred Tal'Shiar with a spoon... You seem a lot nicer, really... I guess I believe the part about you single-handedly rescuing a million reunificationists? So I'm not sure what to expect."

Her ears perking up, Gavarus' eyes widened again as she leaned forward and coughed a little on her words. "*Kaff*... Wait... what? Children with broken WHAT now?!"

In an extremely rare reaction, Jaeih's own eyes widened slightly and her cheeks flushed green ever so slightly as she pursed her lips. "How I chose to raise my daughter is... not something that I am proud of, regardless of her skills now. And... I was a very different woman then than I am today, Miss Gavarus. I know all I can do is tell you that the only bones I would ever break in regards to your wonderful daughter would be the bones of any who tried to harm her."

To which Minerva, still being held by Rita bounced and giggled slightly as she muttered out a happy, "GAM!"

Of course, Gavarus knew just how dangerous Jaeih was, as she and O'Dell regularly referred to her as 'Granny Murderpunch', but hearing a detail of how she had trained her own daughter as a child to fight was still something of a shock she was doing her best not to overreact too as she let them continue.

Nervously, the former Tal'Shiar operative grinned at the tiny tot on the Commander's lap as she ran a finger over her ear for a moment to recompose herself. It was an anxious affectation that Rita immediately recognized from Mnhei'sahe. Clearing her throat, Jaeih continued. "As for the rest, I can assure you that whatever my daughter may have told you in this future... is wildly exaggerated."

The young holographic android sighed in relief. "Then the story of the time you murdered a twenty-foot tall Gorn that pissed you off with a single punch... That too must have been an exaggeration."

At that, Jaeih legitimately smiled and let out the slightest of chuckles. "Oh, my dear... I've not encountered any Gorn even half that size. And the last one I encountered in any kind of crisis scenario had to have been a smuggler that contested my rates... oh... twenty years ago. And the only thing I murdered that day was his pride. I will say that it helps in a fight to know where the Gorn keep their genitals."

"Well, this looks to be a promising introduction," Paris said, sliding Minnie off her knee and onto the hooves of the basically bipedal bovine. Taking a second to steady herself. Minnie established she was upright, then turned around in a circle, her tail trailing behind her as she exclaimed 'Moooooo!"

Tucking a hand under and one around baby Moira, the intuitive navigator turned to look down at Kodria. "Miss Mizu, you are in no way obligated to do this. You still retain agency, and if you don't wish to do any part of this, you are not beholden to do so. This is, as I explained, what I think will be my best option to get you some contact with people, a place to call your own, and some responsibilities so that you can contribute. Because I know you just want to help."

"This, I think, is a way you can help. I think you can make a real difference to these kids, and I think you might learn a thing or two from Mrs. Dox, who is going to need more than 2 hands to keep up with all of these exceptional children of the Hera." With that, Rita Paris held out the babe and offered Moira to Kodria, who she gingerly accepted.

Staring down at the infant that promptly decided to bop her on the noggin a few times with the toy sword, Kodria couldn't help but give in and grin brightly. One by one she turned to the various holographic data feeds that surrounded her, deliberately shutting down her future analytics and analysis in order to focus on the moment.

"Hey, mom. It's good to meet you, too."

Having explored some of the ship over the past few days, the Artan Baroness Sarika had come to grow a bit fond of the large vessel and all of the amenities. Everything was perfectly maintained, there was a full crew complement, Everyone was pleasant and good at their jobs... If this was the utopia of Starfleet, she didn't think that it was so bad after all. In fact, there were gears turning in her head. Wonderings on if the Artans could do something similar, if on less of a scale. Right now, they had understaffed ships across the fleets and training was on the job. Discipline was unregulated. Regulations were unregulated...

But if she could convince the other Baronesses to help her start an academy of sorts... and to recruit from the worlds which were under their protection? Now that they were no longer pirates, but privateers founding an empire, it was quite possibly doable.

Perhaps this was Enalia's endgame for the Artans after all.

But for now, she was here in the ship's lounge to try and relax. She'd been at paperwork all day and she needed a stiff drink. Thus when she sat at the bar, she took off her hat, set it on the bar, and placed her order. "A tall glass of Aldebaran whiskey, if you don't mind." Rotating on her barstool, she stared out the large windows as she waited for her drink. Even the view of space from inside one of these fleeter ships felt different. More at peace and one with the universe or something.

Entering the ship's lounge, her head buried in a PaDD, Mnhei'sahe Dox walked in with a quick pace and made her way to the bar where she flagged down the bartender and waited as she looked up to notice her silver-haired, fellow Artan Baroness at the bar. "Sarika? I read the onboarding schedule that you'd come aboard. How are you doing? I'm sorry I haven't had the chance to see you before now."

Accepting the glass of brandy from the barkeep, Sarika nodded to her Romulan and fleeter counterpart. "I think we've both been busy enough with our duties that visits of state can be excused. After all, this is a big ship and there's a lot of work to be done to keep it ship-shape, after all. So how have you been? I haven't seen you since... Was it..."

"The wedding at the Captain's fortress. Just after the Tribunal. I've been... somewhat preoccupied since then." Dox said with a light, if awkward grin at the woman she had only met a few times, but was nonetheless quite fond of. However, the generally anxious young pilot couldn't help but notice that Sarika, who tended to favor hugging and broad displays of affection, was decidedly more reserved at the moment.

As the bartender brought over a glass of Kali-fal, better known as Romulan Ale, Dox took a sip and cricked an eyebrow. "Well, visits of state weren't on my mind, per say. I'm just glad to see you. It's rare to do so where there isn't some degree of calamity occurring. And at least for me tonight, it's just my normal calamity. Well, more or less. How are you adjusting to the ship?"

"You fleeters almost have me brainwashed into thinking this is..." Turning to look back out the large windows again, Sarika paused and dropped the snark and looked introspective. "No... I think I'm seeing Enalia's dreams in a new light. I knew she wanted to found a new nation with the Artans... But now... I think I see how she might actually be able to do it in our lifetime."

"This ship... she's Starfleet, but she's more than that, too." Dox said, taking another sip and setting her PaDD down. "The Captain brings her experience with the Artan fleet to what we do here. And she brings what she learned here as a Captain to the Artan fleet. In doing so, she can measure both against each other and find a balance. At least, that's the hope. But it's a hope that I share with her and do my best to help implement where I can."

"I think she can do it. Especially with people like you." The red-headed Romulan woman said, raising her glass to Sarika.

Raising her own glass, Sarika smiled softly. "Then here's to the hope of that future coming true. We'll need a lot more work than we're putting in now... But I think we can do it. We just need a bit more help, I think." Knocking back half of her glass of brandy, the silver-haired woman exhaled a sigh of delight at the flavor. "That's the good stuff there. Now, speaking of dreams, how's yours coming along? Married life treating you well? Got your fleet built up yet? I heard you've been named an ambassador too now, eh?"

"More work, indeed." Dox said, finishing her own drink and letting out a light sigh with an awkward grin. "Not quite an ambassador. I'm not quite sure exactly how I would define my... position. Except to say... it's extremely complicated. TOO Complicated, really. As for my fleet, It's grown to... one ship. The Golden Ghost is an exceptional ship. A refit T'liss class Bird of Prey commanded by Helev t'Liun. She's helped us more than once and I... I admit I've put a lot on them."

"Married life..." Dox said, blushing as she held up her empty glass to the bartender with a nod for a refill. "That... that is simple. That has made everything else worth the struggles."

"That's good to hear. You deserve someone special in your life like that. I can't believe Schwein's getting married too. I figured she'd have to find someone made in a factory or in the heavens..." Sarika finished off her drink before finishing her thought. "And I guess I was right, aye? Norwegian god of thunder or something?"

"Apparently," Dox said, rolling her eyes slightly. "I only met him once, and I'll admit that my knowledge of Earth mythologies is... spotty at best. I used to not believe in such things until coming here. Now... I don't have the luxury to be ignorant of the gods. Any gods, really."

As the bartender brought the red-headed Romulan her refill, she took a swig, trying to not think about her connections to such forces, and instead thought about her more mortal ones. "I admit that I never got to know Schwein as well as I should have, but she seems genuinely happy. Much happier than when I first met her, and I'm glad for that."

Taking another swig of her drink, she pursed her lips slightly as the notoriously strong blue liquor burned her throat. A familiar and comfortable sensation she had been denying herself of late that she had missed. "But, thank you. I don't know that I deserve her, but I'm grateful every minute of every day that she seems to think I do, as well."

"Well, I'm told that's how it works, so there you are. Family." With that, Sarika accepted a refill and downed almost half of it. "For me, I've got thirteen holographic cats."

"Well, I have it on good authority that holographic cats are always welcome on the Hera." Dox said, taking another drink and smiling as she thought of Maru, the sentient holographic cat that lived in the Hera's computer core. "So, since Baroness Von Alcott is moving on, will you be staying with us as adjunct to the Captain? I won't lie. It will be nice having you aboard and I think it would do her well to have you with us as well."

"I won't be... Well... I built Aiva to do the job for me remotely, but I think I'll have to make the time to spend a few days here now and then." The silver-haired woman took another drink as she thought it over. "Yeah, plus Aiva will need guidance and all that and you know... She doesn't even have a hundred hours of run time."

"I know that you have a lot on your plate, but having someone she can trust will be important to the Captain in regards to making this all work. Being a queen, rebuilding an entire government and Captaining the Hera. It's a lot. It's arguably too much. But, that's how we all make it through what we have to do here." Dox said as she finished off another drink and held her empty glass up for another. "We have each other. We depend on each other. Even if it's only occasionally, I know she is glad your here."

"But... that's business and neither of us are on duty." The Hera's Chief Flight Control officer said, the Romulan accent that she generally worked to cover starting to slip out as the alcohol kicked in. "How is the transition going with the acting queen and all that? I admit... with everything else going on in my life, I've not kept up with my responsibilities as a Baroness as much as I should. Though, in my defense, I've been Hhakh busy. Heh."

"I think she's doing pretty well. Enalia couldn't have picked a better person, honestly. What with insisting on Elysius attending the academy and paying Starfleet out of pocket for it herself, I'm starting to see where a lot of her more odd plans come into play." Sarika finished off her brandy and waved her glass for another refill, swirling the greenish liquid as soon as it was poured. "She's always been a bit more cunning than most, you know. So is the acting queen, but she idolizes her father, Magnus, and Enalia."

"I was at the coronation, but I never really met her. But Magnus..." Dox paused slightly, taking a moment to think of the oddly paternal Pirate that she was quite fond of. "Magnus is a good man."

Finishing the rest of her drink, Dox was certainly starting to show it a little more as she went and her posture, usually very professional and stiff, began to loosen along with her accent and the more liberal peppering of Romulan words into her sentences. "So... if I may say, you seem... different. A bit more... reserved then I remember. Imirrhlhhse... much more reserved really. I know how I'm managing with everything on my proverbial plate. What about you?"

"I um... Yeah... I'm trying not to curse so much for one," Sarika replied before finishing her drink and reaching behind the counter to refill it herself, downing the entire glass and refilling it again before gathering up enough liquid courage to explain what had happened. "The malware you found in my cybernetics? Did I tell you it was put there by my Second?"

Raising an eyebrow, Dox was genuinely caught off guard for a moment by that statement as she took a sip from her refilled drink. On one hand, she was embarrassed to have not known, figuring that if she had been more attentive to her responsibilities as a Baroness, that she likely would have known that. But she also could sense how difficult it was for Sarika to say what she already had, and her tone shifted to show her genuine concern. "I... no, no I didn't. I knew that the Captain's Mother was using your Cybernetics to spy... but I had no idea. What's happened?"

"He was one of Arenara's spies... When he went to trial after the Tribunal... Because of my involvement..." The pain in Sarika's voice and eyes was clear as she downed her entire drink in one go and emptied the rest of the bottle of Aldebaran brandy into her glass. "Because we were lovers... I recused myself from the trial. The others settled on immediate execution."

"Tlhei'nouhha..." Dox muttered in Romulan, the equivalency of 'oh my god', as she looked at Sarika, eyes wide. "He was... using you to get to Enalia? The Captain? How..."

Pausing, the young Romulan woman still trying to come to grips with her own conflicted emotions for the Grandmother who had her kidnapped that she was still trying to impress, thought about the scenario that was so different, and yet had the painful sting of familiarity to it. "Usae'arhem... I am so sorry. How... how long were you together?"

"He became my Second when I became a Baroness almost twelve years ago, but officially? I think four years?" Doing her best to recover and her words starting to slur, Sarika finished off the last of her brandy and looked into the now empty bottle. "My new second was my science lieutenant for seven years. She's good, but... Sometimes I want to strangle the Selarian bitch."

Smiling slightly at the more familiar Sarika for a moment, Dox chuckled slightly. "Well, sometimes that's a good thing. I've wanted to... well... there are some exceptional pilots on this ship that have also driven me nohtho as their supervisor."

Looking around, Dox made sure that there wasn't anyone in earshot as the ship's lounge was mostly empty at the moment and she shook her head as she continued, "I try to do the right thing, but sometimes I think Commander... Fvadt, the Commander, The Captain, My Grandmother, everyone. I think that they've lost their minds trusting me with so many responsibilities."

"Aye, yer right there, you are," Sarika intoned, finally a bit more animated. "They expect us to take on all these extra responsibilities because we... We're responsible an... Respectable... or somethin'... I've got like a hundred ships and crews to vet and reassign to the fleets an no one wants em but me an Merelith. You want like... twenty or thirty ships?"

At which point, Dox almost spit out her drink as she looked over, eyes wide. "Vah? What? Ships? What are you talking about?"

The petite Baroness got a semi-serious look on her face and turned to address her junior a bit more seriously. "The ex-queen's and the two traitor baroness fleets. They've been disbanded and the leadership of each are still on trial, but I've been assigned the task of vetting the crews and reassigning the ships to whomever will take them. Merelith and I are the only ones that have welcomed any so far."

Taking another drink, Dox's tone became a bit more serious as she considered Sarika's words. "So, you're serious? You're thinking that some of these crews should fall... under my Barony? As it is, I have the one ship that I... I don't pay enough attention to. And my Starfleet duties make it impossible to directly oversee their activity. My mother was named my adjunct, but she's here as well."

Suddenly, the weight of what Sarika was saying began to sink in. "I would have to arrange a meeting with Commander t'Liun. Well, Doctor. She hates being called commander, but I trust her. If I did this, it would be increasing her responsibilities as well." The anxious aviatrix's eyes went to the floor as it was clear that she was working out the problem in her head rather seriously.

"How many crewmembers are we talking about, Sarika?"

"Most of the ships are small so 'round thirty-seven hundred folk across ninety-six ships," Sarika clarified as she rummaged for another bottle of brandy and fighting with the barkeep for a moment before he game in and poured her a fresh drink, much to her delight. "About half are light smuggling and freight haulers while the other half are fast attack craft. Good for picket runs and cargo and the like... but not much else. Apparently the bitches were running drugs across the Klingon border."

"Seha'llihhu?" Dox muttered, still slipping into Romulan subconsciously as she repeated the number. "Sarika... are you serious? I don't even... what would I do with two dozen or so ships?"

Even as she protested, the young Romulan's mind raced with the possibilities, especially concerning her other mission as a representative to the Romulan Senate, representing them in talks with reunification colonies. Properly vetted, those ships could serve that cause very well. And immediately, the thought made her feel cold. It was a calculating and VERY Romulan moment for the young woman who wanted nothing to do with politics, suddenly finding herself plotting and planning in her head. Grandmother would be SOOO proud, Mnhei'sahe. Dox thought as she downed an entire glass of ale in one hard swig.

"Hell if I know," Sarika replied as she downed some more brandy, completely oblivious to her companion's internal thoughts. "Probably about what's happening to the other eighty or so that have been accepted? I'm having most of mine fitted with sensor platforms and Merelith took most all the Miranda and Saratoga ships to help with police work. Magnus took all the ore haulers for the fortress. Still got that mining money coming in."

Silently, the young Lieutenant Commander thought on what Sarika had said, taking a long drink as she did. Dox needed this responsibility added to her pile like she needed a Ceti eel facial, but once in front of her, she didn't know how to not think about it. With a resigned sigh, she let her head hang back as she rolled her eyes. "What kind of data do you have on them? Ship classes? Crew manifests? Anything. I'll need to work out my own vetting process if I'm going to do this, Sarika."

"Emphasis on IF."

A squee could be heard from Sarika as she left her drink on the counter and tossed her arms around her fellow Baroness in a hug. "Thank you sooo very much! I have ship inspection records for each IFF and for each person I have medical and criminal records as well as Artan personnel records if they warranted one prior to the tribunal. I'll forward them to you and your Second first thing in the morning."

"Ugh. Take your time. Please. I still need to finish training my new assistant chief here and prepared a written report for the Romulan Senate. It all makes me miss the academy." Dox replied, taking a drink and sighing. "["Fuck, I'm an idiot." in Romulan, which I'll look up tomorrow. Lol]."

"I was just thinking I should put together a proposal for starting an Artan Fleet Academy. Nothing fancy, mind you. Maybe two years for officers and a year for the regular crew to teach them technical skills and get them trained up in skills beyond drinking and stabbin'." Sarika retrieved her drink and took it a bit slower by only taking a large gulp of it this time before continuing. "Do ye think Rita would be willing to look over such a proposal? See what she thinks of such a thing?"

Taking a drink, Dox smirked lightly as she thought about how much Rita didn't care for pirates as a general rule. "I think anything that helps move the Artans away from the route of Piracy into a more structured and straightforward organization will be met with her approval. And... while I'm no expert in such things... I would be glad to pitch in as well in that regard."

"Thank you. Enalia's dream... It's pretty big, isn't it? Bigger than her great grandmother's, I think." Sarika turned to look back out the grand windows of Ten Forward and sip at her drink. "That woman was a visionary though. Do ya think she woulda thought her namesake would have the power to make it a reality?"

"Her Hu'nanov? Her Grandmother?" Dox stammered slightly, translating herself as she spoke. "Sorry. It's tricky to stick to Federation Standard when I'm drinking sometimes. Still, I suppose I must claim ignorance. I don't know anything about the Captain's Grandmother. But if it's anything like you're saying, then I have no doubt that En... that the Captain will achieve everything her Grandmother might have imagined. She can do it. We can help, ie?"

The young, somewhat overburdened Romulan held her glass out towards Sarika's.

Clinking her own glass against Dox's, Sarika explained a bit about the history of the Artans. "It happened in the... ah... 2200s I think... Seventy-six were decimated and the founder of the Baronies and the first Queen, Enalia Artan, made a fortune on salvage and mining, as well as counter-piracy against the Syndicate and Orion Pirates that she was able to outright buy an orbital fortress and found the beginnings of the Artan Empire with seven baronies. Enalia Artan's personal ship is docked in the Fortress museum and those with permission may visit it. It's quite something, you know. Old Trill warp sailer. No impulse. Hand-carved panelling. Photonic cannons. Crew of seven, other than her and barely room to sleep, let alone work. It was said that she could detect a cloak of the day just on the disruption of ions around her ship."

"Nothing escaped her eyes," Sarika sipped at her drink as she idolized the first queen. "And she dreamed big."

"Sounds like quite the legacy to live up to." Dox said, also looking out the windows into the heavens as she thought of her own grandmother and the legacy that Verelan t'Rul had for her. Bit she put that thought out of her mind and looked back at Sarika. "I'll start reviewing those files as soon as possible. My duties to Starfleet come first, but I have some... loose thoughts to consider. And if I can help, I will. Sound fair?"

"More than fair," Sarika replied with a nod. "And remember that you've got people you can trust too, aye? You do have a Second and an adjunct, right?"

"I do, yes." Dox said, pondering Sarika's words as her mind started working the situation through. "But... I'd prefer to not bring my Mother into this if I can avoid it. She's found something ... Special here. And given the opportunity, she might take it and turn her back on what she's building. But I have... another thought."

"Oh? What's that?" Sarika asked curiously, always interested to hear about what another was planning. It gave her ideas of her own.

Once I review the data and determine who might be best, I wish to contact Maenek Helev t'Liun. She's the Commander of the Golden Ghost, which is currently the only ship under my Barony. We've mind-melded and she and the Ghost crew has assisted me twice now without question."

The young Romulan woman took a sip. "My responsibilities to Starfleet forbid me from taking much direct action as a Baroness. I couldn't directly take control of a ship, per say. But the Ghost is a refurbished T'liss class Bird of Prey with a crew of 158. They've had two opportunities to betray us to the Tal'Shiar and remained loyal to us and the cause of reunification. They and Maenek... Doctor t'Liun have supported the movement for years, doing supply runs and getting refugees from Romulus. To make a long story short, I trust them."

"Hnaev..." Dox peppered in a Romulan expletive as she spoke, taking another drink. "A major chunk of her command crew is only free because of the work my mother and I did when I was younger. I will be calling her for a meeting, but if she agrees, I plan to name her my new second and adjunct. She runs the Ghost with the efficiency of a Romulan military vessel tempered with the compassion of a doctor. And of we promote a few key officers to command role, and redistribute them to Commanders of some of these vessel's, we could create a viable fleet to help keep these reunification colonies safe and supplied."

"It's a Longshot, as she... bristles under the responsibility of command... but I think that might be what makes her as good as she is at it." Dox finished.

Sarika nodded approval and finished her drink, setting her glass aside. "Sounds like you have a good plan forward then. A word of advice though? Don't name your Second and adjunct as the same person. An adjunct is like a secretary or a cabin girl without the ah... sex and stuff... Anyway, fancy word. Perhaps Doctor what's her name could recommend someone."

"Ahh, of course." Dox said, blushing a slight green hue as she smiled awkwardly. "That makes sense. Thanks. And thank you for being here. I'm sure this synthetic Adjunct assistant will be useful, but I know that En... The Captain... could use more than a secretary. And you can provide that. Friendship and a positive link to her other responsibilities that shows her that the Artan fleet is in good hands that will support her goals. It will mean a lot to her, I'm sure."

"Yeah, I think I'll come by every so often. I kinda like this place, ya know?" The silver-haired petite Baroness eyed her companion for a moment. "And I have to keep an eye on you. Make sure you're not working yourself to death."

At that, Dox almost spit out her Romulan Ale as she thought about her bizarre friendship to Death herself. "Yeah, well... we have a strong support system here on the ship. But it's always good to have friends to help."

Slightly taken aback at Dox's slightly odd reaction, Sarika gave her an odd look. "Yeah... Someone you can talk with is important. I get the feeling there are a lot of people aboard you can talk with and the crew here is a good solid family. That was another part of Enalia's dream, you know. Something a lot of the Artan crews don't do so well at when they try to move to other ships or such."

"THAT'S something that I think we can work on. Where Starfleet training and structure can benefit the Artan ships." Dox said, letting herself get pulled a little into the topics from earlier. "When I look over the other ships and data, I think it will help us organize a plan to present to the Captain."

"I've been keeping her apprised of the basics of how the fallout of the Tribunal has been going. I'm sure she'd love to hear your thoughts on it as well, now that you're involved, unlike a third of the other Baronesses." Sarika sounded a bit bitter about the ones that kept to themselves, but they were completely free to do so by Artan law - as long as they didn't violate Artan policy or business, that is."

Taking a drink, Dox sighed lightly and nodded. "Well, we will be able to talk to her and see what we can do. But for now, we don't need to discuss work anymore. And if there's anything you need on the ship here, don't hesitate to ask me."

"I need..." Sarika began, looking at her still empty glass. "A refill. Now let's get shitfaced and see who hits the floor first! I bet a case of booze I can outdrink you! Barkeep!"

With a light chuckle and a very warm smile, Dox held her empty glass to the bartender. "You're on, Baroness. I have a crate of Praetor's choice on my ship that says I can take you. And if I win, maybe I'll be able to get the details of just why you and Schwein both have silver hair, eh?"

"Oh, now that's a story..." the silver-haired pirate rolled her cybernetic eyes as she remembered that fateful day Enalia scared her entire command crew so bad all their hair turned silver. Then she grinned and held up her glass up in challenge. "Aye, then I have a good reason to win! Bottoms up!"

The chime at the door at 6:10 wasn't expected to be that much of a surprise, really. Dox had a habit of obsessively tracking details, so this one likely wouldn't have slipped her by. Given the day, Rita Paris figured she'd start it out with her second favorite activity, since she'd already engaged in the first this morning. Stretching her hamstrings while she waited, the well-traveled galactic explorer smirked, imagining Mnhei'sahe Dox pulling on her shoes, having anticipated what this was about when she heard the chime, contrary to what her first guess had been.

When the door opened, she would find out. The sublime expectations of a linear existence, as Sonak had said.

The pause was a little longer than usual, however, before the sound of footfalls came from behind the door and it wooshed open. leaning against the doorframe, the red-headed Romulan pilot was pulling her own ankle up behind her and wearing a basic black and crimson running outfit. Nothing particularly unusual, as the two ran together at least once a week and on most mornings, the slightly chunky but still exceptionally fit young women did some form of morning exercise. 

Her hair was a bit more disheveled and her skin had a slight sheen as if she may have already done some kind of workout a bit that morning. As was almost standard operating procedure, the anxious aviatrix seemed concerned by her superior's presence in spite of how often it happened. "Good morning, Commander. Is everything okay?"

"C'mon. Let's go run the Exeter hull- it's my birthday!" the statuesque siren in the distressed Starfleet Academy class of 2255 tank top and red sport shorts grinned, as she turned to begin heading for the lift. "I did a little math this morning, and I came to the realization that while chronologically this is my 164th birthday, with he five years on the Constitution and my time since, I think this is actually my 30th birthday. So c'mon, let's welcome me to my thirties, shall we?"

As Dox followed being, she had a broad smile on her face as she spoke. "Your Birthday? Must've slipped my mind. Huh."

The lift doors opened and both women got on as Dox's cartoonishly blatant lie hung in the air. For a Romulan, she was a horrible liar and she knew it, so she chose to lean into this one for effect as she continued. "And... Does that mean I'm technically older than you? At least in Earth years?"

"Well, yeah, I guess it does," Rita looked up as she remembered Dox's age from her file, and hit the turbolift call button. "Of course, your projected lifespan is about twice mine, so I don't think the extra two-year advantage is going to do me a lot of good in the long run," Rita grinned. "Assuming, of course, get to live out our natural lifespans. Given the lives we lead, that is statistically improbable. Although we do have the habit of beating the odds..."

Chuckling slightly as she stretched against the wall of the lift, Dox replied. "Well, if it were being counted on Romulus, I'm only Thirty myself as the years are about twenty days longer. But that doesn't really count."

As the lift arrived, both women got off on the deck and made their way to the Hera's holodeck.

"Alrighty, bring up the old girl and let's take a few laps. I'm feeling nostalgic this morning," the throwback officer paused to chuckle at that. "When am I NOT feeling sentimental. I'd ask how I got so old so young, but I think the universe has already provided the answer to that one. So how's Mona? It's getting close to time, isn't it?"

Tapping the Holodeck instructions up on the control panel outside, Dox nodded. The doors opened with a chirp revealing the holographic Vista of the saucer of the vintage Constitution Class Starship as the Romulan flight chief replied, "Two months, according to Doctor Powers last estimation. It's been largely estimations rounding the average between Miradonian and Romulan gestation periods, bit it's still looking accurate."

Stepping inside, the door behind both women vanished leaving them seemingly standing atop the old Starship, surrounded by a projection of the vastness of space. "But she's doing very well. She has to take a hypo daily to help keep everything regulated as the children's blood is Copper-based, like mine, and the difference occasionally makes her nauseated. And even though she's coming up on the mandated bedrest stage, she's beyond excited. She's gotten to the point where she's having what seems like one-sided conversations with them."

"Except, they're not. They're... responsive. It's not words, per say. But when I'm touching her, I can pick up their thoughts and emotions easily through our bond." Dox's smile was exceptionally big now as she thought of the children due in just two months. "It's... It's really amazing, Rita."

"Good! You should be excited," Rita responded, leaning into some long thigh stretches. "You're going to be parents, and your entire lives will change. But for the better- your family of two will be a family of five. Which means Mona will be a member of a not quite as endangered species, and you will officially become the ship's foremost experts on changing a diaper. You might want to take a lesson from your two fairly odd parents in R&D on that front- I saw those two change a diaper in 10-Forward and I have to admit, if they did everything with that level of efficiency they'd be after our jobs!"

"I've seen. It is... extremely impressive." Dox said with a light chuckle as she shook herself out in preparation. As she did, her tone took a slightly melancholy tone. "Although, I have to admit... I knew I'd miss having Mona in the office when she took the R&D position full time, I have to say that I actually miss having Miss O'Dell around as well. Ensign Wieaex is taking to the training very well, but the department feels much more... empty... now."

“Don’t be so dramatic, Dox. They’re literally one deck up, and parked on top of your office. Plus O’Dell is pulling bridge duty when the Hera needs an insane pilot and we’re unavailable, so it’s not like they’ve been reassigned and they’ve moved out into the fleet. It’s just a part of life- we move on,” Rita moved to do some long overhead stretches, and she changed tack, as she was prone to do. “Speaking of which, I heard a rumor your baronial duties are expanding.”

"In my defense, I'm very good at being dramatic," Dox chuckled lightly with a grin. "But yes, apparently. Baroness Sarika is trying to vet almost a hundred ships that served under the Baronesses that were loyal to the Captain's mother. The crews weren't all involved in what was happening, but many of the other Baronesses are washing their hands of them, which I don't feel is right."

"She's asking for help in redistributing those crews and ships and asked if I would take some under my barony." The anxious young Romulan woman said, shaking her head. "So I said I'd consider it and help. I'm... still working on ideas as to just how to do that. As if my plate weren't full enough."

“Sounds like she’s trying to get you set up to have a fleet under your command. How do you feel about all that?” Rita asked as she did a few waist twists, ready to set off.

"She is." Dox said, finishing her own last stretches, nodding to Rita that she was ready to go. "Right now, my responsibilities are here, but honestly, how I feel is... overwhelmed. Pulled in too many directions at once. This just is adding to everything going on with the reunification missions and my Grandmother. It seems like everyone has a plan for me. But how I feel, is I want to be an officer and a wife and a mother. Everything else will wait its turn."

"Right now, though, that all has to wait because today is your day. Ready when you are." Dox said, shaking off her anxiety and setting up to run with her friend.

Setting off at their usual pace, Rita kept talking, as she tended to do. “I have some advice for you on that front, if you’re of a mind to hear it?

"Of course." Dox said sincerely, running alongside Rita with far greater ease then she did in those early runs of over a year ago, now.

“Your grandmother wants you to come to Romulus and work from within the system to effect change…. despite the fact that she’s been at it all her life and hasn’t made much progress,” It was a harsh thing to say, but not wholly inaccurate. “Sarika wants you to assume a full barony, and spend your days running a portion of the Artan fleet, despite the fact that there are baronesses who have been there for years who are there full time. Death wants you to take over for her someday, maybe not even that far off. You do realize that it’s your life, and that you are obligated to none of these people, right?”

In this, Rita spoke from experience. Her own domineering father had attempted to steer the course of her life, with disastrous results, and she had come from an era where women were seldom encouraged to strive and achieve- an odd period of human history that had been a throwback to older values and perspectives in and of itself.

Thinking about it as she ran alongside her friend and mentor, whose opinion Dox valued greatly, the young pilot looked up at the projected stars as they went along on the recreation of the old Constitution Class ship's saucer. "I do. At least I know it rationally, even if I don't always believe it in my heart."

"And… I know I'm being manipulated. Particularly by my grandmother, to try and get me back the way she wants me. But I also can't ignore the opportunity to make a difference for people like those colonists." Dox admitted as she ran alongside her leggy Commander. "So, I'm trying to do what I can, where I can, without sacrificing what I have. What I've worked so hard to keep."

"Be your own woman and chart your own course, Mnhei'sahe. You may not get a vote in some of it because the universe will have its way. But you get a say in a lot of it." Jogging along, Rita paused to take in the bridge and second deck at the center of the saucer section, enjoying the nostalgia of seeing the old classic, and getting to experience the act of running on the hull while she was moving at impulse through space.

"Let me ramble for a moment, if you will. I need to work this out myself as well, alright?" Rita asked, looking to the sturdy Romulan for her acquiescence to the request. With a nod received, the Starfleet officer from the era of the starship upon whose holographic hull they now trod, launched into her rant.

"It's hypocritical of me to counsel you this way, in some respects, because I have hopes for you within Starfleet. You could go all the way, get your admiralty and command a fleet in Starfleet. Or teach at the Academy, or any number of opportunities, the least of which is command. But," Rita wagged that finger. "You HAVE a command already, with the Artan fleet. If you take Sarika's offer, you'll have a fleet you command, as well. Starfleet would be years in the making to work your way through those experiences, but it's hard to compete with instant gratification."

"I'm guilting you about this, however inadvertently, and I apologize. I suppose it's really just me lamenting that Starfleet can't compete. You are a fine officer, and you're learning command, and the future is bright for you. I think why I'm trying to convince you to stay is just selfishness. I don't want to lose you to the Artan fleet, but 'work for another 20 years and you might make admiral' logically can't compete with 'freedom, your own fleet with flagship, carte blanche as part of a dawning empire with close ties to the queen'. Eventually logic wins, when it comes to sentient life. Trust me on this, I have the word of an expert."

"That's aside from your dear old Granny, who roped you into being her representative to the Federation via Starfleet, thus literally turning you into a Romulan asset. The more you struggle with that tar baby, the more it's going to stick to you. Reunification, I know, I know," Rita waved Dox off, assuming some expression of protest. "I do believe in it. Hell, I invented the experiment for it while we were discussing it with the locals, for which will either get me into the history books one way or the other, depending on how this colony experiment goes."

"But the Romulans are dangerous and vindictive and yes, some are honorable and noble. But those aren't usually the ones you run across, and they certainly have been at a premium in our lives. Your family being the exception, of course. I trust you and your mother with our lives, and have more than once." Paris grinned at her running partner as they passed the centerline of the ship. "But Romulan politics, along with the archenemy you seem to have picked up? The homeworld of your people has a heck of a hold on you. Once you 'came out' they 'came after' in a heck of a hurry, and they really seem determined to rope you in. With your knowledge of the Federation and Starfleet, you'd be a unique expert, and you'd be a propaganda victory the Romulans would cheerfully exploit."

"So... this is my birthday present. I get to not be 'The Commander' for one morning run, and I can babble about what's worrying me to the person that I'm worried about." Grinning, because she couldn't resist, the buxom blonde with the surprisingly taut bosom added, "How'm I doing?"

"As usual, pretty kreldanni good." Dox sighed as she stood next to Rita, where they paused. "I know all of that in my head. I truly do. Rita… I'm… I'm terrified. Everything that's happened in just the last few months feels like some kind of twisted nightmare. The idea of the old adage of 'be careful what you wish for' taken to an unimaginable extreme."

Looking up at the projection of space, the young, conflicted Romulan woman's hands balled up as her jaw clenched. "Sometimes… sometimes I wake up screaming. Terrified that you didn't really come for me. That Rendal is creating all of this in my mind with that… machine. That I'm still there."

"Mona… Mona brings be back, but everything my Grandmother had offered me… if it had happened just two years ago… I would have run to it. And I would have been lost. I KNOW that, but it doesn't make me not still want it anyway… that family that I didn't get to have. And then I feel guilty for that and it all rounds on itself like a serpent eating its own tail."

"Plot your own course, Dox," Rita offered, the lost navigator speaking from experience. "How all of this comes to pass, you can only be forced to do any of it if you let them remove your agency. You have one responsibility- to yourself. Then to the wife and kids, who ARE your family. They aren't your past, but they are your future. Ideally, you swore an oath to Starfleet, so we figure in there somewhere too," Rita smirked and shrugged, then became serious. "

You choose your path, and your destiny. Sonak says it's basically will to power- you give energy to it, the reality shifts and becomes more possible, if you will. Don't be what other people want you to be, if that's not what YOU want to be. I think that might be the best advice I can give you, but keep in mind, this is from a girl who ended up here from another dimension who is 164 years old today, yet paradoxically just turning thirty." Rita laughed, then cocked her head a bit as they entered the shadow of the bridge and Deck 2.

