Yeoman Ila Dedjoy's log, 2397. After making contact with the hivemind entity now known as Sia Dead Joy, I'm reminded of my sister whom I'll admit as the second twin born, was not expected to achieve anything in her life by Illaran standards or tradition. Even so, she hoped to escape these constraints of our society and our rock farming family by joining the Starfleet Enlisted Corps before I did. However, on her first assignment, and in fact as far as I know, her first away mission, she lost her life. I have given the entity today the name that she had hoped to earn and I can't help but review the logs of her passing. Thus, for posterity, I will record my own memories and records of what happened. Perhaps one day researchers will look back on these logs in relation to the Sia Dead Joy entity in the Primordius planet in the Dedjoy system and wonder...

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Clio had intentionally gone to transporter room two early, deciding to wait there for Vicky and Crewman Dedjoy. Their mission parameters were simultaneously simple and complex. Collect information on the 'Drej' without anyone realizing that was, in fact, what they were doing. With that in mind, Clio had swapped her uniform for something more casual, jeans and a lightweight sweater, with instructions sent to the others to dress similarly. Farenia was the official face of this operation; Clio's team wasn't meant to look remotely Starfleet. That did not, however, mean she was going unarmed. She assumed her teammates would know to at least bring a phaser, and she had a phaser hidden at her waist as well as a number of small knives hidden in whatever convenient places she'd found in her outfit. Anyone looking at her would assume she was unarmed and harmless.

The ten minutes she'd given Vicky and Dedjoy was quickly running out, and she glanced at the door with a hint of concern. If they didn't synchronize their beam out, the people on the station might realize two teams had been sent instead of one.

Vicky and Crewman Dedjoy arrived at the same time. While Vicky was still in uniform, the crewman was dressed in a blacked out catsuit of some sort and had not one, but two tricorders on her belt. She also had a small phaser and several pouches on that belt. "An away mission to a station. Thank you for this opportunity, Commander. I won't let you down." The crewman said as she reported in with Clio. As for Vicky, she noticed she was overdressed, and just morphed her clothes into something resembling a combination of the other two outfits.

"You're welcome." Clio checked her watch and ushered them onto the pad. "Coordinated beam out with Captain Meowlith's team. You have about fifteen seconds to get in place."

Vicky and Dedjoy clambered up into place on the transporter pad just in time. "I hate these things..." Vicky muttered as the transporter's sparkle effect washed over them.

"Suck it up." Clio wasn't sure whether to use their last names or first names, so she just left their names out altogether for now. Once they'd materialized, she looked around where they'd ended up, an abandoned section of the station near where all the shops and gathering places were. "Anything we find might be useful. Don't brush anything off, no matter how silly it sounds."

"Like this graffiti?" Dedjoy asked, pulling out a tricorder and scanning a slightly glowing blue spray painted vaguely humanoid figure.

Vicky was edging closer to a closed down store, looking over the empty stalls where she assumed fruit once rested. "The existence of produce stands indicates that there may have been farming on this station at one point... I wonder if there still is. And commander, please call me Vicky while we're here. I understand now that covert is part of our mission here."

Dedjoy looked up from her tricorder for a moment and stammered out an introduction as well. "Ah... um... my people only use one name unless we earn a second. I'm just Dedjoy. Just like seventeen generations of women before me."

"Clio. Not 'commander'. We aren't in Starfleet, capiche?" Clio took note of the glow-y graffiti and long forgotten fruit stands, which both spoke to a much higher population in the past. It was odd how empty this part of the station was. "Once we get to what passes for civilization here, start mingling." Her sensitive ears having already heard some faint but distinct sounds that generally meant people, Clio headed off down one of the corridors, still looking around.

The two other women followed along, trying to stay quiet. Vicky failed though as she was looking up at a billboard of some sort and tripped over a stack of empty crates. muttering a bit, she apologized to the crates and restacked them.

Dedjoy looked around scared, then realized no one was there to even notice them. Moving closer to Clio, she brought up the subject of the tricorders. "These tricorders are Starfleet issue... Should I have not brought them? Eh... Clio?"

Clio neatly suppressed the impulse to roll her eyes, though she was pretty certain she'd made sure to tell them this mission was covert. And one of them had brought Starfleet issue tricorders without disguising them. "Just... if anyone asks, you stole them from some idiot who set them down and turned his back."

"Roger that," Dedjoy replied, returning to scanning everything.

By this time, Vicky had made her way to the end of the street and was looking out at the people walking and shopping. There weren't many people, but there were enough for her to get a good read on how hard life was in this part of the station.

The station was oddly sparsely populated, even as they moved closer to the population center. Not a soul seemed interested in talking; most just hurried by, minding their own business. Clio watched them all without being very obvious about it, until she heard a small group of men talking about the Drej. She caught a few words, mostly "Drej" and "ugly plasma bastards" before they noticed she was listening. Then they quickly moved off.

Dedjoy was less than helpful as she tried talking to several people. No one seemed interested though. Vicky, on the other hand, had studied several of the locals and had morphed to mimic one of the more common races of the local populace. Except her hair and eyes were purple... People still avoided her, but at least she could attempt to mingle and heard more than the others. Moving back to Clio, she reported her findings. "Apparently, the farms three levels down have had catastrophic water failure and a lot of people have moved to other geofronts. That's why we're not seeing many people. There's also supposedly no one left that knows the systems there so repairs are expected to take a few cycles. And replicated food seems to garner disdain by the locals."

Not to be outdone, Dedjoy reported back as well. "I've discovered that this part of the station is close to ninety thousand years old and most of it is composed of a silicate-duranium alloy I'm having trouble analyzing. Also, the building materials of the structures within this area are closer to three hundred years old and seem to be made of carbon based plant fibers."

"All I've heard was a few scattered curses about the Drej. Nothing concrete." Clio hadn't known that there were civilizations using duranium ninety-thousand years ago, and the station certainly didn't look that old. "Is there anyway we can help these people? I'd hate to leave them struggling to survive out here."

Vicky had a response already formulating. Unfortunately, it wasn't entirely good. "I'd get with the Captain about that. I'm not even sure if our engineers can sort out their systems so I'd hate to promise something we can't deliver on."

"I'll ask her when we get back. Nothing about the Drej from anyone you talked to?" It didn't seem promising that they'd find anything here about the blue plasma creatures, but Clio thought it was worth asking anyway.

Vicky shook her head no. "I overheard someone talking about a bloody documentary in relation to the Drej, But that's it."

Dedjoy piped up at that note. "I found a somewhat working data terminal about a block back. We might be able to get at least some public information from it. Perhaps even this documentary."

"Better than nothing. Let's try it." Clio indicated that Dedjoy should show them where she'd seen the console. She figured that she could get it working more than just partway.

Leading the group back to where she found the terminal, she pushed aside a stack of empty crates that had been sitting in front of it and started scanning. The screen flickered a few times and showed a sort of static and bars pattern that shifted occasionally. "The datalink is active at least."

"That's all I need. Watch my back." Clio got down on the floor and slid underneath the terminal, carefully manipulating the loose wiring to see if she could clear up the picture at all. "Let me know if it clears up any."

Vicky actually looked around the area and watched for other people whereas Dedjoy literally watched Clio's back. She was the first to see the screen flicker to life though, the screen showing some blue and amber circle based operating system. "It's cleared up."

Clio slid out from underneath the terminal and scrambled to her feet before tapping gingerly on the screen to sort through what they were able to access. "Not a whole helluva lot here. Mostly shipping manifests, farming almanacs... and a single folder marked 'Drej'." Curious, she opened that folder and selected the video file inside.

The video started playing, going over facts and history about the Drej. The narrator was dry and boring, but there was still a lot of information doled out. Fortunately, this was the same video that the other away team had been introduced to by their welcoming party. facts and history.

Even Clio, a member of a species who considered war a form of art, found these 'Drej' to be distasteful. But she took one of Dedjoy's tricorders and uploaded the video to the Katana's computer for future reference without much commentary on its content. "Never thought I'd meet a species that makes my people look genuinely friendly."

"An entire race that just wants to exterminate all other forms of life..." Vicky muttered, wondering how anyone could be that xenophobic.

Dedjoy was still staring at the screen, but she could get out a response. "Your people have to be at least somewhat friendly to be in the Federation. These Drej...I doubt they could even be reasoned with."

"The Cervan Empire is not a member of the Federation. It's a long story, and one better suited for some other time." It was rare that Clio found herself so unsettled by another species and their lifestyle, but the Drej... well they weren't like any other species she'd met.

"You're in the Federation, even if your people aren't. Still friendly." Dedjoy insisted, still trying to wrap her head around what she'd learned about the Drej.

Then Vicky interrupted the other two."Sorry, but I think I hear sirens of some sort. Do you think it's a bad thing?"

"...most likely." Now that Vicky mentioned hearing them, Clio couldn't mistake the distinct sounds of some sort of alarm. "We should get back to our beam out point. Just in case."

Before they got more than a block away, the sirens stopped and there was the distinct sound of weapons fire not far from them. Both energy based and projectile based. Scanning the area, Dedjoy commented. "It's less than two blocks away. I'm picking up weapons discharges as well as a large stockpile of kemocite. Likely enough to take out most of this geofront."

"Our orders are to observe, not to get involved in a turf war." Clio's natural instinct was to find out what was going on, but she started urging Vicky and Dedjoy back toward the beam out point. "If they do have that much kemocite and we stay here... we're toast. We're leaving."

"Roger that," Dedjoy replied as they made their way back to the beam out site. it didn't take them long, but just as they got there, an explosion ripped through several buildings, causing an air burst to flow through the area. Both Dedjoy and Vicky were knocked over as debris came flying down from the explosion. Then there was a sound similar to that of a freight train.

Clio felt the explosion rip through her left ear drum even as it sent her tumbling to the deck and bits of debris bounced around her, some of it striking her and the others. "Shit!" Somehow finding her comm badge inside her sweater, she squeezed it and hoped they'd actually be able to hear her. "Eneas to Katana! Get us out of here!"

Either they'd heard her or the sound of rushing air had clued them in because a second later the transporter beam grabbed Clio and her team, depositing them in one of the transporter rooms. Clio could feel a slow trickle of blood escape from her damaged ear, but the first thing she did was look to see if Vicky and Dedjoy were at least in one piece.

Dedjoy had been knocked unconscious but otherwise seemed to at least be alive. There was blood trickling from her nose and ears, but she was breathing just fine.

Vicky... She was in the process of morphing into her tree form. Big brown pot... purple leaves... big boobs... She shook her branches a bit but otherwise... Well, who knows with her people.

Dedjoy was breathing and Vicky was... shapeshifting. Good enough, Clio could live with that. "Get medical up here," she said to the somewhat shell-shocked transporter tech. She figured she could make it to sickbay on her own, but Dedjoy clearly wasn't going to be walking anywhere.

Within moments, holographic medical orderlies materialized and begun the process of prepping all three for an emergency transport to sickbay.

Clio had stayed in the transporter room until transport to sickbay could be arranged, though to her minor irritation they'd had to beam Dedjoy and the Vicky-tree there so the transporter tech had also beamed Clio to sickbay instead of letting her walk there herself. She had insisted to the medical orderlies who greeted them that she was not nearly as injured as Dedjoy and to tend to the wounded crewman first. She was starting to regret that insistence now.

Fully deaf in her left ear and most definitely sore from the pressure wave and flying debris, Clio almost thought that being unconscious would be more bearable. But she waited - patiently - on a biobed while the EMH and his team examined Dedjoy and gave the Vicky-tree exasperated 'how do we examine her like that' looks.

The entirely holographic medical staff rushed to take care of Dedjoy, catching an aneurysm in the process of forming due to the massive concussion and working on keeping her from bleeding too much. The EMH was working hard at it as two orderlies scanned Vicky repeatedly. Vicky just shook her branches at them a few times and that was it when they tried coaxing her back to her humanoid form.

Then an orderly approached Clio and started scanning. "May I ask what happened that gave you three these injuries?"

"Away mission to the station. Information gathering. Something exploded next to us and the section decompressed." Clio thought her voice sounded so odd when she could only hear out of one ear. "How's Dedjoy?"

"Alive, thankfully. Clots were starting to form in her brain from the concussion but we caught them just in time. It seems you have a concussion as well, but are in far better condition. We'll have a lot of work to do on that ear though." The holographic orderly replied.

"She was closer to the source. I mostly got hit with the pressure wave." And if Clio had been leading them from the front, it would be her lying in the operating suite. She couldn't quite shake the feeling that maybe she'd done something wrong. "I've ruptured that ear drum before. I'll be fine."

The orderly nodded, focusing her scans deeper on the offending ear. "We might still need to replicate the more tender bits and graft them in place. I'm picking up a lot of old scar tissue so the Doctor will probably fix that as well. We've all been briefed on Lieutenant Iniya's unique physiology, but we're not programmed to treat plant based life forms. Is there anything you can do to help?"

"Um, I can try." Clio slid off the biobed, wobbling a little bit as she stood up. She was dizzy, that was certain. But she carefully made her way over to where Vicky-the-tree was, ignoring the rattling branches. "They can't scan you like that, you know."

The rustling branches stilled as it seemed tree-Vicky was thinking. after a few more moments, she started morphing back to her humanoid form, revealing the actual damage that had been done to her. She wasn't bleeding from any of her orifices... No, she was bleeding all over from cuts all over her skin and large purple bruises were forming all over her exposed skin. Finishing her transformation, she lay there on the floor shaking and panting.

Clio slowly lowered herself to the floor, trying to keep her head from spinning. "I'm sorry," she said quietly. "If I'd thought it might be dangerous, I wouldn't have asked you to come."

Vicky smiled weakly as the orderlies lifted her and settled her onto a biobed to await her own surgeries. "I would have gone anyway. Did we get what we needed at least?"

"I think we did." Clio stayed right where she was on the floor. She knew better than to get up by herself; she was too dizzy for that - and getting queasy on top of it.

As the two orderlies on Vicky started treating her as best they could, the orderly that had been helping Clio helped her up and back onto the biobed. She then gave Clio a heavy dose of painkillers and anti-emetics in a hypo, then started working on her lesser cuts and bruises with a dermal regenerator. "Please stay still. As soon as the other two are stabilized, the doctor will be treating you and you don't want to aggravate your injuries."

"Stay still? You clearly don't know me very well." Clio did have to wonder though just what injuries they were so worried about that they were telling her to be completely still. "I've been down this road a hundred times. You can tell me what it is you've found."

"The fluid in your inner ear that gives you balance on the injured side has been ruptured and you're likely to fall," the holographic orderly declared, still working on the lesser injuries and leaving the major ones for the EMH.

"...oh. Yeah, I'll stay here then." While Clio had never damaged her ear to that extent before, she had no desire to add 'undignified fall' to today's events.

After a few more minutes, the EMH and two orderlies stepped out of the operating area, a hover cart with a sheet draped over Crewman Dedjoy. They were solemn as they transferred her to a stasis tube and filled out cursory paperwork. They then moved to focus on the baffling Vicky.

Oh no. Clio propped herself up partway, watching as the two orderlies pushed Dedjoy's body into stasis. She'd gotten that poor girl killed, and they'd only just met.

Thankfully, the EMH was more able to help Vicky. Pulling a large lamp-like set of poles out of an equipment locker, he set them up in a corner. "Lieutenant Iniya, if you would please resume your tree form, a few hours under these specialized regeneration lights should have you back to new." With the help of one of the orderlies, Vicky was able to take to her feet and transform once again, the lamps clicking on and washing her with light and radiation similar to the output of a dermal regenerator.

Satisfied with how that was going, the EMH stepped over to Clio and looked her chart over. "Ruptured inner ear, is it? Thirty minutes and I'll have you as good as new. Do you have any questions or comments for me before we begin?"

The EMH was, of course, standing on the side she was deaf on. For once, Clio was thankful for all the times she'd inadvertently damaged her hearing since they'd given her some degree of lip-reading ability. "What happened to Dedjoy?"

The EMH was somber as he set her chart aside and moved to her other side to set up some equipment. "We caught the first aneurysm just fine and thought she'd be ok. But then bruising in the brain set in and we couldn't keep up with the clotting that was forming after that."

"Damn." The first away mission she'd been allowed to lead, and it had to end like that. Clio looked away from the EMH, not really looking at anyone or anything. No, she was just thinking that if she'd done the one thing away team leaders always did - walk in front of the team - Dedjoy would be alive.

As the EMH finished up with setup of his equipment, he glanced up at Clio and realized something. "I take it you were leading the away mission. I'll have to recommend a few visits with our counselor. Once she's healed up and back on duty, that is..."

"I was, and I don't expect there will be too many more of them in my future after this." Seeing the counselor was almost laughable. Clio didn't think Vicky was going to want to counsel her after this. "How long is it going to be to fix my hearing?"

"About thirty minutes," the EMH said patiently. He then moved back to her deaf ear and began working, starting with applying a device that produced a localized nerve anesthetizing field to numb the area. An orderly stepped in to hand the doctor tools and to relay messages if need be.

"I need something for anxiety then." Clio knew most people wouldn't find thirty minutes to be a long time, but her heart was already racing. There was no way she could be still for that long.

"What normally works for you for anxiety?" the orderly assisting asked.

"I take lorazepam." Clio knew most doctors didn't like to jump directly to a sedative like that, but they did ask. "I'm not on a daily medication for it. Only as needed."

As the orderly prepped a hypo and gave her a good healthy dose, the EMH started working.

Farenia was staring at her terminal, reading over the list of new personnel that came in on that new Delta class shuttle. She couldn't believe Starfleet had done this and she knew that the news of Crewman Dedjoy's demise hadn't yet reached her family yet. Tapping her comm badge, she steeled herself to deliver bad news. "Commander Eneas and Crewman Dedjoy, report to my ready room." Now she'd have to hope that their former crewman's sister didn't take the news badly and that Clio didn't feel even worse for it.

Crewman Dedjoy had just disembarked and been assigned her quarters, Tossing her duffel onto her new bunk when the call came in. Already called to the captain's office? That didn't sound good... Maybe this commander that was also called was her department head and the Captain did things differently with a more hands on approach. Either way, she checked her uniform in the mirror and headed out. She just hoped she'd see her twin sister soon.

Clio had been squirreled away in her office, finishing some last minute reports when the call came through. Hearing the second name called, she froze in place, still holding a PaDD in her hand. She was pretty sure Dedjoy had died in sickbay, but surely Farenia wasn't that much of a troll. Rather than call and ask what was going on, she very slowly set the PaDD down and left her office, going to the bridge. There was a looming sense of dread as she approached Farenia's ready room door and pressed the door chime button, one that suggested there was a lot more to this than some juvenile prank.

"Come in," Farenia called, relieved that it was Clio that was at the door first. "Please come in and have a seat. I have... news."

"I'd gathered that." Clio wasn't quite sure what to think as she came inside the ready room and found a place to sit. "What kind of news?"

Farenia likely didn't have much time and she didn't want to mince words as it was. "Dedjoy's twin sister was just assigned and she more than likely hasn't received the news yet."

No sooner had she finished speaking than the door chimed again. It seemed ominous, but Farenia paused before calling out. "Come in."

And there stood Crewman Dedjoy.

"Commander, this is Crewman Ila Dedjoy." Farenia stated simply.

Clio turned just enough to see who Ila Dedjoy was, and instantly her breath caught in her throat as her pulse quickened. For several long seconds, she was convinced she was looking at a women she knew was dead in the sickbay morgue. But Dedjoy hadn't had a first name, had she? She'd been 'just Dedjoy', Clio was sure of it. Which meant this was a different person, which meant... no, that couldn't be right. Starfleet wouldn't do that, assigning a dead officer's identical twin to the same ship. Or would they?

Feeling the rest of the color drain from her face, Clio swallowed. She wasn't ready for this.

"Crewman, please have a seat." Farenia began. As Dedjoy took the seat next to Clio, she seemed oblivious to Clio's plight. "You've been waiting on transportation here for about a week now, I take it?"

The crewman nodded cheerfully. "Yes ma'am. I asked for this assignment once I found out my sister was here and you were headed into the stellar nursery. I'm hoping we can earn her a given name."

"You have to... earn your given name?" That certainly didn't make Clio feel any better, knowing that Dedjoy had been robbed of an essential tradition her people apparently held. She had no idea how she was going to break that sort of news to Ila... or if she even wanted to be the one to do it.

"That's how we do it." Ila Dedjoy said with a nod. "Otherwise, we're just known by job or rank if we have one."

Farenia nodded, deciding it was time. "Crewman Ila Dedjoy, I regret to inform you that on stardate..." As Farenia spoke as if from a script, Ila's face sank in horror the more Farenia spoke. When she was done, she sat there in silence.

Ila could only shake her head, mouthing the word 'no' while tears rolled down her cheeks.

Still somewhat stunned by this new development, Clio very gently put her hand on Ila's shoulder. "I'm sorry. We're not entirely certain what happened."