"Or maybe this was my destiny- to be here, to make the difference that I do in the future. All my life, looking forward to that brighter tomorrow we were building... and I got to live to see it," Rita looked up at the old starship with that expression that made her look like a recruitment poster, then spread her arms a bit to gesture to herself. "In my youth, no less!"

"Maybe. I can't say, I've not actually met fate yet." Dox said, letting out an awkward chuckle at the absurdity of the statement. "But… but I know that I wouldn't be here if not for you. Not in a vague, metaphorical way. Literally. I wasn't supposed to be rescued. Not right away. And not until after Rendal would have used me to wipe out that colony. The Captain wouldn't still be here. A lot of us wouldn't be who we are without you."

"But you were there on Romulus, so I was rescued. And then we saved them. I know. I helped Rei do the paperwork, Rita." The story came out with a light chuckle as she hadn't yet told anyone the specifics of that particular incident. "That… not the paperwork… the making a difference. Doing the right thing no matter what. That makes it worth it. That's something I can choose for myself and live with."

"Well, it is selfish of me but... I do hope you stay with Starfleet, despite the fact that it makes no sense for you not to move on to the Artan fleet to be a damned commodore. We do make a difference out here, and i hate to be the one pulling you in another direction. But to be fair," Rita wagged that finger again, "this was the life you chose. Not the one that was thrust upon you or laid out on a platter for you. Life in Starfleet was the one choice you've made in all of this. So maybe keep that on mind... the old lady's nagging not withstanding."

"You're allowed to nag, it's you're birthday." Dox said with a warm smile. "And... I have no intention of abandoning Starfleet. Yes, there's the good we do. Even here on an Intel ship where we can't exactly brag about our work, what we've done has saved billions of lives. I can't pretend that this isn't important because I could go to the Artans and get... instant gratification. But it wouldn't mean as much. It wouldn't be as earned as what I've earned here."

At that, Rita had nothing to say, but a tear did mingle with the perspiration running down her cheeks. Of all the possible responses she could have received on the subject, this one made her heart swell with the pride of a mentor whose pupil will exceed them. Thus she only trusted herself with a close-lipped smile of satisfaction, and a nod.

"Plus... It's like you said. Here, I have the family I've made for myself. I have Mona. And... And I have Enalia and you. This family is what kept me sane on that slow boat to Romulus. It's what I fought to get back too. I'm not going anywhere."

"Thanks, Mnhie'sahe. You don't owe me an answer, but... I really do appreciate that. I worry, you know. If you were just a Starfleet officer, I'd worry a little bit. But as a Romulan officer... I guess I knew, even in the future, that you being Romulan would cause trouble, but I still counseled you to embrace it. You should be who you are, and it was pretty clear that the genetic tampering was not doing you a world of good, on top of all of the childhood repressed memories which, seriously, someone at Starfleet Psych or the Academy or SOMEBODY in the fleet really needs to get on the ball about that."

Taking a deep breath to redirect, Rita reached up to run her fingers through her hair and sweep it up out of her eyes. "While I knew there would likely be trouble, I certainly never envisioned the scope of it. The Artan barony... I certainly never expected to have to be competing for my officers with my Captain, you know? Then there's the fact that I already had to call on a goddess to wedge a crowbar between one of my friends and Death, and.... I dislike that she's pressuring you. Making you do the paperwork? Forced indoctrination through guilt is a great motivator for her AND your grandmother AND Sarika, but I just don't care for it. Your choices should be your own."

"At least I know now you have your own opinions, your own desires and you aren't losing sight of them. Thanks, Dox... I genuinely appreciate the reassurance. As well as you not freaking out because I actually told you what's on my mind." Reaching over, the Earth girl patted the Romulan on the shoulder fondly.

"I'm not going to freak out, Rita." Dox said with a grin. "You may do the majority of the uplifting speaching, but I know you fairly well. I have no illusions of you being perfect or infallible. Remember, I've seen you cry too. Yes, you're my Commander. Yes, you're my metric of what Starfleet means to me. But you are also my friend and my sister. So, that means that we are here for each other, regardless of RANK or position."

"And today, that means I get to be here for YOU for a change." The generally nervous Romulan woman said as she put an arm around Rita's shoulder, which the earnest executive stopped running to turn it into a bit of a sweaty hug.

"I love you, Dox," Paris whispered before she pulled back so she could see the face of the young officer who meant so much to her. "Enalia is that cool, rebellious older sister I always wanted, who always knows a guy. Who, in turn, knows an ever cooler girl who is not related, yet finds herself in trouble, calling us as the cavalry. You..." Tucking an errant lock of red hair back away from her face, the last survivor of Kelvin Earth beamed a smile to the daughter of the Romulan reunificationists of Mol'Krunchi. "You are the other sister I never had, but always wanted. You're the insecure little sister I wanted to teach self-worth, and look at you? I'm genuinely so proud of you."

"I love you too, Rita. I really appreciate... oh hnave..." Dox said as she looked over the blonde bombshells shoulder and her eyes widened for a second as she smirked awkwardly. "You... might want to hold off on being proud of me for a few minutes."

Gesturing towards the bow of the projection of the Exeter, the two women looked as a holographic facade of the deck of a mock pirate ship appeared. "We... uh... we recorded this at the Pirate Dinner show at Risa we told you about. I... asked Kodria to fold this into the program for today, and activate it when we reached the bow of the ship... whichever ship we ended up running on."

"Bloody pirates," Rita muttered, rolling her eyes and smiling despite herself as the spectacle unfolded.

On the bridge of the projection, holographic representations of Dox and Enalia Telvan stepped onto the deck, wearing elaborate and somewhat ridiculous theatrical Pirate costumes. Enalia's was admittedly more revealing than Dox's, as the holographic recording of the young Romulan woman in the frilly, green blouse and overly large, three-pointed hat and corset pointed to someone off-camera. "Okay, Tova. Ready? Excellent... just hold it like that."

After a few seconds, music began to play as Rita's spotted Captain, most of those spots clearly visible in the skimpy wardrobe from the recent bachelorette party on Risa, and the red-headed pilot began to sing. As they did, half a dozen performers in over-the-top Pirate costumes stepped into view as unexpected background singers. "Happy Birthday to you. Happy birthday to you. Happy birthday, dear Rita, happy birthday to you!"

"Hahahahahahaha! That's absolutely precious, Mnhei'sahe! Thank you, thank you so much! That was very thoughtful, and I remain unswayed in my estimation of you, I assure you." Shaking her head, Rita looked around the hull of the ancient starship of more than a century ago as the holographic recordings of a few days ago bowed, laughing themselves, then vanished.

"The future certainly is marvelous. A bit different than I expected... but I'm genuinely glad that I'm here. Fate and destiny and the forces of the cosmos be damned," the ancient astronaut waved a hand dismissively. "All that matters to me is that we're all here, this entire odd family in space, darting from place to place at ludicrous speeds, doing impossible things. The dream of Starfleet is alive and well at the close of the 24th century. I'd say it was worth skipping all but the last 6 years of the century."

"Soon it will be the 25th century, Miss Dox. It's going to be an amazing time for the galaxy, I can feel it. Remarkable discoveries, fantastic explorations, new life, new civilizations..." Drifting off, wondering just what amazements the next century would offer. Rita refocused on the moment. "What do you say? Some wind sprints to the Deck 2 riser and back?"

"That sounds like a plan to me. Happy Birthday, Rita," Dox said with a broad smile across her chubby cheeks, as they set themselves up to continue their run on the holographic replica of the Starfleet of the past.

The past, whose spirit and traditions one Rita Paris was determined to continue carrying, into a brighter future.

"There's an old Earth girl saying... a thing about holding onto your youth. 29 and holding," Rita explained. "In the life we lead, that might just be an offer along the way. I think... I think watching everyone I know grow old and die, like Asa will... I think that's got to be incredibly painful. I think... 30's okay. I think I can live with getting older and knowing my time is finite, rather than lasting forever."

"I... I think about that more than you might think." Dox admitted with a slight droop to her shoulders. "I try not to think about it really. But in a perfect scenario, living full and complete lives, I'll live more than twice as long as Mona will. I mean... I could theoretically outlive our children naturally since Doctor Power says that the early scans show them having a lot more Miradonian traits than Romulan ones, genetically."

The Romulan pilot that was somehow both younger and older than her golden-haired commander at the same time, looked over at Rita and shook her head. "It's a real possibility, and it's not a concept I like thinking about... outliving the woman I already don't know how to live without. Watching my own daughters grow old and die. Yeah... I try to not think about it."

Staring at her friend for a moment, Rita considered, as she often did, the course that occurred to her. As it seemed right, she followed her guts and told the truth. "Please. Mnhei. Given the lives that we lead, do you REALLY think we're going to die as old ladies in our beds, at home on a planet somewhere, surrounded by family and loved ones? Or is it far, FAR more likely that one day our luck will run out, and either the no-win scenario will come for us, or it'll be the time and place to make a stand, with no other options and no last-minute cavalry. Or the noble sacrifice, because somebody had to do it."

"Heroes don't usually live to old age, Miss Dox. Statistics tend to catch up to us eventually. So just because the surgeon general says that I might live to be 135 years old, I'm not gonna consider that a guarantee in writing," Rita admitted, hands out as she cooled down for a few. "You might outlive us all, you might not. I'm just saying don't count on that projected lifespan as something you are definitely going to see to the end, is all."

"I don't. That would be dangerous on far too many levels. But sometimes... the idea just kind of latches on like a stowaway that refuses to leave easily." Dox admitted with a light, but awkward smirk. "I just... I just want to live the kind of life that I can look back on and say that at least I tried to make things better, succeed or fail. That I didn't let the things that threaten to pull me down do so without a fight. I... I don't want to be who I was before I came here. I don't want to want to give up."

"As for the options being presented to me... from my Grandmother. From the Artans. From Rei. That is what a lot of them represent, to me. A failure to... well... to be better. A retreat from... hope." As she spoke, she knew the topic kept swaying back to the introspective, but she wanted to follow the train of thought through to find that light on the edge and head there. "But... there are other paths in front of me. Courses I've been able to set for myself that I want to stay on because that journey is what I want for my life. I don't plan to give up the life I want for the idea of some grand destiny. Someone else’s destiny."

“Good…. that’s good. Relieving to me, really,” Rita admitted. “It’s not for everyone, this trek through the stars that we’re on. I just want to make sure that the path you choose is the one YOU want to be on, and that you don’t end up living your life, as you say, living someone else’s destiny. You’ve come a long ways…. I want to make sure you don’t get conned into being someone that someone else wants you to be, including me. I just want you to be in command of your own life, your own career, your own future.”

"Rita..." Dox said sincerely, "I know. Out of almost everyone I've ever met, you're one of the very few individuals that has consistently not had an agenda to push on me that I didn't already want by design. I'm a Starfleet officer. You extolling the virtues of Starfleet isn't some kind of con. It's you trying to do right by me."

"You're my compass point, in a lot of ways. Maybe that's not fair to put on you, but it's true. You are my true north, that keeps me pointing in the right direction. My guiding star, in a way." the red-headed Romulan admitted with an awkward smile, "Even on that fvadt ship I was trapped on, when I was at my lowest and wanted to give up completely, yours was that voice in my head telling me to... what was it... ‘pull on my officer panties and hold on’."

It was a story Dox had shared with Rita before, of her hallucination of the golden-clad Commander in the brig of her grandmother's Warbird after watching Rendal execute her father. But in the moment, it was a relevant reminder. "You have never lied to me. Never tried to manipulate me into taking a path I didn't want to. You've never shied away from telling me exactly how difficult the life we've both chosen can be. You are incapable of conning me, Rita. It's not in your nature. And I cannot express how much that means to me."

The smile that slowly settled onto the face of the old officer from long ago, whose values and morals were of a bygone age, was genuine and heartfelt. The redheaded Romulan’s words had touched her heart, in no small part because they confirmed her choices. Never had she tried to do anything but support Dox in her Starfleet career, and it relieved her greatly hearing that while so many forces were acting upon her seeking to manipulate the young officer, Rita was not numbered amongst them.

“I’ll always be honest with you, I promise,” Rita offered unnecessarily. After all, practically anyone who knew her was aware of the fact that the morally upright unusually uniformed officer was basically incapable of deception. “But it’s still nice to hear from you. With all the people in your life playing tug-of-war over you, I know I’m in there. But I don’t want to guilt or manipulate you, I just want the choices that you make to be your own, that’s all. If those choices take you elsewhere… it’s your life. But damned if I will let someone come and take it from you, or deny you choices of what to do with your life. Because it’s YOUR life… well, you and Mona and the kids now, I suppose.”

"As for me being your guide... well, that comes with the job, doesn't it? Senior officers mentor junior officers, and if we don't present the sort of officer we want you to emulate, then what sort of example are we setting?" Shaking her head, Rita chuckled. "Don't you worry about fairness, Miss Dox- that comes with the job, and you'll see it when it's your turn. It just means you know you are being held to a standard, and it's your responsibility to live up to it. But again, just part of the job, part of duty, part of service... part of Starfleet. So I'll do my best not to let you down... which is what I do with every crew member."

"For the record? You do make me proud, Mnhei'sahe," Rita beamed that million-watt smile at the renegade Romulan. "You've learned everything I've taught you, been a true friend and shipmate, and whatever you do in this life... or the next... you'll be great. Not because of anything I did or said, but because you make your choices from a position of what's right, not what's easy."

Returning the smile, Dox ran her hand through her hair and chuckled. "Thank you. I mean it. Although, at this point, I don't know if I'd know how to do things the easy way. It never feels right. And... speaking of not doing things the easy way, I believe we were going to run some wind sprints?"

Recognizing that the mood had grown too somber, Paris nodded. There was the consideration of mischief, of calling for an unexpected start. But Paris already had the longer legs and the leaner frame- cheating would only send a message to the other officer, with whom she’d just had a long talk about morality and honesty, that she was unwilling to convey. “Alright…. to the Deck 3 protrusion and back, but if you go over the edge, you lose that round. Ready?”

Shaking out, Dox knew she had no advantage here and less of a chance to actually win, but in her mind, that wasn't the point. She was there, having fun with her friend and the woman she saw as a sister. That was enough to put a smile on the usually anxious Romulan woman's face as she replied, "Sounds like a plan to me. And happy birthday, Rita "

"Thanks, Mnhei'sahe," Rita grinned in reply, offering a two fingered salute. "Here's to another year older..."

With her feet precariously balanced upon the black, igneous rock face below her, Mnhei'sahe Dox tucked her rear foot in hard and shifted her weight. In her hand, her black-bladed sword glistened as it reflected the haunting, red-gold glows of the flowing magma that surrounded the stone she made purchase upon. Opposite her, on a separate outcropping of ancient stone, Enalia Telvan stood. Rapier in hand, the seasoned sword mistress made a tight lunge at the middle of her subordinate.

Below them were the Firefalls of Gal'Gathong. Situated by the eastern half of the Wall of Fire in the H'aareld va Groth'Chok, the Firefalls were a natural wonder of the red-headed Romulan's homeworld of Romulus, and they were a sight she had never seen with her own eyes. But even on the holodeck, the vista was breathtaking and not just because of the steaming air that they bother were breathing in as they locked swords.

For every thrust or strike, the less-experienced but quick learning Dox parried or blocked successfully. The two women had been training like this, in increasingly distracting locations on the holodeck of the U.S.S. Hera for weeks now, and Dox was getting noticeably better. But today, her sword arm seemed slower than usual. Her focus more split than was typical of the generally studious young woman who was well accustomed to the particularly hard brand of tutelage Enalia Telvan excelled in.

In point of fact, when Dox began training in hand-to-hand contact with her mother as soon as she could walk, it was a harsh style of military discipline. It had served the young Romulan pilot well as an officer and made picking up swordplay easier than not. In truth, she took to the blade naturally, but on this day, she was clearly distracted. And distraction when faced with a blade, was a potentially fatal problem to have. And Enalia decided to reinforce that point.

Feigning an overhead swing down at the young woman, Enalia twisted her sword-arm and her glistening, silver Rapier seemed to almost bend in the air as is swept under Dox's defense, nicking the young woman's chin as she lurched back out of the way at the last second. But, as usual, the blades they trained with were real and so was the slight trickle of green across the young Romulan's chin as she scrunched her face. Not in pain, but in frustration.

"You're distracted! I could have easily killed you several times just now." With that declaration, Enalia sheathed her sword and walked away from the cliff. "Computer, table and two chairs, Trill late Renaissance. Tea set four three seven. Replicate some Daegan ashwood tea with a spot of cinnamon."

Complying with her order, the computer popped the arch up long enough to replicate a glass carafe with the tea and for her to grab it from the holodeck's replicator, then resumed the fiery backdrop. The spotted captain then poured the tea into the ornate teapot before taking a seat and pouring two cups of the aromatic and powerful tea.

"Your enemy isn't going to take the time to find out why you're so distracted, but I'm not your enemy," Enalia explained, motioning towards the open chair. "So talk to me. What's disrupting your usual single-minded devotion to combat?"

Standing on her rock for a moment, Dox's head sunk as she realized her Captain was right. Sheathing her own blade, the frustrated fighter sighed and walked over to where Enalia had set up a spot of tea as she wiped her chin on the sleeve of her black work-out top. Taking a seat, Dox fidgeted slightly with her tea, looking around the representation of where they were as she thought for a moment before replying. 

"I... apologize, Captain. You're right and I don't mean to waste your time. I've just been... well, distracted is about the right word. I've been reviewing the personnel files from Sarkia for the ships that are currently in... what's the term... limbo." Dox took a sip and tried to relax as she finally looked up to meet her Captain's eyes. "Between that, continuing to train Ensign Wieaex for the assistant chief's position... which she is doing excellently at, actually... and communications with my... with the Senator and... everything else. I'm feeling a bit... stretched thin."

"Like too much jelly scraped over a piece of toast? Or however the humans put it?" Enalia grinned wryly for a moment before sipping her tea and trying to look more serious. "So what are you doing to relieve stress? What are you doing to enjoy life?"

"Humans have... strange expressions." Dox chuckled lightly. "My... adopted grandparents on Earth said things I'm still trying to figure out. But... I'll admit that relaxing.... relaxing isn't my strong suit. I tend to just go to my office and read section reports or find some other kind of work to do to try and get my mind off of stress."

"Or do something like this until I hurt myself, which isn't the safest tactic. And not one Mona prefers." the red-headed Romulan admitted with a sigh. "What about you? You have to manage everything? The ship and all of us AND the Artan fleet. What do you do?"

Enalia motioned towards the Firefalls. "This is part of it. I find this sort of thing relaxing. I also make a point of going home and spending time with my family. Maica and I do a few hobbies together. With as many close calls and near-death experiences, I've come to realize all too well that I could die at any time and I couldn't live with myself if I didn't enjoy what time I have now if something were to happen to me."

"I know that sounds odd, living with myself if I died... But as a joined Trill, trust me, it makes sense," Enalia added with a wink.

The anxious officer chuckled slightly at the joke from her Captain. Then, looking around, Dox's expression dipped slightly. "This... coming to places like this in here used to relax me. At least before. Now... now just thinking about Romulus. Well, it's part of the problem." 

The young woman took a sip of her tea and looked down into the cup for a long moment. "I go home to spend time with my family, and I'm never coming back. I have Mona here and all of you. Our children on the way. I even... inexplicably... have my mother. But this... the place I wanted all my life to go to and the one day I stood on this planet was almost my last as a free woman. And yet, still... in spite of everything... I still want to come back here. Hnaev... it's not even my real home. I wasn't even born here, but it's still where my mind goes when I think of any home other than the Hera."

"And I know she's still trying to get me back. She's going about it the long way. Giving me the choice and making it a responsibility. But I know she will eventually press the point again, Captain." Dox said, looking out over the representation of one of Romulus' natural wonders. "My Grandmother."

"Well, I'm all about choice and free will. You know that." The Trill Captain paused a moment to sip at her tea before continuing on. "But there are three things I've learned growing up. One... Nothing worth doing is ever easy. You take what's handed to you without preparing for it and something is bound to either go wrong or you won't have the training for it or... There's always something. It's one of the reasons I'm in Starfleet now. Why I'm studying the Federation. So I can build the Artan Empire into the best it can be. "

"Two... You have to make sure every decision is yours. Sure, listen to advice from others and hear them out. But don't be enticed by anything. Make your own choices based on your own reasoning rather than your passions or someone else's convictions or plans for you."

"Three... And this is a big one I'm sure you've heard before... You're not alone. Starfleet, Artan fleet... Each one you have people you can trust. The more responsibility you have, the more you have to delegate. Don't take everything directly on your shoulders or it'll crush you. You have to make time to enjoy life as well as making life better for others, after all. Or at least, that's how I find it fulfilling."

"That all being said, personally I don't think you're ready to run off and be either a full-time Senator or Baroness. You need more experience and that takes hard work that you're already putting in as both a Starfleet Lieutenant Commander and Diplomat." Enalia then eyed Dox over her cup of tea as she paused a moment to let her words sink in. "But that's just an opinion so take it with a granule of sodium chloride."

"I know I'm not ready. I'm doing my best to learn as much of this all as I can as quickly as I can." Dox replied, looking back at Enalia and taking a sip of tea. "I still have no idea what I'm doing just diplomatically representing her in the reunification discussion. I'm terrified knowing every word I say can be interpreted a dozen or more ways when I talk to the Senate. They're all judging me and looking for a window to tear down what my Grandmother is trying to do. What we're trying to do."

"There's an old Romulan saying... what good is a word with only one meaning?" Dox said with a light, awkward smirk. "I... wasn't raised in that culture. I was raised knowing about it, but not immersed in it. It makes me something of a poor excuse for a Romulan in a lot of respects, and I'm still playing catch up to keep up with that level of... manipulation and wordplay."

"Take this as you will, but you make a far better human than Romulan," Enalia interjected with a hint of a grin. "Or maybe a Trill politician if you weren't so hot-blooded."

The young woman with a decidedly green cut on her chin grinned slightly and nodded as she thought about Enalia's words. In truth, Dox still hated the word 'Romulan'. It was the anglicized name that humans gave to her people, the Rihannsuin their own language, and in her mind, it represented everything she hated about her people. The duplicity and backstabbing. The lies and deceit that have come to represent who she is to the galaxy as a whole. She hated what it represented but was working to try and take the teeth out of that word as best as possible. But it was harder when she found herself embroiled in very Romulan politics. 

After a second of thinking, Dox looked back and replied, smiling. "I've met enough Romulans that would agree with that assessment. And I'll take your word for it regarding Trill politics."

"As for the fleet, I have been looking over the data Baroness Sarika gave me, and I have at least the beginnings of an idea. And it's like you said... I'm not alone. I keep thinking of the Golden Ghost." Dox segued, starting to talk with her hands. "Commander Helev t'Liun has a solid crew that... well... I do trust. They have had multiple opportunities to sell us out to the Tal'Shiar and didn't take it. And I got to talk with a few of the higher-ranking officers."

"I think that she may be able to help here. I trust her and her people. I'd like to talk to her and, if possible, name her my second. She's loyal, smart and committed to reunification. If she were to recommend some of her most trusted, responsible senior officers, we could conceivably split them up among some of these ships that need both direction and leadership. With a bit of organization, that would give Commander t'Liun a small fleet to structure supply runs and help protect these colonies." Dox finished her train of thought, looking to Enalia for any reaction, up or down, to see if what she said made any sense.

Knowing that most in the Artan fleet would take her word as gospel truth, but that Dox would only take it as advice, Enalia finished off her tea and set her cup down in front of her. "If that's your decision, do it. It sounds like you have a path forward already so what's holding you back?"

"Well, It would be deferring responsibility to Helev, and I would need to talk to her about it first, of course. Not everyone is as... hot-blooded as I am when it comes to accepting a new mountain of responsibilities." Dox replied, nodding slightly. "I'm... not particularly good at... deferring to people under me. Fvadt, I'm not good at having people under me. I'm working on being better. I mean, I have an entire department under me here but I'm still bad about taking too much of the responsibilities on myself." 

"And that's why I'm of the opinion you're not ready to run off and be either a Senator or a Baroness full time. Both jobs require so much delegation..." Taking a moment to pour herself a fresh cup of tea and refresh Dox's cup, Enalia continued. "But from the Mol'Krunchi mission reports on both sides it seems Doctor t'Luin is pretty good at leading her own people. It also sounds like she bristles at being called Commander. I'd love to be there to see how she takes to being called Second."

"Indeed. Somewhere out in the Bata Quadrant, I'm sure her ears are burning with me calling her that." Dox smiled and let out a more relaxed laugh, remembering t'Liun chewing out her own officers for calling her 'commander'. "I know she prefers 'Doctor' or 'Maenek', but in this case, I was erring on the side of clarity, I suppose."

Then, the young officer's head dipped again as she fell deep in thought for a moment before continuing. "But... ultimately, I don't want to run off anywhere. I... I'm happy here. I've got family. I've... I hope I have friends. I'm learning how to be better at all the things I need to be better at. I'm learning how to delegate with good people under me that I trust and that I actually like. I have a career that's actually moving forward. I'm p..."

Stopping herself from directly saying she was proud of her accomplishments, Dox course-corrected and continued, "We do... we do good work here, on the Hera. I don't want to be a senator or have a fleet. I want to be here."

The Trill woman set aside her cup of tea and reached out to rest one hand gently on one of her friend's hands and squeezed gently. "And as your captain, your queen, but most importantly as your friend... I am very proud of you and all your accomplishments. I'm proud of everyone's, but you've done more than I think anyone could reasonably expect of anyone mortal."

"Thank you, Captain. I... very much appreciate that. And... as for what I want, mortal is definitely high on that list." Dox allowed an awkward grin to crease her cheek as she thought of the other person putting responsibilities on her. The woman called Masato Rei, the embodiment of Death itself that had seemingly picked the anxious aviatrix as a possible successor. 

Unfortunately, Enalia was caught sipping her tea when the realization that Dox was ALSO being pulled as the successor of the VIP guest of the Hera on deck eight Masato Rei, the literal avatar and embodiment of Death and she almost choked on said tea. Coughing and setting her tea down again, she had to clarify. "Excuse me... What? Please tell me Death isn't grooming you too..."

Leaning her head back and letting out a sigh, Dox had to chuckle a little bit at the absurdity of it. "Heh... Apparently, yes. Although with that, I have until I actually die to have to worry about it. So... like I said... I'm feeling a little stretched thin as of late."

"Well... I may have to have a talk with our guest. But I'm glad that she's made friends at least." Enalia took a moment to dab at her mouth with the corner of a napkin - a surprisingly dainty action for a Pirate Queen.

"She doesn't have many, Captain." Dox said, her innate and considerably atypical compassion for a Romulan was showing as her face lightened. "Most of the time, we just talk over a meal. Usually about my day, as she likes hearing about it. Generally, the only people she can talk to are other cosmic entities, who I'm guessing aren't the most causal conversationalists, or people that can only see her... because they're dying. It's... Impossibly isolating."

"So, we just talk. Or I feed her horse, Taxes. It's only been since after the kidnapping that I found out. And... As I understand it, it's not something she's chosen for me as much as it's something... It's hard to explain as... honestly... I don't fully understand it. But... It's something to do with me. I can open one of her books. I can touch her horse. Apparently, mortals generally can't do those things. So, it's more that I'm... qualified."

"But it's still my choice. She's not pressuring me or anything. Most of the stress I'm feeling is me being me." Dox said, awkwardly bit sincerely.

"Fair enough," Enalia replied, musing over her encounter with another such being. "If a being called the White Rabbit is like her, then I fear she may be the most personable of these cosmic entities. It also makes me wonder just how many of them there are. Either way, I suggest not worrying about it until we're both far older and putting on grey hairs."

Smirking, Dox couldn't help but chuckle lightly at the memory of her own dreamlike encounter with the same cosmic entity. "Oh, the Rabbit. I've... I've actually met her once. I thought it was a dream at the time, but... yeah... She's not the best at carrying on a lucid conversation."

"But I will try and not stress about that. Sometimes... I think I stress more for her. If that makes sense." Dox continued, becoming more serious again as she did.

The Trill woman just sighed heavily and finished off her tea in one go. "And that brings us back around to how you relieve stress. You need to find something, whether it be family, training, relaxing with a hot cup of tea with friends... And stick to it."

Thinking about Enalia's words for a moment, Dox sat back in her chair and knitted her brows slightly. "I run once a week with Commander Paris. I spar with V'Nus or S'Rina. A lot of physical stuff that... doesn't seem to help as much as it... used to."

The young Romulan woman looked up and nodded to herself. "There's something... I used to whenever I could when I was younger that... I actually haven't done it since coming on board. I had this old roll-up keyboard. I used to... well, It's... It's somewhat silly."

"You know what's silly?" Enalia asked with full seriousness. "My mother smashed my favorite plastic teacup when I was four and now I collect teacups and tea sets. I have so many of them, I own a castle in the Swiss Alps on Earth just to store the ones that don't fit in the Artan Orbital Fortress. The ones that don't fit there go in a secure facility I maintain in the frozen northern wastes of Trillius Prime. If I liquidate my assets in teacups alone, I could buy every acre of land in the Federation's founding worlds. So you tell me this..."

"Who am I to judge what's silly? Tell me about this roll-up keyboard."

At that, the anxiety in Dox's stomach released itself and she smiled warmly. Nodding, she replied as she ran her finger across the holographic teacup that the Captain had ordered up, which even as a replica was quite beautiful. "Well...I got it from a Ferengi trader we used to do business with back on the Forager, named Denog. It was maybe half a meter. Well, it still is."

Referencing her generally miserable childhood on the smuggling ship she grew up on with her mother, Dox seemed more wistful speaking about it than usual. "Mother thought it a waste of time, but I had an allowance of credits from my work on the ship and I bought it from him. I... I didn't know how to play, but I tried figuring it out on my own when I didn't have any other studies or duties. And..."

Bushing slightly, Dox grinned. "So... the Forager was a pile of shaill'hnaev and the engine knocked all the time. So... what I started to do was just... make up music. I would use the knocking of the engine as a base line and come up with songs around it. I used to do that a lot. Even when I was still on Starbase 17 before coming here. Only there, it was the rhythmic banging of the air reclamation system."

Taking a sip, Dox looked up at the sky of the simulated Romulus, but was really thinking about the Hera herself. "Of course here, Commander sh'Zorathi would never let anything actually knock, so I have no baseline to work with. But... I suppose I just let it fall to the side. I jumped headlong into my duties to the exclusion of anything that detracted from a..."

"I sound just like my mother, ugh. I looked on it as a waste of time. It didn't make me a better pilot or a better section chief in any quantifiable ways, so I put the keyboard in a box in the closet and... forgot about it. But..." Dox had a slightly wistful expression. "Maybe I need a little non-quantifiable relaxation."

"If it helps, then it helps," Enalia replied softly and encouragingly, wondering if she should start making plans to hunt down an organ or a grand piano or something like that as a present. Best she leave such things to Maica - she always goes overboard, after all. "Plus you've got a wife and three kids on the way. I'm told Miradonians are naturally musically inclined. Mona might even start singing again."

Smiling almost conspiratorily, Dox leaned in slightly. "She does. When she doesn't know if anyone else is listening, I think. But she... she hums in the shower and she sings to the children sometimes. It's... I hope she does more, too. I think it's... it's beautiful. I love it."

At that, the young Romulan mother-to-be blushed slightly but smiled broadly as she thought of her growing family. "All the girls are already thrumming like Mona. I can feel their rhythms whenever I touch her. Sometimes they match her patterns and... sorry. It's sometimes the good kind of overwhelming."

"That... Honestly, it's heartwarming." Enalia smiled softly as she stared down into her teacup for a moment before shaking herself out of her short reverie. "So... Feel any better? Ready to learn something that my mother refused to teach me?"

"Actually, I do. Thank you, Captain." Dox replied with a soft smile of her own. In spite of getting more comfortable calling the Captain by name during their recent Sojourn to Risa for Baroness Von Alcot's bachelorette party, on the Hera itself, Dox was still more comfortable differing to the Trill queen's rank appropriately. Then she raised an eyebrow at Enalia's question. "I suppose I'm as ready as I'll ever be."

"Excellent," Enalia replied, rising to her feet and drawing her sword. "Because I noticed that Rendal was willing to put her life on the line when fighting me... And this series of moves requires that... And something to live for, which I suspect she also has. However, she never struck two points at once."

That smug piratical grin of hers was back.

"I'm about to teach you how to strike all nine."

Rising and stepping slightly to the side of the table, Dox drew her own sword. It was a curved, black blade that was replicated by the Hera from scans of a sword kept hidden in her quarters. It was a replica of the S'harien blade, known as the legendary sword of S'task, the founder of Romulus. A possession that represented yet another responsibility thrust upon her. And while she refused to wield the real blade, this colorless replica helped her focus on her goals. And one of those goals was to make sure that Commander Dalia Rendal of the Tal'Shiar died at her own hands.

Nodding as she shook her sword arm out slightly, Dox replied a little more flatly with her focus restored and her eyes determined. "I'm ready. Show me."

"Then defend yourself and try not to die." In that moment Enalia was no longer her captain, her queen, nor her friend. She was her mortal enemy.

Death rode with her for the next lesson.

Having been directed to the cybernetic and intel lab run by one Yeoman Ila Dedjoy in the pod of the mighty nebula class ship USS Hera by the computer, the new hybrid synthetic life form Aiva now waited patiently to be let in by the owner of that lab so that the first gamut of tests and clearances could begin.

Externally, she looked like every other holographic black haired, black-eyed, Trill maid hologram that had been customized with cat ears and a tail... But internally, the holographics were hiding a barn red and steel cybernetic frame that carried her holomatrix and her very essence as well as the emitters that created the skin that people saw. As for her programming, while Sarika did her best, it was not a great job of shoving the original maid programming, secretarial programming, the Daystrom's ethics, learning, and protocol programming, and a few other things together.

In other words, as she waited for access to the lab where she would be investigated, even she, with her rudimentary level of sentience was amazed she functioned.


Chief Intelligence Officer Clemens had been putting together a complete isolation area for the interview, which would be concurrent with a scan of the incoming android, down to the quantum level, for the sake of security, and just plain avoiding messiness later, as well.

His plan was to treat her as he would treat an asset that was suspected of having been mind-controlled by very sophisticated methods. Not her fault, but these things had to be checked and re-checked, and best done without the direct knowledge of the target.

With the discovery of technology that could host portable extra-dimensional storage spaces, it was a strong suspicion of his that entire databanks and processing units might be hidden in a similar way, invisible and inaccessible to the host until an activation circumstance came to pass- and after Mudd's machinations within wheels within schemes, he planned to uncover anything and everything extant to the Neko-girl with the Maximillian-like subframe underneath.

He was natively-paranoid, to begun with, but his protectiveness of his Captain, her wife, and their wee one had ratched up to near-fanaticism, considering all the booby-traps they kept uncovering from the time of her mother's death.

As for Yeoman Dedjoy, she had been busy preparing her own cybernetic cradle for scanning the new life form for malware, foreign matter, and anything that might not belong. She too was overly protective of her captain and Enalia's family as well as the ship and crew in her own way and was dedicated to doing her job to the best of her ability.

Even if it meant picking this maid apart on the quantum level and putting her back together.

Doc Power, the EMH, was just there to provide assistance with additional programming and judging by the looks of the other two, figured he'd have to act as the sentient rights protector for the poor girl about to step into this den of pit vipers about to tear her apart one piece at a time. Hopefully, they weren't actually going to disassemble her... But he didn't put it past them.