Ila shook her head some more, finally squeaking a full "No..." out.

"I'm sorry," Farenia spoke softly. "I wish I had better news. We almost lost Commander Eneas and our counselor on that mission as well. If you'd like to speak with them in private... Or if you'd like to transfer elsewhere..."

"I'm sorry," Clio repeated, squeezing the girl's shoulder. "She was closer to the explosion than I was. There was nothing I could do."

"The subsequent decompression didn't help either." Farenia said in hopes of comfort. "Vicky, our counselor is still in sickbay."

After a few more sobs, Ila nodded and wiped the tears from her eyes. "I'd like to see her... One last time."

"Of course. She's in stasis in sickbay." Clio wasn't looking forward to that either.

"Commander, do you mind escorting her to sickbay?" Farenia asked, still softly.

"Not at all." It was the right thing to say, but Clio wasn't sure she could actually do it. The gnawing pit in her stomach grew larger by the second, and sickbay was a decent walk away.

"Thank you. If either of you need anything, please let me know." Farenia said as Ila stood and took a few wavering steps towards the door.

Clio nodded as she got up to follow Ila, gently guiding the younger woman's wavering steps toward the door.

Ila knew she wasn't mourning well and she also knew that most races considered the instruments of hers to be... less than pleasant. Though she was consodered an accomplished mortepuss player, she had actually sent three people to sickbay with her playing before.

She didn't care at the moment though. She needed to mourn. And that included playing a dirge for her deceased sister.

As she played the instrument that looked like a cross between bagpipes, accordion, and a theremin and sounded like the death howls of a demon cat, she let the tears stream down her face in a hot shower.

Adrianna Baciami was quite dumbfounded by the sudden, miniature surge of patients complaining of earache. The only surges she had witnessed in all the years she had worked in the medical profession, tended to revolve around chickenpox, flu or something equally as infectious and minor. Regardless, on investigation, one commonality that had arisen was the place the patients were in and an onset of tinnitus.

Before the italian doctor reported something to engineering, incase it was just feedback from a comms system of sorts. She stood in the approximate point before it hit her. Her hands went to her ears, her nails almost trying to dig out the pain. Her father and brothers had always taught her to attempt to find a focal point during pain, so that secrets did not fall out of weakening lips. Her eyes shot to the chime of nearby quarters. Without much hesitation, Adrianna hit the chime several times.

Ila paused in her blowing, the instrument slowly yowling quiet as she set it aside and went to open the door. "Commander? Is there a problem?"

The italian staggered in a moment crying out as if she had been deafened, "MERDA! Did you not hear that!?" Her ears rang and her balance seemed off a tad from the overwhelming sound of what may have resembled a cat being strangled down a drainpipe and it's tail, simultaneously being used as a single strings violin

Ila nodded, wiping the tears from her eyes. "Yes, Commander. I was playing the mortepuss. Was it bothering you?"

Finally coming around, her ears numbing back to normal and the tinnitus fading to a soft whistle now, she squinted a little in confusion. Was this a word she had not got the translation for yet, or was this a instrument not from her world, "a what, sorry?"

"Mortepuss. It's one of the traditional instruments of mourning from my home. I'm not the best at it, but I am fairly accomplished." Ila insisted as she motioned for Adrianna to come in if she liked.

Adrianna frowned a little as she muttered, "The only thing you would mourn with that is the loss of hearing and the ability to walk in straight line." The doctor came in regardless and took a seat, "My apologies and condolences for the one you mourn for." How was the doctor to approach this matter delicately, "I am sorry to say, but this instrument is the reason behind three or four of my patients. Seems the sound does not settle well on the ears of humans."

"Ah, yeah. I've been told before that it doesn't do well with most races. I have no other way to truly express myself for..." Ila looked down at her hands and the tears started flowing again as she flopped back on the couch next to her mortepuss, eliciting a soft whine from it for the mistreatment.

Adrianna internally cringed. This was never the woman's strong point. Having 6 brothers meant that she had not been raised knowing how women really deal with each other. The chief may have been a doctor with a good bedside manner, but in these situations, well, she wasn't the best. "I truly am sorry. Perhaps you should ask engineering for soundproofing? If this is your release, then you need to continue."

It took Ila a few more moments before she could respond. "Sorry... I'm not even sure if I'm going to stay here. The captain offered to have me transferred back to my old assignment and I'm considering taking her up on it. I just got here. I was supposed to help my sister earn her name..."

Adrianna thought a moment before responding with the only words that she felt would offer comfort should the tables be turned, "In Earth history, there is writer, Shakespeare. He once wrote: what is in a name? That which we call a rose by any other name would smell as sweet." She offered a soft comforting smile, "Names die, it is memories that live on."

"For my people, it is our names that embody those memories." Ila explained, still watching the tears fall into her hands.

"I am not sure I understand," Adrianna honestly offered.

Ila sobbed a few more times before steeling herself enough to explain. "We're born of our family. We take that name and no other. Through our lives... our actions... We define who we are apart from our families. When we've created a legacy apart from the family name, we've earned our personal name and thus can be remembered. without a name, we're nothing but a counter. Nothing to remember."

That, Baciami understood, "To earn a name, is to earn a right. How did she die? She may have earnt it in death?"

Shaking her head, Ila pointed to a PaDD lying nearby with the report of the events that led to her sister's untimely demise. It briefly described how Commander Clio was leading an information gathering away mission to an ancient station but due to infighting and an accident, some kemocite was ignited and depressurized that part of the station. It then went on to say that Crewman Dedjoy succumbed to her injuries in sickbay and Lt Iniya was expected to spend several more days there.

Adrianna sighed a little, "You believe reports? They are written in bias for the intention of no bias. Make up your own story. She died fighting for life, therefore, she was strong, strong willed at the very least."

"I could try talking to Commander Eneas. Perhaps she has some insight..." Ila slumped a bit further into the couch as she spoke.

"Idea is good," Adrianna replied, "May I also suggest, again, that you talk to engineering to get this home soundproof before playing that mort-mord-more-dar-pooz?"

Ila nodded. "If I stay, I'll consider it. Thank you."

She nodded, "Thank you." The woman rose from her seat. Upon feeling her balance was back to normal she went to leave, "Nice to meet you signore..?"

"Ila Dedjoy." Ila looked up and smiled weakly.

'Dead joy' was an interesting name for someone clearly so... happy but Adrianna would have to keep a straight face for now. "I am Doctor Adrianna Baciami. Thank you for your hospitality."

"Any time." Ila replied absently, looking back at her mortepuss.

Departing sickbay, they walked together, moving in stride as so many career military personnel tended to do. Rita Paris maintained a martial stride most of the time, as a matter of efficiency on a large starship. Sonak, at ease maintaining nearly any pace, simply fell in step with her. After all, they had years ago arrived at the conclusion that she would set the pace and make the calls, and where she led, he would support and follow.

Even to another time and dimension. The man was ever as good as his word.

Today had been an eventful day. A planetoid with a Neutronium core had developed new life, that communicated at a vibrational frequency which was overwhelming for psi sensitive individuals, such as the master telepath from Vulcan. When he had sensed the problem, he had bulwarked his defenses and retreated to within his own mind, to prevent the cacophony of the crystalline hive-mind from overwhelming his own. Additionally, sealing himself off had enabled him to protect his human bride, whom in and of herself possessed no psionic capacity. But the bond they shared, that of t'hy'la, would have overwhelmed her and shattered her mind had he shared that maddening din with her. So he had placed his life in her hands, once more, by entering a Vulcan healing trance to recover from the initial damage, and to protect them both.

True to form, Rita had managed to get them back out of trouble, and the Hera had managed to communicate with the nascent life form, the Sia. Once safely back on the Hera, she had awakened him from his healing trance in the traditional method- by assaulting the body to stimulate adrenaline production, which indicated that the sleeper must awaken. This she had done, and awaken he had. But she had noticed his grip was not as firm, and his actions more deliberate. She sensed something was wrong, but he had reported nothing to the Sickbay personnel.

However, as they covered the ground to their quarters, internally, she fretted, and she reached out to him.

Husband? Are you unwell? I am concerned, she asked, phrasing her questions to communicate in a logical fashion.

I sense your concern beyond mere kindness, my wife. it is as appreciated, as are the efforts you made, at the risk of your own life, to ensure my safe return. But do not be alarmed. This ordeal simply awakened even further my psionic sensitivity. I must recenter my control over it. At this very moment, I must exert my will for our telepathic communication to not spill out other minds passing us by, or have their thoughts passed on to us.

As they turned into a deserted corner, he extended two fingers to her, to which she responded in kind, as she always would. An ancient Vulcan custom, it enabled the ease of direct telepathy, while having the additional sensation of deep and passionate kissing.

In truth, this was the worst of the ordeal I experienced when touched by the crystalline hivemind; their contact had, for a moment, restored all of of my former faculties; but in such a crude and brutal fashion that it would have erased my lifetime of discipline needed to control them. They have abated now; but if I do not check them properly, my psionic strength may harm someone, possibly you first and foremost because of our bond... and some shared past experiences. I will never permit this.

There was no one and nothing in this universe that was comparable to his wife. More that that; there was nothing that mattered more to him than her well being, insuring her peace, prosperity and long life. The mere idea that he could hurt her unintentionally was unacceptable. Thus he would dedicate all his efforts and discipline to ensure it would never be so. Ever.

It was no emotional response to duress. it was a logical assumption, from the fact that the brief contact with the hivemind had also restored a very, very dangerous memory; and with it the remnants of a connection that had to be severed again at all costs, if it proved to be real and not just a memory.

Because for a moment, the briefest of moments before he entered into his healing trance to shut off his mind, he had thought himself back on the most dangerous world in all the galaxy.

Talos IV.

Oh my stars... she replied as he led her through the experience, buffering it for her so that she would not experience the full brunt of what he himself had encountered. While resilient and deft, her mind was unprepared for such a contact. The last time her mind had contacted such a power, through him, it had nearly killed her. An aneurysm blossoming in her all-too-human brain, which could not contain nor comprehend the power it had encountered. That.... is VERY not good. So he is aware of you... are they multidimensional entities, or is this another Talosian who has taken advantage of the opportunity to connect with a mind such as your own?

That is the problem with the Talosians' power; it is impossible to tell if this is just a memory stimulated by the hive's contact, or an actual connection to the Talosians of this reality... and if so, a real one or one of their illusions. Thus the need to be cautious.

How may I assist you in this, he who is my husband? As our fates are intertwined, your challenges are mine to face alongside you. As we come to serve, how may I be of use in this endeavor? While she phrased it logically, perhaps even reminiscent of how he himself might approach the issue, it was a simple truth. It was in her nature to help, and there was no one save him with whom she was willing to face a danger as potentially significant as this one.

General Order 7 was no joke.

"No Starfleet vessel shall visit the planet Talos IV under any circumstances, emergency or otherwise. This order supersedes General Order 6- The request for emergency assistance from Federation citizenry or non-aligned persons demands unconditional priority from Starfleet personnel. Such personnel shall immediately respond to said request, postponing all other activities. This responsibility extends to current governments at odds, actively or passively, with the Federation.

Any transgression of this general order shall be punishable by death.".

Sonak stopped and stared straight into her bright blue inquisitive eyes. In a most uncharacteristic gesture, he took her cool hand in his own.

''Be here; be real.''

Bringing his hand to her cheek and holding it there, she replied in kind. "I swore to have and to hold, til death do us part. I will be here for you. I will be as real as I know how, and I will be my usual somewhat consistent self," she joked. Humor was not lost on the Kolinahr, nor was the capacity of humanity to employ it to diffuse tension. I know the Talosian illusions are powerful. But there is only one of me whom you can feel as you do, who feels you as I do. That bit of my katra in your own will always tell you if it's really me. Whatever else I can do to support you as you surmount this challenge, I will do so gladly.

I would not surrender you to the Talosians on our first mission together, and I most certainly will not surrender you now. Regardless of consequence or cost, she vowed, hoping he could feel the sincerity of her words. She had faced court martial and execution for rescuing him from Talos IV once, decades ago, in another reality. She would do the same tomorrow, without hesitation.

He nodded, impassive yet strangely vibrant.

''I did not have the protection of our mating bond before. If this is more than a mere remembrance revived by this encounter, I will be ready as I never was before; because of you, Thy'la.''

“Assuming that’s because we are far stronger together than apart, or is it because strong emotions are an anathema to the Talosians?” Rita asked.

''Both,'' he answered stoically.

A swell of pride at her husband’s words mingled with the strong protective streak she felt toward all of the people in her life. Though none as strongly as Sonak, of course. Mixed in was dopey love, as when he spoke to her thus it always melted her heart, mingled with some mild apprehension that Sonak was going to have to teach this reality’s Talosians not to mess with the Kolinahr. All of which was overlaid with relief at their mission having ended successfully, with Sonak returning to her whole and hearty once more, mingling with the anticipation of them having some time alone just to themselves.

If there was nothing that could be said about the human bride of the master of Gol, she was indeed deeply and passionately emotional to a fault, although that did not preclude her use of logic- the common ground that enabled them to function as a couple.

As they reached the storage unit to dispose of his EVA suit, he turned once more towards her, his face as stoic as ever.

''At this point, there is insufficient evidence to form even a hypothesis. The oneelement of which I can be certain, is that this experience strained my psionic perceptions. Rest, as prescribed by the doctor, is logical. Knowing you are safe, sound and nearby will greatly alleviate any distracting thoughts, enabling my full return to peak performance.''

Backing him into the harness, she insured the connections to the rack were secure before he 'cracked' the hardshell of the chestplate, which hinged at the shoulders and opened, the rack rising to remove it from his body. The system then extended a bench for him, so he could sit to remove the boots and leg hardpoints, as well as the shoulder and armguards of the lightweight yet quite durable Extra Vehicular Atmosphere suit. Kneeling down before him, Rita grasped the left boot and began to expertly assist his foot's escape from the pale blue armored confines. She had logged countless hours in the armored exploration suits, and had become quite adept with their removal.

"I like that they painted the hardpoints of the spacesuits. They were all the black of the hull, that light-absorbing stealth plating the first time I tried one of these suits on, and all I could think of was, 'We look like a pack of assassins'. That, combined with the heavy weaponry these things can carry... I painted mine gold, and apparently it caught on. At least now we look like Starfleet."

Looking up at him as she got his boot off and set it aside, she cocked her head slightly and grinned. "They sure are an improvement over our day."

''Basically, they never changed since the early days of space exploration,'' he reminded her. ''The advances in technology simply made them more efficient. There were even experiments with portable environmental shields in our days, if you recall. Seems the feel of some physical material between one and outer space is a psychological need as much as the breath converter themselves.''

Out of the suit and only dressed in the black coverall worn under the suit, he went to the replicator to get his uniform.

"I could certainly see that," she admitted. The earth girl who'd reached for the stars had always borne a fascination with the exterior of the starship, from her time as a warp ghost when she would sit atop the bridge and watch the stars slide by. Back in their own timeline, she had bonded with the Exeter by running on her hull while she was at spacedock at Lexington station under quarantine. Even today, she took runs every few days with Dox, running on the hulls of classic starships. Thus the concept of a helmet between one and the void of space was not one she found worrisome, somehow.

"I must admit, of the modern versions, I like that they are more durable and functional. I worry a lot less about a micrometeorite in one of these, to be certain. Have to say, the tricorder built into the helmet HUD really was quite the improvement. Remember trying to work a tricorder with those gloves on?" she laughed, shaking her head at the memory.

As he changed into his uniform, he expounded on his concept.

''Indeed. That the logic of why it took so long to make that technological leap is an interesting mystery. As you have possibly logged more hours in a spacesuit than anyone in Starfleet, you might be the ideal person to write a report on possible improvements.''

“You raise a valid point, Mr. Sonak. I suppose I should review the systems… although truth be told, I haven’t seen much room for improvement.” Watching the athletic kolinahr strip out of the pressure suit body glove and dress in his uniform was nothing new to the Earth girl, but she appreciated the sight nonetheless. Over the years she most definitely had not grown jaded nor weary to the lean athletic build of her mate. The sight still stirred her, which brought a smile to her face as she assisted, carrying the pressure suit to the reclamator to be recycled as he sped through getting dressed. A career in Starfleet had left them both to be methodical and speedy dressers, in particular when it came to donning their uniforms.

While many things had changed, Rita was also grateful that the uniforms had come more in line with their own era. When she had arrived, duty jackets had been added that were black and charcoal, and only the undershirt had been of the departmental colors of teal, red or gold. Not long after Sonak’s arrival, the new uniforms had been rolled out, which were a callback to their day, with the solid color tunics in departmental colors. To her eye, much like the space suits, it made Starfleet seem far less sinister and more welcoming and visible, and as her handsome husband pulled his uniform top on then zipped it up to the collar, she smiled, appreciating that despite how much the universe had changed, she and he still seemed to be constants. At least to some degree, in the ways that counted.

Clad in blue, it made him appear once more as the dashing first officer with whom she had risked it all for, and with whom she had fallen madly, deeply in love. She herself still wore the same uniform from those days, with a bit more rank on the sleeve and some pips added to the collar. Somehow she could not abide the modern crimson uniform, and the Captain obliged her. The universe had changed, and they adapted… but they were still who they were, and she was glad to see the consistency.

“So,” she asked as they stepped out of the hardsuit storage and back into the corridor, “Would you like some dinner, or would you prefer to rest first? We’re off duty for another 23 hours and change, so we’ve time. Well, I am, I think the doctor prescribed you 48…”

''Disobeying a medical order will put someone into trouble; possibly the ship herself if such neglect brings about errors in judgment or failed action,'' he stated flatly. ''That being said, a quiet dinner with one's mate is part of what is defined as rest, according to the standards of Starfleet duty. Therefore, I shall avail myself of this opportunity.''

Truth be told, Sonak was not hungry. As a Vulcan, he could go several weeks without food if need be; even more so if he entered a trance. But he knew he could not go anywhere that long without the woman of Earth ,with whom he had chosen to explore the wonders of existence.

And such a wonder that it has been so far; that she had been, always was... and always would be.

With a nod of his head, he invited her to lead the way.

Together, the most mundane of tasks became pleasing time spent together, in which both found fulfillment. They had made a meal together, falling easily into the old patterns established long ago which lent the interaction structure, not unlike a ritual which brought comfort to both of them. Afterward they had cleaned up the kitchen, the living room, the dining room and the bedroom with military efficiency, born once again of practice, while being so perfectly in synch with one another. As she shed her boots, she could toss them toward the closet, knowing he would redirect their momentum to insure they landed on target. He balled up and tossed his tunic onto her upraised arms as she was stripping off her minidress uniform.

They moved with economy and grace, in a dance whose steps only they knew. A dance of foreplay, which led to intimacy.

There were many different versions of physical intimacy which they practiced, including the occasional experiment. Tonight it was tender lovemaking- there was no urgency, no driving force. For her part, she had seen her hero fall, and had to save him from an alien world. There had been no hesitation, no fretting over his welfare, no distraction from the mission. It was a sound stratagem he had employed, which had enabled him to survive and protect her. When the mission was done, she knew how to revive him, as this too was not the her first time for such an encounter.

There was no great anxiety to be relieved, no emotional crisis to address. She was relieved that he was restored, and reunited with her. She wished to appreciate him, and as always, he obliged, and theirs was a tender encounter, there under the stars in their expansive quarters.

Sleep had come, for her, at least. The human act of slowing one's breathing and heart rate, to lose consciousness and delve in an uncontrolled tour of the subconscious was not the Vulcan way. Meditation and the contemplation of the deeper mysteries of the universe kept the Kolinahr well rested. Although occasionally he would accompany her into her dreams, reliving memories, or seeing the bizarre pastiche the subconscious could construct as the structure of a human dreamscape.

In the modern day, it was seldom that her dreams were nightmares anymore. The death of Arenara Telvan still haunted her, and likely always would. The spectre of her father still lived in enough of her memories to appear from time to time. But for the most part, the dreamscapes of Rita Paris were pleasant. Dreams of flying, of exploring worlds poured like sand castles of silica in her mind. Memories of adventures past, of comrades past and people who were no longer here, or now, never existed. Adventures with him, with others, and the nonsensical absurdities that could only be concocted by the human subconscious imagination.

Around 04:00 she woke, as usual, to relieve her bladder. Returning to bed, she wrapped herself around his athletic form. As he had no need to 'get comfortable', he usually lay on his back when she slept. This left him in the position most advantageous to defend himself- or it would, save that she was often curled possessively about him, like a dragon guarding it's hoard. Her head in the crook of his arm, her hand on his chest with her arm draped across him, her leg hiked up to his midsection. After returning to bed, she tended to assume this pose, or some variant thereof, to sleep the last hour and a half until she awoke.

With his higher body temperature and thrumming heartbeat, she was not unlike a contented lizard curled upon a hot rock.

Rock, paper, scissors, lizard, Sonak.