Yeoman Dedjoy took one last look around the lab and nodded. "With your permission..." Receiving a solemn nod from Sam, Ila headed to the door and unsecured it, letting the Trill catgirl maid in. "Hello and welcome to the pod cybernetics lab. I'm Yeoman Ila Dedjoy. This is Lieutenant Samuel Clemens. And this is Doctor Adam Power, our EMH. We'll be clearing you for service and providing you with any additional software you may request."

As Aiva stepped into the room, she immediately bowed politely. "Thank you for your assistance. I am Autonomous Initiative Vehicular Assistant, Aiva one. You may refer to me as Aiva if it pleases you. I look forward to working with all of you."

Sam, dressed in his Intel charcoal coveralls, smiled through his classic Missouri Brushtache at the girl. "Pleased ta meetcha, Miss Aiva. We're jus' gonna be checkin' you over t'make sure all the different Lego sets are fittin' like they should, and if'n you like, we'll see about adjustin' th'fit so it feels more natural for ya. No one likes feelin' outta sorts."

The hodge-podge synthetic bowed again. "I thank you for your kindness. Anything that aids me in my primary functions of etiquette and protocol for Captain Telvan and her family, as well as secretarial duties relating to Artan logistical matters, would be greatly appreciated."

"In that regard, we've been forwarded initial scans and data on you and it seems you're essentially a mining and service robot that's had a simple holomatrix core and holo-emitters installed into you? That seems to be... power-hungry and inefficient. Lieutenant Clemens, once we're done with the interrogation and inspection... I assume you're thinking what I'm thinking."

That was when Doc Power felt a need to intervene, wrapping one arm around her protectively with one hand on each of her shoulders. "Any and all modifications will go through me and will be approved by Aiva. Her sentience, whether basic or as organic as yours... Will be protected while I'm here." After eliciting a smile from the black-haired woman, the holo-doc continued. "Now, if we could proceed with the clearance check?"

"Of course. If you would please step into this chamber, we can begin the scans." The doll eyed yeoman motioned towards the cybernetics cradle that she now held open for Aiva.

"...and remember, Doc- we're here to get her clear, not eliminate her. Ah promise you both that my plans don't include threatenin' her sentient status. They do include makin' her into th'best protector for her new family that I can make her." Clemens' tone seemed genuine, and empathetic, and somewhat urgent, in fact. "She'll not be harmed on my watch."

As Doc Power helped Aiva into the cybernetics cradle and closed it up, he nodded reassuringly to her. "And I'm here for the same reason, but I'm also here for her. I've heard about the liberal modifications the both of you have taken with your own bodies and I'll not allow you such free reign with an innocent. That's all I'm saying."

Aiva tried to bow again, but immediately found it impossible while in the frame as the scanners activated. "Thank you, Doctor. I have little experience and nothing to go on other than what was preloaded so any assistance is helpful."

As he worked on getting the quantum scanning calibrated to their young guest, the Chief Spook casually pointed out, "...y'know, Doc- all I did was decline the biosynthetic limbs when I found out their runtime was only about two years. The Commodore sent me this equipment, and it's served us pretty well. You were there for most everything discussed, before, during, and after. I deliberately went for as close an exterior match to my original limbs as possible- no flaming 8-balls or truckstop logos." He gestured his tool over at Ila, and continued, "And Dedjoy, here, didn't even *have* a body- she had to design and build one after we nearly lost her. We're not vanity cases, Doc- we're survivors who are grateful for second chances, and who are canny enough to know that opportunities to increase our survival rates ought to be taken seriously- we do the things that others don't even know need doing, without fanfare or thanks."

Clemens had started to get a head of steam going, but paused, and took a breath. "Anything I suggest for this young person is going to be for her safety and that of those she cares for. It'll be up to her. But I'm not about to skimp on things that could save her life or that of the Captain's family. I appreciate the work you did on me, I do. But we're on the same side."

"And I'm simply advising caution. After all, as a new life I want to make sure she's fully aware of the implications of each choice. Plus, her listed duties do not include firing upon intruders or scanning for toxins. On top of that, the possibility of overloading her very young matrix is a very real possibility." As Doc Power grinned politely, he turned from Sam to Aiva herself. "My dear, I apologize for speaking about you as if you're not here. Do you mind telling us what your total run time is and how long until your personality matrix is properly compiled?"

The hodgepodge synthetic paused for a moment as she calculated the times before responding. "I have been operational, including testing time, for approximately seventeen hours, forty-two minutes. My matrix compile is estimated to be complete in another thirty-four hours nineteen minutes."

"You're still a babe..." Dedjoy muttered before another thought struck her. "Wait, how did you know she was still compiling?"

"My dear, I'm a doctor. Diagnosing people is what I do," replied the smug EMH.

Sam finished the calibration and isolation setup, and turned to Aiva. "Aw-right. We're ready to get started. While these tests are invasive, you shouldn't feel anythin' during them. To put it simply, we're gonna check you all the way down to the quantum level- every system and subsystem, every place where someone might have tried to add in things that wouldn't be appropriate for a governess to be sportin'. Once we have the analysis, we'll review it for security purposes, then for threats it might pose to you, and then we'll go over our conclusions with you, so you can make informed decisions about anything we might find."

He was gentle with his speech, and might well have been speaking paternally, had she been kin, and his demeanor showed it. He waited for her thoughts on the matter.

"Thank you, Lieutenant," Aiva replied, again trying to bow but being stopped by the frame she was in. "I too look forward to seeing what I am made of."

"While he's doing that," Yeoman Dedjoy added, a soft smile on her face - which was definitely a rarity. "I've linked with your holomatrix so that the Doctor and Lucky can review your programming for any malicious code."

The Intel Pod was a modern wonder of science and pseudo-arcane research, and, as such, had capabilities that rivaled the toolsets of some god-like beings. The quantum scan that should, by rights, have taken days in any other setting, at current state-of-the-art levels for the galactic empires in Mutter's Spiral, completed in only three hours. Clemens had been studying the technologies and, well, magicks, encapsulated in the Pod That Should Not be for over a year, and still had only scratched the surface of its capabilities.

"Ding!" he quipped, as the scan finished, and the data began compiling itself into reports on his screens.

"Miss Aiva," he began, as he scanned through them quickly...

"...looks like you're quantum-clean! No external connections to points unknown have been found. On the more mundane items that were scanned, though..." he scrolled quickly.

"Your subframe, as I suspected it would, being a Ferenginar Special, is kinda loaded with snooping devices- unregistered, at current. A pretty nifty sensor pack, and a nice little tight-beam subspace transceiver. Gotta say, the lobed ones make a nice spy pack. None of it's active, and I can rip out all the protocols and software, and give control of the units to you exclusively, if you like. They'd be your property. Might make for good baby monitoring and they'd give you the ability to scan for threats in the area, along with the ability to yell for help if the family were in danger. Entirely up to you if you want to keep them. Now, let's see..." he kept scrolling, and shook his head.

"However, the Ferengi skimp where they can, to cause repeat maintenance requirements for profit. Most of your actuators, motors, and bearings are really low-quality- some are even rigged to deliberately fail just outside the standard warranty period. I strongly recommend you let us fabricate good, solid replacements for all of them, so you can depend on your new body for a long time to come."

Before Aiva could reply, Doc Power and the pod's AI, Lucky, added in their report as well. "The software from Daystom has the usual license agreement in it which is... extraneous? But isn't harming anything. I have the same thing in my subroutines," Doc power clarified before calling attention to something a bit more sinister. "There is something in your base code that I'm worried about. The original maid programming includes external monitoring software - likely for the hive mentality of the system. It's not connected to anything in your case, but there's a possibility of someone with the right access connecting to you and seeing and hearing everything you do. I recommend removing these protocols completely."

The hybrid synthetic life form nodded solemnly, trying to work through what she was being told. "This is all so new to me... I know that for the safety of Captain Telvan and her family any attempts at espionage must be thwarted... And the betterment of my abilities such as those would greatly enhance my ability to perform my primary functions..."

Closing her eyes, Aiva contemplated her options for several seemingly long moments before reopening her eyes and replying. "I accept your proposed modifications to my chassis and programming. Disengaging holographic skin." With a shimmer, the humanoid appearance of the woman vanished and the underlying brownish-red and black jointed cybernetic servant framework was exposed. It was little more than the equivalent of metallic bones and muscles, but at least it had all the major body parts. "Please be gentle..."

That was when Ila spoke up with an offer. "I um... Do you mind if I replicate some skin for you? And some clothes? I promise I'll use your programmed specifications. I'll make the skin from the same biosynthetic matter the Doctor approved for me." Ila added that last when Doc Power shot her a warning look.

During all this, Clemens had already started work on taking back the sensor and comm suite for Aiva's exclusive use, replacing the entire OS of the unit with a rock-solid intrusion-foiled Intel core, triply-hardened for secure use. While the replacements were integrating, he began the replacement of all substandard materials in the physical frame, using precision tensor beams to hold the surrounding structures as they should be, and beaming the perfect, new combat-sturdy parts in place, as he micro fused them into the mounts, one by one, whistling as he did so, some old, forgotten tunes, or ancient melodies.

He was smiling through his handlebars, nodding, and giving encouraging looks to the young AI, as he went, section by section, making certain she could trust her parts completely.

"I think this'll do very nicely, Miss Aiva. Sturdy joints, muscles, 'n bones, so you'll never wonder about them. Dependable- what my pap used to call good workmanship..."

"Thank you so very much, all of you. I believe that even if I had an imagination or predictive subroutine, I never would have been able to foresee the kindness that you have all shown me." Even without a face on her endoskeletal frame, you could hear the sincerity and kindness forming in the young lifeform's voice. "And yes, I would like to accept your offer of a non-holographic skin. My calculations have determined that it would increase my operation capabilities and efficiency greatly. Thank you."

While the EMH just shook his head and went about disabling the monitoring algorithms in Aiva's subroutines, Ila pulled the holographic data for her body and did some comparative layer and density matching for her new skin. "I can replicate the skin directly onto you, but it'll take a few hours to design it, then a few more hours for each layer so that it feels and acts natural."

"Don't forget to give her a pulse," added Doc Power.

"Pulse... Breath... All the normal humanoid functions like that," confirmed Yeoman Dedjoy. "Lieutenant, that's some clever bonding work on those joints. I might have to have you look over some schematics I've been working on later."

As he finished up the fusing work with a burnishing tool, smoothing the entire exoskeleton from any defects, Sam replied, "Sure thing, Yoh'mn. Learned that trick from an old Yxian out in the mining belts of Trexel. Said she couldn't stand to watch my clumsy, anymore. Th' trick is to make it as organic as y'can, because any sharpness can cause coverings to wear badly..."

"There ya go! Ready fer the next layer!"

"Definitely masterful work. I'll need you to install some adapters so that the skin has power for functions, growth, and healing. Projecting their placement now." Ila tapped a few controls and a dozen small bio-synthetic components were replicated in a medical tray at the same time placement markers were painted on Aiva with light. "If you don't mind, that is."

Sam was nodding, "....on it." He activated the tensor fields at the areas indicated in her diagrams, and placed the units at each point, and quickly began deftly running power feeds with protection circuits to each one, ending the process with the fusing tools to secure them, at speeds that were somewhat blurry, humming a little ditty as he went. Every so often, he'd flash a brilliant smile at Aiva, and ask her some little thing, keeping her engaged in the process as he went.

"...annnd....done. Did we forget anything? Color-changing hair? Extra ears for when she really likes the song?" he grinned, winking at Aiva.

As soon as Sam was done and clear, Yeoman Dedjoy started the frame's spinnerets and the printing process for the outer body began in a cotton candy-like process, micro-tractors guiding and bonding each filament into place faster than almost any being could actually see.

"This will take another six hours so hold as still as possible, if you don't mind," Ila said, finishing up the programming before looking up. "As for options, her holo-emitters are still in place and her hair follicles are like mine - already able to shift color, so if she wants to temporarily shift her color appearance, then it's well within her ability."

The doll eyed Yeoman then looked up to the young android whose facial features were now being printed from the inside out. "And if you get tired of anything and want to look a little different... Or a lot different... You just let me know and we can start fresh."

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

Just over six hours later, the final touches of Aiva's printing were complete, clothes, fury ears and tail, and all and she was stepping out of the cybernetics frame a new woman. Ila offered her a hand and she daintily took it with her freshly gloved hand, gingerly touching the woman's fingers at first and her eyes widening as she let herself fully grasp another person's hand. The sensations were completely new to her and her eyes were almost overwhelming, not to mention the auditory input. It took her several more moments before she worked up the nerve just to step down to the actual deck plating.

"Welcome to your new reality, Aiva." Ila smiled welcomingly on one side with the EMH Doc Power on the other monitoring her program and the interactions with her new body, a worried look on his face. Off on a cot, Sam was sawing logs, somehow still in that accent of his.

"Thank you... I... This is... Wow..." So many inputs were trying to be processed through her at once, it seemed overwhelming, but she was starting to get the hang of it. "Is this really how biologicals experience the world?"

"Having been both biological and synthetic..." Ila began, mulling it over and nodding her head slightly. "Yeah, maybe a bit more, but generally yes."

The young life form then straightened up and composed herself, a polite smile crossing her face as the tips of her hair faded slightly to red, her cat ears twitching slightly and her cat tail raised in excitement. "Then I thank you for all that you've done for me." She then bowed deeply once more.

"I look forward to serving Captain Telvan as her adjunct and secretary in all Artan matters and serving her family in whatever manner they require."

Walking down the corridor of the Hera, Mnhei'sahe Dox wasn't using her more standard, martial past that she picked up from Rita Paris. Instead, she was taking an almost leisurely past. As she passed other crew members, she instigated minor and admittedly awkward interactions where she could. She was clearly stalling.

She was also clearly in pain. Favoring her right arm, the young Romulan Lieutenant Commander looked presentable in her workout clothes with a black sheathed, curved sword on her hip, but she was holding her arm in a tight cross. She was trying to look like she was just crossing her arms, but it was clear to anyone that was observant that she was nursing an injury. The small green cut on her chin was quite a prominent clue as to why she was stalling.

Her first meeting with the ship's new Chief Medical Officer, Doctor Tovanna Mah, hadn't gone as well as it could have, with a considerable amount of tension rising around Dox's unusual friendship with the woman called Masato Rei.

The embodiment of Death, itself.

I'm truth, REI was grooming Dox to possibly take over in the role at the end of the young Romulan's life, but only Dox's wife Mona, Captain Telvan and Commander Paris knew that. But Dox still was hoping that the EMH was on duty and she felt extremely uncomfortable and awkward around the ship's new surgeon.

Stepping inside, she looked around. It was after-hours, and the expansive sickbay was not that busy. Ensign Fortunroy from Stellar Cartography seemed to be nursing a fall and his knee was bandaged on one table. There was Lieutenant Junior Grade M'Rian, a VERY pregnant Caitian talking with Nurse Tathaa, both women smiling.

As a nurse greeted Dox, the young Bolean woman smiled at the crotchety Romulan. "Commander Dox? Let me guess… combat training injury?"

Smirking sarcastically, Dox tilted her head and replied somewhat casually to the blue-skinned bald woman who had seen Dox many a time in sickbay. "Of course, Nurse T'Romma. Is Doctor Power available?"

Turning to direct Dox in, the young Bolean pointed to a medbay table and scoffed. "Afraid not. He's delivering Ensign Freoon's twins in the other wing. But if you'll take your usual seat, Doctor Mah will be with you in a jiffy."

Sighing, Dox stepped over to what the ships prior CMO, Dox's best friend, Asa Dael, referred to as her 'private medbed' in bay five. The red-headed young officer was notoriously prone to workout-related injuries as well as getting hurt on away missions, and tended to get biobed five.

"Thank you." Dox said, with a reserved sigh as she sat on the humorously dubbed 'Dox Suite' and waited as Nurse T'Romma left to complete other duties.

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

Dr. Mah walked over, obviously much more comfortable in sickbay than at the festivities. She moved with a confident ease in the area most preferred not to be in and looked up at Dox with a warm smile, "Reserved just for you as promised, so what did you injure for me today?" This was a very different aspect to the guarded, almost hesitant woman she saw at the party. This was like the fighter less the cold anger, well equipped to handle what came her way. This was obviously where she was at home, in the chaos, surrounded by sounds and organized mayhem that was medical. It was no wonder she despised fighting, though her mastery of pandemonium was obviously useful during battle, she was a healer. It was easy to understand her disdain for anyone needlessly being put in harms way and likely her reaction to the Captain's opponent for placing so many at risk. "By the cradling of your arm I'm going to guess I should start there?"

Blushing a slight shade of green, common for someone with copper-based, green blood, Dox kitted her eyebrows slightly as she answered uncomfortably, "Yes. I... I have been undergoing an... extensive sword-fighting training regimen with the Captain. She is a sienov’alha... uh, sorry. It means 'swordmaster'. I'm proficient and better than not, but nowhere near her level."

Correcting herself as she slipped into her native tongue, the young Romulan continued as she stiffly took off her top so the doctor could see. Her arm, where she was favoring it, had a massive, greenish-black bruise on it that stretched the length of her upper arm. There were also, slightly smaller bruises on her belly, other forearm, and trapezius area. She looked almost as spotted as their Trill Captain as a result. "We... ramped up the intensity level a bit and I had to step inside her swings and took a few pommel hits and elbows avoiding her blade. Considering the only actual cut is just this on my chin, I think my defense is getting a little better."

Tovanna did a thorough exam of her patient from top head to toe. With 60 years of medical practice she was able to detect not only the new wounds from the recent sparring match with the Captain, but older wounds as well that were healed without the intervention of proper medical assistance. "So other than sparring with the captain, have there been any other strenuous activities you have been partaking in? I'm detecting older physical injuries as well." She looked at the results of her scan with concern, comparing them to the latest readings she had from her predecessor.

Looking down for a second, Dox pursed her lips. She knew she was going to have to explain her somewhat bizarre history to the ship's new doctor, but she hadn't been looking forward to it. Nervously, she ran a finger over an ear as she replied. "My last real injuries that were... not well taken care of at the time happened about... 4 months ago during my captivity on a Romulan Warbird. I spent about a week and a half shackled to a metal chair and had some fairly extensive bruising that the doctor on that ship wasn't particularly... diligent in regards to the healing of. I received much better treatment on the Artan ship that was used in my rescue, but by then a lot had healed on its own."

"Other than that... well..." Dox fumbled over her words as she got more anxious. "Can we say I had an... aggressive childhood and skip the larger details? It's... nothing that isn't buried at the bottom of my Starfleet Medical and Psych files. My mother... trained me from a very young age to be able to protect myself if the Tal'Shiar ever came for me. A lot of that involved learning how to deal with pain and function through it. Sorry, I know it's not the most pleasant subject."

Tova nodded in understanding, "No worries, you are not the first patient I've had who has gone through early life training. The issue you have is the eventual aging complications that can occur with so many fractures of various depths, so much built up scar tissue and soft tissue calcification. Unless you want to retire early to a desk job, these issues will need to be addressed to keep you in prime fighting condition. Obviously these are not mandatory issues, however, it is your choice how you would like the future of your career to proceed in the next decades." She hated giving anyone such a prognosis and knew that Dox, with her Romulan lifespan, had at least another 75 years in her future career, but at the rate she was going it would only be 75 years of active duty without heavy intervention.

Looking slightly surprised, the anxious Romulan pursed her lips slightly and it was clear that she had not expected that, as the faintest hint of an accent began to leak out thanks to her momentary nerves. "That... doesn't sound ideal. Uh... I exercise regularly beyond just combat training, but what... what can we do about this, Doctor?"

Dr. Mah smiled at her reassuringly, "We can rectify the issue with a series of treatments for you. It would be basic correction of the previous injuries that are heavily calcified. We can also reconstruct the tissue so you will no longer have the extensive scar tissue build-up. Any nerve or connective tissue damage should also be corrected in the process. In the end you should have greater mobility with less overall pain. The only downside is future damage will hurt like hell since you will no longer have all the scar tissue to shield you." She calculated the treatment plan schedule, "It looks like a total of four treatements should work. One each for the bones, soft tissue, connective tissue, and nervous system. They should take about an hour each with a thirty-minute observation and recovery. They be no closer than seven days together, however afterwards you should feel much better than you have been. Does this seem like an acceptable plan to you?" Tova wanted to see her patient in top condition for fighting. It was obvious the woman had no plan to stop so it was best to give her the best odds to do so.

"Ahhh... 'treatments'." Dox said, rolling her eyes slightly and smirking a little. "Sorry. It's... not my first series of treatments in here. When I first joined the ship and Doctor Dael discovered the tampering to my DNA, that was... a couple of weeks to fix that were... interesting. But, yes. Yes, we should address it now. Thank you."

Dr. Mah could see that the young woman feared something else was going to be suggested and wondered what it could be. Starfleet want known for medical treatments that we're more aggressive than absolutely needed in the most due of situations. What had been done that would warrant such a fear? "I'm just curious, what did you think I would suggest other than treatments, rest or a course of rehab? The days of rebreaking and resetting bones are long gone." She looked at her patient with calm reassurance hoping she could see that as a healer she only had the woman's best interest in mind.

For her part, Dox had a host of anxieties swirling through her head at the moment as she processed the ship's new CMO's words. But she also realized she was projecting that anxiety towards the El-Aurian woman who had never been anything but nice to the Romulan pilot shove they had met. All in spite of Dox's cold standoffishness.

Dr. Tovanna Mah wasn't Dr. Asa Dael. Asa had moved on and Dox's best friend likely wasn't ever going to return to the Hera. And the possessive red-head needed to get over herself.

"I'm sorry Doctor... Tova. I'm... I'm not being fair to you. I... I have had a host of issues I've had to deal with concerning medical procedures. When I was very young .. too young to consciously remember... my Mother hid me from my Family on Romulus by altering my appearance and DNA to make me appear half Human. It was... Invasive. My ears were cropped and my blood damaged and turned an ugly brown for a time. Our last CMO... They discovered this and repaired the damage, but the memories of the alterations had... Hovered in my subconscious for years. Nightmares and the like. I've largely worked through that, but I suppose that it's... made me unduly nervous around doctors."

"Plus .." she admitted nervously, "Doctor Dael... They were my best friend. In some ways, my first real friend and I miss them. And I'm projecting that loss towards you. That's cruel and not fair, and I... I do apologize. I'm sorry. I will... I will try to be better and stop being unfair to you. You're trying to help and I need to be better. I'm sorry."

Tova looked at the vulnerable woman with a kind smile, "Let me first say how sorry I am that your friend is gone. It's very hard to lose someone you make a bond with. I hope you keep in contact with Dr. Dael no matter where they end up stationed. I have many friends I've kept contact with Sally some have been lost to battles or merely time, but while you still have them treasure your connection. Second, any optional procedures are just that, options. Should you decide to forego any of these treatments at this time that is your right. None of your conditions beyond those you sustained today are going to harm your day to day performance. We are looking at your future, not your present. I can't promise the efficacy of later treatments but for now, you have time to think this over which may be a better option." Tova closed her tricorder and pulled a stool over so they could continue more person to person, less doctor to patient.

"I'm new here and we've had one very intense time together which was completely out of my comfort zone quite honestly. It will take time for you and everyone else to become familiar with me. How about you make the larger treatment choices later and today we just get you patched up so the Captain can see you make a more difficult target to hit? If you do well I'll even give you a lollipop for it." She smiled at the woman before her with a twinkle in her eye as she slowly pulled a lollipop from her pocket and wiggled it in front of her playfully.

The red-headed Romulan couldn't help but smile. Tova, like Asa, seemed to be an eternal optimist and it was refreshing to see. Especially considering her own predilection for looking on the darkest possible sides of things. "Thank you. I do. I send them holo messages every few weeks and hope we will be in a position for a live transmission soon. It's easier to convince Starfleet to let the ship sit stationary if it's a call from my Grandmother in the Romulan Senate then me just wanting to tell a friend about my week."
Eyeing the lollipop, she rubbed the small cut on her chin from the Captain's blade that almost didn't miss her. "Uh... what flavor it that?"

Tova smiled, her eye almost glittering with playfulness, "I have strawberry, however I have 499 other flavors. A friend and I spent over twenty years perfecting 500 flavors of these during our off-time as a side project. He actually ended up with an award for it. I ended up with the replicator files for them." Tova shrugged playfully, "What are you going to do with tons of time on your hands and not much to do after a quarter of a century? So what's your flavor? I likely have it or you can combine flavors to make a custom one." She pulled out a second one and clacked them together as she waggled her eyebrows.

Raising an eyebrow quizzically, she was still sore and bruised, but that would pass. And she was now genuinely curious."500 flavors? Hmm... If you've got lehe'jhme fruit in there... you've just made a new friend."

As she mentioned the notoriously tart Romulan fruit that she loved, Dox's expression shifted from one of defense to a warmer smile as she took that first step in lowering her personal defenses.

Tova laughed and brought over the big jar, "Hmmm....let's see, Kali-fal, Osol Twist, Lemon Tart, Key Lime, what the heck is the Jumja Stick doing in there? That goes with the sweet flavors..." Tova set that one aside, "Ah Ha!" She pulled a purple striped lollipop out, "Word to the wise, don't mix this up with the sweet fruit container and the purple spotted one, that's grape." She looked quite proud of her discovery and handed it over. "The jars have labels, meat, herbs, candy, sour fruits, sweet fruits, bark flavors, and more. Experiment as you will, so friends?" She shrugged

Reaching to take the offered lollipop, Dox winced ever so slightly as her muscles protested the decision to move in such a fashion. But regardless, the young woman who was good at ignoring pain smiled through it sincerely, choosing no longer to judge Tovanna Mah for who she wasn't and instead for the person she was. And that was a person Mnhei'sahe wanted to know better. "Friends, Tova. Friends."

"Excellent, now let's get you looked at before the Captain uses you as a pincushion again." Tova smiled with mischief, "And once you get all better I think she may find you are a bit faster and more nimble than she will estimates. I wonder how she will deal with the surprise of her pincushion poking back?"

Mona and Gavarus had been doing a bit of work to the Khallianen, her wife's ship, to get it ready for the trip to Moradonia for the birth of their chicks in less than two months and today was the day that some of the finishing touches were being put on. As Mona clicked the last of the new holographic console panels into place, she checked the feeds with her tricorder to make sure power and data were ok, then sat down in the pilot seat and started the new bootup sequence for the primary and backup flight systems. The primary systems were holographic, like those on the bridge, but simplified and included the weapons systems when they were armed. The first backup reverted to the flat panel display. The second backup allowed the user to go completely powerless with wired controls to either side and under the console itself with levers and solenoids.

"Briaar!" the brightly plumed aviatrix called, turning to face the back of the J-type pirate ship. "Are you about done with the engine feeds to the new weapons?" Along with upgrading the controls, the engines, the shields... She had added a few Miradonian weapons and surprises to the small craft. She just hoped that the power grid could handle it all.

With her prodigious rear end sticking up out of the open access panel in the rear of the main cabin, the Tellarite engineer muttered for a moment before pulling herself up out of the hold with a grunt. With Mona now exceedingly pregnant, she needed a bit more help to get the ship above and beyond specs and Briaar volunteered to help her feathered section head. "Yeah, It's looking frickin' sweet, Chief. The mods are holding above Starfleet requirements by... 35%. The weapon yield will be, like, Thunderchicken tough."

Closing the hatch and wiping her hands on her pants, since she was off duty, the portly porcine was wearing a pair of old, stained khaki overalls and a novelty T-Shirt she got during there recent trip to Risa with a massive Picture of her partner, Fiona O'Dell, smiling away on it. "Are you going to a frickin' warzone to pop those kids out?"

"This time of year a lot of chicks are born and hunters tend to come by to try and... Well... You know..." Mona frowned a bit, an obviously foreign facial expression to her, as she wrapped her arms around her prodigious middle and tried to explain the threats to her homeworld. She too was off duty and even on duty she was limited in what she could wear so she had taken to wearing the same black and blue coveralls with her badge and vest-like section jacket with her rank almost all the time. Even her large apron did little to cover her. "Better to be safe than sorry is all I'm saying."

"Wait, HUNTERS?" Gavarus said with a shocked expression as she stepped over to the console, leaning past Mona to flip a few switches in the overhead to test the power connections. "There are hunters that are gonna be?! What the effin' F**K, chief?! Are you and the L-C gonna be flying there in this ship by yourselves? Even with this shield and weapons rig, will that be safe?"

"Possibly, but we will not be making the trip by ourselves, Miss Gavarus." Came the voice of Mona's wife and bond-mate, Lieutenant Commander Mnhei'sahe Dox, from the otherwise empty deck of the Hera's Flight Deck two as she stepped up the ramp into the small craft that was hers as a Baroness in the Artan fleet. Walking up behind her was Captain Telvan's adjunct and Dox's superior as a Baroness, the silver-haired Sarika.

"One way or another, we will have an escort ship. I'm going to ask Doctor t'Liun if the Golden Ghost will be available." Dox said as she ran a hand across the soft white paneling of he ships refurbished interior.

"Aye, and there'll be quite a few others running patrols of the area as well," added Sarika who was right behind her.

"My Minay," Mona said with a bright smile and outstretched arms. Due to the extra weight of the chicks being half Rihannsu, she was more exhausted than usual so spent most of her time sitting, thus expected her bond-mate to come to her for kisses

Not missing a beat, Dox gave Mona a broad smile and stepped over, got down on one knee and gave her very pregnant wife a fairly big hug and a very long kiss. While she did, the three chicks inside Mona began letting out their distinctive and rythmic thrumming that could be heard clearly in the cabin.

Gavarus, kneeling down slightly as she was too tall at two meters to stand up straight in the Khallianen, rolled her eyes comically and leaned over to Sarika. "Ya' gotta just give 'em a minute with that. Ya' get used to it."

"My cats are the same way," the cybernetic Baroness replied with a shit-eating grin. "I mean, they're holographic, but you know... Clingy and loving and all that. So... What surprises did you add to this old clunker? I saw that you left the camouflage alone." Sarika was referring to the decades of rust and neglect that had been carefully painted onto the outer hull panels to make the ship look a lot more defenseless than she really was.

"Yeah, we didn't do shit with the facade. The more she looks like a junker on the outside, the better, we figure. But the chief had us replace most of the propulsion and power systems. There are omnidirectional thrusters that use modified impulse emitter so she can do a 180° at near warp speeds. She's not as maneuverable as a Delta class, but just about. She's got three layers of adaptable shielding and a Miradonian weapons array you do NOT want to screw with." Gavarus replied, extremely proud of the work they'd been doing with the small craft.

"But NO Miradonian holocloak at all. 'Cuz that would... Uh... be bad or something." The ponderous pork chop leaned in and winked lightly with a grin.

"I assume because of that allegra treaty or something with the Klingons or something because Baroness Dox is also a Starfleet Officer. So glad the Artans don't have to stand on that bull." You could almost hear the servos in Sarika's skull straining to keep up with her as she rolled her eyes. "But hey, I've heard that some starfleet sensor jamming packages get around it so well you don't need a cloak. Invisible to the cybernetic eye, even."

"The treaty of Algeron. It redefined the rules of the Neutral Zone between the Federation and the Romulan Star Empire." Dox said as she leaned back from her embrace of Mona, her cheeks looking a more flush shade of green. "It comes with a caveat that the Federation won't develop or use cloaking technology. But Mona's holocloak development runs just outside the parameters."

"One of these days, I need to ask my Grandmother if my being her official and legal representative of the Imperial Senate is a loophole in that." Dox said, only half-joking as she got up to look at the modifications that her wife and Briaar had made to the interior.

It looked like an almost new ship with the former, narrow 'Captain's cabin' moved and doubled in size by replacing the former cargo hold in the rear of the ship. "So, this looks very different in here, Jhu Dhael. What have you two been up to in here?"

Using the Romulan phrase for 'Angel Bird', Dox turned to Mona.

"Well..." Mona turned slightly to show off the new control panels which were now colored in pinks and greens with touches of teal. "Everything can still be controlled the normal way like on a normal ship. Flat-panel touch controls, et cetera... But I added my new holographic controls so that you can fly, fire weapons, scan, balance power and shields... And if all of that fails, we can still use these manual levers and controls on the sides to control the flight mechanisms. On top of that, I added a replicator to the main panel. It's a bit limited to things like a medkit, forty different meals, sixteen drinks... But I figure that's good enough."

As she spoke, she cycled through a few of the capabilities, ending on a test of the replicator with two very generic mugs of hot Rihannsu dark cocoa. "It may not be the best flavor... And the dishware is edible... But it's sustainable," she added as she handed one of the mugs to her lover.

In a lot of ways, Mnhei'sahe Dox thought of herself as a poor example of a Romulan woman. Compassionate, anxiety-riddled and honest to a fault, she didn't fit the stereotypes at all. But when it came to her taste buds, she leaned heavily towards the notoriously tart and sour fare her people tended to favor. Taking a sip, the red-headed Romulan Flight chief nodded in approval. "It must be love if you're drinking a cup of this too."

Mona sipped at her mug as well, wrinkling her nose a bit as she grinned mischievously. "Really? Does it taste much different from Trill or Human cocoa? They're all nearly the same flavor to me."

"Awwww shit. The hormones have melted that brilliant brain of yours, Chief." Gavarus joked, lightly grabbing Mona's head and pressing it against her belly while patting her feathered boss on the shoulder in a mock display of faux 'grieving' that elicited a chuckle from Dox.

Then, looking back into the hold of the ship, Dox raised an eyebrow. "Uh... Briaar? Where's... where's my hoverbike? It used to be strapped down in the cargo hold back there but... There's no cargo hold anymore."

"Ahhh! Yeah, fear not, L-C!" The space swine said with a smile as she shuffled to the back and hit the small control pad on the wall as the door to the back chamber opened. "We remodeled the hold and put a bigger bedroom back there for you two. Your bike, which is kinda sweet actually, is in the Hera's cargo storage section in the back of the deck. Safe and sound. Promise."

"You can't fit a family on a bike. You have to upgrade to a shuttle," Sarika interjected with a chuckle. "And I wouldn't worry about her sense of taste. Last time I went out with a Miradonian was to a Bolian chili cook-off. Spicy or not, it all tasted the same to him. Almost burnt my tongue off on some blue beans with warnings all over it because the bastard said it was only a little warm."

"That is true... If you haven't noticed, I cook more by texture than by taste and I'm always asking you what you think of the food," Mona confirmed.

"Huh... Guess that works with you and your mom liking stuff that tastes more like a vindictive form of punishment, right L-C? The Iron stomach and the impervious taste buds teaming up for the win." Gavarus smirked as she closed the main bedroom door and stepped over to the starboard side bulkhead where the old shelf of a bedroom used to be and seemed to be replaced by three long, floor to ceiling panels. "Now... Check this shit out! This was my little idea."

Pressing a panel lightly, all three panels retracted into the overhead and three long, padded cradles unfolded from inside the wall and came out halfway into the center of the space. "These are adjustable and, while the kiddos are still little, there's actually enough space for them to slide back into the bulkhead for safety. And we built-in force fields and inertial dampeners into the crib spaces. You can fly this baby into a frickin' solar flare and the kids will sleep right through it."

"Hey, Chief. Like, I know the kids'll be half-Romulan, but what do Miradonian kids usually eat?" The portly porcine asked.

"Whatever they can get ahold of. Bugs, grass, grains, egg, milk..." The brightly plumed woman then stared up at the ceiling, a sudden thought coming to her. "Most babies don't eat just anything when they're born... They don't fly, they don't potty train themselves... Ugh... I forgot to plan for that and need to talk to the doctor."

"Uh, yeah. I think so, Chief. Yeesh." Gavarus scoffed in a slightly exaggerated fashion, eyes widening. "Not that I can talk. Our kidlette can dent durasteel with her little chompers when she's in a mood."

The cyber-pirate gasped in shock at that admission. "What the hell kind of space pig nonsense... Sorry but, what the heck?"