Years ago he had convinced her to abandon the obnoxious practice of an alarm clock, instead teaching her the remarkably simple technique of setting an internal alarm. So when she awoke, it was just the call from her higher brain function to the subconscious to return back to consciousness. As she woke, she rubbed her face, then ran her fingers through her shock of blonde hair. Yawning, she moved up slightly, feeling the warm skin of the alien male as she propped her chin on the back of her hand to gaze at him.

"So this morning, I have a question, he who is my husband," she grinned impishly at him from his chest as his grey eyes opened, piercing with their focus. "It is a logic puzzle that I cannot yet answer; thus I seek your application of logic to the matter, that I may gain wisdom."

This had been a most restful period for him; and most lively. Their finely tuned interactions in even the merest moments or mundane activity had turned their whole life together for him into what Earthers would call a tea ceremony. The simplest gesture or word became a thing of pure aesthetics, of fully living the moment, open to the entire spectrum of thought and perception. This was an experience beyond mere meditation and transcending the apparent routine, as any spontaneous new gesture or word could feel like the Big Bang of a whole new universe in which to exist.

it was an experience of awareness... of endless possibilities; and he owed it all to she who was his wife.

Her morning inquiry was but one new instance of it.

''Remember my wife; logic is the beginning of wisdom, not the end; and even less, the whole of it. You have the tool; but we can employ it together if you wish. Let us examine your puzzle.''

"So if the Talosians are potentially interfering, it is accepted fact that they can control perception of reality, to a degree unknown to most. At galactic ranges, no less. So, how can we know for certain that the reality that we currently perceive is not being influenced or generated by said being?" Phrasing was important- thus she chosen her words carefully, far more than merely leaving any emotion out of the question. Instead, in order to receive an appropriate answer, one had to appropriately frame the question. This was how the universe worked, after all, and the Kolinahr operated in much the same fashion.

''Through logic.''

It seemed almost like a non answer. But Sonak would not let it be so.

''It is a basic fact that, even if we exclude the Talosians or any such beings, we have no certainty of anything to be real... except one; that we exist, since we think. Your own philosopher Descartes stated it centuries ago. Everything we call reality, beyond that, is predicated to the extent of our own perceptions. I believe Humans refer to it as the 'brain in a vat' problem.''

This was, Rita understood, a thought-experiment most commonly used to illustrate global or Cartesian skepticism. It was predicated on the argument that if you cannot now be sure that you are not a brain in a vat, then you cannot rule out the possibility that all of your beliefs about the external world are false.

The analytical scientist paused to let that sink in. Then Sonak drove the point further.

''As was determined then, there is no way of knowing if we are even truly what we think we are and if anything we call real, truly is. Yet, in a sense, it becomes irrelevant. What we perceive is what we have to live with, and as such, it therefore IS reality to us. It is with our perceived reality we have to exist. Absolute reality may be forever beyond our understanding.''

Again, he paused as these were existential questions that were not easy to grasp.

"Even as reality for the flea is not the same perceived reality as that of the dog, although shared. Alright, I'm still with you on this," the human bride of the kolinahr grinned as she followed the trail of logic.

Difficult to grasp, but not impossible for his imaginative and creative mate, clearly. Then he proceeded to answer her precisely.

''There are things which may help, however, within this perceived reality, to determine if it is influenced by another mind;. This can be referenced to another of your philosophers, Sun Tzu, who once advised to 'know thy enemy'. We know the Talosians are isolated, and lack both creativity and imagination; hence why they captured other sentient species, to explore their lives and their dreams. Just as we entertain ourselves on a holodeck. They do not implant thoughts; they instead choose to employ what is already there. Thus, if we experience again something too familiar, like reliving our own subjective past, it may be a clue that something is wrong.''

Sensing it was coming, he countered her objection before she voiced it.

''The only exceptions to this were the incident involving the USS Enterprise a century ago, and our own experiences on the Exeter. But in both cases, these were conceived with the willing help of a non-Talosian mind; Spock and Tracy. There are, of course, other beings of powerful mentalities whom can also recreate a unique reality from such borrowed thoughts."

"That is what the Q do," he said, in a close approximation of a joke.

"But often then, it is the juxtaposition of incongruous familiar and unfamiliar elements which may have us question this perceived reality. Others can actually implant thoughts, as with Vulcans. But then, it is the empirical approach, particularly through the validation process through others, which can help separate what is real from what is not.''

"So you're saying that reaching out to others with basically a 'do you see what I see', along with watching for odd deja-vu of crewmen we haven't seen in years or we run into a scenario we've faced before, then we know they are messing with us. Okay, that makes sense," the experienced explorer expressed, her initial alarmed anxieties appeased. "So while we're watching for all of that, why do you think you experienced it in the first place? Any hypothesis after a night's mediation on it?"

''I would apply Ocam's Razor as you Humans put it; the answer with the least number of premises should be preferred. In this case, the experience simply revived the memory because of similarities. Since there is no motive for the Talosians or any such high mentalities to currently... mess with us, as you would colloquially say,. And nothing followed since our last incident, this would be the soundest hypothesis to consider. Unless and until further evidence appears... if ever.''

He looked at her directly.

''What would be your own thoughts on this, my wife?''

"Well, you provided the observations of what signs to look out for. You added that it seems highly unlikely that they are motivated to contact us, which is quite true. You admitted it might have been a flashback, and overall, a life living in paranoid questioning of reality sounds maddening. So, with all that said..." Reaching up to trace a circle on the chest of the sombre scientist, the pretty pilot tapped him gently on the nose. "I think, as of this morning, all is well in our reality, as I perceive it."

''I concur, '' he said, extending two fingers to her.

Levering herself up, she freed her hand from beneath her chin and his chest, and extended her own index and middle finger toward his, reaching for them delicately, almost hesitantly... tantalizing with their proximity. Then angling them about to slide provocatively up his second, then third metacarpal before settling into place, int he time-honored tradition of his people, their formalized and accepted form of intimacy, that bespoke volumes to those who understood such bonds.

Which the Earth girl happily adopted, and honored. Tradition lent structure, after all, which brought his ordered mind comfort and ease. Plus it held the intimacy of deep and passionate kissing. Which, while kissing was nice, the two fingers were a lot more hygienic, particularly in public. Sensation flowed through them both as their minds joined, the ritual heightening the bond they already shared through the considerable amount of skin to skin contact they were experiencing.

''You are my reality,'' he then said in his deep monotone voice. ''It may seem like an illogical statement, even an emotional one; but you know that it is a simple fact.''

"I do," she replied; touched by his words, and the fact that he spoke them aloud to her, because he knew she needed to hear such things. "You are my guiding star. No matter how far I roam, no matter where I end up... I always orient myself to you, to plot a course for home. As illogical as it may sound, you are the constant of my universe."

Sonak looked Rita straight in the eye.

''The delivery is emotional, but, considering the events which we have shared, the statement, in and of itself, is... quite logical.''

The memory resurfaced, so she chose to offer the quote she had once delivered to him, from her heart, which she had then discovered were not her own words, but those of an ancient Vulcan philosopher, known for her poetry which incorporated a unique blend of logic and emotionalism.

I love you as you are, and I will support the choices you make. I will remain beside you as long as I am able, and no matter how far you travel, nor how long you may live, you will always have my love within you... even if I have long since faded to memory. My mind to your mind, my thoughts to your thoughts, my heart to your heart, my soul to your soul. No matter what fate holds in store for me, there will always be some of you within me, to guide me through troubled times and insure I will never be alone. So within you, I will leave a bit of me… to soothe your soul, and remind you to take note of the wonders all around you.

The family quarters located on Deck 14 of the U.S.S. Hera were far more expansive than anything Briaar Gavarus or Fiona O'Dell had aver expected to have while serving in Starfleet. But then neither woman expected to fall in love, and they certainly never expected to find themselves instant parents. But there they were.

Over the course of just shy of a year, the two underachieving Ensigns met, having been forced together on the duty roster to work out the bugs on a series of retrofitted Romulan Scorpion fighters. The diminutive Fiona O'Dell was a test pilot, and a considerably good one at that, while the towering Tellarite, Briaar Gavarus, was an Engineer that had a penchant for irritating her co-workers. So, she had been reassigned to work on the flight deck and clean up after that department's Chief, who had her own bad habit of tinkering with the Runabouts and Shuttles.

On paper, nothing about these two said 'couple', and yet the more time they spent together drinking and partying and complaining, the more it started to become obvious to everyone around them that they had quickly become a couple. Ten months after meeting on the flight deck, the unlikely pair had become the Hera's most unlikely family with the legal adoption of the orphaned Minotaur baby, Minerva Carrot.

None of it was planned, but both women found themselves happily embracing their bizarre but fulfilling new life. Even if their now shared quarters still looked like where two bachelorette's had exploded. Crates full of engine parts and tools that had been beamed over from Briaar's old quarters were still stacked about in a haphazard way. The colorful, plastic habitrail for the family pet, a white Tribble named Cueball, was assembled along the main wall next to the entrance to the room. In truth, most of the mess was Briaar's, as Fiona's possessions were all neatly cataloged and displayed safely up and away from the prying, three-fingered grabby-hooves of little Minerva.

Harps and violas, accordions and ukuleles along with a rather small guitar lined the walls of their bedroom where, in spite of Minerva having a very sturdy crib in her own room, the family tended to sleep together bunched up in one, big bed.

Work had been completed for the evening and Briaar was in the living room, doing her level best to clean up the couch and small coffee table. Picking up some errant beer bottles that had been left about from last night's misadventures post Ten-Forward, the portly porcine was still in her deep blue Starfleet R&D uniform and looked a bit more anxious than usual.

"Fee!" The two-meter tall engineer said, her wiry platinum blonde hair frizzed out in a massive fro bobbing about as she searched through the couch cushions. "Have you seen any of my frickin' scrunchies?"

“Reclamator room, your side, top drawer, all the way in the back,” came the answer from the bedroom. While Gavarus was messy and often disorganized, Fiona was one for ‘everything in its place’. While this had led to the occasional tiff between the two, the orderly and the chaotic managed to compromise more often than not. After all, with a young child- no longer a baby and barely a toddler- in the house, keeping everything ‘just so’ was a herculean task, and one that O’Dell was only in so much mood to pout the effort forth. Besides, she had compromised quite a bit, as had Gavarus, in order to be in the relationship. Mutual respect and open lines of complaining seemed to do the trick for them to manage their differences.

Failing that, they got drunk and no longer argued. Which was perhaps not the best dynamic, but certainly not the worst.

Meanwhile, in the bedroom, Fiona had Minnie in a cute pink dress with a collar and cuffs that looked like something she might have worn as a child, save that at Minnie’s age, Fiona was nowhere near the Minotaur babe’s size. At the moment she was brushing out Minnie’s fur, which was surprisingly soft and soothing, as her hair was already in pigtails with bows that matched her dress. In truth, the brushing was quite enjoyed by Minnie, to whom it felt like love, and it would remain a staple of her life that when troubled, brushing her fur soothed her. But it also served as a calmative for Fiona.

The call today was from Mariposa, and it was her brother Duncan, the eldest, who wished to speak with her. As her father ‘s health had declined over the years, Duncan had assumed many of the clan leadership roles. Large, barrel-chested, hirsute and robust, Duncan was a bear of a man who had no compunctions using his size and mass to intimidate others. As the midget baby of the family, Fiona had been on the receiving end of such intimidations more than once, and to this day she tended to be nervous around those much larger than she, and particularly large angry humanoids.

Briaar Gavarus being the exception, of course.

But even she had been forced to confront Fiona over it, as the lack of trust had wounded her. Now it was quite seldom that Fiona would flinch or cower, but those moments were mostly born of the simple fact that as the smaller mammal Fiona often had to be quick to get out of the way, or Briaar might sit on part of her or step on a part or something to that effect.

Thus since Duncan had informed her that he would be calling about ‘family business’, Fiona was understandably nervous. For her part, Minerva didn’t understand much of the situation. But she could sense that her frail spitfire of a mother was nervous, and the tot leaned in against her to cuddle and moo quietly, trying her best to soothe her anxious parent. Which worked, as Fiona smiled and hugged the bovine, kissing her atop her furry head.

“Aye, twill be alreet. Yuir mom’s here, and we’re g’win ta have a nice little chin wag with my big brother, aye. So all ye hafta do is sit there and look adorable, which ye already do joost fine, aye?” Squeezing the furry bovine babe, Fiona then fluffed the dress a bit, then turned Minnie around to see herself in the mirror. “See? Lookit ye! Already pretty as a picture, aye? That’s mah wee bairn!”

Walking in, a bit heavier on her hooves than usual, Briaar was pulling her massive poof of hair into a wild ponytail while leaning down to check in the mirror. "Okay... that shit'll work. I'm not tryin' to date him. Okay, so this is Duncan, right? He's not the nice one that taught you how to fly, right? That was? Quentin?"

The edgy engineer asked, eyebrow cricked as she tried working through Fiona's expansive family tree in her head.

"Wallace taught me how ta fly. Quentin taught me how ta be a wingman. Duncan's... well, he's the big brother, the alpha dog. By the time I come along Da only had a few good years, then Duncan finally got his chance to be the big man o' the clan. He's yuir original big brother- ye've got one too, aye? Ye dinna come from all girls?" Aye, joost picture the eldest and make sure ye know he's in a dick swingin contest wi' the world, and ye've got Duncan to a T." Turning Minne slightly to face the anxious engineer, Fiona cleared her throat lightly. "But have ye seen what an adorable and well-behaved young lady we have with us for tonight's call?"

Somewhat distractedly, Briar turned from the mirror to the sight of Fiona presenting the adorably decked out Minerva who was smiling and bouncing up and down with excitement herself, all the while making a squeaky little mooing sound every time she did. Seeing the sight of the two people she cared for the most in this universe, Briar let a massive smile out and laughed, a throaty buy joyous sound. "HA! Oh my gods, look at you! Who's the absolute cuetest frickin' kidlette in this whole frickin' galaxy!?! That's a rhetorical ass question, 'cuz it's totally YOU! Yes, it is!"

Making grabby hands, Minnie waddled over to Briaar who scooped her up with a smile as the Minotaur child squealed with delight. "Oh, you look so cute. You're Mum did your little braids and put you in such an adorable... oh, you knocked this out of the park, Fee."

"Pish tosh, all I had ta do was put her Sunday best on her. She's adorable all by herself, our Miss Minnie Moo," Fiona declared as she tickled the sensitive spot behind Minnie's hooves. "Alreet, let's go see what Sir Fulla Hisself O'Dell has to say fuir himself..."

Once the call was established, the image came onscreen of Duncan O’Dell. He was a great bear of a man, as tall as Briaar Gavarus’ two-meter height, but far broader shouldered, with a barrel chest and big, muscular arms. While he was in his mid-fifties, his hair was greying at the temples, but his hair and beard were still dark brown, and he still appeared to be quite vital. Seated at a wooden desk that Fiona recognized as her father’s, Duncan was flanked by the Miraposa flag as well as the Bringloidi flag. While behind him a green, white and orange flag of Ireland was displayed, surrounded by a border of the green, gold and crimson of the O’Dell tartan that was in use in the Starfleet couple’s own decorating scheme.

As Fiona sat on the couch, with Minnie beside her and Briaar bookending the toddler, both were clad in their bright blue Starfleet R&D uniforms, while Minnie was in her Sunday best, as Fiona put it. Duncan was clad in a woolen buttoned shirt, with a waistcoat of the O’Dell plaid and while the trio of Hera dwellers were smiling and cheerful, his expression and demeanor most certainly were not. Particularly once he looked up and saw the family tableau arrayed onscreen.

“I called to talk to YOU, Fiona. Nooobody else. I made that QUITE clear in my letter, did I not?” Duncan scowled into the sensor.

“Aye, that ye did, me brother. And-“ Fiona began before he interrupted her.

“Laird. Ye’ll address me by me proper title,” Duncan held up his beefy fist, which bore the signet ring of her father- the symbol of leadership of Clan O’Dell.

“Ah, so ye finally talked Da into passing it along. Congratulations, Laird O’Dell,” Fiona observed without missing a beat.

“Aye, indeed. Now how about you clear the room so you and I kin have a serious conversation?” Duncan O’Dell replied, looking pointedly at Briaar and Minerva. “And before ye tell me innything I kin say to ye I kin say in front of them, I dinna think the same, and I’ll thankye to abide my wishes in this matter.”

Those bright emerald eyes of the little lass from Miraposa narrowed, and it was clear she was considering the request. While she held fast to tradition, she was also quite the rebel in her own way. But she suspected just what this little ‘chat’ was going to be about, and she was considering sparing Briaar and Minnie’s feelings by not letting them hear whatever venom her elevated eldest sibling was about to spew.

Looking down at her pint-sized partner than back up at the holographic representation of Fiona's brother, Briaar pursed her lips slightly and interjected. "Hey there. So, I'm Briaar. Or, ya' know, if we're doing titles and all, it's Ensign Gavarus. See, for us to pull off this kind of real-time communication like this, we have to schedule the whole dang ship to actually shop for a bit. Annnnnd, it ain't the easiest thing to manage, because the ship is always kinda doing important, galaxy saving shit and all."

Raising an eyebrow slightly, Briaar made sure to have a least one bottle of liquid courage in her before this particular call and she was feeling a bit looser. Nowhere near enough to even get her tipsy, but enough to relax her enough to talk. "So, since we're generally pretty busy with our work, what do you say we multi-task and get all the introductions and 'meet the family' moments out of the way while we're all available."

It was clear that the big man bristled at being spoken to thusly, and by the time Briaar finished speaking, the redness had crept up his neck, and his face was somewhat flushed with anger. “First off, ye’re nae kin ta me, swine. You nor yuir pet shaggy there. So how about ye shut right the-“

“Duncan Scott Meyer William Wallace O’Dell, dinna ye even think of finishin that sentence!” Fiona was on her feet, her own face turning rather red as she pointed a finger at the screen, only to be shouted down by the larger man, who was now on his feet as well.

“Or what, Fiona?" The big man opened his hands and spread his arms a bit. "Ye g’win ta gnaw me ankles off, or tell Dad on me? Ye may be the youngest, but yuir not a baby innymore, wee lass. Cross the head of the clan and ye know what kin happen. Now how about ye sit down, get rid of yuir little friends there-“

“Me partner and me daaahter, Duncan,” Fiona interrupted, her voice quiet but firm. Which in turn caused her eldest sibling to completely lost his temper.

“Partner and daughter? PARTNER AND DAUGHTER??! That’s a bloody pig and a cow, Fiona! Yuir lyin with livestock now? Bad enough ye were nae willin’ ta settle down with innyone local and heaven forBID ye should do yuir duty to your birthright and help stabilize the gene pool. But noooo, not our wee Fiona. She’s got ta piss off to the stars so she kin go feck a pig and raise a cow like a child? Fook is the matter with you, ye gombeen?!?” It was abundantly clear just how angry the big man was, and it was at this point that Fiona, still standing, her hands balled into trembling fists at her side, tears welling in her eyes, decided that while her partner and her daughter did not need to know many things in life, they were about to learn one she hoped Minnie would forget.

“Cover hear ears, Briaar,” Fiona growled in a voice like a chihuahua in a dogfight. “Now ye listen ta me, Duncan-“

“NAE I MOST CERTAINLY WILL NOT!” the big man bellowed. “I lead the clan. I am the eldest. I know better, I’ve seen more and I dinna piss off to the stars all because I couldnae get away from my responsibilities-“

“Yuir responsibilities? That’s fookin’ rich comin’ from the likes of ye,” Fiona fairly snarled. “What aboot Father Donald, aye?”

“Ye leave that poor priest oota this, Fiona. Ye and yuir accusations-“ Duncan growled, before Fiona shrieked at him like a banshee.

“ACCUSATIONS? He bloody molested me, ye hypocritical thick goabashite!” Fiona screamed at the screen “And the church covered it oop, and the family bloody let him, and I still had to see the bastard every damned Sunday and Wednesday fuir mass. On top of alla ye makin it oot to be me makin it oop. Then when I fookin proved it, ye blamed ME for it! Aye because 12 year old girls are allays criminal bloody masterminds hell-bent on destroying the reputations of honorable men! Clearly that was the answer since it couldn’t be that he was a fookin pervert who molested kids and ruined their fookin lives, ye muppet!”

"Oh gods, Fee, no..." Briaar gasped as she squeezed Minnie tighter and held out a hand for her partner.

Onscreen, it was clear that Duncan’s anger had settled into a cold rage, even as Fiona was shaking like a leaf, still on her feet, tears streaming down her face. “Why did Fiona piss off to the bloody stars? Maybe it was because I dinna ever want to have somebody touch me like that ever again for the rest of me bloody life! Maybe it was because havin’ to make dinner for me own bloody rapist wasn’t something I looked forward to once every three weeks! Maybe, joost maybe, it was because I wanted to go someplace where they wouldn’t call me the ‘girl who cried wolf’, because better to believe a pedophile than one of your own kith and kin.”