"Ha! Well, Tellarite kids will eat just about anything once our teeth come in, but our little girl, Minnie. She's adopted. She's a Minotaur." Gavarus said, practically beaming with pride as she clarified. "Like... Gonna grow up to probably be taller than me and all kinds of super strong and shit. But she's... She's the best."

"A what?" Sarika asked, tapping the side of her head, wondering if her UT was failing or just that she didn't know what Gavarus was talking about. "I'll look it up later or something. Do you hear something?"

Since Minnie had been brought up, the chicks had started excitedly singing to the point they could fairly easily be heard now, even still inside the womb.

Putting her hand on Mona's belly, Dox closed her eyes for a moment and smiled. While the chicks were clearly audible, through their telepathic and empathic bond with Mona and their soon-to-be born Daughters, the nascent mental abilities of the young Romulan woman could pick up on the thoughts and feelings of those children. For Mnhei'sahe, they were feelings. Colors. Impressions and images.

"It's the girls, Sarika. They're... singing." Dox said softly as the children continued, a sound that reverberated through the cabin lightly like crystal. "They heard Briaar talking about little Minerva. They are looking forward to meeting her. They like her already through Mona's times touching her in the daycare."

"R... Really?" Briaar said, smiling

"Mmhmm, really," Mona confirmed. "And Moira, though I think they prefer Minnie for some reason."

Sarika motioned with one hand in the air. "No helping what you like. You just have to roll with it."

"For some reason, my ample ass! Those kids clearly have impeccable frickin' taste. Ooh, hold on." Gavarus said as she started rifling through her toolbox for a second. "Here you go. Check it."

Producing a small clear disk, she held it flat in her hand and pressed a button on the side, and a small Holo display of the little Minotaur babe, Minerva Moo Mary Margret Mona Carrot appeared in all her fuzzy, brown, horned, bovine cuteness. "That's our Minnie Moo, Sarika. She's just... She's everything."

Briaar was clearly emotional thinking about the aggressively cute toddler.

Sarika's eyes went wide as she took in the holo. "Gods in heaven... That's... IT'S A HUMANOID COW! How did I not know these things existed until now? Where are they from? They're called Mini... Mino... What? They're sentient, right?"

"What? YEAH, she's sentient! N' she's smart as hell. She's not even a year old and she's starting t' talk and… OW! Briaar stood up to her full height, clearly indignant at what she perceived as a slight against her beloved daughter, and whacked her head on the top of the cabin.

Interjecting, Dox switched from 'Briaar' to 'Miss Gavarus' to make sure she was heard. "Miss Gavarus, I'm sure Sarika meant no offense. She's clearly never even heard of a Minotaur before and seems more fascinated than anything else."

Turning her attention to Sarika, Dox wanted to make sure the situation didn't get tense. "Minotaurs are beings from ancient Earth Mythology. As you observed, humanoid bovines of great physical strength that often served as guardians or warriors to the gods. We happen to have one such deity on Deck eight named Hera. Miss Gavarus and her partner, Miss O'Dell adopted Minnie after she was born and the birth-mother died in childbirth. And as you can tell, they are extremely defensive parents." The Romulan smiled softly, hoping that she was helping, though Gavarus still seemed upset.

Checking to see if she was dreaming or awake, Sarika slapped herself on the face, though the impact of her durasteel hand seemed to hurt and left a bit of an imprint. "OW! Ok, so you're saying this Hera bitch... Person... Lady... Isn't just some made up ghostly figure the Queen's ship is named after and is still alive after... What? A couple of thousands of years? Bullshit! Even those Asgardian people can't live that long, can they? They can't, can they?"

Looking between everyone else in the cabin and slowly coming to the realization that everyone else already knew, another thought came to Sarika. "Someone should probably tell Schwein her fiance is going to outlive her... By a lot."

"Possibly, but while Schwein was augmented before, she couldn't shoot lightning or punch through bulkheads like they were sserayl paper." Dox said with a light smile, referencing a particularly thin, reddish decorative paper from the sserayl trees of Romulus, similar to a thin rice paper. "Her own lifespan is likely enhanced by her... relationship to Thor and his aura. Starfleet classifies these beings as hyper-evolved alien life, but they are, for all intents and purposes, Gods. And we have two living on the Hera. And yes, they are thousands of years old."

The young Lieutenant Commander was glad she had taken the time to brush up on her religious studies, deciding that they were quite useful things to know considering her friendship with Death and, to a lesser degree, Hera.

For her part, Gavarus was still a little irritated looking, but was calming down as she realized that Sarika just didn't know what she was talking about and mean no harm. And as an engineer, she also noticed how hard that hand looked when it hit Sarika's cheek. "Uh... you okay there, lady? That... Looked like it hurt? You need to get a dampening field on those things. Or at least some bubble wrap gloves, or something."

"Yeah, they're a duranium alloy. I can dip my hands into lava and take readings with them if I have to." A slow grin spread across Sarika's face, stretching the handmark seemingly painfully. "I owe you an apology and I need something to soothe this injury so how about we raid my ship's stores and crack open a few bottles of brandy in that lounge? I've got some of the best and some of the... ah... most medicinal... stashed away so I'll let you pick."

"Ooh, thankfully I accept apologies in alcohol form. And I AM off duty! Lead the way, I'll call Fiona." Gavarus said as she allowed a smile out, following Sarika down the runway of the Khallianen as she leaned back in, "See you at work in the morning, Chief. L-C!"

"Don't drink so much you die~!" Mona called after them, slightly worried as she'd gotten a few glimpses of the night her mate and Sarika drank each other to the point of blindness through their bond.

After a moment, Dox's sensitive Romulan ears picked up the sound of them both leaving the flight deck, leaving the bonded couple alone in their private, and freshly remodeled, starcraft. Still sitting in the co-pilot's seat opposite Mona, Mnhei'sahe smiled and leaned back to look at everything. "Well, you said you were going to make her into something that's truly ours, and not just mine. And I would have to say, you succeeded. This is really nice, Mona."

"Well, I do have a special bond to my family to help me, after all." With a grin and a grunt, Mona finally got up out of the pilot's seat and pulled her lover towards the bedroom, slapping the ramp controls on the way. "However, you haven't seen the best part yet."

What had formerly been little more than a padded shelf along the starboard bulkhead in a space not much bigger than a closet was now where the ship's cargo hold used to be, and as Mona opened the door to the Captain's cabin, Mnhei'sahe smiled. The space wasn't huge. There were overhead bins for storage and luggage. There was a small shelf along the back wall reading lamps above the bed. And in the center of the space, was a padded, feathered nest. A little smaller and much cozier than what was in their quarters. But even with Mona as pregnant as she was, there was more than enough room for the both of them to lay next to each other.

But as Mona lead Mnhei'sahe into the small chamber, it was clear from the hungry look in her deep, amber eyes, that they wouldn't be laying next to each other tonight.

Captain's log, Stardate 72152.59. U.S.S. Turing. Marnia DeVonis commanding.

Arriving in what Intel Command has dubbed the 'Dedjoy' system for reasons unknown, we have been tasked with performing research and data gathering on an astral body located at the edge of the Trill system. To call it a planet is almost a stretch as it doesn't exactly follow all of the primary requirements for that classification, but it's hard to define exactly what it is that's on our viewscreen as we rest in a parking position relative to the… object.

To be a planet, there are three defining characteristics. It must orbit a star, which Object: X3357-665 does. It must have sufficient gravity of its own to have cleared its orbital path of obstruction, which it has. And it must have sufficient gravity to have condensed into a spherical shape.

That is where Object: X3357-665 is quite… unique. The object, while thousands of kilometers in length, is conical in shape. Lieutenant M'Raan at the helm has taken to calling it a giant 'funyun', though I haven't the foggiest clue what that means.

Nevertheless, in spite of the vagueness of our orders and the lack of any data on just where this object that wasn't on any star charts a year and a half ago came from, orders are orders, and the Turing is a science vessel. So we will figure out exactly what this mystery is.

The object appears to have a core of Neutronium, which resists scans. But even more curious is that even that information was only verifiable through surface scans. The surface of the object is teaming with vegetation and currently unidentifiable life readings. Has a Class L atmosphere and a variety of climates across its area. But the INTERIOR is impossible to scan. We can see visually that there's something inside the massive interior, but scans seem to be being… absorbed. Not even radio waves will bounce back.

Myself, Flight officer Ensign Shing, Exobotanist and Doctor Garcia, Geologist Ka’Tang, Science Chief S’aked, Exobiologist Flures, and a security detachment will be suiting up in EVA suits and heading to the interior of the object via shuttlecraft presently.

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

The mid-sized, Type-9a Shuttlecraft exited from the flight deck of the Oberth-Class Starship and began making its way towards the interior of the massive, cone-shaped planetoid. Leaning over the helm the Captain of the Starship Turing was fitted in her crimson-plated EVA armor, her helmet tucked under her arm as she stared in awe at the sight before her. “Where no one has gone before. Are we getting any readings back at all from this interior, people?”

Captain Marnia DeVonis was a middle-aged, slightly stocky looking Human woman with deep, caramel-colored skin and curly Auburn hair bundled up into a messy bun on her head. She turned towards the Vulcan Science Chief, clan in teal-plated EVA armor, sitting at the scanning station to the starboard side station of the helm.

“Nothing, Captain. Our sensor signals appear to be being absorbed by whatever is within the object in question.” The Vulcan officer replied in the typical flatness of her race.

“Approach vector set. We will be passing the rim of the orifice in 27 seconds at current velocity, Captain.” Came the officer at the helm.

“Thank you Miss S’aked. Mr. Shing, maintain course and speed and keep your eyes open. We’re flying on almost pure visual input.” The Captain replied as she went to the rear of the cockpit to address the assembled crew. “Intel Command has tasked us with figuring out exactly what this object is and what kind of life has been developing on it, so it is up to us to solve a mystery. And I know that solving mysteries are what you all do best, so let’s be our best and make command glad they assigned this project to us.”

There was a round of enthusiastic ‘Aye, Captain’ from the assembly as the shuttle passed inside the rim of the stellar mass and the light from the nearby star was cut off. “Cabin lights to a minimum and hit the floods, Mr. Shing. We need to see where we’re going.”

“Aye, Captain.” The young human man at the helm replied as the lights kicked on outside the shuttle. As they did, there was a series of light flashes from the surfaces that enveloped the shuttle. Blue reflections that seemed to move and the light bounced from their surfaces.

“Captain, sensors are giving us nothing back, however, visual cues indicate that something on the interior surface of this object is both aware of us and is… moving. Hard surface reflections are visible in the range of our floodlights.” The science officer calmly commented.

“Bring us down, Mr. Shing. Twenty meters from our ventral side. We’re in a cone, every direction is techically ‘down’, so we might as well pick a spot and go from there. Miss Flures, could you please contact Commander P’Ninge on the Turing and apprise them of our status?”

“Aye, Capt…” the brown-furred Caitian exobiologist at the rear of the shuttle replied before cutting herself off. “Captain… we have no signal. If the Turing is reading us, we have no way of determining as no signals are returning to us.”

“Whatever is absorbing our scan signals appears to be doing the same to our communication… communication signals, Captain.” The science officer added as, suddenly, the exterior lights began to flicker. There was a stutter in her voice as she knitted her brows, seemingly in pain for a moment. “My apologies, Captain. I appear to be experiencing a mild… headache.”

“Push through it, Miss S’aked. I need you sharp, here. Mr. Shing? What’s going on? Where are my lights?” The Captan called forward, a hint of nervousness in her voice.

“Power drain on all systems, Captain. Illumination, life support, propulsion. We’re getting red-lights across the board.” The young pilot turned, clearly beginning to feel the anxiety mounting. “We’re going to go down if the power cuts completely, Captain?”

“Confirmed, Captain. Power drain is coming from the surface. From whatever is absorbing our signals. As we get closer, it seems to be feeding off of.... GYAAAGH!!!” Lieutenant S’aked confirmed as the ship began to shudder. As she spoke, the usually stoic Vulcan let out a cry of pain. It was a sound Captain DeVonis was accustomed to hearing from her Science officer, and it sent a shudder down her spine for a moment.

Shaking for a moment, the tall, lean figure in the Teal EVA suit grabbed the sides of his head and fell back to the deck, moaning in pain. Turning with a jerk, Captain DeVonis shouted back. “S’AKED!!!”

The Vulcan writhing on the floor didn’t answer as DeVonis pointed to one of the officers in the rear. “Garcia! See to Lieutenant S’aked! Get her sedated and strapped in, NOW!”

“Do we have enough power to reverse course? Get us out of here?” The frantic Captain asked, leaning over the helmsman’s seatback.

“N...Negative.” He replied, beginning to sweat.

“Then set us down and lock down all non-essential systems. Lockdown your EVA suits, people. Helmets. The suits are well insulated and hopefully, their power systems will be protected from… whatever this draining effect is.” The Captain said, putting on her helmet.

The rest of the small crew followed suit as the skilled but anxious pilot attempted to land the shuttle with the only light available, that coming off of the warp nacelles. “Surface appears… uneven. I… I think those are… crystal formations. Impact in 7 seconds.”

Grabbing the back of the seat, Captain DeVonis shouted out, “Brace for impact, people!”

The shuttle shuddered and shook, and there was a crashing series of almost melodic tinkles as the crew was thrown about the cabin by the harsh impact. As the shuttlecraft slammed itself to a halt… the remaining lights flickered… then died.

After the 'party' that Loki had thrown for Schwein a few days ago, and the responsibilities of caring for a new child, Enalia felt beyond exhausted. In fact, now there was a ringing in her ears that seemed to be getting louder and...

Glancing up, she realized the ringing wasn't in her ears, it was an incoming transmission. Quickly composing herself as best she could, she tapped the call to answer it only to see Admiral Meowlith on the other end. She smiled briefly, but Farenia didn't return the grin - instead, her demeanor remained as grim as a Kohlinar master's. "Is something wrong, Admiral?"

"Deeply wrong, Enalia," the admiral replied without hesitation. "I've got another pretty bad mission for you. I assume you still remember Primordious and the state you left him in, what with all the genesis wave energy you used to... Convert him into a cornucopia shaped planet? The survey ship we sent hasn't reported in for weeks and we finally got word from their emergency beacon earlier today."

"I'm sending you the data, but..." Farenia leaned back in her chair and sighed heavily. "Yeah, we're not going to send another Oberth class out on this one, Enalia. I know it's canned dialog by now, but you're the only ones in Intel that can handle it. Figure it out, handle it, and report back. If we don't hear back from you two weeks after your arrival at the Dedjoy system, we'll mark the system as off-limits at the highest priority."

As Captain Telvan looked over the data as it came in, she nodded. "We've faced worse and come back to tell you all about it, so don't worry. We've got this."

"Wherever you get that confidence, I hope it never runs dry," replied the Admiral with a nod. "Meowlith out." With that, the channel was closed.

It was Enalia's turn to sigh heavily. "The Dedjoy system... Computer, relay this information to Commander Paris, Commander Sonak, to Yeoman Dedjoy, and to Lieutenant Gonadie. Relay the coordinates to the helm."

As the computer chirruped in compliance, Enalia stood and headed for the door, grabbing a PaDD on the way.

Out on the bridge, she started calling orders. "Change of plans, everyone. Helm, change course to the coordinates I just sent you. We're heading to the Dedjoy system. Our research team has been lost and we're going to investigate."

At the helm, Lieutenant Commander Mnhei'sahe Dox's stomach tightened just the slightest bit at the Captain's tone as she punched in the coordinates and replied, "Aye, Captain. Course laid in."

''Acknowledged, Captain, '' Sonak answered from the science station. ''I will input all the latest data we have on Dedjoy into the sensors computer banks. If there is any stellar or planetary discrepancy with what is there and what we should expect, sensors will alert us instantly.''

As his fingers started playing on his console he added:

''Recommendation for tactical; as we are heading to a potentially dangerous area, shields should be linked to sensors and allow automated activation in case of potential hazard... or threat.''

"Seen that work far too many times to disagree, Mr. Sonak. With the Captain's permission, linking shields and sensors now," Paris began initiating the procedure in anticipation of the captain's approval, which she received with a nod and a wave as Enalia worked on something else. This was a strategy she and he had used many times in the past, on Sonak's recommendation. Each time he brought it up, it tended to save their bacon at a crucial moment. The procedure itself had grown a bit more complicated, yet far more streamlined and efficient in the intervening century since Sonak had begun to employ it.

"Trouble in the Dedjoy system means Primordious, and the black crystals that Dedjoy discovered. Isn't she still studying those?" Paris prompted, mentally assembling the mission briefing.

"I think it's time we made that part of standard operating procedures," Enalia replied, motioning to Rita her approval as she settled into the command chair. "As for Ila's research, she's been sending me semi-regular reports on her research and she's discovered the possibility that they might have had an adverse reaction to the genesis wave energy. You should both have the data from the research vessel's emergency beacon. I'd say that's most likely what happened, but I'm not a scientist."

"I believe that's your cue to analyze and hypothesize, Mr. Sonak. I'll be darned, we're in the relative neighborhood, 8.4 light-years away. Helm, lay in a course- warp 9.4 should get us there in 32 hours, give or take. Unless you want to push her harder, Captain?"

"No, I think that's a good speed. Thank you." As she spoke, while Dox initiated the course change and the Hera warped off, Enalia punched up data on the system on her own consoles to refresh her memory on it. "Anyone know what a... 'funyun' is?"

''On Earth, it is a culinary dish made from an onion cut in rings and fried in vegetable oil with a corn covering,'' Sonak answered after a quick look at the computer readout. ''It appears the reference is meant to convey in a colloquial sense that the planet-sized artificial construct they encountered is hollowed and has several layers.''

"That sounds delicious and strangely fitting, though I think the health risks we'll be facing will be slightly higher than fried foods offer." Enalia offered a bit of a joke to help ease any tensions.

Dr. Mah called up to the bridge confused and concerned, "Captain, did I just receive notice we are heading to a planet shaped like fried food?"

"That we are, Doctor," the spotted captain replied with a grin. "One of our own creation, at that. I suspect we'll be dealing with unknown forms of life and energy from the mixing of primordial energies, a being similar to that of the doomsday device shaped like an ice cream cone Captain Kirk faced off against, and genesis wave technology. Therefore... Please prepare sickbay for literally anything."

From the helm, Dox had called up the mission report to read while the ship streaked to its destination. While she was only the Flight Chief, she always liked to be as informed as possible regarding everything she could and her eyebrow raised as she read the distress reports from the now missing Oberth class Starship, the U.S.S. Turing.

Turning slightly in her chair, the red-headed Romulan pilot raised a finger, almost like a child in school asking for permission to speak as she interjected, "Captain. I'm looking at the last transmission transcripts from the Turing. It appears like when they pulled in closer to Primordious to investigative the missing away team's shuttle, the last report filed and sent out indicated a sudden an inexplicable power loss. I would recommend... parking at a distance that the Turing was at before they pulled in closer until we have more information on whatever was causing that power drain."

''A most logical recommendation, Captain,'' Sonak confirmed. ''And since this pull is logically gravitic in nature, I will calculate the proper distance relative to our mass difference with the USS Turning. We might also consider using probes with tractor beams at a greater distance to act as anchors if this is insufficient, or if we fall prey to any additional tractoring attempt.''

"You know, that reminds me of an old smuggler trick we used when I was young," Enalia replied with her trademark lopsided grin as she turned to Sonak. "We'd cart off whole ships with shuttles by using a pair of modified tractors linked to the shuttle's warp field control. The first one would grab onto the ship we needed to tow, but the second one would leap out through the warp field towards a distant asteroid or moon or something so we could get more momentum. Do you think you can make that work?"

''Affirmative; I will study the details of the star system where this construct is and make the necessary stellar calculations for navigation to adjust, '' the Vulcan answered. ''A logical follow-up, Captain.''

Smiling with a bit of sly grin at the helm, this was a technique Mnhei'sahe knew well. "Absolutely, Captain. I've done so more than one both on the Forager and with shuttles. And with Commander Sonak's calculations, it should be by the numbers."

"The future is truly grand. Here's to advanced technology," Paris wisecracked as she tapped at one of her screens. "In the intervening time, presumably the Turing made earlier reports with long-range scans. While we're en route, why don't we have a look at what they DID learn, shall we?" Looking around, Paris admitted an unfortunate fact. "I'm going to come clean here and own something I don't know. Who's in charge of contacting Starfleet for the data and getting it transmitted? It used to be comms, but now it's, what, ops?"

''Current conventional starship protocols have Security run external communications, '' Sonak reminded her.

Enalia just grinned sheepishly. She'd had the duty shifted over to Operations for so long, she'd forgotten that it was originally a duty of Security. "Artan vessels, Ops takes care of coms so I shifted the duty ages ago. I know... Starfleet security protocol... 19-2... something..."

"Learn something new every day.... be damned, here's the comm panels," Paris muttered to herself, learning another aspect of her job that others had apparently been covering for her. "All right, I'm putting in the request for the data, and I'll call a meeting when I've received the reports and Science has had a chance to review the data."


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


As the Hera set into a very wide orbit around the remains of Primordious, which Starfleet has unimaginatively dubbed ‘Object X3357-665’, the senior staff assembled to put together their plans. After the requested data had been received and Science had a chance to review the scans, Yeoman Dedjoy actually looked a bit flustered as she entered the conference room reserved for the meeting.

"Captain... Everyone... The crystal samples we took before we left the... the Dedjoy system... They've been evolving in storage." Here, Ila paused, seemingly for dramatic effect. "They're exhibiting basic signs of crude intelligence."

“That makes a weird sort of sense,” Commander Paris postulated. “Given that the Genesis wave interacted with the raw materials- including Ms. Dedjoy here- the fact that crystalline life is growing shouldn’t be much of a surprise to anyone. Mister Sonak, what we know of crystal-based lifeforms? Perhaps these new life forms might be following some patterns with which we are already familiar?”

The chief science officer of the Hera brought up data on the holographic display to illustrate his words.

''Indeed we do; starting with the fact that carbon does form crystals and carbon is the basis of most of life as we know it. There are many theoretical possibilities of crystalline-based life forms, and several confirmed. The most well known are the silicon-based Horta of Janus VI and the inhabitants of Excalbia, the crystalline entity first recorded on Omicron Theta and the Tholians, these last having built a spacefaring civilization quite on parr with ours.''

He let the display run as he looked directly at the assembled officers.

''We may also include in this category artificial lifeforms like the nanite civilization accidentally created onboard the USS Enterprise D and the Exocomps which are also silicon-based. As for crystal development, it is a quite well-known chemical process and its propensity to build lattices and stable structures of conductive elements is naturally well-suited for the structuring of pre-organic compounds, the preliminary building blocks for life.''

He looked at his commanding officer and her Exec.

''Since the Genesis effect uses protomatter to alter the very subatomic level of inert matter, turning it into life-generating matter, it is logical to see these crystals generate a living structure, possibly even a sentient one, under this phenomena. The very stability of crystalline structures could possibly offset the inherent instability of the Genesis effect and effectively create sustainable life. And intelligence is an emergent property of life.''

"Exactly put, Commander," replied Yeoman Dedjoy, adding images of a normal crystal and one of her Genesis wave enhanced crystals to the displays that Sonak had put up. "If you add to that the inherent properties of the crystal lattices in question to absorb all incoming energies and disguise themselves as surrounding matter or even open space, I hypothesize that there could be living crystalline beings now living and evolving inside of the planet actively trying to consume foreign energy because that's what their structure is programmed to do at its very basic structure."

"Or it could be one giant entity rather than multiple smaller ones. We won't know until we arrive." Ila closed her large doll eyes for a moment to collect herself before proceeding. "Either way, we may be the only ship capable of scanning the crystalline matrices in question and even then I've had to recalibrate the lab scanners several times to keep up with the evolving crystal samples."

Sonak nodded and addressed his commanding officer again.

''Captain, we should consider the possibility that if such lifeform is indeed present, they might not be aware of us; not even that we too are alive and that what they do may cause harm. This is rather like the situation aboard the Enterprise D that I mentioned, except in reverse. I recommend efforts should be made to develop a way of communicating with such life.''

"At least we're not going in blind," Enalia declared with a worried look on her face. "You have until we tighten our orbit to do your best to come up with a method of communication. For now, we’re keeping a safe distance to allow for planning."

Looking over the available data that Commander Paris had procured regarding the U.S.S. Turing's mission, Dox's brows knitted as she thought. She was reluctant to speak in a meeting that was largely scientific in nature and well outside her area of expertise, but a thought occurred to her. "Pardon me, Yeoman Dedjoy. I was looking over the reports Starfleet received. The Turing sent an away team in a runabout to investigate the Primordius Planet with... 6 officers and 3 security personnel that vanished first. If they experienced the same power drain that the Turing reported when it got closer, then it's safe to assume that the runabout went down."

"You said you've been able to recalibrate the sensors to get readings off of our evolving crystals." Dox said, her confidence rising slightly as nobody had stopped her just yet. "With that data, is it possible to reconfigure our own shields to block whatever effect drained the Turing and... presumably... their Runabout? We will undoubtedly need to go in and search for survivors so this would also require shielding on one of our own Runabouts and, I would recommend, the Cyclones as well."

''Lieutenant Commander Dox has reasoned it out well, Captain, '' Sonak interjected. ''All crystals vibrate a specific resonance. So too do our shields. It is safe to assume that, whatever effect these crystalline entities or mechanisms use, it will be based upon resonance, as was observed thus far with all other crystal-based life forms we know of. In all logic, it amounts to finding the correct frequency with which to match our shields, so as to provide effective protection. The selfsame logic will apply to communicating with any crystalline intelligence. We do have the data from the Turing, and an emerging crystalline lifeform aboard to establish a computer simulation for testing and calibrating.''

Then, Dox turned to Commander Paris and Captain Telvan. "With the advanced sensor rigs on the Cyclone, Curiosity, I would propose that it would be prudent to go in with them first. They're smaller and much more adaptable, and it will determine if it's safe to bring in a runabout of our own."

"I've been able to mock up a few enhancements to the lab safety systems to keep the samples from siphoning too much energy," Ila replied. "I'll forward my data to Commander Sonak and the R&D department for assessment."

"Please do so. Excellent thinking, scouting with Curiosity first. Even with the drain, it should be fast enough to escape if something were to happen." Enalia mused silently for just a moment before continuing. "Still... We'll need an amazing pilot and scientist combo in it. I'd prefer them to be volunteers, because I'm not going to order just anyone on this mission."

Sonak faced her.

''I already volunteered when I joined Starfleet, Captain.''

"It's been a long time since the two of us went out on a mission together," Paris grinned at the stoic scientist. "If the Chief Science Officer is volunteered, far be it for the First Officer not to do the same."

"Good thinking, Miss Dox- we'll make the modifications to the Curiosity, then take her on precisely the sort of mission she was designed to handle," Paris offered with a proud smile. It was good to see the junior officer speaking her mind and contributing to plans on the bridge, as it reminded Rita of her own career, relatively only a few years before. "Unless you'd like to go, Miss Dox- it was your idea, after all, and you are the chief helmsman."

Shaking her head lightly, Dox already knew her answer as she had considered those options as she was making her last suggestion. "Thank you, Commander. But no. Ultimately, if I had to make that decision, Commander Sonak is the best-suited person to run the mission from a scientific position, and you're one of the ship's best pilots. Your sim rating on the Cyclones is high, but most importantly, this will be a team mission. Nobody can work with Commander Sonak, anticipate his needs and interpret his instructions better than you. So in the event that power is lost, you two don't need a comm system to communicate and solve problems."

Knitting her eyebrows ever so slightly, Dox nodded and pursed her lips as she finished, "It's dangerous, and my first instinct is to want to take that risk myself, but for the best odds of success, I believe you're the best pilot for this mission."

"Agreed," Enalia added. She too wanted to take the risks herself, but she also knew there were a lot of people in the room that would remind her of Starfleet protocol prohibiting her from doing so, thus didn't even consider it... This time. "Commander Dox and Yeoman Dedjoy will be on standby just in case, however, I have full faith in the two of you. Now that we have a plan, let's get busy making it a reality."

"Aye aye, Captain," Paris rose from her station to head for the lift. "I'll get started outfitting the Curiosity, while Mister Sonak works on finding the harmonic for this particular lattice."

"This mission sounds like it might just be a first contact..."

There was some internal debate as to whether to wear the flight suit or the standard EVA suit in order to undertake this mission. While there was some assurance that all should be well, and they shouldn’t need to leave the cockpit of the science vessel Curiosity, on the off chance that they did, Rita would prefer the standard EVA armor with which she had become familiar in the operation of rather than the specific flight suit recently innovated by Lieutenant Gonadie for use with the experimental spacecraft of the USS Hera.

The standard displays and reactions would likely be more than sufficient for this task, and if things did go other than ‘according to plan’, Rita wanted to be prepared for anything. So standard EVA was her choice. Right now she was on the flight deck early, checking over the small 2-man starcraft based loosely on the Romulan Scorpion design. In place of the overhead disruptor cannon located above the cockpit, the Curiosity boasted an enhanced sensor package which gave it superior scanning capability that nearly rivaled the Hera’s. However, the Curiosity could maneuver in spaces the Hera could not, and get close, detailed scans.

At least, when there wasn’t a few billion tons of neutronium interfering with the signals.

The titan Primordius had been assaulted with multiple Genesis devices, which had transformed the ‘Doomsday Machine’ into a conical planetoid fostering new life, in a planet shaped like a cone, with atmosphere and life on both the interior as well as the exterior of the planet. The Oberth class USS Turing had been assigned to study the planet as well as the system, until contact with the science vessel had been lost. Thus, the Hera had been dispatched to investigate; and now, that investigation fell to two experts in the field.

Commander Rita Paris was a veteran Starfleet officer, with nearly a decade of experience in the field… or 143 years, depending on how you looked at it. An able and experienced explorer, she was intimately familiar with the hazards of interplanetary exploration. Calm under pressure, adaptable and bold, the San Francisco native was an excellent pilot, and had been chosen to handle the Curiosity so that the other half of the expedition could concentrate on necessary fact-finding. While behind the times in many technical aspects of modern Starfleet, her pioneer spirit and willingness to work with others to accomplish goals tended to see her through most missions.

Lieutenant Commander Sonak was a Kolinahr, the pinnacle of logical thought. Purged of all emotion, his mind was a vast and organized storehouse filled with scientific fact and knowledge that was quite up to date. A brilliant researcher and gifted scientist, he would be analyzing the data from the mysterious planetoid It would fall to him to interpret the situation and seek to understand the unique nature of the planet they had simply named Primordius, in the system that had been created by the Genesis waves which had been named the Dedjoy system. Methodical, precise and brilliant, there were few in the galaxy who might be better suited for this mission than Sonak of Vulcan.

The fact that the two were a bonded pair, wed together on a spiritual, telepathic and emotional level was only a side consideration in regard to this mission. While it did give them an edge in communication as well as reactions, it could be considered a liability, as their emotional attachment could jeopardize the mission should it lead to one of them making a decision based on their commitment to one another. However, the duo had worked in tandem for years, across to different realities. Which had, in turn, led one to pursue the other in order to be reunited. Thus it was judged by the command of the Hera that the bond the two shared was more of an asset than a liability.

After all, few officers could boast the lengths these two had gone to in order to rescue one another over the course of their service together.

Today was the first time in a while that it would be just the two officers on a mission together. Back in their day it was usually themselves accompanying the Captain on the dangerous away missions. But in the modern Starfleet, it had been determined that captains should remain on the ship rather than risking themselves on away missions, and that responsibility had been designated to the First Officer, which was the position Paris now held.

Once the roles had been reversed; when the older, wiser and more mature Sonak had been the first officer, while Paris had accompanied him as the junior officer. However, while he had once been a captain, Sonak had no ego to bruise, thus Starfleet seeing fit to demote him after his transfer from another reality had not fazed him in the least. If anything, he celebrated Paris’ promotion, pleased to see her continue to advance and grow into the officer he knew she could be if given the opportunity.

Thus today found her on the flight deck, clad in the gold and black customized EVA armor of which she had grown rather fond. The helm was retracted, while the ‘visor’ sat on the bridge of her nose, streaming telemetry as she performed her preflight checks of the bright blue starcraft which bore on its stabilizers both the modern Starfleet ‘twin towers’ delta insignia, as well as the classic delta of their day with the two interconnected rings of the Science department. While it had been tested and taken out for exploratory missions in the past, Paris was pleased that the small and agile craft would be put to good use again on this mission.

Now all she needed was the scientist who could make sense of those sophisticated readings, but she was of the opinion that he was finishing suiting up in his own EVA suit, in preparation for the exploration of the L-class planet.

At the exact appointed time, as was always the case with him, Lieutenant Commander Sonak, Chief Science Officer of the Hera, stepped onto the fight deck, fully suited and equipped for the upcoming mission. He took a moment as he approached to examine the sensor pallets installed on the small craft until he came next to his mission commanding officer, which was also the exec of his ship, and his wife.

''Chief of Science Sonak, reporting for away team, Commander.''

By voice, eyes or attitude, you could never guess if they had spent a lifetime together or barely just met. Unless you paid close attention to the precise positioning and angle he took relative to her and without missing a step.

"Thank you, Mister Sonak. It looks like a good day for a little sightseeing in system, I'm thinking. As she spoke, the pretty pilot was uncoupling leads and sealing up hatches, personally overseeing her flight preparations.

"I've laid out a basic search pattern, and once we're on board you can make course recommendations based on the sensor data you need, or whatever we discover out here. Apparently the crystals are absorbing ambient energy sources, which we think we've got shielded for Curiosity, at least. The Neutronium content baffles the Hera's sensors, so what's our plan to do better when we're onsite?" The canopy opened as she came around to the starboard side of the craft, stepping up on the reinforced stabilizer to swing her leg over and into the forward pilot's seat. While the secondary station was filled with screens and monitors for the various sensor platforms, the piloting station come equipped with an actual piloting yoke, a throttle and foot pedal controls that made for a considerably more elegant piloting experience than a shuttlecraft.

''Logically, once we are inside the neutronium structure itself, it will no longer interfere with our instruments, '' the Vulcan stated while beginning a level 5 diagnostics on the sensor equipment. ''As for the energy problem, may I suggest an old fashion powerless approach? Using momentum only to and steer with minimal thruster output should help us conserve energy which will logically be needed much more for the way out.''

From a pack he had brought with him, he took out three small conical devices encased in an isolated carrying case.

''I also took the liberty of bringing these pattern enhancers and emergency beacon. If we are unable to pilot our way out, this will provide us with an alternative means of escape; only if circumstances demand it of course.''

He was careful about his wife's aversion to transporters and so worded his proposal accordingly. But at the same time, he was not going to neglect what may be their only way to get back if they lost shuttle capability; hence why he insisted on the notion of 'emergency scenario' only. Statistics were far more inclined towards anything else other a freak transporter accident if things went south during their mission. He was not going to take any chances.

Vulcans did not believe in luck.

"Well, let's hope it doesn't come to that, but good thinking Mr. Sonak," Paris admitted, appreciating the science chief's delicate approach to the common-sense reality that they might need to be beamed out. "Piloting by inertia and thrusters is a logical approach, I must admit, and that's piloting I have plenty of experience with. All right- we'll cut impulse power when we get close and see how out of trouble we can stay using the pressurized thrusters instead of the impulse drive, and we'll see if the shields protect us. Not that I have doubt in Dedjoy's ability so much as I have faith in the unknown to surprise us."

'' I am recording into the nav computer the sensor logs about the distance where the energy drain was felt by the previous approaches,'' Sonak said while his fingers drummed on the controls. ''You will be warned when we reach it, and also a warning signal calculated with correlation to our power output and mass in case these are altering factors.''

Buckling down in the cockpit, Paris secured herself to the pilot's seat, then jacked her EVA suit into the ship's controls This causes multiple holographic windows to open both within her armor, as well as within the cockpit of the starship as the two systems acquainted themselves, and she began running her internal preflight checklist. "Running on manual will help lessen our power output as well I suppose, and apparently the Yeoman shielded our suit power sources as well, in case we have to EVA. So an L-Class planet- vegetation, atmo and life, just not breathable atmosphere for humanoid life?"

''There are cases of some having oxygen-argon atmosphere capable of sustaining standard humanoid lifeforms,'' he specified. ''Class L worlds can have different kinds of atmospheres, ranging from suitable to unsuited without additional means; but typically they have higher concentrations of carbon dioxide than class M worlds. Our good doctor provided us we an ample supply of tri-ox compound if our suits happen to fail us. There are a dozen hyposprays neatly packed are in one of the side pouches of each of our suits.''


''As for lifeforms, they should be at a very early stage of evolution. Abundant chlorophyll-based or plankton-based life are indicative of a breathable atmosphere. While vegetation is common on L-class worlds, they are usually devoid of fauna; but not always. There are also cases of sentient lifeforms native to such worlds, but more often transplanted there. Class L planets are prime candidates for colonization and potential terraforming.''

He finished his diagnostics and turned to her.

''So at this stage, making any assumption could prove detrimental.''

“Fair enough, Mr. Sonak. That being the case, let’s stop with the supposition and get to the actual scientific exploration to get some answers, shall we?” Paris offered with a smile to the small screen on her canopy that displayed her rear passenger to her. “Hera flight control, this is Away Team 1 in the USS Curiosity, requesting launch vector for planetary scouting, over.”

“Curiosity, you are a go for flight path 3, good luck out there, Commander,” came the reply, to which Paris replied with a smirk. “Here’s hoping luck doesn’t come into play today, Mister Brodsky. Acknowledged flight vector three.”
With that, the impulse engines came to life with a soft hum and the small blue craft rose off the deck, pivoted precisely, then moved out on minimal power as it passed over the busy flight deck. Switching to internal comms, the buxom bombardier activated and sealed her helmet, then activated the environmental controls for the EVA suit.

“Let’s seal systems, Mr. Sonak. We’ll be clearing the flight deck and going to impulse in ten seconds,” the nubile navigator reported. Of course, Sonak knew the procedures and checklists, likely better than Rita herself. But the back and forth exchange of information was an old pattern for her that she would follow with anyone on a mission, and she found she was actually excited for this particular exploration. In truth, it had been a long time since they had ventured into the field as a team, and even if it was just a fly around scouting mission, she was glad to be here with the stoic scientist who had saved her life so very many times.

Not that it was just a one-way street, as she had saved him a time or two herself. But the Kolinahr was the very definition of reliable, and over the years it had given the human explorer a foundation from which to launch into her heroic efforts that sometimes overextended her, and required cool logic, instant decisions and split-second timing… all of which were the solemn scientist’s stock in trade.

''All systems nominal, sensors at maximum output; we are clear to proceed along expected parameters,'' the Vulcan dutifully reported, eyes on his instruments.

For his part, Sonak was all business. There was confidence that anything his logic could fail to understand, the instincts of his human wife, so many times proven correct, occasionally in defiance of logic, would fill in the gaps. As far as two officers on an away mission was concerned, there could not be a better, more complementary pair.

Their marriage was the already proven testbed for that theory. Many would see this mission as a cakewalk in comparison to their ongoing evolving relationship.

Once clear of the starship, the small craft burst to life, the impulse engines coming to power. Propelling the small craft forward, Paris casually tapped in the coordinates and measured the travel time. “It looks like we’ll be in position for the first orbit in seven minutes, which I’m planning to take at a range of 10,000 kilometers. Then I’m thinking we’ll move in on a steady closer orbit each time, as we take our readings and make determinations from there. Will that work for you, Sonak?”

''Affirmative.''

With this methodical approach, the Vulcan would be able to validate and correlate the sensor readings with each pass, reducing significantly the possibility or error. His wife might not be a scientist, but she was certainly intelligent and experienced enough to understand how to best pilot their craft for the main purpose of their mission.

If he had not been Kolinahr, he would have been proud of her. As it were, he was gratified by her care with their task.

The minutes passing through the system were spent in silence. While Rita didn’t exactly need to focus on piloting the small craft once it was on course, she could see all of the activity going on behind her. Thermal imaging, quantum resonances, projected orbital paths and gravitational soundings were but a few of hundreds of scans the scientist in the back seat was performing. While he was perfectly capable of making small talk or commenting on the incoming data, that wasn’t his preference, per se. Focusing on the task at hand would ensure better data results, and Rita didn’t need the reassurance. With the flight plan agreed upon and the scans underway, she relaxed until they approached the planet, then she banked into the projected orbit, marveling at how the holographic projections on the canopy predicted the route and scanned ahead for possible hazards.

“Is it me or is the gravity a little strong for a planetoid that size?” Paris asked. At the extreme orbital range with which they were beginning, the gravity should have been around 1/3 of the pull it would be on the surface. But if she was reading the instruments correctly, the gravity was either considerably high on the planet or extended out considerably further than traditional planetary logic would dictate.

''It's the neutronium shell,'' Sonak explained. ''This is the matter found within a neutron star, a stellar body collapsed nearly but not quite into infinite gravity, what is colloquially referred to as a black hole. A single teaspoon of neutronium has a mass of a hundred million tons. Consequently, the gravitic well is formidable. This is as predicted, and our travel path has been computed to take this into account.''

"Of course. Just a little tugging on the controls, wanted to make sure I was interpreting it correctly. Coming up on the pokey end now, demagnetizing the hull for cleaner mapping of the magnetosphere. What do you make of its orbit?" Paris asked, looking over the projected telemetry that was showing out an oddly fixed orbit, with the open end of the cone planet pointed toward the sun. "Wouldn't that kill life on the dark side by denying it light and heat, while cooking the facing end?"

Sonak didn’t need to look at his instruments to provide a preliminary answer.

''The shape of the construct is irrelevant to gravitational mechanics. Since it is not a naturally-occurring stellar body, it's orbit is obviously established and maintained artificially with the use of something akin to our thrusters or stabilizers, just like any artificial satellite. As for the effects of cosmic emissions, the neutronium outer casing is totally impervious to all forms of energy and any matter collision. Logically, this construct, therefore, must have energy collectors and a distribution grid to make everything life-sustaining inside, at least to the L Class level, including an artificial gravity.''

“So you’re saying that even though the Genesis wave rewrote the existing construct to cover it with life, at its heart the power systems and thrusters are still theoretically operable, and in operation sans any guiding sentience?” Paris sought to clarify. While small talk wasn’t useful, asking probing questions tended to help her understand the complex science they often encountered. “So basically, the superstructure is still sound, since the Neutronium clearly resisted the Genesis wave, so you hypothesize that the power systems and core infrastructure are still intact? Then what is it doing with the stored energy, I wonder?”

''Neutronium would be unaffected by the Genesis effect; nothing short of a black hole could,'' Sonak reminded her. ''And so would be the case with an automated system inside the neutronium structure; which this so-called Doomsday Machine was by definition. Obviously the sotred energy serves to keep the whole terraforming stable; otherwise it would have collapsed like the Mutara nebula did when the wave had been first deployed.''

The small speedy craft was already around the ‘pointy’ pole and making its way back around to the open ‘maw’ of the planetoid. While they might have accomplished the orbits sooner, Paris was keeping the speed to an average in order to give the sensors time to record, in addition to the arc of their orbit being so very wide to make a cautious approach to a potentially dangerous situation. While she had done some cursory reading of the Genesis affair of 2285, she was unfamiliar with most of the hard science, save that it used protomatter, which was notoriously unstable.

Apparently not so unstable when paired with neutronium.

“So what are these vibrational frequencies I’m seeing on the surface, Sonak? They seem to be mostly near the ‘maw’… but lots of overlapping patterns that seem to be approaching and moving away from harmony? I mean, they are barely registering at this range but it’s like… waves?” In recognizing the phenomenon existed, Paris was uncertain how to analyze the data as they approached the opposite ‘pole’ of the planetoid, the maw. “Is that a form of communication we’re seeing on a rather large scale d’you think?”

''It is too early to assign any specific function to those energy waves; but it is not implausible. All forms of communication are a coherent use of energy; spoken language is the coherent controlled use of sound waves, to cite but one mundane example.'' Taking her idea into account, he recalibrated some of the sensors to investigate. While it was a rather large intuitive leap with little logic to support it, Rita Paris' observations in such instances often were. Yet they had a surprising tendency to be correct, or at least in the neighborhood ofbeing correct, so he recalibrated some sensors to take her idea into account.

''However, to assume this is a form of communication is to assume a form of sentience present within this construct. So far, we have no evidence of this yet except the obvious artificial nature of the construct, which may be unrelated to this new observation. Mold on bread does not mean mold made the bread. This could be energy emissions as mindless as radio waves from a pulsar. We will need to make more refined scans and studies to validate your hypothesis.''

"I once read a theory that the radio waves from pulsars are the mating songs of the galaxies. Heck of a hard theory to prove, but a wonderfully romantic notion, I feel," Rita replied wistfully. "Your mold analogy was very instructive, by the way. Great parallel to draw, as it put the concept into perspective in an easily understandable frame of reference. Okay, we're coming up on the first orbit, dropping to 9000 kilometers and moving to trajectory B."

''Astrometric data updated to nav computer. Proceeding to multispectral analysis and chemical scans of interior of the stellar construct,'' Sonak stated for her benefit ,and the recorded flight log being transmitted realtime to the Hera.

The chief science officer of the Hera took several measurements and made mental calculations as they raced along and data poured in. Then, his right eyebrow rose slightly.

''Curious; I have confirmation of chlorophyl-based plant life inside and atop the structure; at least where it is exposed to sunlight. But as we move in closer to the aperture, the background radiation levels drop significantly, as if all ambient radiation is being absorbed, not just visible light. I have yet to find any previously recorded data of plant life acting in such a manner. I would hypothesize that there may be something else, other than just vegetation inside the 'cone'.''

Readjusting some of the sensor packages, he studied the stream of revised data pouring in and his eyebrow rose even further. he repeated his scans and reperformed his calculations before speaking up again.

''Commander; sensors seem to detect a repeating pattern in the vibrational frequency. it stops every time a scan is aimed directly at the possible source within the construct, then is replaced by a pattern of pulses that begin decreasing in frequency, one degree at a time.''

"So you're saying that we're seeing action/reaction from down there?" Paris asked, seeking clarification of what this would signify as she continued their slow yet methodical approach to the unique planetoid.

Making some adjustments to the delicate and sensitive instrumentation, the sombre scientist then nodded to himself before reporting.

''Confirmed, Commander; I aimed the sensors at the neutronium shell instead of directly at the potential source location and, since neutronium ignores all forms of energy, our scans caught a perfect reflection of it. I am triangulating the actual position of the source without aiming directly at it; this seems to nullify the decreasing pulse pattern and only leaves the repeating vibration detected earlier.''

Pausing, he considered before finishing his report. ''There are two possibilities; either this is an artificial automated system designed to react to any approaching object or signal; or this is an attempt at communication.''

"A defense system maybe? Possibly a warning?" Paris asked as the small craft shuddered, seemingly buffeted by energy waves. The comely commander struggled with the controls, righting the craft and keeping her on course, but noting the effects. "Okay, not sure what that was, but shields are down 19 percent, and the hull's ionized.... if it's communication it's not seeming very friendly. If this is it's way of seeking to make friends, we'd better figure out that language quick. Dedjoy's modified shields are holding, but I'm starting to see a mild power decrease across all systems. Analysis?"

''The detrimental effect is in direct correlation to our proximity to the construct, ' he answered. ''I recommend moving away to a safer distance to let our systems restore themselves and further analyze the data we have.''

"That works for me," Paris replied, adjusting course to take them out to a wider orbit and increase their distance from the planetoid. But even as she did so, warning lights began flashing. "Those power losses are slow but steady.." she began, before another wave struck and the craft shuddered again, significantly more pronounced this time.

To Be Continued...

"Power readings are dropping across the boards, and the shields are doing a very steady fade, currently at 57 percent and dropping" the pretty pilot reported as she flipped switches and her fingers flew across the touchpad controls. "Activating auxiliary power to put it into the thrusters to see if we can get away, because we are losing altitude. Curiosity to Hera, do you copy? We are losing power and altitude above Primordius, over."

There was a crackling and somewhat garbled reply from the Hera, which indicated to Paris they might or might not have received and understood their report. "Now I'm glad Mona gave all these systems redundancies. We're still losing power and the gravity appears to be sucking us in- any ideas, Mr. Sonak?

''Transferring a power pulse from the deflector will increase our shield output for a short time. As for moving away, the only powerless option we have would be atmospheric skimming. I'm now sending calculations of the trajectory angle and speed needed to bounce off the wave and farther back into space; but this will only work if there is no erratic change in the pattern. I suggest to implement it without delay.''

"In full agreement with you there, Commander," Paris replied, slipping into a very old pattern for the two of them. Sonak's trick of pulsing the deflector to bolster the shields was a tried and true one he had taught her years ago, so that was simple to reproduce in the smaller craft. But even as she modified their flight plan to coordinate with the telemetry the science officer was providing, another unexpected wave struck the vessel, and the lost navigator now found herself fighting with the control yoke.

"System power down to 42 percent, shields are at seventeen percent... our orbit is decaying despite the maneuver, Mister Sonak. Curiosity to Hera, mayday, mayday, we are losing power and our orbit is decaying, we are going down, Hera, do you copy?" There was no reply, so Paris made her choice in the moment, as she tended to do. "Sonak, we're going down. I'm going to readjust our course to minimize our flight time and bring us in, so hopefully I can use the last of the remaining power to cushion our landing."

Were Sonak any other officer, Rita Paris might have consulted with them to see if they objected. But her plan was simple logic, and years before, the Kolinahr had declared that she would plot their course, and he had entrusted her with his very life to do so. Nothing had changed in the intervening years, even as she swung the craft about and pointed it at the maw of the Doomsday Machine. Reaching out to him with her mind, her soul and her heart, she felt the mild headache he was experiencing even as she drew strength from his proximity.

''I am diverting power to the inertial dampeners to cushion our ... landing.''

It had been but for a moment; barely a breath between two words. But as they angled closer to the structure, a sudden searing pain flashed in his head, like being hit by a sudden freezing wave. It took him all of his Vulcan discipline to keep it down.

He could still feel it pounding against his nerves, changing in intensity and varying so much that he could not simply erect a mental barrier against it. Wondering about it's nature was the only thing preventing him from wondering how long he would be able to endure it.

''Inertial dampeners... at... one hundred forty-seven point fifty-three... percent,'' he reported, frowning at the trembling of his fingertips.

"Sonak...?" she asked as, hearing the hesitation and strain in her voice, she knew he was struggling with something. But as she reached out to him through their bond, she encountered his defenses- those with which she was familiar, but unaccustomed to encountering herself. It was not unknown to her- when the master of Gol was concerned that his physical or spiritual state was as such to be detrimental to her, to protect her, he would shut her out of his mind. Allowing only the barest hint of their connection to remain, so as not to sever that which could not be severed in this life. Thusly would he spare her that which, despite his teachings, her mind could not be prepared.

Firing the emergency beacon, it's chemically fueled rockets kicked in once it was launched and away, as they were unaffected by the power drain, and it insured that the Hera would figure out what had happened to the Curiosity if they didn't survive the next few minutes. Which Rita Paris was bound and determined to beat those odds.

The struggle of the Vulcan science officer was evident to her as Paris fired the maneuvering thrusters to alter their course, recalculating the entry telemetry she was going to attempt. The scanners were useless inside the core of the neutronium shell that formed the crust of the planetoid, so she would have to auger her in and try to find somewhere to put her down before she ran out of juice. Bringing the impulse engines up to speed, she closed the distance, edging up her insertion velocity. With a little luck, the odd internal gravity of the cone would enable them to perform interior orbits in the atmosphere to bleed off speed.

Or they'd hit the surface of the planet that was composed of the titan who, ironically, Rita had conceived the idea and given the order to murder by peppering it with Genesis torpedoes, turning them into this world which was now trying to kill them both. Along with anyone in the neighborhood with an energy signature, apparently.

With their trajectory plotted and the impulse engines up to speed, the gaping maw of the planetoid loomed above and below them as she attempted to insert them into the center of the gravitational anomaly that was the cone-shaped celestial body. One eye nervously watching the power gauges doing their slow yet inexorable decline, the pilot of the past yanked on the stick to port, and a she did so, saw a soft glow on the planet's surface, which then faded. Taking in the stars she could still make out about her, Paris aimed for the flash, diving the small craft into the other atmosphere of the planetoid as the scanners relaying incomplete and hazy data at best.

But now she had twofold problems- the ship was losing power on an exponential curve that was liable to leave then in a powerless crash landing on an unsurveyed alien world, and behind her, the science officer who could make sense of it all was somehow left staggered and reeling by the situation. Which likely meant that the planet itself was detrimental to him. But she'd run the numbers, and escape was a far less likely option than a crash landing, and she'd rather try her hand at an actual planned landing with power.

As the shields flickered, finding the frequency shifts of the energy waves with which they were being buffeted and matching them was beginning to prove too complex for the shielding phase protocols. While Sonak was still struggling to keep up, it was clear that whatever was affecting him was increasing as they approached the surface at a high rate of speed.

"Hold on Sonak.... I'll get us down, you just... hold on," Rita muttered as she fought with the control stick in the surprisingly turbulent upper atmosphere, rerouting and diverting power away from non-essential systems as the ride turned quite bumpy.

''Do not... mind me... Commander.''

Sonak made sure his mental shields would hold even if he lost consciousness; something he was calculating at a forty seven point fifty-three percent chance of occurring presently. The last thing needed now was for his mental debilitation spreading to his wife through their shared bond. She was not Vulcan so normally this was not an issue; but whit his former formidable telepathic ability now slowly reawakening, this was no more a certainty.

If they were even to survive, Rita had to be free of any and all distractions.

Sight blurring and fingers trembling, he managed to send what hazy and scattered sensor telemetry to her nav computer on a continuous signal; this way she would think he was still fully with her and helping her negotiate their forced landing. they could sort things out later but only if there was a later.

And that was now wholly upon her unfettered shoulders.



It was a damn good thing Mona Gonadie had kept the maneuvering stabilizers.

On a starcraft, stabilizers looked like an excess, a stylish flair. But when designing the Cyclone starcraft, Mona Gonadie had made them watertight to 50 meters, space capable, and most importantly of all, aerodynamic. because the Cyclones were designed to be flown under literally any conditions. Dox had conceived of the idea, after all, as a getaway vehicle that could be beamed in when Rita needed to be beamed out. Which often meant inside an atmosphere. Thus the jagged triangular arrowhead shape was made for maneuvering inside an atmosphere.

The problem was that the internal gravity inside the hyperdense cone in space was surprisingly aggressive, and it was taking a lot to bleed off sufficient momentum to bring them down safely. Currently Rita was in her second orbit inside the cone, and their velocity was increasing, which was distressing to her as she was putting the impulse engines in reverse, but it was only slowing them down gradually- she couldn't hit full reverse, because at about 2300 RPMs the hull started cavitating in that 'don't press your luck with the 2 man starship' sort of way, and she knew she had to move on to plan B.

The positive was that while the sensors didn't work, her eyes did, and Rita was scanning visually at least with her suit's recorders. Lush, giant mountaintops that were covered with a frenzy of blues, greens and reds of hearty alien vegetation flourished amongst jagged ebony crystalline structures that dotted the landscape. Lakes and oceans of clear yellowish fluid sloughed below her, and while the sensors couldn't get her a reading from here, it wasn't an ammonia atmosphere, so Rita crossed her fingers for that ocean not being composed of acid.

"Power's down to 10 percent, Mister Sonak... looks like it's do or die time," Rita muttered. Deciding to head in to the small inland sea she'd scouted on the last orbit, the plan was to bleed off their momentum skipping across the body of fluid to slow them down for a proper landing. Which was her plan when they hit a crystal outcropping at 9 kilometers above sea level, that she would have sworn was most definitely not there a moment ago.

All of which was now irrelevant, as their momentum had certainly been arrested, but they were now hurtling out of control toward the planet below.

"Nononononono!" Rita Paris fought with the stick, the telemetry from the rear appearing onscreen for a few seconds, long enough to assess her of their situation. "Bless you Sonak!"

Firing the thrusters to pull them out of the spin, Rita was still fighting with them as the inland sea she had been aiming for came up, which did definitely help arrest their momentum, as the sea turned out to be composed of resin. Still very fluid that this level, but quite sticky, it began to cling to the bright blue craft as it skipped across the surface, creating sonic booms as it did so. Inside the cockpit, Paris hit the injectors on her anti-nausea as she fought to gain control of the beleaguered small craft, to no avail. Fortunately, her course and heading had been true, and when the beach of the rocky crystalline shore came into view, they were nearly down to a safe velocity.

Which was fortunate, because that was when the holo systems began going dark as the shields ran out of power. Then the redundant internally powered systems that Gonadie had installed in the small craft as a backup to such an emergency winked out, one by one. As the little ship hopped and skipped across the waves, the eye of the navigator watched, timing, timing, timing, before she hit the BFI foam button.

In the design of a good starship, there are redundancy systems. As the Cyclones were designed to go out and get into trouble, one safety addition Rita Paris had requested was the addition of BFI foam- a crystalline micro honeycombed structure that would flood the cockpit, filling it completely and immobilizing the inhabitants for impact. Then in 10 seconds time, the cellular structure would break down and evaporate into it's native gasses.

Thus the two astronauts, wearing protective armor, seat belts, a craft designed to survive and a safety feature... survived a rather high-speed crash landing from orbit.

As the foam dispersed, Rita looked through the cockpit to assess their situation, only to be confronted by a jagged black crystal that had penetrated the cockpit, stopping only two dozen centimeters from her face. Blanching a bit at the realization that might have killed her, Rita wagged a finger at the crystal. "Not today, buddy."

Which was when the crystal moved, elongating to cover a quarter of the distance between them.

"Oh no you don't!" Rita took in the situation at a glance- they had made it to the beach of the inland sea, which looked to be maybe a dozen kliks or so from that beacon she had spotted, which if she had counted correctly was going off once every 17 seconds. Flipping open the ejector casing, Rita hit the canopy eject. Power or not, explosive bolts still worked just fine, and Rita Paris grinned a bit. Inertial dampeners and forcefields were fine, but as redundancies went, sometimes old school really paid off.

Unbuckling herself from her flight harness, the cool-headed commander stood in her seat to check her fellow officer, only to realize that he was out cold. Which was impressive to her on a number of levels. Sonak could lose an arm and still stay calm, cool and collected. Probably slow his bleeding- hell, he might be able to reattach it if you got it back to him. He didn't really sleep much, even, he just meditated. Which left him more mentally recharged than most on a good night's sleep. So for him to be unconscious was not only distressing, but puzzling and impressive somehow.

"First things first, let's get you out of this ship..." the armored explorer looked around, only to realize that the crystalline protrusion on the beach which had halted them once and for all was growing onto the hull of the Curiosity. At a rather urgent rate.

"Right, getting you out of here... c'mon Sonak, time to go..." One foot between his legs and one on the floorboard, she unsnapped him from his safety harness, and hunkered over to get him onto her shoulder. With a grunt she rose, Sonak in a fireman's carry over her shoulder as she stepped out of the small starcraft. Taking a few steps away, she paused and peered back into the open cockpit as the crystals began overrunning the control panel, and Rita watched as the various systems flared to life. The crystalline forms became more orderly and rigid in their shapes in order to interface with the systems, but it appeared that they were interacting, and powering them up.

"Fascinating, but maybe I should see about waking you up first," the golden armored astronaut decided, taking a few steps up the beach until the reached the shore, which seemed to be devoid of crystals nearby. Instead, glowing blue fungi radiated a soft underlighting. Easing the blue-suited explorer to the ground, Rita extended a datajack and plugged her suit into his. Already set to low power mode, it was still monitoring his vitals, which showed his blood pressure to be alarmingly low. Frowning, the fingertips of the golden ceramic plates stroked the faceplate of the sombre scientist's space suit.

"Sonak? Can you hear me? We're on the planet's surface and I think there's a beacon nearby." Looking over at the Curiosity, which was now more than halfway covered by black crystalline protrusions which continued to grow and consume the small starship. "The crystals appear to be eating the Curiosity- at least covering it. But they were powering up the systems- I think they might be learning from it, too."

"Sonak? I need you, Commander. We're crash landed on an alien world and our suits are... going to need to be on solar recharge, because the sun always shines in here, and it will help offset the power drain," she muttered, making the change in her own suit and his as well. When he still had not stirred, she checked their perimeter, then leaned in to reach for him through their bond.

A wall; impenetrable, immovable, dry and dusty as Vulcan itself barred her path, made of stones too large for her to move confronted her, and while she could still feel their connection, it was as if they were simply too distant to perceive one another, despite their actual proximity. He had distanced himself- ideally, she knew, to protect her. But she wouldn't have it.

Pounding on the implacable stones, she shouted. "Sonak! Let me in, I can help!"

I am here.

In the landscape of the mind, she could not see him. His voice sounded as if he were on the other side of the stone wall, slightly muffled, yet still very clear.

My mind is currently under attack. There is a powerful psychic energy output here that is assaulting my perceptions and thoughts; it is comparable to the Talosian mind effect we experienced back in the days of the Exeter. But my mental powers are not as powerful here as they were, back then and there. My defenses are much less adequate. And it is so invasive that, if I open our bond, it will overwhelm you through me. I will not permit this.

There was the moment of rebellion, of course, because the thought that she couldn’t help was an anathema to her. But at the same time, Sonak knew his limits well. If he had decided this would overwhelm him, then that was the case. The joy of logic was, after all, that it could not be argued with. Facts were simply facts, unless based upon erroneous data. When it came to Sonak and knowing his limits and what was and was not possible for him, this was never a consideration. If he thought it would overwhelm her, that was a fact; he knew her mind as well as his own. Any defenses he had erected in her mind for such contingencies would be insufficient, and they would both be out cold were he not protecting her.

All of this she knew and understood, but it was still hard to accept. They faced everything together, after all- it was in truth one of their greatest strengths as an investigation team, and as a couple. But in this case, she understood. He was bearing this and protecting her from the psychic pressure that was genuinely unbearable to him, so that she would be able to act in the physical world, and continue their mission. Thus the emotional executive took his hand on both of hers, and held it tightly.

“Save your strength, t’hy’la”, she whispered. “I’ll get us out of this… somehow. You just hang on for now, okay?” Turning about, she sat him up, then draped his arm over her shoulder, then the other, before grasping his legs and placing him in a ‘piggyback’ position to carry the stricken Kolinahr without injuring him. Rising carefully, she was grateful that all the working out she had done on Kathool had not all faded as yet. Her core was still strong, and she would be able to carry her logical mate across the landscape.

“Just don’t be surprised if I talk through all of this, okay? I know you need to conserve your strength, but I need to stay sane and focused, and you know me, chatterbox to the end.” While she was worried about Sonak, she shoved that aside. She had to trust the Vulcan master of his own mind to protect himself for now. Instead, she had to focus on getting to that signal beacon she’d seen, which she judged to be perhaps a dozen kilometers to the southeast. For which she would have to rely upon her own navigation, as the sensors, here on the surface of the planet inside the neutronium ring, were completely useless.

His thoughts came to her, still oddly distant yet perfectly clear.

You have all the knowledge, the skills and the tools to see us both through this. I will now initiate a healing trance. This will insulate me and you completely from the psionic assault. But it will leave me totally powerless... until you wake me up. You know what to do then.

I do. Sleep, my love, and I will awaken you when we are safe or the need is dire. Be well... I won't fail you.

And so, his pulse slowed to a faint crawl, his breathing became barely perceptible and his body heat dropped significantly. It was now as if she were carrying a dead body.

But still, she could feel their mating bond, as strong as ever.

Shuffling the load, she locked the elbow joints of her armor so her arms would not have to bear the strain. Taking a few long leg stretches, she looked about for a hillside she could climb to assess the landscape and plot her course. Setting off at a jog, she had it climbed in only two minutes, and the vast canopy of a neon blue, green and scarlet jungle canopy was arrayed before her. In the distance, as she watched, a dim glow pulsed to life, which gave her hope.

Sidestepping down the hill, the extradimensional explorer from Earth, carrying her unconscious superman, began jogging into the neon alien jungle.

The underbrush of the alien landscape was thick. Far thicker than should have been possible, considering how young the environment was, even with the Genesis effect, it seemed. But as Rita moved as quickly as she could, she did her best to take a mental note of everything she saw.

An explorer to the core, she noticed that most of the plant life from the low-lying brush at the base to the trees themselves seemed to possess some degree of bioluminescence, not unlike cave-based algae or undersea life on earth. But with the planetoid's open maw constantly facing the nearest star, that seemed strange. Of the two of them, Sonak may have been the scientist, but Rita Paris was no slouch, and she knew her way around the scientific method. The black crystals here were the x-factor. They devoured the Curiosity, seeming to integrate with its powered systems before her eyes as they grew across the surface. It was one of many questions she put her mind to work on as she moved towards the direction of the pulsing light she had spotted. The light she fervently hoped was a beacon.

As she and Sonak had survived their crash, it was entirely possible that the crew of the Turing's shuttlecraft did as well, and they too were Starfleet officers. So there was hope, and where there was hope, Rita Paris would always pursue it. Thus she pressed on, periodically checking her HUD display to keep an eye on Sonak's vitals, she was relieved to see that while they were low almost to the point of death, they had stabilized, meaning his healing trance was effective.

No surprise there. Sonak, in her experience, seldom if ever made mistakes, save occasionally in dealing with his alien and emotional wife... but never when it came to science or matters of factual evidence.

The trees were interconnected, she noticed. The root systems seemed to twist and twine together with that same blue glow that emitted from the fungi she had taken note of earlier, that seemed to thrum slightly as she passed by them. It almost felt as if she was seeing some form of communication from tree to tree. With each footfall, there was a phosphorescent shimmer in her wake along the floor of the exotic landscape. Colorful pollens and particles swirled behind as she disturbed the undergrowth. But the one thing she could confirm from her exploration thus far, was the lack of any form of animal or insect life. But the bizarre gravimetric fields may have compensated for the lack of animals to distribute pollen as on Earth.

The sensor readings from her HUD were virtually nonexistent, but they COULD chart the data of forces that affected her directly, and gravity was one such force. And that force seemed to waver in intensity as she moved. It increased in some places and decreased in others. That, combined with the thin, unbreathable atmosphere created a sort of network of airborne rivers that carried the pollen and debris she kicked up throughout different parts of the forest. It was all remarkably fascinating, and she knew that Sonak would likely be quite excited by the data she was collecting once they returned to the Hera.

Well, as excited as the emotionless Kolinahr ever became.

Shifting the load a bit and tightening her grip on her unconscious love, Rita came into a clearing. The Beacon lie ahead, at the top of a ridge that was closer than ever and she was determined to reach it. It was either survivors, or it was where she would wait for rescue. Because if SHE saw it and assumed it was a beacon, so too would the next rescue team from the Hera. So she ignored her fatigue, ignored her anxiety over her husband’s health and the potential hopelessness of the situation, and jogged down into the clearing. There was a light in the distance, and that light was hope.

As per usual, where there was hope, Rita Paris was running toward. Even as behind her was danger loomed... as per usual.

To Be Continued...

Return to the Dedjoy System:

After Admiral Meowlith received word that an Oberth class science vessel performing a scientific study in the Dedjoy system on the Primordius planet has vanished. Thus the Hera is dispatched to investigate, as the planet is still considered classified.

The missing ship is the U.S.S. Turing. Captain Marnia DeVonis, human, leads an away team to investigate Primordious, classified as Object: X3357-665. The away team in a shuttle consists of Flight officer Ensign Shing, Exobotanist Garcia, Geologist Ka’Tang, Science Chief S’aked, Exobiologist Flures, and a security detachment of three officers.

Returning to the remains of the GodMachine, Primordious, now an enormous cone shaped planet with uncategorized forms of primordial life and a Class L atmosphere, the Hera sends crews in the Cyclones to investigate the surface as scans are being absorbed and not returning data. Scans are being absorbed and converted to energy by the living crystals. Plus the core of the planet was formed from neutronium.

-----------------
Memory Alpha: Neutronium is a rare, dense mineral, found naturally in the cores of neutron stars. It was impossible to scan inside neutronium. Despite many readings and theories, the Federation was never able to produce neutronium artificially.

That means that you can scan outside, but inside the cone the scanners are useless. Assuming that while Primordius himself was transformed, that core of neutronium is still there, and someday might just become a star. Shit, that's what we should have done the first time, have Primordius become a star and it would become a binary system. Missed opportunity there.
-----------------

The Oberth class ship is disabled and powerless in a decaying orbit. The crew is still alive, but only on emergency life support and the crew is largely locked up as the crewmembers with psionic sensitivity are affected by the signals from the crystals. The Hera's shielding will protect our crew from the worst of this, but characters like Sonak and to a lesser degree, Dox and Mona, will be aware of it.

The black crystals are still filled with protomatter 'Genesis' energy and are still evolving.

The Cyclones find the remaining survivors on the surface, running and fighting various creatures.
Perhaps dispatch the Thunderchicken, the Banshee AND the new WarChicken to save the science expedition.

Since Dedjoy has black crystals in her, perhaps the excess Genesis energy begins to get pulled into her and some of her crystals start evolving and infect the ships systems and the R&D department and the mechs are infected?

The evolving crystals are good, and they are still growing, trying to achieve something because they don't understand the universe- they are essentially an infant life form thrust through evolution by the genesis waves. Since dedjoy is a part of them, how about if the core of the episode is that Dedjoy needs to learn to communicate with them, to help them begin to achieve what they want, rather than just blindly probing out the universe. Or something like that. I like the perils along the way, just proposing this as a solution in the last 10 minutes.

Through communication, Dedjoy directs them and gives the crystal beings purpose and they draw back the remaining Genesis energy, clearing the ships of infection. Maybe they start overgrowing the neutronium shell and this particular world will become a literal space geode?

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

MISSIONS:

From the Hera, Captain Telvan dispatches separate teams to investigate the mystery...

The Away Mission into Primordious-
Rita and Sonak take the Cyclone, 'Curiosity' to explore the interior of the conically shaped planet to uncover what happened to the missing shuttle, it's expedition team and Captain Marnia DeVonis of the USS Turing. Shields will fail to force an emergency landing and a little chaos on the surface of the interior of Primordious.


The Away Mission to the USS Turing-
The Runabout THOR, having been outfitted with Dedjoy's enhanced shields, will be sent to the other side of Primordious, where the Turing will be found with enhanced sensors, to be adrift and on minimal life support. Power is continuing to be drained, meaning the rescue team is on the clock to get there and save the Turing before the magnetic shielding that contains the engine's Anti-Matter is drained causing an explosion.

Shuttle Pilot Ensign Waeiex, Mission Commander Thex, Doctor Mah, Biologist Malana and a security detachment, (Perhaps V'Nus and S'Rina) dock on the Turing, discover the crew mostly passed out from low oxygen. Thex has to restore the ship's power and institute Dedjoy's shield mods on the Turing to save it while Doctor Mah helps the injured.


Understanding the Crystals-
Yeoman Dedjoy and Jaeih are sent into the POD to try and uncover the mystery of the strange signals Primordious seems to be sending out that are draining energy from ambient space, while the Hera and her ships are protected by Dedjoy's enhanced shielding.

In the main flight deck of the U.S.S. Hera, Lieutenant Commander Mnhei'sahe Dox was pacing a bit anxiously. Commander Rita Paris and Lieutenant Commander Sonak had just departed in the Cyclone Curiosity to examine the actual structure of the cone-shaped planetoid know as Primordious, and the Captain had ordered a second away team to take a Runabout to the Starship that they were there to investigate the disappearance of in the first place, the U.S.S. Turing.