“Ye wanna know why I left, Duncan? It was so’s I’d nivvir have to see his fat smug face again, or hear the whispers behind me back. So’s you idjits would stop bringin boys around to try to paw me up and do nasty things to me. Maybe it was because I dinna want to be a fookin baby incubator ‘for the survival of our people’. Maybe it was joost to get away from you and yuir 'roughhousin', ye selfish prick.” By the end of her diatribe, Fiona was quieter, and it was clear that her anger was spent.

As loathing, rage and impotence snarled across his features, Duncan sat back. “I called to tell you Dad’s dead. That ye should come home for the funeral, because he asked for ye to do it, and for the will reading once we kin find it. But Dad’s nae head of the clan noow, and I am. So I’ll make it easy on ye.”

As Fiona sat down heavily on the couch, as if struck by a physical blow by the news, her brother pressed on, determined to have his say now that his feisty sibling had been silenced.

“Yuir banished, Fiona. Shunned by all and banished from our lands, nae more of our clan. Yuir name will be stricken from the rolls, and we’ll nae recognize ye should ye ever show yuir face. We canna force ye to change yuir name, but know we’ll disavow ye if innyone asks. As of this moment, yuir dead to us, Fiona.” With that, Duncan sat back, folding his hands together on the desk before him. “Have ye innything to say, or is that enough for ye?”

Making almost a purring sound, Minnie's eyes were wide and thick with tears as she clutched up to Fiona, who wrapped her arms protectively around the child, though her eyes never strayed from her brother's face. The minuscule Minotaur might not have understood what was said, but she did understand that her mum was upset, and wanted to help. For her part, Briaar patted their daughter on the head gently, but her own face was red and her eyes narrow as she ground her teeth. "She may not, but I sure as HELL do."

"Look at you? Big, tough badass who didn't stand up for your 12-year-old sister when she needed you. Kicking dirt and holding your breath until you turn blue, trying to show how in control you are." the Briaar stood up, fists clenched, "And as for our daughter, she sure as hell IS an O'Dell. Angus said so, and as far as I'm concerned, that's all I need to know. So if my partner and our daughter decide that we're coming there, then you can cry foul till you pass out, but I don't give a shit."

"Now you lissen here ye fat fook, I dinna care who you think ya are, but I'm a bluiddy Federation citizen!" Duncan rose from his chair to loom over the sensor to point his finger and bellow at Briaar Gavarus, even as Fiona flinched on the couch. As with Fiona, now that he was furious, his accent had come on full force, although every word was quite clear to Briaar Gavarus. "Ensign Troughcleaner's word doesna mean shite on Mariposa- yuir a nobody and I'm a community leader! if I say yuir nae welcome, ye piss right the fook off, shite fuir brains. Because Starfleet works for the Federation, not t'other way round. So yooo kin sit yuir fat piggy arse doown and shut right the fook oop, or I'll have words wi' yuir supervisor, aye? By way of me Federation representative. Stick that up yuir snout and smoke it, pigface!"

Glancing over her shoulder, Briar saw Fiona flinch and her eyes narrowed as her cheeks reddened. "Yeah, no. You looked the other way. She was HURT and you ignored her! Don't you f***ing DARE think you can talk to her like that! You wanna tell our Captain that you're denying her officer access to a Federation world? You wanna tell our Captain that you're not gonna let her new favorite pilot go to her frickin' father's funeral because she wouldn't be a frickin' baby factory for your effed up little bullshit colony?! You go right the f*** ahead, you hairy backwater Sasquatch-looking piece of shit!"

"You wanna open that shitstorm or should I, buddy? 'Cuz, frankly, I'm kinda looking forward to what she would say to you!" Then Briaar stepped closer to the screen and shouted. "Or maybe you can tell our Captain what you did to her when she was a kid? 'Cuz I'm looking at you... and you didn't just ignore her, you hurt her too, didn't you? That's why she flinches?"

"Briaar..." Fiona whispered, shaking her head as she literally had Minnie's ears covered. When she spoke, her voice quavered as tears rolled down her cheeks, her face a mixture of so many conflicting emotions. "The wee one shouldnae know of sooch things, aye?"

"I'll have yuir bloody ears for my dogs..." Duncan O'Dell snarled coldly to the angry Tellarite, before there was a sudden split-screen effect, and on half the screen was Captain Enalia Telvan. Briaar hadn't expected the Captain to be listening, and in truth, she was only hoping the woman that she and Fiona drank with and we only just starting to get a measure of, would intervene on their behalf.

"It seems I have business with you after all, Duncan... yadda yadda yadda... O'Dell," the Trill woman began, staring at a PaDD rather than sparing him a glance. "As Captain of the USS Hera, a request has been made for me to meet with you in person by a representative of the Federation Council regarding recent unsavory allegations. On top of that, as your communications are going over Starfleet systems, this automatically gives consent to monitoring."

Captain Telvan then dropped the PaDD and merely shifted her eyes towards the screen without moving any other muscles. "I was the one monitoring your call. Our time is precious and you have squandered much of it with your intolerance and hatred towards your own family. As a mother as well, this is most displeasing to me as I place family above all else, and I consider my crew to also be my family."

The spotted woman then leaned in a bit closer, punctuating her words carefully to make sure he caught her meaning. "In other words, the Federation for some reason have requested that we meet with you... And we're an intel starship that deal with the nastiest, darkest, scariest evils of the galaxy to make them go away so people like you can sleep comfortably at night thinking you've got the biggest... Whatever your race has for genitals. Do you understand your position?"

The eyes of the angry Irishman narrowed as he leaned into the sensor a bit. "Are ye threatenin' me, little lassie?"

Eyes wide, Briaar sat down on the couch on the other side of little Minnie, adding her own hands on top of Fiona's own to cover the miniature Minotaur's ears as she whispered, "Ooooohhhhhhhh shit."

Enalia leaned in as well, her eyes also narrowing as her prodigious bosom pressed against her desk to prove just how 'little' she was not. "I do not threaten, Community Leader O'Dell. I state facts. And the facts before you are that your representative on the Federation Council has routed a personal message to my desk asking me to move not only the top secret starship, and all the crew Starfleet has placed under my command, to investigate the circumstances surrounding your ascension to your current position... but to involve any other assets I may have at my disposal as well at my discretion."

“Wait… are ye sayin yuir g’win ta investigate ME?!?” the red-faced Miraposian hissed. “Ye think I had something to do with the death‘a me father? You little bi-“

“Duncan, dinna ye finish that word if ye value yuir manhood in any way shape or form,” Fiona O’Dell cut in. “Aye, ye wanted to smack the hornet’s nest, this is what happens. Ye may be the biggest swingin deck in town, but this is a big damn galaxy, and it sounds like yuir about to find that out the hard way. Noow, I am g’win ta ask you one time… once. I’m g’win ta give ye a chance to come clean, because ye’ve got the captain’s eye now, and the truth is GOING to come oot. Did…. Did ye have innything to do with Da’s… death?”

While she got the words out, it was obviously an effort for Fiona to verbalize the loss of her father, which she had learned of quite abruptly a moment ago. Now the fact that the Captain was explaining that an investigation was to take place, it roused her suspicions.

The response was less than she’d hoped for, sadly.

“How DARE you, runt!” the red-faced bear of a man roared. “I dinna answer ta you, yeh little bitch, nor yuir Starfleet nor yuir bloody meddling Captain. I’ll not have me honor impugned by such baseless accusations and perfidity. Ye’ll be hearing from me Federation representative alreet, and ye’d best be ready for an earful, the lot of ye!”

“Ah canna help but notice ye dinna deny it, Duncan,” Fiona stated flatly, then she turned back to the captain on split screen. “Captain?”

Without missing a beat, Enalia recomposed herself and picked her PaDD back up. "As per our request from Representative Father Kelly Duncan Doyle Walsh O'Reilly the Third..." Here she paused at the absurdity of the name before continuing on. "The USS Hera is to now make best speed towards Mariposa to investigate Community Leader O'Dell and the related administration for corruption, wrongdoing, and other illicit activities listed in addendum A."

The Trill captain then clicked at the PaDD multiple times, scrolling through the addendum, her eyes widening in mock surprise. "That is quite the lengthy addendum..."

Setting the PaDD back down, the spotted woman folded her hands together as if this were just another casual meeting. "Ensign O'Dell, at your leisure, please report to the bridge and set a course for your homeworld, warp factor nine point five. That should place our arrival time at around six days from now, I believe."

“Aye mum,” O’Dell nodded, her face a grim mask. “We’re done here.”

“We most certainly are NOT-“ was the shouted reply, before Fiona O’Dell cut the feed, ending the call prematurely. Turning back to her partner and her child, Fiona tried to summon up a brave smile, but failed miserably. Squeezing her furry bovine babe closely, she leaned into the tall Tellarite, unable to stifle her sobs. “At… at least he got to meet ye once…”

Looking down, the anger on Briaar's face evaporated into sympathy as she wrapped her thick arms around both Minnie and Fiona, both of whom were crying. For her part, the temperamental Tellarite was starting to let her own tears out in the moment. "Oh gods, Fee. Fee, I'm... I'm so sorry. I... I had no idea. I... I'm so sorry."

The young engineer wanted to hop into the Thunderchicken herself and fly there in advance and kick Duncan's ass in it. She wanted to rage and scream for the pain her love was feeling at everything that had just been said. She wanted to do something, but all she could do was to be there, to hold them both, and cry along with her patchwork family.

A family that was now minus one patriarch- a man who had seen the unusual life his daughter had chosen, and given his blessing to the odd little family. A family now in mourning, for the loss they had been dealt so casually.

While he didn’t realize it, Duncan O’Dell’s problems had only just begun.

Mariposa: Now.

Out by the southern edge of the lands William Angus Joseph Campbell O'Dell had staked as his claim when he had claimed a Mariposan bride and declared himself laird of their lands was where they'd buried their honored dead. That was the way of the Bringloidians, which they'd brought with them from the motherland, sweet Ireland. Celtic crosses topped stone monuments, and the rocky soil was uneven and lush, tufts of hearty long grass sprouting all about. Even now, in late autumn, the fields were brilliant emerald with life, and the wind carried the bleats and lows of the livestock in the distance.

A new, fresh marker stood amongst the rest, set evenly beside another marker, whose edges were also crisp and new, not yet worn from years of the wind and rain.

The day was beautiful- the clouds were high and distant for a change, and the wind whipped the hair into your eyes and the heat from your bones, but the sun warmed the skin, and brought the lands to life with dazzling color. By all rights, this should be a time of peace, and farewells. The small family of three gathered about the new monument, all clad in black; the women in veils, the tallest carrying an umbrella just in case the weather changed it's mind, as it was wont to do.