The Oberth-Class research ship sent out an emergency beacon just before vanishing from sensors a few days ago, but thanks to the modifications that Yeoman Ila Dedjoy had developed that enabled the Hera's sensors to cut, at least partially, through the unusual phenomenon of energy absorption that was occurring in the region where all ambient radiation seemed to be pulled into the maw of the former star eating Titan, the Hera had found the USS Turing.

The Starship was adrift and seemed to only have partial life support at best, listlessly floating in a very wide, decaying orbit around Primordious. When the Hera had approached the system, the Turing had been in the apogee of its orbit on the far side of Primordious, and therefore blocked from the ship's sensors. But now, the crew had found Starfleet's missing vessel, and the Captain had given orders to investigate, determine what had happened, rescue any survivors, and repair the ship if possible. 

The Runabout THOR was the most robustly armored small craft in the Hera's fleet of support ships, and Lieutenant Commander Dox was currently running her through a systems check while Engineering assistant Ensign Briaar Gavarus was tucked under the main console with a tool kit. After a few moments, the portly Porcine crawled out and grunted as she stood back up, which was no small task for the two-meter tall, 190-kilogram Tellarite. As she did, the slightly anxious Romulan Flight chief spoke. "How are we looking, Miss Gavarus?"

"I installed the hardware from Yeoman Dedjoy, for the sensor enhancements and the shield frequency boosters. Everything is reading as green, so the Thor here should have the same boosted shields and sensors so that she can fly through that energy drain effect no problem." As the two women were still alone on the support craft, the temperamental Tellarite cricked her head as she watched Dox run another full system check. The two women weren't exactly close, but they respected each other, even if Briaar was still slightly afraid of Dox's physical combat skills. But she was also picking up on her superior officer's nerves. "So... uh... sorry, but... are you okay L-C? You seem... tenser than usual?"

Distracted for a second, Dox got up and paced slightly in the flight deck of the Runabout. "Huh? Oh, yes. I'm fine, Miss Gavarus. I'm just... a little anxious about having to stay on the Hera while this mission is happening. Plus, I have a bit of a background headache. But thank you for asking. I'm fine, but if I'm projecting enough for you to say something, I guess I need to relax a little."

"C'mon. There's nothing else us re-working the systems are going to do except create a problem that doesn't exist. I'm just being anal-retentive. Let's let the away team do their jobs," Dox said as she lead Gavarus off of the Runabout just as the actual away team was arriving on deck.

"Nervous because Commander Paris always does her own flight checks and she wouldn't let you look over the Curiosity?" Gavarus raised an eyebrow and leaned over to Dox conspiratorily.

"I have no idea what you're talking about, Ensign. None, whatsoever." Dox replied with the slightest hit of a grin cracking her otherwise serious Romulan facade. Of course, that was just a part of what had ramped up Dox's anxiety. Another aspect was her nerves being on edge being stuck on the Hera as two away missions were heading into danger.

Walking up to the Thor, was the away team, decked out in re-fit EVA suits that had also been modified by Yeoman Dedjoy to resist the energy-draining effect that had been detected in the system. At the head was the Hera's Andorian Second Officer and Chief Engineer, Lieutenant Commander Thex sh'Zoarhi, who would be in command of the mission to repair the Turing, to try and get it's engines back online and modify her shields to resist the energy drain. Behind her was the literal mountain of a woman, the Ashravenan biologist, Ahreva Malana. On Malana's left was the Edosian pilot, the orange-carapaced Ensign Wieaex, who would be flying the Thor.  In the middle, was the Hera's new Chief Medical Officer, Doctor Tovanna Mah. Bringing up the rear were the Klingon security sisters, Petty Officers V'Nus and S'Rina Wil'I'Ams, charged with protecting the away team. 

Handing a PaDD to Thex, Dox offered her superior officer a light nod. "The Thor is prepped and ready, Commander. All modifications installed and reading green on the checklist. She's all yours. We will be in constant communication, assuming the system and the modifications we've made allow for it."

"Glohhaasi' mnekha, Commander sh'Zoarhi." Dox said as she and Gavarus went to leave. It was an old Romulan phrase that meant 'good hunting', as 'good luck' wasn't a concept in that particular culture. As she stepped back to defer to Thex, she winced ever so slightly again. "Sorry. Just a headache. Have a safe trip."

Dr. Mah noted the comment about a headache and flipped open her PaDD to follow up on it when they returned from their mission. From the point the mission was assigned until it was over she always took notes after 60 years of dealing with reading one too many reports where things had gone wrong and simple clues were key to a patient's survival.

"I'm sure we will, Dox," the Andorian nodded as she checked the PaDD, thinking it was an odd coincidence as Tathaa also had a headache this morning. Probably just the twins giving her quad a bad night. "Look after the ship until we get back, right?"

"Aye, Commander. We'll keep the lights on for you." Dox replied in kind as she nodded and headed to her office while Ensign Gavarus returned to the R&D Department.

"Okay, people," Thex nodded as she turned to her team. "We have a ship to fix and people to save. Make sure your gears working and let's get to work." She said to her team, keeping her speech brief. The burly Klingon women moved to the rear of the craft, settling in and strapping down. Away missions to starships without power tended to be grisly affairs, and the sisters were mentally preparing themselves to guide the away team out of trouble.

After a quick check to ensure their gear was operational, the away team boarded the Thor, and got ready to go. Ensign Wieaex, the three-armed and three-legged Edosian pilot took her place at the helm, as chatty as she generally was. "Okay. Looks like the systems all checkout, and we're good to go."

Tapping the consoles comm panel, the outgoing Edosian continued the pre-flight check with two of her free hands. "Hera flight control, this is the Thor, requesting clearance. Over."

As they waited for clearance, the literally stone-faced Malana took the science and operations seat and pulled up the sensor readouts. The Thor didn't have the best sensors of the support craft the Hera carried, but they were still far from the weakest. They were just normally tuned for tactical readouts so it took Malana a few moments to pull up the recon and rescue configurations.

"This is Hera flight control, you are cleared for departure on takeoff vector 5, Thor. be careful out there," came the reply from the Hera's flight deck.

After a moment, the smaller support craft was cleared and quickly moved into open space towards the adrift Turing in the distance. Moving slowly, the skilled pilot monitored the situation as they approached the darkened Starship. "That is just creepy, watching it roll around like that, isn't it? I'm on one-quarter impulse. Even with our shields holding, there's occasional turbulence from the energy waves coming off that ice cream cone of doom out there. Even this far away. Okay, looks like we're about 381 thousand klicks from the object. What's our move, Commander?"

Thex was looking at the ship thinking of the best place to insert her team. " Take us into the port side airlock. We'll dock there and proceed to engineering." The Andorian decided. " We'll use the ship as a buffer."

Calling up the Oberth-Class schematics on her helm control with one hand, Ensign Weiaex brought the runabout around on a steady approach. "Will do, Commander. Bringing her around now."

As she did, she flipped on the external guiding lights to better see where she was going but even the ambient light from the floodlamps flickered and wavered in the radiant energy absorption effect just outside their ship's shields. "Yeah, that's not ideal. And also extra creepy. Yeah, gonna bring her in on pure instrumental... thank you Chief for the extra sim training... okay everyone. We're backing into the airlock port, hold on to yer butts."

Very slowly, Thor's rear inched into the indent of the Turing's port side airlock as Thex ordered and there was a light shudder as the skilled pilot threaded that proverbial needed perfectly and the docking clamps sent a dull clanking sound that reverberated throughout the cabin. "Locked and docked, Commander."

Okay, let's do this. Thex thought to herself as she took her position at the lead of the team. " Okay, everyone. I'll lead the way, Mah and Malana in the center and the Wil'I'Ams sisters bringing up the rear. Wieaex, stay with the ship and keep her safe. Seal the hatch behind us and only open for our ID codes. We don't know the state of our fellow fleet members so keep phasers on stun. " She said calmly.

Pulling out her phaser, Petty Officer V'Nus checked the weapon and her own Heads Up Display. And even with the enhanced shielding in place, the data she was getting was lean at best and her phaser's power supply, equally shielded, still seemed to be fluctuating. And even though the Klingon woman was no officer, she decided to speak up. "Commander sh'Zoarhi. With the energy-draining effect permeating this vessel, it's possible our weapons may not reliably function. May I recommend Petty Officer S'Rina and I taking up positions at both the front and the rear until we have cleared the entry point as safe?"

"Permission granted," Thex replied as she moved her position in the team giving her phaser a final check before giving the go-ahead. "Let's do this, people."

With a flick of her wrist, a bronze gladius appeared in Petty Officer S'Rina's hand as she moved to take the lead, nodding in unspoken agreement with her sister. As the more aggressive of the two, she would take point, while the more perceptive of the duo would bring up the rear. There was a very low likelihood of trouble and a high likelihood of casualties, so S'Rina set the stage.

"This is an adrift vessel. There may be decompressions and... physical remains of such events." It was the most clinical way the Klingon security officer could explain that decompression deaths in zero-G left spectacularly messy corpses. "There may be sections with no artificial gravity, but the maglocks in our boots should keep us secured to the deck. The atmosphere may or may not be breathable. Do not take that chance. There is modified shielding on our EVA armors that we have been assured will work, but be prepared for that to fail in the face of the unexpected. Stay together and focus on our objective- as the Commander said, first we get to engineering and secure it. Now, is everyone buttoned up and ready?"

At the rear, Petty Officer V'Nus materialized a long staff from her bracers and nodded, as they looked to the ship's doctor and biologist to ensure they were ready.

The civilian biologist Ahreva Malana finally sealed her suit but left the air supply off before nodding to signal her readiness. "As I do not require air for more than speech, I will conserve mine in case it is needed for emergencies. However... I feel something... watching... Not unlike how my own race watches. So I will maintain the integrity of my suit."

For her part, Tova nodded and took note of the comment on remains, "If there are remains I will obviously need a look to determine cause of death, and who was lost. We can't assume decompression is the COD, it may merely be the final result of some other issue." She looked at the crew to see if further justification and reasoning was needed. She wanted everyone that began this journey together leaving together, and knew sometimes you had to learn from the mistakes of others to avoid making them as well with the same results.

With a few nods, the team activated their magnetic boots and opened the airlock seal from the Runabout Thor into the drifting Starship Turing. There was an eerie hiss as the door opened into the darkened corridor into the Turing. With S'Rina at the front, weapons at the ready, the team slowly stepped into the pitch-black space.

Once clear, Ensign Wieaex nervously closed and sealed off the Thor as ordered, leaving Thex, Malana, Tovanna, S'Rina and V'Nus alone as they worked their way in step-by-step. The Turing's blueprints overlaid in each officer's heads-up-display enabled them to see where they were going in the almost total darkness. Helmet-mounted flashlights cut through the murky blackness a bit, but with the energy absorption effect, it seemed to somehow almost eat the light ever so slightly, making the ship's corridors feel that much more claustrophobic as they advanced, magnetic boots clanking through the stale remnants of the remaining air in the space.

Suddenly, a sensor warning went off in the HUD's of the Klingon security sisters, as a rhythmic beep indicated the presence of something moving towards them in the corridor ahead of them.

“Incoming,” S’Rina growled as the contact moved closer and closer, then rounded the corner, only to launch themselves at the burly Klingon warrior.

Unencumbered by a spacesuit, shirtless and feral, a bald humanoid male with blonde eyebrows launched himself at S’Rina, clawing at her faceplate with his chipped and broken fingernails. As he literally frothed at the mouth, she withstood his tackle, taking a step back to hold onto her balance, but bearing the additional weight of the crazed crew member with relative ease. As the madman scrabbled at her armor, trying to find some purchase for his nails or teeth, the petty officer waited for her moment, then drove a fist across the lunatic’s jaw, staggering him. Another blow followed, this one an uppercut into the sternum that lifted the madman off the deck by a dozen centimeters or so. Then another right cross, and the gibbering humanoid fell to the deck, clearly unconscious.

“He tried to impale himself on my sword,” the Security officer grumbled, stepping over him to eye the corridor around the corner. Where there was one, there were bound to be more.

"Madness." V'Nus replied, eyeing the unconscious man on the floor, his breathing still sharp and erratic as if he were still raging within his own mind. Looking him up and down for a second, she stepped aside to cover the Hera's Doctor as she commented on an observation. "Those pants and boots as Starfleet issue. Likely a crewmember."

"Excellent work ladies, let's see what is going on with him." Dr. Mah was on the downed man in an instant, sedating him to keep him down, then she started running diagnostics on the crewman in record time. "What in the name of all the galaxy?" She saw the extensive wounds, broken teeth, cerebral swelling, and neurological output. She immediately did a scan for biological components in the brain; parasites, viral infection, bacterium, hemorrhage, or aneurysm. Nothing was coming up but the Theta wave activity was being disrupted. She looked up at the group confused and looked over the results for the man's genetics to see if they played a part in his issues or if it was merely exposure without a suit that caused his deterioration.

Thex opened her coms back to the shuttle. " Weiaex we have encountered one of the crew. They are openly hostile and may be contaminated. Have the Hera have a decontamination team on stand by in case we need to bug out quickly. " She said to the shuttle before looking again at the downed crewman. " He's bald. Deltan perhaps?" she said getting her own suit to run through a list of the ship's crew to see if any matched.

Dr. Mah nodded in confirmation at Thex once she had full readouts, "Indeed, he is not just a bald human. I'm looking at the Theta wave disruption and what could be causing it, wait even these highest ranges of the Deltas have been affected." She looked from her tricorder to Thex, "I've crossed off all internal biological issues, microbial infections....his hormonal reading are reflective of someone under prolonged stress, like his body is in overdrive. This has to be external, but what?" She looked at the rest of the crew, "Do NOT take off your suits, that's medical orders. In the meantime we need to figure out what the hell is causing these disruptions." She looked over the crew doing a quick rundown of susceptible parties still cautious.

The stone woman, Malana, spoke up as she too crouched to inspect the Deltan crewmember. "My people communicate in a manner similar to telepathy but in a much slower manner... Perhaps... This is the cause of the feeling of being watched I've felt for some time now. As if my people were staring at me from afar."

To Be Continued...

"Form up," the Klingon security petty officer ordered the commissioned officers. "We need to get to engineering and the bridge, yes? Get the engines running, make the shield modifications and get the ship back online is the mission, save or punch out the crew is secondary?"

Nodding, V'Nus tightened her formation around the rear of the group. But the slightly more compassionate of the two sisters put a hand on the doctor's shoulder. "Once the ship is secured and power restored, we can help everyone, Doctor. For now, this one is in no immediate danger. Perhaps a sedative to ensure he will not rouse himself and do more harm to himself or others while we work?"

The leaner of the two Klingons had long thought been considering preparing for the officer's exam and was trying to think like one as she looked up to the mission commander and Hera's second officer for orders.

" Give him a sedative doc. We'll head for engineering. If everything working down there I should be able to get the ship moving without having to take the bridge." The engineer said as she looked around the corridor to check they were still clear. " Malana if that feeling gets any worse tell me immediately. "

“Engineering is this way,” S’Rina pointed forward. “Form up, stay together, and let’s move out.”

Through the darkness of the corridor, the team moved slowly but with focus. Eyes and ears all focused and listening. The Turing's manifest had a crew of 80. 9 of that crew went down to examine the planetoid and with the Deltan unconscious, that meant there could be 70 more crewmembers roaming the hall, driven mad like the one they encountered. Or locked down somewhere waiting to be rescued. Or dead.

But for now, those were all possibilities to be discovered with time. And for now, action was what was needed. Forward momentum and their mission as they made their way closer to the Turing's engine room. From the rear, V'Nus tapped her Heads Up Display and turned to look behind the team for a moment. "Sensors are muddy... but there's movement. Coming up behind us. The map shows the entrance to Engineering is... 20 meters forward. Be on guard, there is an intersection 10 meters ahead. We will be vulnerable."

As the team came to the intersection, there was the sound of breathing coming from all sides as it became clear that more crewmembers were closing in on the away team.

Stopping her tricorder scans of what would be affecting the fissure that separates the CA1 molecular layer from the dentate gyrus molecular layer, Dr. Mah could see in herself that this area of her brain had a marked reduction in Theta wave activity. With a long period of time, this would have detrimental effects on all of them, however, for any highly rated PSI race this was disastrous. If the noises beginning to surround them were any indication they were about to get a first-hand look at the results of this type of exposure.

"Commander, recommend targeting PSI level races first, they are highest priority. They may be harder to take down than usual, I'll explain after." She knew she likely gave their position away but she also realized she may have just saved many more lives in the process. The Starfleet physician holstered her scanner and made sure her weapon was set to maximum stun settings. If cortisol levels, stress hormones and other adrenaline-like chemicals were at the rates she suspected they were in for a fight. She could heal light damage later, Death didn't need extra duties on this away mission.

As soon as a couple of the mad Turing crew attacked, Malana moved into action so fast that it surprised even her as her race was known for sitting still for hundreds, if not millions of years. Still, being a pacifist, she didn't actually counterattack, but instead grabbed them around the waist and slammed them against the wall to pin them in place. As the blow seemed to have no effect on the Betazoid and human she had grabbed, having pinned them literally between a rock and a bulkhead yet losing her footing, Malana decided she needed a firmer grip and the buzzing in her head was getting just that much worse so she pulled back just slightly and drove her hands directly into the wall's computer panels and clung onto the infrastructure inside which stripped the gloves from her suit in the process.

"Doctor... At your... Convenience... Please..." the stone woman struggled to enunciate as the two she was holding clawed and beat at her to get free.

Pulling her hypo out with practiced ease, Dr. Mah pumped up the sedative, knowing it would be needed to counteract the current hormone levels. It wasn't her first time in 60 years of medical practice wrangling around rowdy patients and she hit each as quick as a dart watching them crumple immediately.

"Thank you Malana," she looked at the woman's hands, "Your gear has been compromised." She switched out her hypo for the scanner looking at any possible foreign matter and infection as well as abrasions themselves not wanting any embedded metal remaining in her hands to do more damage during a fight.

As for Petty Office S'Rina, this was her moment,

As the crazed and feral Starfleet personnel came at them, she manifested her phaser first, firing once, twice, until the weapon ran out of charge on the second shot. Returning it to the extradimensional space from which it had come, she was surprised when her request for a melee weapon received no response. The bracers of Hera had never failed her before, but no matter,. With a grim smile, she stepped into the oncoming wave of personnel, armed only with her bare hands.

Throughout her Starfleet career, restraint was the watchword. Watch what you say, don't use too much force, don't hurt other Starfleet personnel, mind your honor. Today she stood at the vanguard of the exploration away team, and they were in danger. Energy weapons did not function, and it seemed she was reduced to her body as the only weapon available. Which was just fine with her.

Grabbing one incoming crewman by the face, she used his forward charging momentum against him, her superior strength enabling her to drive him back, legs leaving the deck as she drove his chest down to it, knocking the air from his lungs even as she pivoted to sweep the legs out of the next charging madwoman. The first crewman's head hitting the deck she felt was no6t hard enough to break his skull or cripple him, but should render him unconscious at the very least. Finishing the spin she had used to sweep the legs out from under the next crewman, as she rose she lashed out with a kick that would break ribs and leave the average humanoid unable to rise, let alone fight.

Rising, she turned it into an uppercut, her fist driving the pointy-eared madman up into the overhead before he dropped to the deck, knocked completely senseless by the fierce attack. As two more rushed her, another Vulcan woman and a human-Betazoid? She neither knew nor cared. The Vulcan's strength was impressive, fueled by adrenaline as it was. But S'Rina Wil'I'Ams worked out to venter her frustrations. Already sturdy, hardy and blessed with a strong physique, she worked out daily to improve upon it. As a member of Hera's honor guard, the gifts of her aura were available for the staking- greater strength, speed, agility, and endurance.

The Klingon warrior had accepted it all, and was quite well off for the choice.

Beyond all that was the simmering rage which burned within her at all times. Rage at her ancestors for their dishonor. Rage at the rules and regulations which kept her bridled and restrained in her actions. Rage which seldom got outlet, save in sparring with the angry Romulan chief flight officer, who seemed to have similar issues. That rage was seldom given an outlet- but this was a perfect moment for her. As the two scrabbled at her armor, flailing and biting at her, she delivered brief, savage strikes on both of them, knocking them unconscious with deliberate and practiced ease... although perhaps with more force than was necessary.

This was a rare moment for her to cut loose, and she was taking full advantage of it to cripple some lunatic Starfleet officer. Not kill, just cripple- otherwise she would never hear the end of it from her sister.

That sister, for her part, was hard at work with a maddened human and what appeared to be another Betazoid, perhaps. V'Nus was a skilled warrior, though taller and leaner than her more thickly muscled sister, she made up for slightly less strength with a greater emphasis on finesse and lightning speed.

Once her phaser had bee lb exhausted by the ambient energy absorption effect, she had switched over to her duranium bo staff. It gave her greater range and allowed her to incapacitate multiple goes with less force. A guick jab to the throat of the raging human in a gold Starfleet tunic left him gasping for air, which made it a simple matter to pick up the wounded crew member and us him as a literal battering ram to slam her remaining foes to the deck.

From there, the skilled combatant utilized nerve strikes she had learned from the angry Romulan's mother in training that quickly knocked them out cold.

Thex grunted as one of the mad crew jumped onto her nearly sending the Andorian over. Her usual fighting style was impossible in her bulky Evo suit, but Thex was an Andorian. She could still remember the pain on her back from her parent's whips and sticks from when she failed. She wasn't going to go down without a fight. Letting out an Andorian battle cry she charged back slamming the blue-clad Vulcan into the wall. The Vulcan screamed coating the back of her suit with green blood as she elbowed the crewman hard in the chest. She loosened her grip allowing Thex to turn and smash the Vulcan in the face with one hand as she brought up her phaser hitting the Vulcan with a heavy stun which sent her falling to the floor

As Malana inspected the shreds of her suit's gloves and her hands in Doctor Tova's light, she saw that her suit's gloves were a complete loss. Not much of an issue since she had sealed her suit but not turned it on or anything. However, what was more concerning was the fact that there were now several chips in her granite-based physique. As her people didn't heal like normal biologicals and had to be patched, this was mildly concerning. "When we return to the ship, I will forward my medical requirements to you for my repair compounds. For now though... I believe the feeling from earlier is starting to become... mildly annoying."

Getting up, the moans of a few of the Turing's enraged crew members was all that remained of the immediate threat. V'Nus looked around to confirm that her and her sister's charges were intact before nodding. "There. The path to engineering appears a good degree clearer, Commander sh'Zoarhi."

" Indeed. Let's keep moving in case there are any more out there. " Thex said leading the way towards the heart of the ship.

As they arrived at the double doors that lead into engineering, the power was insufficient for the doors to open when they hit the pad by the door. So, after checking their surroundings while S'Rina stood guard, V'Nus opened the wall panel below the access pad and pulled out the small, metal handle that allowed her to manually pump the doors open. It took a few moments, but with a stale hiss, the minimal atmosphere in the corridor rushed into the darkened engineering chamber.

Stepping in first, S'Rina took point to ensure there were no rabid crewmembers inside. But her searchlight, however dim, revealed something else. Something more unsettling.

While the towering warp core itself was dark, the few seats in the chamber had a number of officers strapped in them, arms hovering limply in the minimal gravity. In total, 8 crewmembers that were still in engineering when the life support began to fail. But there was still some air in the chamber, so there was still some hope that the crewmember who had stayed at their posts trying to keep the engines alive might, themselves, be alive.

The stone woman, Malana, pulled free her personal scanner and ran it around the area for a moment before tucking it back away. "It seems the minimal height of the corridors maintained the residual gravitons for much longer than the open engineering bay. I detect zero residual graviton emissions near the core. I also detect another thirty-eight biologicals in the maintenance conduits. Oxygen levels are thirty-three percent lower than Federation standards."

Without saying anything the commander was already at one of the control panels finding out what was still working. Thankfully there was still power, but the look on her face showed a situation that needed no words to explain. This girl was a mess. " Great. Many of the ship's systems are fried, half are broken and many I can't even find the staus off. I can get secondary life support up and running using the emergency power cells, then I can work on the warp core. " She said already grabbing a repair kit from the locker. " This is going to be loud. Get the entrances closed and watch the maintenance conduits in case someone tries coming through."

Meanwhile, Dr. Mah was immediately drawn to the crewmen strapped in the seats, going to any of them she already determined were a priority based upon race. Performing a general scan of the first she came upon, with the additional scan for the Theta wave disruption in the entorhinal cortex, in the medial temporal lobe. It was a quick way to determine disruption since high levels of Theta waves were easily read in this area of the brain. She rapidly did the same for all of the crewmen, before walking over to Malana to see if a similar frequency was being disturbed within her body, despite the biological differences. "My apologies Malana, I need to check something to confirm my suspicions before I can come to a conclusion on what may be causing this sudden rash of behavioral disturbance." She ran the scanner over the large woman, looking for a frequency within the Theta and Delta range that corresponded to the one being disrupted within the humanoid races she was dealing with. Returning to the most damaged patient, she built her report to the Commander.

At the door, V'Nus had opened the control panel on their end and, using the manual lever inside, closed the exterior doors. Then, using her duranium staff, jammed the lever in place so that the door couldn't be opened from the other side. "Main entrance secured, Commander."

Then turning to her burly sister, V'Nus glanced at the two maintenance conduits. "Sister, perhaps we can find some means to seal off these conduits and... wait." Putting her hand to the side of her helmet, the taller of the two Klingon's had a raised eyebrow. "Commander sh'Zoarhi. The communications channel with the Hera is choppy, but we are receiving a message from the Hera. I shall try and boost the transmission gain."

After a few seconds of adjusting the frequency of her helmet's transceiver, the Klingon Security officer put the message on speaker for all to see. "...is Lieutenant Commander Do... *KKKKT*... from Yeoman Dedjoy regarding the nature of the signals from Primordious. Using the information received from your team and Commander Paris', we are attempting to communicate with what we believe to be an intelligence down... *KKKKT*. The theta wave disruption appears to be affecting crewmembers with psionic... *KKKKT*... and recommend focusing on the shield modifications to the Turing to block the detrimental signal...*KKKKT*"

Thex was listening as she continued her desperate work to get everything back up and running. " Thex to the Hera message received....." She said as with a wack of a few cables the ships back up life support thudded into a weak life. " Okay, that's being held together by happy thoughts let's hope it hold/ " She said first checking the rising oxygen levels before looking at her team. " Right we need to get the shields up and modified. V'Nus third pannel of the left from the door... is it working?" The Andorian yelled as she turned her attention to the warp core. If they needed the shields up they'd need at least some power from the warp core.

The lean security officer in the gold armor stepped over to the panel in question and tapped on the dark screen. After a few flickers, the LCARS display weakly began to glow. "Power is minimal, but Aye. It is working, Commander."

" Good keep an eye on it. If any error message pop up tell me at once." Thex said as she opened up the manual controls to reset the warp core. " S'Rhia can you man the main console as soon as it comes on tell me."

"Lieutenant Commander, with respect, there are active signatures in the ductworks, and hostile forces known to be in the area. My duty is to ensure the safety of the landing party, and I cannot do that if I am monitoring a technical panel. Sir." S'Rina had still edged over to the main console, but she was watching for threats from all sides as she did so.

" Understood watch the ducts. I'll have to do this from memory. " Running through the process that was burned into her brain from her time at the academy. It would take seven minutes to do this from an emergency shut down if everything was okay which there was a good chance this wasn't.

From there, the room became eerily quiet. S'Rina watched the interior points of entry, on guard for further excursions while V'Nus manned the panel closest to the main door which enabled her to remain on guard at that entry point. Malana and Dr. Mah did their bet to attend to the crewmembers in the room who had passed out from the low oxygen, keeping them stable with hypos and tlc while Thex worked feverishly on the Turing's engines.

Two minutes in, there was a bang on the main doors followed by a scraping sound as crewmembers in the corridor were clearly trying to get inside the hard way. It was a momentary distraction, but the doors held firm and didn't budge. In their crazed state, it was clear that the altered crewmembers lacked the mental faculties to attempt to use the control panel or the manual lever that V'Nus had jammed on their end. And the work continued.

Thex was doing her best to keep the sound of banging out as she struggled to single-handled do a job that normally needed three people to do safely. Thankfully for her, the core was relatively okay as she worked her magic as she slid the dilithium crystal matrix back into place. A slight humming brought a smile to her face as the machine began to power up.

Slowly, the lights in the engineering chamber began to softly glow back to life as the various consols began powering back up and a light hiss of flowing oxygen could be heard through the vents. With power humming gently back into the Starship, the next step was in adding the new shield frequencies to the ship in order to block the detrimental signal from Primordious that was causing the psi-sensitive members of the Turing's crew to continue to rage in the corridors outside of engineering.

A smile was on Thex fae as she slid out from under the warp core handling port. " Girl don't fail me now. " She said leaping over to the console despite being in her heavy spacesuit. She already had the new shield frequency loaded up on her helmets hud. Her fingers were flying over the console as she worked to get the new frequency loaded up. She was having to override the ship's safety frequencies as the primary shield matrix was down and the ship was running on its backup. " Come on..." She said as a bang echoed from the door as the crew continued to force their way in. " And there we go." The Andorian yelled triumphantly as the ship shoot as its shields thundered into life.

Moments later, there was a strange sound out in the corridor, on the other side of the door. A faint groaning could be heard and a series of light thudding sounds as both Klingon sisters glanced at each other. Stepping from the panel she had been at, V'Nus stepped over to the main door panel and began punching in data. "Computer. Security override, Omega-6-6-7-9-x-Delta. Wil'I'Ams, V'Nus. Petty Officer. U.S.S. Hera. Display security feeds, this station."

After a moment, there was a light chirrup and the computer's voice, somehow colder sounding than the Hera's own, chimed back. =^=Security override code accepted. Security feeds rerouted.=^=

"Call up the holographic scan feeds. External corridor, main engineering." V'Nus said, as a holographic representation of what was just outside the door appeared in the center of the room for all to see. On it, was several officers, doubled over in pain on the deck of the corridor, grabbing their heads and moaning. But they looked decidedly less crazy.

"Doctor Mah. From this station, you should be able to access the medical scanners to confirm their status. Protocol dictates that once we have power, we should beam them directly into isolation in the brig until we can confirm that the shields are working and they are themselves again, however." V'Nus said calmly, but firmly. They were going to take no chances.

Dr. Mah nodded in understanding "Shields or not, suits need to stay on. If that message is correct we are facing an onslaught of continual Theta wave disruption, so every protection will help. In the meantime, once the affected patients are in the brig lets get them tuned into a proper Theta enhancing biofeedback and a medial level of antigrav to help induce natural Theta production. We also need to have these crewmen put into med to do the same." She sighed, "If we are dealing with a lifeform that changes things. We don't want to harm them however we need to help our crewmen as well." She looked at Thex worried.

" Sounds like a plan. I'll get power back to the transporters and the medbay. We can get the EMH up and running to assist. Then I'll make sure this ship isn't going to fail again." The Andorian confidently said from the station which she was already working on. " I'll get some emergency repair teams and medical personnel over from the Hera as well. "

And as the azure engineer got back to work, there was a moment of relief in the engine room of the Turing as it's crewmember slowly began to regain consciousness with full life support restored. There was still much to be done to return the fragile, Oberth-class starship to proper working order, but for the moment at least, the crisis had been averted.

At least on the Turing.

"Shhh... rest. Just... just rest, Flures." Captain Marnia DeVonis of the U.S.S. Turing said quietly. Though they were both in EVA suits, the middle-aged human captain ran her gloved head over the top of her Caitian Lieutenant's helmet. There was scorching across the Lieutenant's teal armor and he was weak. The sensors on their systems were utterly useless, but it was clear that something had broken inside the brown-furred feline when their shuttlecraft went down. "There was... something. I saw another ship. It went down over the lake, but that means Starfleet IS here, Lieutenant. They're here for US, so you hold on. You got our signal lit, so you hold on."

The weary Captain did her best to put strength behind her words as she looked up at the massive crystal outcropping of the planetoid, pulsing with a purple glow that her clever exobiologist figured out how to charge using the local bioluminescent plant life and some first aid supplies to create a chemically charged beacon that would function even in the energy-draining nature of this planetoid. But now, that light was beginning to dim. The biochemical power source was almost fully depleted and while DeVonis was not a religious woman, she found herself wondering if now would be a good time to start believing in something. In anything that would save her people.

At least, those that survived the crash, and the dangers of this strange and hostile world.

What she did not expect was the sudden appearance of a golden-armored woman crashing through the underbrush, with a blue-armored figure in a piggyback carry on her back, arms strap secured across her shoulders. Stopping short, the woman took in the situation at a glance. Then she eased down to one knee, to gently remove the EVA suited individual from her back and gingerly and reverently ease them down to the ground. Then she stood, stretching out her back as she did so.

“He ain’t heavy, he’s my husband. Hello, Captain DeVonis I presume? I’m Rita Paris, USS Hera. We’re here to help,” she explained, offering her hand to the beleaguered captain of the USS Turing with a smile that said everything was under control.

Standing up slowly, the caramel-skinned human woman in the crimson EVA armor blinked for a moment as she processed everything she had just seen and heard as she took the offered hand. "Yes. I'm Marnia DeVonis. This is Lieutenant Flures. The remainder of my party is at the base of the hill in the shelter we put together after the crash. The Hera? We lost contact with our own ship- is the Turing still out there?"

“Last I checked, aye, ma'am. She’s adrift in a decaying orbit, as she’s lost power. But there’s an away team who are probably over there right now, adjusting her shielding and getting her back online. I'm sure the crew have been resourceful enough to keep themselves alive while they waited for rescue. So while your shuttlecraft may be a loss, you haven’t lost your command, Captain.” Kneeling down by the ragged breathing Caitian, Paris frowned as she checked him over. “Mmmm… not good. How many survivors, and how many injured, ma’am?”

"Five alive. One injured. Myself, our pilot, Ensign Shing. Our doctor, Garcia. Lieutenant Ka'Tang and Flures here." the weary Captain said, lowering her head as she said the names. "The bulkhead in front of Flures here exploded when the shuttle went down, but we... we came up here and got that signal powered. We... had three security officers. When those... crystals... began eating the shuttle, they opened fire. Their phasers were... like a beacon. I'd never seen anything like it. The crystals grew through mid-air in an instant. Absorbed the beams and the officers. Enveloped them in moments."

"And... and our science officer. S'aked. Vulcan. He... doubled over in pain before we went down. He was next to Flures when the bulkhead went, he was blown out, and died on impact. Four dead." DeVonis said, taking a breath and collecting herself to resume the posture of a commanding officer. "What about your man? What happened? I saw your craft go down over the lake?"

Placing her hand on the captain's shoulder, Paris looked into the woman's eyes. The officer had been through a lot, and reliving the memories of those officers whose losses were still so fresh in her mind was there, in her red-rimmed and somewhat sunken sleep-deprived eyes. "I'm sorry about your losses, Captain. It's hard to press on in bad conditions, but you did an admirable job. We're gonna get you out of here, you and your people- our people have developed shielding against the energy-draining properties of the crystals, and they're working on getting us out of here. Thanks to your beacon there, I found you. Now they'll find me here, too. For what it's worth... good work, ma'am."

"Thank you..." DeVonis glanced at the rank markers on Rita's gold armor, "... Commander."

Then, having shaken off the momentary bout of emotion, the Turing's Captain was back in business-mode as she turned to look down at Sonak. "My suit's sensors are dead, but your officer's armor looks intact. Did he get injured in the...wait... he's Vulcan as well? What's wrong with him, Commander?"

"There is a powerful psychic energy output here that is assaulting his perceptions and thoughts. Given my observations thus far, I suspect it's the dark crystals. We were performing a survey run when we got hit by an energy wave of some sort. Even with the shielding, it drained our power, so I augered in for a landing while I still had power. It wasn't my best landing, but to be fair, I hit a mountain that wasn't supposed to be there." Hoisting Sonak up onto her shoulder again in a fireman's carry, Paris nodded to the injured officer. "Can you carry him, ma'am? If not, I can run Sonak down to the others and come back?"

"Psychic energy... that explains my own officer." DeVonis had a quizzical expression on her face, still a scientist even under the worst circumstances. "And I'm fine. I can get Flures just fine."

"The hell you can, Ca.. Gyyah..." The brown-furred Caitlin groaned as he tried sitting back up as he moaned in pain. Kneeling over, the Captain shushed her officer

"Stifle that, Lieutenant. Any more lip out of you and I'll put you on report for insubordination." DeVonis said with a grin as she gently lifted the surprisingly light feline officer. "Follow us, Commander. The shelter is small but serviceable and our doctor can look over your officer."

"Sonak is in a healing trance- it was the only way he could preserve himself and not let the psychic energy overwhelm me too," Paris explained. "For now, we have to let him sleep, so to speak. Waking him would expose him to the psychic energy here, and as remarkable as the Kolinahr's telepathy is, Promirdius seems to be a bit too much for psychic sensitives."

"Primordious? So Object: X33... whatever... has a name. Easier to remember, at least." DeVonis chuckled slightly as she logged the new information, carrying her Caitian Lieutenant carefully down the hillside. The surface was pitted with vines, roots and other twisting and winding plantlife like the rest of the unusual planetoid. "And it seems our best way, then, to cure what ails him is to get him away from this place. I'm... concerned. If these psionic... signals extend beyond the surface, I have a number of crewmembers from races that a sensitive to such things. Several more Vulcans, Deltans. Even a few of my human crewmembers have a high PSI rating from Starfleet. I hope they're not similarly affected."

“Sonak is… very experienced with such phenomenon,” Paris explained. “In order for it to overwhelm his defenses, it must be a signal of considerable power. He and I are bonded, so we share a psychic link, which he has all but shut down so I can keep moving and he can protect himself from what’s driven him into his own mind to protect himself. For now, all we can do is hope for the best and get him- and us- out of here.”

As the spoke, the officers came upon a clearing at the base of the hill where two Starfleet issue shelter tents had been constructed. Neither by itself was large enough to stand in, but combined, they would provide at least a stable base to function. From one of the tents, a young man in gold EVA armor came out, who appeared to be at least half-Klingon but with a soft, youthful face and nervous eyes. "Captain! You're back! Is... Is this... are we rescued?"

"Calm down Lieutenant Ka'Tang. Yes, Starfleet has sent a rescue ship, but we're not ready to evac just yet. It's your shift to man the beacon. Take Ensign Shing with you and you'll be relieved 4 hours. Maybe less, if we can get out of here sooner." The human Captain said as she set the injured Caitian down with a grunt inside the tent opening. As she did, the two young officers headed up the hill with a bag on their shoulders.

As they passed the extradimensional explorer noted the lack of weaponry between the officers- not that she had encountered and fauna or inset life, but that didn’t mean they were not out there, along with the threat of the dark crystals. Setting Sonak down gently, Paris called out to the two young officers. “Hey! Do either of you have any proficiency with bladed weapons?”
The half-Klingon hesitantly held up his hand. “Uh, I am proficient with blades, ma’am…?”

With a flick of her wrist, Paris produced a green metal scimitar out of nowhere into her hand. Notched near the point, the hilt appeared to be wrapped in a purple animal hide of some sort. Flipping it over to catch it by the flat of the blade, she offered the hilt to the junior officer who seemed as though he could use a bit of security right now. Arming those who felt helpless tended to do that, in Paris experience.

“It’s dangerous to go unarmed. Take this,” she offered with a smile. While his eyes were a bit wide, the young officer accepted the offered weapon, hefted it experimentally, then with a grin he nodded and moved to climb the hill with more purpose in his stride.

“You want to explain how you did that?” Captain DeVonis asked.

“It’s a long story,” Paris deflected, adding, “But, it looks like we do have time…”


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


Twenty minutes ago, on the bridge of the Hera, the mood was tense as all the crew remaining on the mighty Starship could do was wait as it was too dangerous at the time to move any closer. Even with the enhanced shielding, they were taking no chances. Captain Telvan sat forward in her seat, watching the data readouts from both away teams. At the helm, Lieutenant Commander Dox was tapping her foot anxiously as she too was monitoring all the feeds, as was her habit. The red-headed Romulan seemed slightly more anxious than normal.

From the Opps position to Dox's left, the young Bajoran woman in crimson had a mildly concerned expression as a warning light came up on her screen. "C... Captain, we're getting a distress signal front he Curiosity."

"Open a channel," Enalia ordered, almost hitting the command herself on her chair before issuing the order.

Over the comm, came the collected but focused voice of Commander Rita Paris through a wall of pops and hisses. "Curiosity to H... *KKKKT* mayday, may... *KKKKT* ...re losing pow... *KKKKT* ...d our orb... *KKKKT* ...decay... *KKKKT* ...oing dow... *KKKKKKKKKKKT*" "

As the signal went dead, the Opps officer, Ensign Cance, turned back while Dox seemed to be absorbed with checking the data herself. "That's it, Captain. All telemetry from the Curiosity is blank. We're not even getting a transponder signal anymore. Too much interference from that surface effect."

"We are, however, picking up an emergency distress beacon that is making its way toward us at a very slow speed," came the voice of the science officer on duty on the bridge. "It is nearly in tractor beam range now, Captain."

"Lock on tractor as soon as you can. Even if you can't get a direct lock, if you can just get their momentum moving towards us, that's enough." The spotted Captain tapped at her own sensor feeds a moment before frowning. "Our comm relays would die after less than a minute with this power drain. We need alternative options."

From the helm, Dox was running her fingers across her console quickly, mouthing quietly to herself for a moment before turning around. The Romulan pilot's expression was a tense one as she pushed past her usual reluctance to speak up. "Captain. I've been looking over the telemetry and data feeds from the Thor, and we've been routing communication with Commander sh'Zoarhi's team through the runabout's shielded systems. That data feed has occasional dips and minor interruptions, but it's still connected."

"There's an... an old smuggler's trick to getting messages through nebulae and other areas of space with heavy interference. We use to use smaller ships at staggered distances to boost a stronger signal over shorter gaps. In this case, I believe that the Silver Banshee has her shields fitted for this situation." Dox winced slightly as she spoke, squinting one eye for just a moment before she continued. It was barely noticeable, but there nonetheless. "If we positioned the Banshee between the Hera and a point along Commander Paris' last flight path where her signal was clear... say, here..."

As she spoke, Dox forwarded the data she had been working up to the Captain's station, "...we might be able to get a signal through to the landing team. Open communication, at least."

"A trick I'm familiar with, but in the Artans we usually used unmanned escape pods," Enalia replied, taking note of the issues Dox was having. "If the Banshee is ready, have O'Dell go out and try to re-establish communications. As for the Turing and the Thor, I assume one of our remaining Cyclones have the necessary shield modifications and comm systems to act as a relay?"

"Both are already prepped, re-shielded and ready, Captain." Dox said, a little more confidently, as the Flight Deck was under her purview and she had made sure to prep for as many eventualities as she could foresee, making sure all the cyclones and support craft were properly shielded and prepared. "I would recommend piloted vehicles as the gravimetric fluctuations out there are unpredictable and need a pilot's touch to compensate for them, in my opinion."

The seasoned pilot understood the risks, but also felt it was the best chance of success for the overall mission. Tapping the comm panel on her console, Dox sent out the message to the highly skilled test pilot. "Dox to O'Dell. Suit up for extra-vehicular Silver Banshee maneuvers. Mission parameters are coming your way now."

On the R&D flight deck on Deck 3, O’Dell and Gavarus looked up from the hydraulic system they were currently looking to refine for a presentation to their chief, and nodded to one another. Tapping her comm badge, the minuscule Mariposian was already bounding toward the locker room. “Aye mum, I’ll be ready to deploy in four minutes.”

Four minutes covered the three minutes she would need to wrestle into her EVA armor, with the fourth getting locked into the Banshee, which Ensign Gavarus was already moving to prep for launch.


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

Sitting by a small and sputtering campfire she’d built, Paris was working on projecting calm.

Yes, Sonak was in danger, and unconscious beside her. Not exactly the fun planetary exploration adventure that she had envisioned. But he was alive and hopefully he would be fine, so she had to trust in that. Just as she had to trust in the crew of the Hera to figure out how to rescue them… because they would.

Yes, her campfire sucked, but there wasn’t much oxygen in the atmosphere to foster a fire along, so she would take what she could get.

Yes, there was danger here, and she was certainly aware of it. But being an experienced adventurer, she had passed the time in an honored tradition. As she had told the story to Captain Devonis of how she had come to bear the Bracers of Hera, one story had led to the next, and soon all of the officers at the crash site encampment were trading stories of their careers in Starfleet.

“Which was when the delegate explained, ‘That’s no Gorn, that’s my wife!” Captain DeVonis finished, to peals of laughter of all around. The injured Caitian Lieutenant was drifting in an out of sleep while his Captain did her best to keep her mentally engaged with stories and jokes.

"So, Commander." The Turing's mistress asked across the fire, still smiling, but her mind clearly working. "You mentioned what you and your Science Officer hypothesized might have been an attempt at communication from... something here? Or here itself? Some sort of... mathematical regression sequence that you weren't able to follow up on before you crashed? I'm quite curious as to..."

But the human Captain's words were cut off by what might have been the most welcome sound in all the galaxy at the moment, at least to a group of stranded Starfleet officers: the gentle, if slightly skipping, chirrup of Rita's commbadge on the chest of her EVA armor.

“This is Commander Paris, go ahead?” the ancient astronaut replied with a smile.

“This is the Silver Banshee communications network with a long-distance call from the USS Hera. I have Captain Telvan on the line. Do ye accept the charges, mum?” came the rolling cheery brogue of one of the Hera’s more distinctive pilots, whose irreverent sense of humor brought a chuckle to the lips of the time-tossed traveler. While the signal was still crackling and somewhat broken, it was still strong enough to be received, and that was an improvement.

“By all means, Ensign O’Dell, don’t keep the Captain waiting- put her through,” Paris replied, then began speaking as if she had simply assumed that her order was being complied. “Captain, this is Paris. I’m on the surface. Mister Sonak is in a healing trance, as there is a powerful psychic energy output from the planetoid, which I believe may involve the dark crystals that are rather aggressively growing here. Captain DeVonis of the USS Turing and her four surviving shuttlecraft crew are here with us, and we are safe for the moment. What’s our status topside?”

"Telvan here. We've mounted a repair and rescue operation to the Turing and we're using the Banshee and cyclones as comm relays for now. We're going to do our best to evac you all, but in the meantime stay safe try to get as many scans as possible." There was a slight pause as the Trill captain thought of what more she could say. "Don't worry, we'll get you out of there. We might be able to cut through the drain enough to beam out most of you... But we'd only get one shot."

“Counterpoint, captain,” Paris replied, speaking frankly as the pirate queen turned Starfleet captain preferred. “It seems there is significant psychic activity going on down here. Has Yeoman Dedjoy made any progress on figuring out how to communicate with the crystals yet? Because it seems they are quite reactive, and I would hazard a guess to say that we may be encountering a crystalline life form here, possibly a colony or hivemind, maybe just a few million voices shouting, I’m not sure. But if we can communicate with them, maybe we could find out what they are about and convince them to turn it down long enough for us to leave?”

"That's her theory as well, but she hasn't found any patterns to start an analysis off of," Enalia replied. "We don't have enough data yet. If you have some close range scans that you can send us, I'm sure they'd go a long way."

“Such as they are, transmitting now,” Paris replied as she compacted her sensor logs from her EVA armor for the duration of the mission into a packet that could be more readily transmitted. “Plus you should have received my emergency beacon, which had all of the scan data we collected from the Curiosity- which I regret to inform you has been lost, ma’am. See if any of this helps her research along.”

"Curiosity can be replaced. You can't be. Receiving data now." There was a brief pause as the Trill captain watched the daisy-chained comm link relay the scan data, one eyebrow-raising as it unpacked itself at her end. "That's... going to shed a lot of light on things, I think. As for your beacon, we're still looking for it. It went silent right after you did."

"Rita... Stay safe down there, okay? I swear, we'll bring you all home even if I have to go get you myself. Okay?"

“Oh, you know me, Captain, I’ll be fine,” the adventurous astronaut declared. “But we do have some wounded officers down here who would really be excited to get off this ice cream cone, and Captain DeVonis is certainly worried about her ship. I know we’ll be seeing you soon.” The tone was casual, and while she pointed out the wounded, it was clear that Rita Paris had unshakable faith in the crew of the Hera, and in her captain. "How is the Turing mission going?"

You could literally hear the grin on the other end of the comm line as Enalia replied. "You're not supposed to be able to cold start an Oberth's warp reactor but Thex knows a few tricks. In about fifteen minutes, she'll have the Turing up and running with the shield mods and warp capable."

"Well that sounds just about perfect, Captain Telvan," Paris grinned in reply as she expressed her lack of panic. "We'll wait for your next signal, and we'll be ready to move. You'll find us by the bioluminescent beacon the Turing crew set up down here, quite ingenious. Sensor blind I might never have found them otherwise, and it should help you find us, too."

"Starfleet survival skills never cease to amaze," Enalia replied, not wanting to just end the transmission. "Miss O'Dell, if you would be so kind, please continue acting as a relay and monitoring the situation. We'll be up here working things from our side."

"By yuir command, Cap'n, Standin' by!" came the response over the comm, and Paris was bemused to hear the lilting brogue of the diminutive daredevil out there in the experimental craft, testing it under dangerous conditions.

"Not much to contribute from here, Captain, but we'll prep for evac on the surface," Paris reported, then opened the comm channel to Captain DeVonis. "All right Captain, what do you say we get your people up the hill to the beacon so we can get off this crazy planetoid and back to properly studying it. From a distance, with a starship..."

The weary Starship Captain stood up and dusted her Crimson EVA armor off with the kind of smile created by the seeds of hope as she turned towards her own officers. "You heard her, people. Pack up your trash. Let's get ready to go home."

Stepping into the turbolift, the buxom Starship Captain had ordered her Romulan flight chief to come along as they rode to the Hera's Intel Pod. As always, the young Lieutenant Commander had a PaDD in hand and was reviewing all of the relevant data that was available concerning the current mission while she stood next to the taller Trill Captain.

"I've forwarded all of the data to Yeoman Dedjoy in the POD as requested Captain. Considering the information from Commander Paris from the surface of Primordius and the scan data from Dr. Mah on the Turing, it appears that these signals from the crystals are affecting those with any measure of psionic potential. Which I suppose explains the headache I've got." Mnhei'sahe Dox said in a matter of fact tone. While Romulans didn't generally possess psionic abilities, the young pilot had, through both training and circumstance, developed a small amount of the abilities of Vulcan ancestors. "Looking at some of the reports from across the ship, this is a minor issue on a number of decks. Ensign Tathaa, Lieutenant Gonadie, Lieutenant Pacci, and several others have reported mild headaches. Doctor Power is set to administer a theta booster all around that should take care of it for now."

The shorter, red-head was in no way responsible to summarize the data for the Captain and hadn't been ordered to, per se, but the canny Trill knew the young woman well enough to expect such behavior from Dox, who tended to read all the ships reports and keep up on as much information as she could. And as Dox wasn't quite sure why she had been asked to accompany Enalia to the pod, she was possibly overcompensating just a hair.

The spotted woman, however, had known that her Rihannsu Flight Chief would fill her in on anything she would have missed the second they were alone and her bet on that mark was correct as always. "Excellent. I was wondering about that. Make sure that's employed as soon as it's available and if it looks like it's going to take too long, have sickbay come up with a more immediate solution for the bridge crew at the very least."

"Aye." Dox replied, as she pulled up and sent a message to medical that Enalia could see, spying a glance at Dox's Padd, that the young officer had already written to almost exactly what Enalia had just specified in anticipation.

"As for that data Rita and the Turing away team sent..." Enalia lightly crossed her arms under her prodigious bosom and leaned against the turbolift wall, a concerned look on her face. "I assume there's an attempt at communication in there but I'm not science-savvy like some augmented people. My mother sprang for the math and tactical package, not the 'remember all the science and medical knowledge you want' package so if you understand more than I do, please..."

Enalia didn't like to refer to it, but at least in private with those she felt closest to, she was candid about the genetic modifications that her mother, a pirate queen, had done to her and her now-deceased sister. there was a lot of baggage with that, but after many horrific events, the sole survivors of her family were now her, her holographic wife, and her daughter who was a heavily augmented clone of her mother with genetic data from the model of her wife used to prevent clone decay.

To say that Captain Telvan's life had been stressful was an understatement. However, on the USS Hera, this was normal.

Of course, Mnhei'sahe was no stranger to genetic modification of family drama, having undergone her own share throughout her life and could relate to the Captain easily enough in this regard as she simply nodded, with a light chuckle. "My upbringing was either... piloting or punching, so I'm likely not any more qualified to interpret this. But looking at the report from Commander Sonak and Commander Paris, it looks like they observed a repeating mathematical regression in the signals that they got whenever they tried scanning that thing. I might not have been the most attentive student at the academy, but mathematics is generally considered a universal language. A regression of numbers in a pattern indicates at least the possibility of an intelligence that might have been attempting to see if we understood what it was saying."

"English or Romulan, you hold up on finger on one hand and two on the other, and I hold up three fingers in reply, we just communicated." Dox said with a slight smile as she checked her PaDD again. "Medical confirms. Doctor Power will be sending nurses to the bridge, engineering and all essential sections with theta boosters based n Doctor Mah's data."

"Also, it looks like my mother is in transit to the POD now. Yeoman Dedjoy just sent a request for her to come up to consult. I know they seem to like brainstorming on patterns and the like, so if there is a message or a language in this signal... they'll find it." Dox concluded as the turbo lift slowed to a stop at the pod and the doors opened.

"They make a good pair. Hell, your mother has an amazing number of friends onboard if Maru is to be believed." Enalia paused a moment, thinking as she stood in the doorway of the turbolift. "I don't doubt that this is a means of communication... But that means I'll need to be in the pod to act as a diplomat." She then gently rested a hand on Dox's arm. "And therefore I'll need you on the bridge. You're the last senior officer aboard other than Sam and Mona. She's no longer cleared for bridge duty by medical and he's not trained for the big chair."

Swallowing, Dox's already fast Romulan pulse jumped slightly and some of the color drained from her face for just a second at the idea. She had manned the bridge a few times, but never during an actual mission and she realized this was why Enalia wanted her to accompany her on the lift. With the lightest of stutters, Dox replied. "Uh... A... Aye, Captain. Aye. I'll... do my best."

"Excellent. Don't think about the fact that everyone's lives are in your hands... Because as a pilot they already are. It's just that now the chair is a bit bigger and a bit more central to the action and you have to do a lot more of that delegation thing we talked about on the holodeck, ok?" With a squeeze of Dox's arm and a reassuring smile, Enalia stepped out of the turbolift. "I believe in you so believe in yourself."

And with that, the turbolift doors closed and Mnhei'sahe stood alone in the small chamber as she muttered to herself, "Imirrhlhhse."

=^=Please restate destination.=^= the computer replied to the Lieutenant Commander's Romulan curse, to which Dox rolled her eyes and sighed. "Very funny. Bridge, please "

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

Back in the POD, Enalia was moving with intention as she came to the door to Yeoman Ila Dedjoy's lab.

Sighing, Enalia punched in her access code and wondered just how bad the lab had gotten since she'd given it to the doll eyed woman. On the plus side, Ila'd produced results where none were expected. On the downside, there were times she needed her Yeoman and she was squirreled away in here for days.

As the door opened and she stepped in, it seemed that Ila was so engrossed in the new data, she barely even noticed that she had come in. This was one of the things she was afraid of. The Illaran threw herself into her work to the exclusion of almost all else and before she became an android often forgot to eat. Now that she barely needed to eat anything...

"I take it the new data is helpful?" Enalia asked, wondering if Ila would fill her in on why or just agree.

"Mmhmm, very much so, ma'am. Thank you." Ila didn't even blink as she organized the data. "We needed a pattern and with this... And this... We have it and now we can start trying to communicate."

From the corridor, the door hissed open again and the former Tal'Shiar agent and new ship's nanny, Jaeih Dox stepped in holding a plate of tuna pate and crackers and a wry smirk on her face. "Greetings, Captain. Miss Dedjoy. Lucky."

As she stepped in, she placed the plate in front of Dedjoy and cricked an eyebrow. "You still occasionally require this form your systems maintenance, my dear. Eat." Then she turned to Enalia, "I've been reviewing this as well since Miss Dedjoy sent me the file. There is certainly a mathematical pattern happening here. The pattern is familiar, but I cannot yet place it."

"Harmonic resonance of Talosian crystalline structures," Ila replied almost immediately. "Remember the data I sent you on the black crystals when we first met? The resonance was similar to how I developed the data storage and retrieval systems for them."

"Yes, of course." Jaieh said shaking her head lightly. "Thank you, my dear."

With the mention of Talos IV, the color drained away from Enalia's face as she looked between the other two women. "Talosian crystalline structures? Excuse me?"

"As I recall from the black crystals, they possess multi-fractal levels of folded data processing for near infinite storage." Jaeih said rubbing her chin, not paying much attention to the mention of Talos. "Can we overlay the signal from the object on the map of your crystal processing paths? Perhaps that will restructure the order of information into something more understandable?"

"Of course," Ila replied, pulling up the latest scans on the holo-table and overlaying the known crystal processing resonances on top of it. They were similar but the signals from Primordius were far more complex. "There's about a fourteen percent match. If we work in the data from the away teams... add in an evolutionary complexity factor..."

After another moment of data integration, Ila was able to boost that match to almost sixty percent.

"Oh, now that's interesting. Look at that cluster, Ila." Jaeih pointed to the display. "In grid 7-x, 3 layers deep. That's a resonance frequency that repeats in successive order. And it repeats... here... here... and HERE. Are the sequences before and after those part of the sequence? It almost resembles gamma radiation bursts from stellar matter."

"Excuse me, but can we go back to Talosian crystalline structures a moment?" Enalia demanded, almost petulantly, getting the attention of both women. "Visiting Talos IV still has the death penalty, you know."

The doll faced woman just blinked at her captain for a few seconds before replying. "That's... Not entirely true. Besides, just because something is forbidden doesn't mean you can't study it."

The look of exasperation on the Trill woman's face was priceless. "That's exactly what forbidden means. That's the literal definition."

Interjecting to hopefully difuse the situation that was beginning to get tense, Jaeih raised a finger and leaned in slightly, "If I may, Captain. I asked Miss Dedjoy a similar question regarding the situation when we first discussed this crystal structural function and as I understand it, Tallosian Crystals were procured by her people several generations past for study prior to the ban and prior to their Discovery by the Federation. Miss Dedjoy studied their structure in her youth in University."

"Now, with those memories of that study digitized, she's simply able to recall it in exacting detail. But no violations occurred to secure the information" the clever former spy rationalized.

The Trill woman took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "Ok... I guess there are still a lot of surprises in the crew left to learn. Carry on then."

Pursing her lips and looking over to Dedjoy, Jaeih bit her lip and chose not to comment on Enalia's comment which, considering the literal mountains of secrets in her own past, would truly derail the topic. "Indeed. And in this case, it provides us with significant amounts of existing data to compare to our research here."

"Now, Ila, dear. That gamma burst pattern. Are there other patterns in here you recognize from the EM spectrum? Is this pattern... light-based?" Jaeih asked, bringing the topic back around. "The crystals down there ARE absorbing and refracting light, after all."

If Ila could furrow her brow, she'd have done so. Instead, she nibbled on one of the crackers and tuna pate that Jaeih had brought for her. "Light-based is subjective... If we broaden the spectrum to..." After a moment more of work at the controls, Ila was able to include a wide range of the EM light spectrum. "And now we have an eighty-seven percent matchup. There are coherent patterns across all EM bands from the normal visible ranges to just under the subspace bands."

"Fascinating." Jaeih said, leaning in further. Do we have enough to extrapolate any viable information? Perhaps if we use the holographic display to project the message, perhaps a visual replay might reveal something that we might be able to interpret."

The android Illaran stared at the display for several long moments, moving back and forth and tapping at the controls curiously before she pulled up a second and third display. The second one was of a decidedly complex brain map. The third one was similar... but with fuzzy edges, as if it were composed of millions of brainwaves.

"I know what we're looking at now. And how to communicate with it," Ila declared in a subdued voice.

"This..." she began, pointing to the first brain map she had pulled up. "Is a map of my consciousness from when I... Well, when I died."

This..." She then pointed to the vastly more complex one next to it yet clearly resembled the other. "I just extrapolated this brain map from all the signals flying around Primordius. Life evolved down there and it used my mind as a basis for... Well, it seems they're a form of hive mind, from the looks of this. My knowledge isn't there, but my curiosity, most of my personality, dedication to... Yeah..."

Ila ran a few more quick calculations in her head, counting on her fingers of all things. "Couple that with the black crystals grown from neutronium and that would re-tune them to operate similar to the Talos crystals... They're trying to reach out and communicate via theta waves subconsciously and these other waves are their conscious thoughts."

"Which means the repeating math patterns..." A sudden realization came to the Yeoman, her eyes widening even more. "That's like a lymphocyte flag."

Looking at Enalia, Jaeih was now just as confused. "Lymphocyte? I'm afraid that is beyond me, my dear. But... you're saying these crystals' minds are... based on your own?"

"This one I know," Enalia replied with a bit of a grin. "Lymphocytes are the white blood cells most races have in the... Wait... That means whatever is down there is treating us like an infection." Her grin quickly faded when she realized just how much danger the away team really was in now that she knew that.

"Exactly right on both counts." Ila nodded and cleared the displays, starting work on a new communications display. "Which means we're going to need a massive, glowing array that can talk across a really wide band in order to even begin to communicate. The only array we have like that aboard the Hera..."

"...are the main sensor grids on the pod." Enalia finished as she realized what kind of program her mad scientist of a Yeoman was building.

"The pod? THIS pod?" Jaeih commented as she thought about what was said. But the intel expert had spent more than enough time on the ship to know it's capabilities. "Yes, the sensor grids are more than sufficient in displaying the full EM spectrum and beyond. But would we not have to get significantly closer, Captain? Would that not put the Hera in the risk of succumbing to the effects of the signal, possibly before we have a chance to respond properly?"

"We would need to be within... Three hundred kilometers," Ila clarified casually, continuing her programming.

The Trill captain furrowed her brow, weighing her options and considering the implications of what she was about to say. "Yeah, there's no way we're taking the Hera that close. We'll have to separate the pod. I'll need a volunteer command crew for it."

"I may not be Starfleet, Captain. But I am a member of this ship regardless." Jaeih said, standing up a little more straight. "And there are crewmembers in peril that we must return to safety. You have my services however you require them, and I doubt there are any that would not say the same upon this ship. What must we do to prepare?" Jaeih looked both at Enalia and Ila, eyebrow raised.

"We reconvene to the pod bridge and find two or three more like-minded people," Ila replied as she finished up with her initial program. "I can run the Operations and communications station."

"I can handle piloting and C&C," chimed in Enalia, looking towards Jaeih. "Do you prefer tactical, science, or engineering?"

"As I've been working with Miss Dedjoy and am familiar with the specifics of the work we've been doing here, I will likely be most useful at either science or engineering. Both, if necessary." Jaeih said confidently. "However, as Commander sh'Zorthi is on the Turing, I think Ensign Gavarus can fill the need of an engineer for this mission."

The spotted woman nodded solemnly as she called the bridge. "Telvan to the bridge. Commander Dox, please prepare for pod separation. We'll be taking it and a volunteer crew to within three hundred kilometers of the surface. Also, please see if Ensign Gavarus would be willing to volunteer for the engineering position. We'll also need someone for tactical."

Sitting in the command chair of the bridge, Dox's hand ran over the control panel of the seat as she replied, still anxious but overriding that in the need of the moment."Aye, Captain. Initializing for separation sequence now. I'm contacting Ensign Gavarus now and would recommend Petty Officer Jablonski for Tactical. She's fully rated on the systems and is extremely sharp in a crisis scenario."

"Excellent. We'll leave control of the separation sequence to you. We're en route to the pod bridge now." As Enalia spoke, she was leading the other two back to the turbolift and to the small command center on the pod. "We've only ever used this for training before so... Let's hope everything actually works right..."

From the Opps chair, the young human Ensign Cance turned to the main chair. "Lieutenant Commander Dox, all decks reporting ready for main Pod separation."

"Thank you, Ensign." Dox nodded, punching some more commands into the chair console. "Captain, we're ready for separation on your order. Messages from Ensign Gavarus and Petty Officer Jablonski. On your approval, they will be on their way."

"Send them up. We'll be ready to start the sequence when they arrive." Taking the forward helm seat and looking over the almost eighty-year-old controls, she started tapping in the command overrides to redirect the pod systems under the control of the small nerve center. "I hope I remember how to fly this thing..."

"Aye, Captain. They're on their way." Dox said from the bridge as the channel closed. Stepping over to the science station, Jaeih logged in and called up all the mission data she needed as she allowed the slightest of wry grins to crack her patrician facade at the sound of her daughter giving orders over the comm from the bridge. It was a fleeting instant of obvious maternal pride, but one that didn't escape Enalia's glance as Jaeih spoke. "Science station ready, Captain."

Ila was next to report in. "Operations and communications online, Captain. Isolating the remainder of our data systems now. Fusion reactors spinning up. We should be ready to switch to our own power when Ensign Gavarus arrives."

"Excellent. What passes for engines are coming online now. We should be able to maintain quarter impulse easily enough." Enalia ran through the startup sequence once more just to make sure they weren't missing anything... Then turned in her seat suddenly, staring at something on the starboard wall. "Ok... Nameplate was replaced and the gelato machine was repaired. Thank goodness."

Shaking her head lightly, Jaeih commented. "Well, it is good that the nameplate is correct. It is considered quite the curse to go into a mission on a ship with a false name." As she spoke, the doors hissed open and the two-meter tall Tellarite, Briaar Gavarus and the even TALLER human security officer, Ethel Jablonski entered the room. "And if we survive this, I look forward to sampling the... gelato."

"Uh... the L-C said you needed an engineer to volunteer to man the POD. Can this thing really fly on its own?" The portly porcine said, a little nervously. "How old is this thing? Ooh, a gelato machine."

"About eighty years, give or take?" Enalia winked at Jaeih as she worked over the old helm systems. "In theory she can do half impulse. Realistically? Whatever you can give me. We've got four torpedo tubes, forty photons, two phaser banks, more sensors than most starbases... And no living quarters. If you get hurt, a Defiant-class is better prepared to care for you."

"As for the gelato machine..." Enalia pointed to the wayward device that was built into every Starfleet bridge. "That's a Starfleet tradition of luck that's been passed down since... Well... Who knows now... I think it might have been on the first Starfleet vessels."

"How have I missed that?" Gavarus muttered as she hoofed over to the engineering station, looking over the antiquated interface with a light grin. "Oh sweet, this is pretty much just like an old X-90p system. I used to take stuff like this apart and put it back together as a little kid. Okay... so... interface is primed and the fusion intermix is at 68 percent and rising. NIIIICCCE, this'll kill us all if it leaks. Better make sure it don't, I guess."

"So what're we shootin' at, eh?" the massive and broad security officer asked cheerfully as she attempted to strap herself into the gunner's seat, only to find that the straps did not let out sufficiently for a crewman of her mass, so instead the just perched on the relatively tiny chair. Tapping away at the controls, the tactical schematic of the pod came online, as targeting systems began autotargeting and tracking every celestial object in their vicinity. "So we're really gonna do this here? Separate from the rest of the ship and all?"

"With luck we won't be shooting anything. However, with the main sensor grid acting as a comm system, you'll be using the tactical sensors as the main sensors. We'll also need you to keep a finger on the trigger with probes and torpedoes, just in case. And Gavarus, you're on the transporters, if we need them." With a few more taps at her console, Enalia felt they were ready. "Enalia to Dox, I think we're ready up here. Mind giving us a countdown?"

"Hot dog, the big chair, you betcha! Thanks L-C!" the towering titan of Hera's honor guard nodded in excitement, setting about for the task at hand. It was the bridge duty protocol that Petty Officer Second Class Ethel Jablonski had trained for, but never served a shift of duty. Until today, in the unique opportunity to do the job on a detaching intel pod, that had once perched atop the flagship of Section 31.

"Hera be thanked and praised," Jablonski offered as she grinned ear to ear, merrily preparing for a story she'd tell her grandkids.

From the bridge, Dox had been hard at work when the Captain's call came in. "Thank you, ensign. Stand by." She said to an officer before replying. "Aye Captain. Also, I've had Ensign MacNielle prep the Getaway Driver for immediate transport to Commander Paris' position in the event that signal stops. Transferring frequency and control of transport to the POD bridge now."

Both women knew how dangerous beaming Rita Paris could be for the frequently time-tossed first officer, and this kind of scenario was exactly why Dox had planned for the creation of the small, fast personal escape craft in question and Enalia knew it all too well.

"Excellent thinking. I was wondering about that," Enalia replied with another wink to Jaeih.

To Be Continued...

Over the comm, the red-headed Romulan's voice began again. "Pod separation sequence ready. Counting down from my mark, Ensign Cance... and mark!"

From the Opps position, the even younger officer began the countdown. "10... 9... 8... 7... 6... 5... 4... 3... 2... 1."

Across the ship, there was a shudder as locking clamps disengaged and the sound of micro-particles of stellar debris bounced harmlessly away from the connecting pylon that kept the massive pod of the U.S.S. Hera in place. As they did, directional thrusters automatically pushed the triangular-shaped attachment slowly and gently away as those same clamps sealed back up. From the bridge of the now separate ship, Dox's voice came again. "Separation complete, Captain. Vessel is floating free and under your control. We have a tractor lock on you and Transporter room three is locked on to every person on there."

"Flight controls are stabilized but... Flight sensors just went offline. Restarting them now." As the experienced pirate queen furiously worked at the helm, she tried several tricks before both half her panels and the viewscreen came back to life. "And we can see again. Engaging maneuvering thrusters... one hundred meters... two hundred... three... five... Hera, we have cleared you and are engaging impulse drive."

"Okay... that's not good. On it." Gavarus said as she ran over and opened the panel under the Captain.

As the small engine that passed for impulse fired up, the saucer of the Hera slowly moved out from under the view on the small screen at the front of the pod bridge until it completely vanished. "Well now to go talk to this thing and ask it to play nice."

Popping her porcine puss up in front of Enalia's station, Gavarus gave her Captain a quick thumbs-up as she made her way back to the engineering station. "Gotcha covered, Cap. Looks like the console had some loose conduits. Should be fixed."

"No wonder we used this bridge for training. Thanks, Briaar. Bringing us about and setting us on course for that big gaping maw at the front of the cone." Settling in for the ride, Enalia set them on their course. "Ethel, we'll need targeting info for our away team. Ila, we'll need the array warmed up before we get there. Briaar, make sure we've got enough power for that thing. Jaeih, if you would be so kind as to monitor for those readings they reported? We're a lot bigger than a shuttle so I'm betting they're going to notice us a lot sooner."

"Uhhh, Captain? Sensors say there's a whole lotta neutronium out there, and inside the cone thingy is pretty much a sensor dead zone. So, uh, yannow, I kinda can't target doodly doo in there, ma'am." The petty officer wasn't intimidated to report the bad news to the Captain- this was the job. The big chair needed the facts, and they provided them, all parts of a team. Which made the security officer happy to be a part of, in the here and now.

"That's fine. When we're in position, look for glowing blue mushrooms or something as well as Rita's suit and you'll find them. For now make sure I don't run into our other ships or anything else in the system," Enalia replied, slightly refreshed by Ethel's candor.

From the engineering station, Briaar was working three panels at once to reroute power. "Yeesh, Captain. Please let me come in here and update some of this crap when we're done and... ya' know... pending we don't all die. Okay. Power rerouted for the array, but nobody order a gelato for a while, k?"

Shaking her hand lightly, Jaeih was also hard at work monitoring her station as ordered. "Captain, you are eminently correct. Signal strength from that thing has increased 22 point 3 percent. It's a perfect match for Miss Dedjoy's pattern."

"Like I said, Captain. Somehow they based their hive mind on my mind. It's probably a holdover of the genesis energy, but I'd have to..." Before Ila got to rambling, Enalia gave her a look and she got to the point. "But anyway, the upper sensor platforms are ready to transmit at your command. I plan on repeating that pattern then sending out the usual Federation 'we come in peace' greeting, if you think that's a good start."

The Trill woman nodded. "Yeah, I'll leave the specifics up to you. The main thing is that they know that in the great cosmos, we too are explorers and filled with curiosity."

Suddenly, the pod shuddered a bit as the signal from the planetoid increased in intensity. Warning lights at the helm and science stations lit up as thrusters flickered slightly and the enhanced shielding that protected them from complete power drain were, themselves, drained somewhat.

Back on the Hera, the mighty Nebula-Class Starship also shuddered as their tractor beam link with the pod transferred some of that turbulence to them. From the helm, Ensign Harnell called back to Dox in the command chair. "Shearing force coming from the tractor beam, Commander."

Clutching the arms of the chair she didn't want to be sitting in, the young Romulan nevertheless gave her orders. "Compensate. Increase power by 5 percent to inertial dampeners and use maneuvering thrusters to keep us steady. It's just turbulence, Mr. Harnell. You can ride with it."

Calling over to Opps, the red-headed pilot who found herself in command kept her voice as calm and supportive as she could, trying to picture how Enalia or Rita would do it. "Mr. Cance, Increase power to the tractor beam and keep us tethered at all costs. Reroute from secondary systems if you need to."

Back on the pod, Jaeih called forward from the Science station. "The entities have increased the power of their signals, Captain. Shields are at 83 percent and fluctuating by plus or minus 5 percent with each wave. I'm passing the signal pattern to Yeoman Dedjoy for translation."

"Got it! beginning our reply now but at this distance..." Ila began, but after just a moment, it was obvious that the reply had been received, at least to an extent. The shuddering subsided at least a little, though it didn't completely relent. "They got about sixty percent of the message before power levels dropped too low. Ensign Gavarus, can you do something about that?"

"Shii.... uh... yeah. Yeah." Gavarus replied, cutting herself off before she cursed on the bridge of the pod in front of the Captain as she continued to mutter to herself as the thick, three-fingered hands raced across her console. "Lemme see... we got... n' if I c'n reroute from... GOT IT!"

"Okay, I can reroute power from secondary systems. Replicators, lights and life support in the unoccupied chambers. Main lights and partial gravity. And I'm boosting the gain by running a conversion from the shields to feedback to the fusion drive so we can recycle some of that energy they're hitting us with! BOOYAH!" The portly porcine pumped her fist in the air with a grin as the white overhead lights switched to the dimmer, red emergency lights and everyone felt just a little lighter in their seats. "Got you 43 percent more juice and climbing."

"Thanks. Transmitting again," replied the doll-faced Illaran as she slapped her console. On the outside of the pod, the top was facing the open cone of the planet and the large pallet sensors started to glow a dull orange as they transmitted the message. This time, the shuddering ceased altogether and a new transmission came from the planet.

"Captain... They're responding. They understood us!" An honest and heartfelt grin was spread across Ila's face as she translated it. "They seem to be wary... and they want us to identify ourselves... and they've identified themselves... and there's so much more..."

The Trill captain chuckled in relief that they could at least come this far. "Ok, let's at least start with letting them know who we are, ok? That we represent the United Federation of Planets. A galaxy spanning entity of diplomacy and exploration, or however you think it would be best to tell them. The way you described them, I'm not sure they're ready to understand how we live yet."

"I'm running that through the matrix and transmitting it now," Ila replied, hoping the message was well received.

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

On the surface of the planetoid, the crystals all began to hum, vibrating in harmonic waves. Commander Rita Paris grabbed her unconscious husband to shield him with her body in case things went poorly. “Huddle up, stay close and stay calm, people! Not sure what’s happening but let’s not assume it’s bad!”

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

Meanwhile, on the bridge of the Intel pod, the holographic representation of the harmonic energy output of the crystalline life forms on the planet were coming in line with the harmonic onscreen, and the universal translator was now kicking in. When the voice came over the speakers, it carried an echo like a harmony, but of perhaps millions of voices. The humming seemed to translate to elongated syllables

“Weeee seek the core. We seek to understand. We seek to grow. Weeeee seek the light. Wouuuuuuld you assist ussss or woooooould you destroy uuuuuus?”

With a look and a raised eyebrow from Enalia, Ila just shrugged and whispered. "I patched it through the translation matrix and it came back with something audible. They're learning. Talk to them."

Not one to pass up a good thing, The spotted woman nodded and turned back to the viewscreen which still showed the way too close gaping maw of the conical planet. "We seek understanding as well. If there is some way that we are able to assist you, we would do so. That is the nature of why we seek out new life. To learn and to help if it is needed. The first of our people to try to contact you... They were not received well, so we were worried communication was not possible."

“Curiosity taught us muuuuch,” the wavering chorus of voices replied in that odd echoing harmony. “The mindsszzzz we have touched have not been compatible. We could not make oursssselves understoooood. But now we understaaaaaand. We seek the core- can you help usssszz?”

"First we need to understand what you mean by the core. Once we understand, we will gladly help." Enalia paused a moment to bring the conversation around to the topic that the entity had touched upon. "As for trying to touch our minds directly, yours is far too vast and has driven many of ours to breaking. We ask that you refrain from that. We ask that you also refrain from siphoning our energy so that we may help you and continue learning about each other."

From the science station, Jaeih's eyebrow cricked slightly. "Captain... the signal. Its frequency is narrowing. The power intensity is reducing across the full spectrum. They're still communicating, but it appears they're doing so more... directly. The signal appears to be directly aimed at us now."

"Need mooooooore light... get to the core, will reflect..."

On the surface, earthquakes began rumbling the surface, and Rita Paris desperately cast about for something, anything to make a plan out of, to get them out of here. Rising unsteadily to her feet, she engaged the EVA armor's internal gyros to assist, and she picked up Sonak in both arms, in a 'princess' carry. All of these people up on this hill, she had brought them hope and the promise of rescue, and now it looked like they were going to die down here.

But damned if she would go out without trying everything. If this didn't work, her next idea wasn't such a good one, and she knew the Kolinahr wouldn't approve. But damned if she would let them both die out here. One more try, because she believed in the crew, and in Starfleet, more than she believed in just about anything. Well, other than Sonak. Tapping her comms, she boosted the signal, diverting power to her transmitter to try one more time.

"Oh hey, Captain!" Jablonski piped up, before feeding the comm signal through the local speakers in the pod.

"... is Paris- the interior surface feels like it's breaking up, we need evac immediately! Hera, do you copy?"

From the Hera, Dox called over to the Pod, controlled tension in her voice. "Pod, we cannot get a lock on them to beam out or the Getaway Driver in. There's too much interference still. And with that signal still active, any rescue craft would lose power and crash as well."

"Roger that, Hera," Enalia replied, keeping her focus on the entity or entities. Glancing over at Jaeih's console for a moment, she finally had a bit better of an understanding of what they meant by the core. "You're trying to dig to the very heart of the planet, aren't you? The very core? To create a giant reflector for the sun's light, right? We can definitely help with that."

"However, we don't want to harm you in the process," Enalia added. "Plus, we have people inside as well that we need to first rescue as well."

"Shuttlecraft 2. Captain Marnia DeVoooooonis. Flight officer Ensign Shinnnnnng. Exooooooobotanist Doctor Garcia. Geeeeeooooologist Ka’Tang. Science Chief S’aked. Exobioooooologist Flures. Petty Officer Nunes. Petty Officer Klobuncher. Petty Offffffficer V'rass. Curiosity. Commander Paris. Lieutenant Commander Sonaaaak. These are your people."

On the surface of the planet, crystal protrusions retracted as three Security officers found themselves de-crystallized, the crystalline cocoons they had been trapped in withdrawing to free them once more, their EVA suits powering back up as if recharged. Seeing them, Captain DeVonis called for them, and the trio of restored security officers, sans phasers, scrambled toward the bioluminescent beacon, which was flashing much faster and more frequently now.

"Captain, I just picked up a flash on the planet's surface on a visual scan," Jablonski reported. "Sensors still can't see squat inside that thing, but... I can't triangulate the Commander's position from her transmission, but it looks a whole lot like it's coming from that flash down there, doncha know... heya, there it is again! I think maybe we got their position, even sensor blind..."

From the Hera, Dox had been monitoring everything and was ready to move with the information provided. Tapping the comm button to the POD, the young Romulan woman replied, transmitting to both the POD and Commander Paris on the surface, making a decision in the moment and praying to Al'thindor that it was the right thing to do. "Captain. With that triangulation, we're beaming the Getaway Driver to Commander Paris' position now. The neutronium shell is still impeding our scans, but that signal is reduced in strength enough that our support craft should function now. Launching a rescue shuttle on autopilot to rendezvous at the coordinates we're beaming the Cyclone to now."

"Recommend letting our new friends know what we're doing is to help our people." The anxious young pilot in the proverbial 'big chair' added.

"Roger that. Let me know when you have everyone aboard," Enalia wasn't used to being in the big chair herself like this, but the diplomatic position she was in, making first contact with a completely new type of life form... she was the only one that was even remotely certified, let alone trained so this was where she had to be. Nodding to Ila again, she continued talking to the entity again. "We thank you for your consideration. While we retrieve our people and prepare... Do you have a name? Names?" She figured some small talk to better understand them herself wouldn't hurt.

“We arrrrrre Dead Joy, Captain Enalia Telvan,” the crystals explained back, as if that simple statement was all-encompassing, and did not raise more questions than it answered.

Not only did the entity have the name of the person's mind that the whole system was built on thanks to all the Genesis energy, but it knew her name as well? The unanswered questions were definitely growing as Enalia turned to Ila with a curious look. Ila, for her part, just gave a surprised look in return. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Dead Joy."

Tapping her comm panel, Dox sent a message to Ensign O'Dell, who was still hovering at the midway point between the Hera and the opening of Primordious in the Silver Banshee, using that craft to act as a communications booster. "Ensign O'Dell. Shuttlecraft 9 is on its way into that thing to pick up those survivors. It's unmanned and on autopilot. Once it's in range, I'm slaving it controls to you. Bring our people home."

“Wot? Aye mum, will do. S’long as I’ve got a signal and I’m nae flyin blind, we should be sweet as honey.” Forgetting to cut the feed to her mic, the short spitfire muttered, “Or I’ll make a hella mess on the surface and be getting court-martialed in the mornin’…”

On the bridge of the Hera, Dox turned to the engineering station and the young officer on duty, as she raised an eyebrow and put on the best approximation of a 'Rita Paris' smile she could manage. "Lieutenant Founton, make sure Ensign O'Dell has all the signal strength you can give her. Reroute all power from weapons and, if necessary, reduce our own shields. That signal isn't hitting us anymore, so make sure that the tractor beam on the POD and communications are our highest priorities."
“Aye aye, ma’am,” came the reply from Founton.

A few seconds later, a sleek, Type 9a shuttlecraft zipped into the sensor range of the Silver Banshee, on its way towards the gaping maw of the former planet killer.

“Aye, Shuttlecraft Barbosa joost passed me position,” O’Dell reported, “and I’m bringin her down. So far signal is holding and steady as she goes, mum.”

Within the cone of Primordious, ten meters behind Commander Paris' position, where she and the survivors of the Turing's landing party were collected, there was a shimmering flutter of silver/blue lights that made a resonant hum, different in tone from the humming all about them. The process took about 8 seconds, in total, with the process seeming to still be pushing through some degree of interference. But using the signals from the collected EVA suits as makeshift transport enhancers, after a moment the golden plated Getaway Driver appeared and hovered in place as it's canopy slowly opened.

“Well well well, there’s my ride,” Rita grinned as she carried Sonak over to the golden spacecraft, picking her way carefully as the ground continued to shake and rattle beneath her feet. Easing the injured Kolinahr into the back seat, Paris pointed at the Caitian crew member. “I’m not leaving any of you behind. Lieutenant Flures, please get in the pilot’s seat. You’re the most severely injured, so you two are getting out of here, now. That’s an order.”

The Caitian navigator looked to his captain for confirmation, but she had no argument and nodded her assent to the order. Turning to regard Paris, Captain DeVonis questioned the unusual officer. “Commander, given that this looks a lot like your own personal landing craft, are you sure about this?”

“I told you Captain, I’m not leaving your people here. Damned if I’ll run off to safety at the first possibility and leave you and your people down here. Flures? That’s the most precious cargo in the universe sitting behind you… get him home safely for me, alright?”

With a nod, the Caitian officer nodded. “Aye aye, sir. I’ll get him home for you.”

But neither officer needed to wait long, as the shuttlecraft from the Hera hove into view overhead, heading towards the shimmering, crystal beacon. It was shuddering slightly from turbulence, but it's power appeared to be remaining steady as it lowered itself gently and safely near the landing party's position.

“As delightful as this vacation garden spot may be, please move in an orderly fashion an’ board the bus, leaving in 30 seconds. Please dinna bring aboard any perishable or contraband items, keep yuir arms and legs inside the ride at all times, and thankye for flyin’ Hera airlines!” the cheery brogue of the picayune pilot came through their comms, the signal boosted from the shuttlecraft. As Paris and Captain DeVonis hustled personnel into the craft, the shuddering was beginning to subside, replaced by a sudden and eerie stillness.

“Calm before the storm,” Paris muttered. “”Okay, everyone aboard? Captain, that includes you ma’am. All righty then,” the curvaceous commander buttoned up the hatch of the shuttlecraft, even as Captain DeVonic was prepping for takeoff, although to her surprise, as soon as the hatch was secure, the shuttlecraft began to move, gliding away from the planetoid at a surprising speed.

“Please note the locations of the emergency exits and dinna use them, as we are noow in flight, and en route to safety!” came the chirpy cheerful brogue of the tiny test pilot who was currently remote piloting the craft.

“Are all of you people so… distinct?” Captain DeVonis asked, to whit Paris smiled indulgently.

“Afraid so, Captain. The Hera is a very unique starship, to be sure…”

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

After a few more moments of maneuvering the pod, Enalia sighed and locked their position. "Okay Ethel, I've positioned us with as clear a shot as possible directly into the core. They should be lighting up a beacon or something to show us where they need to fire those phasers as surgically as possible. Jaeih, do you see anything yet?"

“I gotcha all targeted and lined up, Captain. I’ve slaved the controls to your chair, so you’ve got your firing resolutions and the whole kit and kaboodle. Just hit the button when you want the phasers to fire, ma’am,” Jablonski cheerfully replied from the tactical station, anticipating that the Captain might want to do this one personally.

From the science station, Jaeih was monitoring everything as closely as she could. "The shuttle and the Cyclone are there, but haven't evacuated yet. As soon as they are clear, we should be able to act. No sign of a new beacon just yet. I suspect that our new... friends... are also waiting for the landing party to be clear."

As the two vessels cleared the planet’s gravity well, the green light came up on Jaeih’s board as the old intel agent grinned, "Captain. The Barbosa and the Getaway Driver are cleared of the planetoid. You are clear."

"Then let's be as surgical about this as possible," Enalia said as she pressed the firing control, sending out two arcing lances of orange energy from the small phaser banks on the top of the pod. It quickly burned into the surface of the area that the entity had marked and vaporized the material, making quick work of the digging. Soon, they had hit solid neutronium and stray phaser energy was starting to be absorbed and reflected outward so the Trill captain released her hold on the phasers, revealing the exposed core of Primordius.

"And there it is..." the pirate queen of the Hera announced in awe. "Ethel and Ila, if you would be so kind as to reconfigure a communications probe and launch it so that it lands gently just on the lip of the cone so that we have a more permanent means of communicating with our new friend?"

The doll-faced Illaran got to work immediately, the reconfiguration only taking a few moments before she was done. "Probe is configured and is ready to be loaded."

“Launching on your command, Captain,” Jablonski cheerfully reported from tactical.

"Launch," Enalia ordered. As she watched the probe streak slowly towards the surface of the planet and land, she sighed in relief. "Dead Joy, if you'll excuse us, we've sent you a communications probe to better communicate with our kind. We'd like to head back to our main ship and reconnect. It has been an honor and a privilege, but before we go, is there anything else we are able to help with?"

As the phasers bored through the mantle of the planet to expose the Neutronium surface of Primordius’ original body, crystals were already moving in, growing at a surprisingly rapid rate to cover the shaft, even as they worked to consume the bedrock around the shaft the phasers had bored. The sunlight, shining into the shaft, was reflecting and refracting through the crystalline lifeforms, bringing about a slight glow in the may of Primordius, which would grow over time to create a magnificently beautiful geode in space.

“Warrrrrrm…. So much energy. Now we willlll be able to grow and evolve, toooooo achieve our potential and earrrrrn a name…” the crystalline hive mind explained.

With yet more surprise, the Trill woman turned to Ila once more, who had tears of understanding in her eyes. "I had my sister in my mind when I directed the Genesis energy... That's why... Dead Joy... If I may, in honor of my sister, I would grant you the name that she one day hoped to earn. Sia. It means ‘hope’ in my people's tongue. Will you accept this?"

There was murmur on the other end, as the name echoed in the speakers, as if the life form were considering it by echoing it between the thousands of individual voices that comprised the whole. When they finished debating it to themselves, they once again spoke in one voice, of still filled with echoes and strange harmonics.

“Sia… we are Sia.”

"Congratulations, Sia. Today is a big day for you. We look forward to further communications with you." With a nod to Ila, Enalia engaged the pod's impulse engines and pulled back from the planet, heading back to the Hera. "Hera Pod to Hera Bridge. Requesting permission to dock. Oh, and see if you can get a lock on the remains of Curiosity and beam up the remains?"

From over the comm system, Dox's voice came, sounding significantly lighter. "Permission granted, Pod. Docking sequence is primed and ready. Helm control can take over for you from here at your mark. As for the Curiosity and the Turing's shuttle, the communication beacon is giving us much clearer telemetry on the inside of Primor... of Sia... and we're clearing bay two for the debris now. They should both be recovered by the time you've docked."

"Also, Captain. Word from the Turing. Commander sh'Zoarhi has her up and running and Doctor Mah is attending to her crew. Full casualty list will be coming in shortly. And the Getaway Driver and Barbosa are docking in shuttlebay one now. A medical team is already there on standby." Dox finished, giving her report to the Captain.

"Excellent job, Commander. Turning helm control over to you now." With that, Enalia leaned back in her chair and relaxed a bit, a soft smile on her lips.

"We did a good thing today, everyone. We welcomed a new form of life to the greater galaxy."

"Like delivering a cosmic baby, doncha know!"

In the busy sickbay of the U.S.S. Hera, Captain Marnia DeVonis of looked none the worse for wear as she walked among the biobeds of her crewmembers. The away team from her own ship, the Oberth-Class Science Vessel, the U.S.S. Turing, had received injuries during their ill-fated investigation by Shuttlecraft of the planetoid now known as the composite, crystalline lifeform called Sia.

In her heart, the carmel-skinned human woman was a scientist. And while her people were saved by the timely arrival of the Hera and the brave actions of her crew, she still lost a crewmember in the crash of their shuttle on the planetoid, and the loss stung the explorer hard. Science officer S'aken was Vulcan, and succumbed quickly to the debilitating effects of the crystaline life's attempts to communicate that negatively impacted all sentients who were psi-rated. As such, he had not been able to strap himself in properly when their shuttle decompressed during the crash, getting him blown out where his fall to the planet's surface killed him.

His body was recovered, but she knew enough about Vulcan ceremony to hope his Katra was safe for the return trip she would be taking to Vulcan to bring his body home.

The Caitian Exobiologist, Flures, was recovering from burns and internal bleeding from the crash and was in good spirits, all things considered. In truth, it was something of a miracle that the rest of her party were otherwise fine: Flight officer Shing, Doctor Garcia, Geologist Ka'Tang, and Petty Officers Nunes, Klobuncher and V'rass. Though all were still waiting for more through checkups from the Hera's remarkable medical staff. A staff that was a little overextended taking care of some of their own as well.

The human Captain had found that the Hera was... unique. Her commander, an unusual throwback to another era in her vintage gold uniform bearing the command delta of a bygone age. A crew of distinct personalities that all worked together to save her and hers from their own curiosity, with no thought of their own safety. The Starfleet way, shown in remarkable style.

Taking up some of the biobeds, were members of the Hera's own crew that had suffered minor injuries or psionic damage from SIA'S attempts at communication. Lieutenant Commander Mnhei'sahe Dox sat with an impatient expression on a biobed waiting to be cleared for duty. "Seriously, I have had far worse hangovers, Doctor. I'm fine."

Next to her, her avian wife Mona Gonadie patted Dox on the back and soothed her minor irritation. The brilliantly plumed pilot was also there to be checked out as she, and many of the Hera's crew possessed some degree of psionic sensitivity and all suffered an extended period of mental pressure that resulted in irritability and headaches. DeVonis' own crew had suffered the same effects, but much worse for much longer as the Turin lacked the enhanced shielding that blocked much of the stronger effects of Sia's communication signal. Many of DeVonis' people were in stasis back on the recovered Turing, awaiting transport to the nearest Starbase for medical treatment.

Which was where both ships were now headed under high warp. It was only a few hours to the nearest Starbase, and the Hera was escorting the Turing to ensure it's safety. But that left Marnia DeVonis feeling like a child being handheld by an elder who clearly knew it's way around the galaxy better. This mission was a hard lesson for her to swallow.

Stepping over to Commander Rita Paris, who was standing vigil over her husband, the Vulcan named Sonak, who had suffered the hardest impact of the psionic interference and had put himself into a healing trance to protect himself, was still unconscious. "Commander. How is he?"

Retracting the helmet of the Science blue EVA armor through a PaDD she was holding, Paris made eye contact with the Turing’s captain. “I believe he’ll be fine, but we’re about to find out. This may be a bit violent for you, but trust me, it’s what needs be done. Sonak? We’re aboard the Hera, we are safe, and I need for you to wake up, now.”

With those words spoken, tenderness clear in the Human woman’s tone, she reared back with her right hand and drove a hard slap across the handsome chiseled features of the unconscious Vulcan, then followed it up with a backhanded slap of similar force.

The EMH, Doctor Power, was only a couple steps away and raised his hand and looked like he was about to say something, but immediately thought better of it and turned around to help another patient.

Meanwhile, Captain DeVonis's eyes went wide for a moment as she opened her mouth to say something as well, but paused and waited. It was certainly unorthodox, but so far what wasn't where the Hera was concerned?

The third slap was caught in midswing by a precise, steady hand.

''Thank you, Commander. That was most effectively done.''

Sonak sat up on the biobed. His wife, however, would be the only one to notice how deliberate this simple act was, even for a Vulcan. She would also notice that his grip on her wrist was not as powerful as it usually was; and that he had to take a moment to completely focus his gaze on his surroundings.

But for that, her familiar, beautiful features proved to be perfectly adequate, as her face formed into a gentle smile.

Thank you, Thy'la his mind sent to hers as he let go of her arm only then.

You came back to me… as you always do, my love, she responded through their telepathic link, while aloud, she remained professional. “As always, Commander Sonak, your Vulcan healing trance has preserved you until such time as we could get clear of the immediate danger to you. I’m pleased to see the intense physical stimulus required to rouse you was sufficient. I believe Doctor Mah would still prefer to examine you after your ordeal, if you are amenable to a brief stay in Sickbay?”

Sonak nodded.

''It would be illogical not to do so. Although I seem to have effectively shut my mind off this psionic assault, there might be residual effects I am not aware of, or some unfelt damage that could have later consequences. And regulations are there for a reason, which is not to be ignored, as some might illogically state.''

Dr. Mah came in after checking on the collective readings from the new patients as well as her own progress as the baseline. The disruptions from whatever was coming at them was making Theta wave creation in all species a problem. It meant whatever they were facing was actively causing distress to rest cycles to everyone on board. She looked up to Commander Paris. "I would like all children placed into a shielded area if possible. We have no idea how to stop this at the moment, but we do know that rest cycle interruption in children can cause long term harm and will further agitate any parental figures who already going to be running on borrowed strength. For their safety I recommend a quarantined area for all crew under the age of 20 and their primary caregiver."

"Ah, Doctor... we actually managed to communicate with the lifeforms on the planet, the Sia. They're a crystalline hivemind, which I'm sure is going to make for some fascinating study when the Turing returns to study and continue the first contact work. The Theta waves you're mentioning was them attempting to communicate with us. They know it's harmful to us now, so they're learning to isolate their communication more... less shouting, more speaking, I suppose? But we're headed for Starbase 129... wow, we have that many starbases now?" At that Paris paused and chuckled. Throughout the explanation she had her hand resting on Sonak's shoulder. "At any rate- good call, good precaution, but the situation has changed and the danger has passed, Doc."

Dr. Mah nodded, "Excellent," she updated the mountains of data she had running on her PaDD, "I still want all of the children run through check-ups, the younger the higher up on the priority list. Developing brains are highly susceptible to interruptions in any brain cycles, even the tiniest harmful levels can lay in future neural pathways leading to unseen issues." She looked at Commander Paris with all seriousness when it came to the well-being of the tinest passengers.

She looked back at her PaDD and the patient in front of her. "Commander Sonak, how is your body reacting to the current input you are sensing?" She was obviously used to dealing with Vulcans in sickbay, not bothering to ask him 'how do you feel' as many might.

''I have my normal mental barriers operational and they seem to suffice perfectly in the current circumstances. I am not currently opening myself to sense paranormal activity. In recent months, my original level of psionic power has been slowly starting to reassert itself for reasons not yet fully established. I have a working hypothesis but, at this point, it is preferable to be cautious.''

Dr. Mah nodded at Commander Sonak, "Your recovery should be solid with another day of rest as long as you have a solid night of sleep. If you find you have trouble finding rest for any reason please let me know and I will have something brought to you. I fully agree with keeping your mental faculties closed for at least a week until you can come in for a scan to ensure your show stable levels again. Until then you are free to take your leisure free from sickbay." She nodded professionally to the Commander moving on to the next patient while flashing Commander Paris a quick smile.

''Acknowledged, Doctor, '' the chief science officer of the Hera responded.

He stood up and faced his shapely wife. There was but a second of silence between them; it was more than enough for Rita to understand his recognition of her actions on his behalf, which to her mind needed no recognition.

''With your permission, Commander, I will return this suit to it's proper holding area and head back to our quarters after filing my report of the mission.''

“Absolutely. Thank you for your service, Commander- your contribution to this mission was invaluable. I will rejoin you shortly,” Paris replied, although he could sense the concern she felt. Aloud, of course, she kept it professional, as they had for many years now. Regardless of her personal feelings, when they were on duty they were all business.

The piratical Trill captain, Enalia Telvan chose that moment to make her sweeping entrance into sickbay with the intent of checking on those they were treating. "Captain DeVonis, it's wonderful to have you and your crew aboard. How's everyone doing?"

"Ah, Captain Telvan." DeVonis turned to address the Hera's mistress, offering her hand and a genuine smile. "It's a pleasure to finally meet you. I do wish the circumstances of our being here had not been what they were, but my people are in recovery here and back on the Turing and I have you and your extraordinary crew to thank for that."

Returning the handshake, Enalia smiled brightly. "I'm just happy we got there in time and were able to find a way to communicate with Sia before we lost anyone more. By the way, I've made all of our files relating to the system and the mission available to you so you can review them at your leisure."

At that Captain DeVonis's eyes fell slightly and her shoulders stiffened as she thought of her Science chief who was lost on the landing party, but in truth, the casualties could have been far worse, not that that reduced the sting of that sense of loss or failure. But the Starfleet captain quickly recovered and returned a smile to her counterpart. "Thank you, Captain. That should provide ample data to research and pour-over. A welcome bit of news for any Science team, to be sure."

"We had a good dozen crewmembers who were adversely affected by the psionic signal. Frankly, I've never been quite so happy to have failed a test so thoroughly at the Academy as my PSI rating." DeVonis chuckled lightly as she looked around. "I'm pleased to see your Lieutenant Commander Sonak recovering. And it appears your shield modulations kept your PSI sensitive crewmembers from much of the worst of the effect." The Turing's Captain said, looking over at the various crewmembers being looked at, as Doctor Power gave Dox a scan at the biobed.

"Indeed. Then again, we're used to dealing with... The unusual. When things go bump in the night..." Rather than expanding upon what she meant by that, Enalia switched to another topic, her voice softening as she rested a hand on the arm of her Starfleet counterpart. "Is this the first time you've lost a crewmember?"

"No." DeVonis replied. "But no matter how much Starfleet Command training tries to prepare you for it, I find that it never really gets any easier. Perhaps when it does, it's time to retire." 

"Though, between us and Commander Paris, I would be lying if I said that being... rescued like this wasn't a bit of a splash of cold water on our collective faces. A reminder that we are just a science vessel in a very big galaxy." the Turing's commander shook her head and looked down slightly. "Starfleet will likely be reevaluating if I'm really ready for the big chair after this, I'm afraid."

"Hey, everyone needs rescuing now and then. Amend that to being just one starship in a very big galaxy and remember that the Hera, at her heart, is still a science vessel as well." The Trill captain got serious as she spoke, her voice still soft, but an experienced and reassuring undertone filling it in. "And just because we're some fancy intel modded science vessel the size of a small starbase don't think we haven't needed rescuing before either. We've been towed back to base twice now by Oberth class haulers. Besides, you did the best you could with the information you had and our reports will reflect that."

"And remember. We're Starfleet. That means you're never alone." Enalia leaned in and gave Captain De'Vonis a meaningful look as she said those words to drive her point home. "Same crew, same fleet, we've got each other's backs no matter what."

"Thank you, Captain. And, of course, it is much appreciated." DeVonis said, giving Enalia a nod.

“Besides,” Paris chimed in, stepping in beside her captain. “if your Lieutenant hadn’t gotten that beacon up, Lieutenant Commander Sonak and I would likely still be down there. Your decisive actions and finding ways to deal with the situation saved us both… and for that, I’m deeply grateful, Captain.”

With that said, Paris offered her hand, genuine gratitude written across her face. Meanwhile, from the biobeds, Dox groaned slightly at the continued tests being administered on her.

"Really, Doctor? I feel fine. The headache is gone. Can I please be dismissed?" The red-headed pilot protested with a groan as the ship's touchy EMH continued to scan her head for lingering effects of the crystal's psionic communication while Dr. Mah came over to look the data over as well, reviewing everything to make sure the crew was recovering properly.

Doc Power held up a hand in protest even as he kept scanning with his tricorder. "As soon as we can ensure that there are no lingering effects that will interact with your wife and unborn children. Speaking of which, Lieutenant Gonadie will have to stay for at least another eighteen hours of observation, maybe longer."

Looking across at the bed next to her where Mona was sitting, Dox nodded in consent with an anxious smile for her wife and bond-mate who, on the surface, seemed okay now that the crisis had passed.

"Uh... of course, Doctor." Mona and the three chicks were extremely psi-sensitive at the time, and while they were off duty during the incident and went to sickbay almost immediately, there was still a legitimate concern that reminded the anxious Romulan woman to calm down and do as she was told. "Is she... are they okay? I know that during her pregnancy, her natural abilities are extremely heightened."

"Miradonian and Romulan biology are both quite resilient so I'm sure there's nothing to worry about, however..." The holographic doctor paused a moment as he glanced over a PaDD for a moment. "The stress has not been kind to them."

"They refuse to sing," Mona clarified softly for her bond-mate, her voice quieter than usual. "It feels like we've had a planet-wide orchestra in our heads for days and... I think we just need some rest."

Wanting to get up to hold Mona and share her love with her, Dox bit her lower lip slightly and restrained herself for a moment, which was profoundly difficult. "Doctor, our bond. Our empathic bond. It's... it's always been something we've been able to draw strength from. To help each other. But considering what just happened, do you think it would be helpful or harmful right now?"

Doc Power could only sigh and tuck the tools of his trade away before clasping his hands in front of him. "Unfortunately, I can only venture an educated guess at this point. That educated guess is that the bond you share can never be bad as long as there's love involved. Sappy introspection aside, I advise caution and a semi-silent mind while sharing said bond."

With the scans over, Dox got up and stepped over to Mona's biobed, sitting down next to her and putting one of her arms around her wife, while taking Mona's hand with the other one. Gently, they leaned into one another and smiled as they renewed their bond and smiled.

As Captain Telvan stood by, watching the recovery in Sickbay, Commander Paris sidled up beside her, hands clasped behind her back. “Well…. we rescued a science expedition that discovered more than they bargained for following up on one of more unusual adventures. We made contact with a new life form, and established good relations with them. We saved an Oberth class and got her out of peril, and we managed it with only one casualty. All in all, a good day in Starfleet?”

"I would agree and rate it as one of our better missions. On top of that, many of us got experience in things we aren't used to." Enalia had her hands on her hips as she was wont to do, but she surveyed the sickbay with a look of concern rather than her usual grin or queenly looks. "In fact, Commander Dox did very well in the big chair. I think she's actually been listening to all that command training we've been throwing at her."

“I’ll have to take your word for it, but I think Lieutenant Commander Dox has had good tutors,” Paris replied, wondering if today would be the day she would lose Dox to the Artan fleet. Enalia already seemed ready to promote her again, she had her own starship command and the Artans were in the process of trying to attach a fleet to her. All of which served to remind Rita that she could feel Starfleet’s losing hand in the struggle to keep Dox in Starfleet.

Dr. Mah approached Commander Paris, "Is there a central nursery where the children go regularly? It might make exams a bit faster if I went to them instead of trying to bring them all to sickbay. I know exactly what I am looking for and with parental permission I can bring plenty of lollipops during my games for them to enjoy." She looked quite delighted at the idea of spending time with a group of kids.

"Central core, one deck down, Dr. Mah. There is a complete nursery, preschool and some family quarters, and Deck 14 at the central core has the intermediate educational schools. We've very few children onboard, only about 33 at last count, but you may note we have a great number of pregnant crew members. We should probably have a talk about that sometime soon, now that you mention it..." Paris trailed off enigmatically, with a knowing nod.

Dr. Mah nodded while looking at her PaDD, "Deck 14, 33 children, on it." She looked up from her instrument however at the tone in Paris' voice as she stepped away with a serious note to ask what the mischievous Security Chief wasn't telling her as she wandered to the turbolift and accessed the med record count for the number of patients she had. If one watched closely they could see the poor doctor turn around on the turbolift, her eyes go huge and the doors hiss shut with a slight echo of, "What the..." as she was swept away to her destination.

The Trill captain chuckled softly and booped Rita on the nose. "I recommend taking her with you the next time you go to see Hera. Make sure that aura inhibitor is working as well, please? I'd rather not have the entire crew pregnant. It's bad enough that over a quarter is in the family way."

"What aura inhibitor...?"

Listening, Captain DeVonis smiled a little bit at the remarkably unorthodox ship and crew that had saved hers. In a few hours, she and the rest of her crew and her ship would be dropped off at the nearest starbase. Reports would be filed and hearings would be convened and with any luck, there was even a chance that she might even keep her ship. But that was a problem for later. For now, her ship was in once piece and her crew had suffered far fewer injuries and losses than it would have thanks to the Hera's arrival. And for the moment, she was happy for that.