Standing there in her funeral dress, staring at the marker, all Fiona O'Dell could feel was empty. Because the marker meant nothing- it was not her father's final resting place.


Bringloidi tradition held that the family would display the body of the loved one in the family home. Wakes started with neighbor women washing the body of the deceased and preparing it to be laid out on a bed or a table, often in the largest room of the house. The body was covered in white linen adorned with black or white ribbons, or flowers for the body of a child. Candles were placed around the body.

Clay pipes, tobacco and snuff were also placed in the room. Every male caller was expected to take at least a puff. The smoke kept evil spirits from finding the deceased, after all. Usually, a pipe and tobacco were placed on a table next to the body. Occasionally, a pipe was laid on their chest. Clocks were stopped at the time of death. Mirrors were turned around or covered.

The body was never to be left unattended for the entire Wake, which occurred during the day. A person, generally one woman or more would sit nearby. On entrance, the mourner makes their way to the side of the body, kneels down and silently recites a few prayers for the departed soul. Mourners are then welcomed by the relatives and express their sympathy. “I’m sorry for your trouble”…then the mourner speaks kindly of the deceased and walks away. The mourner is offered food and drink for the hours spent at the Wake.

If the weather is good the men congregate outside – if not, they go to the kitchen (this is very important and traditional). The body is often in the parlor and there is a division between the room of the body and the celebration. The mourner stays for a few hours. The old men and women come in the morning and with the end of the working day others in the community stop in.

The Rosary is recited once or twice – at midnight and then towards morning, along with traditional prayers. Most visitors leave at midnight, but close neighbors remain until the morning. They drink tea, whisky or beer and share anecdotes with quiet laughter but within a solemn mood. There are two funerals; one in the evening, and the second is when the body is taken to the graveyard on the next day.

None of these traditions had been observed, and it made the entire funeral seem to be a hollow farce to Fiona.

Her father was dead. His final wish, to be laid to rest beside his wife who had preceded her, had not been respected. He had no traditional wake, as he had thrown for all of their kin who had died, including his dear wife. He'd had a few words spoken over a marker that was not where he lay, and the menfolk had gotten drunk while the women cooked. His body had not lain in state, to be visited and spoken to by the mourners, to give them the closure they needed. Instead, he had been cremated almost immediately, with no autopsy performed.

The funeral had been held days ago. Even with Captain Telvan pulling strings and flying the Hera at breakneck speed, Mariposa was so far out in the Beta quadrant that it was practically considered the Theta quadrant. In 143 hours of travel time, a lot had transpired on Mariposa... as well as on the USS Hera.


The U.S.S. Hera: 5 Days ago.


"Holy frickin' hell, Fee. This is nuts." Briaar Gavarus said, taking a larger than normal swig of her beer, as the two women sat at a corner table in 10-Forward, the U.S.S. Hera's main lounge. "At first I thought the Captain was just... I dunno... screwing with your asshole brother to make him sweat. But... But do you think... Could he have really... really killed your Dad to take his place as the head of the family?"

Out the long windows next to them, the stars streaked past in a prismatic display of color and light as the ship warped at high speed to Fiona O'Dell's homeworld of Mariposa.

Taking the bottle of beer from the big three-fingered hand of her porcine partner in crime, Fiona O'Dell upended the bottle, taking gulp after gulp of beer and backwash. A notorious lightweight, she would nurse a beer, sipping at it daintily over an hour to perhaps finish a quarter of it in an hour, and be absolutely snockered. It was clear in this case, she was aiming to get there considerably faster, and quite recklessly.

When Fiona turned the bottle down again, the miniature maiden belched, then handed the last swig back to the big pig. Turning those big green eyes up, there were tears in them, and sorrow. "Briaar? Me Da's dead, after I lost me mum but two months back. Two months ago I found out, when we talked, alla us, and he was s'happy for us, an'... now he's... he's..."

The little lass' face, usually home to a smile or a grin with mischief in her eyes, instead contorted in grief as an ugly cry took hold. "Ah prooomised 'im we'd coom ta visit... but not like this... tisnae... oh, Da..."

Putting the mostly empty bottle on the lit table, Briaar couldn't bear seeing Fiona like this, but she didn't know what to do or what to say. She was an engineer by trade, and she liked being able to fix things but here, all she could do was be there for her grieving partner as the minuscule Mariposian tried to process the impossible. Putting her thick arms around Fiona, Briaar did the only thing she could think to do, and pulled Fiona into a tight hug as her own eyes teared up. "Oh, Fee... Oh damn... I'm... I'm so sorry."

The usually rambunctious duo suddenly being morose was an unusual sight in the half-filled ship's lounge as the bartender and his server began whispering amongst themselves behind the bar, well out of earshot of even the sensitive ears of the towering Tellarite.

"What the hell do you think happened?" The pudgy, middle-aged human in charge of Ten-Forward whispered to his slightly smug-looking female, Bajoran server, who whispered her reply. "I have no idea, but if it gets them to shut up and not make my night harder, I'm all for it."

"Well, I'm sure that is the only consideration you need, then." Came a sharp and stern voice from the edge of the bar, as Jaeih Dox walked up to them, arms folded behind her back and unveiled disgust on her sharp, Romulan features. "What is occurring is none of your business, but if you wish it to become your business, then I would be pleased to oblige your curiosity. I assure you, though, you would not be pleased to have my attention in such a capacity, as it would mean attracting Lieutenant Commander Dox's unwanted attention, and then the Captains."

The bar manager's face went white and both people's eyes went wide at the words of the former intel agent who now word R&D blue, but was no less imposing a personage that they had no idea had been listening to their words. Not waiting for any reply, Jaeih simply turned towards the couple she was quite fond... and protective of... and made an order. "One ginger tea. One liter hot chocolate. Extra marshmallows. A cup of the same, 350 milliliters. An order of traditional Shepherd's pie. One bottle of synthehol Irish Scotch Whiskey in a very convincing bottle."

While the stern-faced Romulan spy who chose to work for the Federation was feared by many aboard the USS Hera, for any number of reasons, the odd couple of the midget and the pig were not amongst them. O'Dell had in particular sought out the tart-tongued matron and engaged her, which had impressed the woman. In getting to know the two troublemakers, she had been surprised to discover they were doting, attentive and capable parents to their adopted offspring. Additionally, while they gently jibed one another, it was clear they cared deeply for one another, and were protective of those who had a place in the hearts of the mismatched pair.

The first time she had seen it was when they were cheerfully willing to risk ending their Starfleet careers, all to protect the dignity and reputation of their chief, her feathered and warm-hearted daughter in law. Since then, she too had been welcomed into their odd family unit, and embraced as a grandparent figure, which had in truth been good practice for the triplets her daughter and her Miradonian daughter-in-law were expecting. Since then, she had found them to be skittish but braver than most, surprisingly responsible for alcoholics, abrasive to those whom they considered fools, but fiercely dedicated to those they considered friends and family.

As one of those whom had felt that welcoming way of theirs, she now saw one of them broken by grief, and leaning heavily upon the other. In truth, she found it heartbreaking- the little daredevil pilot was bright and cheerful and always at the ready with a joke or a quip, and it was clear she was the driving force in the relationship of equals. With her shattered, the little family would be crippled, grief making children of them all. This was something with which Jaeih Dox was familiar, and she knew how to deal with it. After all, Mrs. Dox loathed ignorance, so Jaieh had read up on the traditions of the Bringloidians, as well as the Irish from whom they had descended, and in whose traditions were still kept very much alive by one Fiona Mary Margaret Josephine O'Dell.

Thus she understood this part of the process of grieving for the heartbroken little leprechaun, and she would do her best to help with it... even though the Captain had already given her orders, and the investigation into the death of one Angus O'Dell had already begun, courtesy of one highly skilled and personally motivated ex Tal'Shiar agent. Jaieh Dox had few she considered friends, and the duo at the bar may have been fools and drunkards, but with good hearts. Whom had shown how much they cared for those around them time and again- including the Romulan matriarch, and her own bloodline.

Woe betide to those who reduced the happy drunks to sorrow and tears.

But justice and revenge would wait. For now, it was time to lend a shoulder and help the shattered heart of the tiny test pilot wring out her grief and loss.

As the bartender supplied her with a tray of the requested food and drinks with what seemed to be record time, Jaeih simply took it, paying the woman no further heed and quietly stepped over to the table. Placing the tray down attentively, the elder Romulan placed each drink and plate in front of the appropriate person and took a seat on the other side of Fiona, a bit closer than she usually sat. Taking a sip of the tea that Enalia had introduced her to, she spoke in a calm voice, "Miss Kodira is currently keeping an eye on Minerva, who is in the playroom with little Moira, being kept quite distracted for the moment, I assure you. I have given the young woman all of the required instructions for Minerva's proper care and she is in good hands for the evening, my dear."

Somewhere in the burly arms of the Tellarite came the sniffled response. "Thankye... muh-Mrs. Dox. I dinna... it'll upset Minnie too much ta see me like this, I dinna want her ta be.... she's too young fuir... "

That was all the little lass managed to get out before she returned to quiet, heartbroken sobs once more. The perennial good cheer of the Mariposian moppet was nowhere to be found on this day; shattered, she wept openly, wrapped in the arms of her thick-skinned suitor. "S'nae fair... we were g'win ta visit, we were, joost... but noow there's nae time, and Da's... Da's gone. Mum's gone and Da's gone and... we joost talked to him. I sent him a letter last week wi' holos of Minnie..."

"I have no words of wisdom to bestow here, my dear. I wish to Al'thindor that I did." Jaeih said, as she lightly ran a hand through the curly locks of the ginger pilot. It was a motion more gentle than anyone would have expected from the former hardened Intel agent. "I can say that from what you've told me, your father was quite taken with our little Minerva. And what I do know... because I may have already hacked into the Mariposian intel network and reviewed his personal communications... is that he accessed those holos you sent him a total of 23 times. 23 times he chose to look at them. Do not forget that, my dear. He clearly loved you and was quite taken with his new granddaughter."

Peering out from the protective embrace of her much larger partner, O'Dell's red-rimmed eyes sought out those of the Romulan woman who was both acting as nurse and nanny to three exceptional children on a regular basis, but doing so while designing their educational curriculum as well as their classroom. Which had been ordered to be designed as spaceworthy itself. All of this the woman was capable, as well as cracking into a planetary security system and seeking specific information.

Thus Fiona O'Dell knew better than to ask, but in her grief and oncoming rapid inebriation, she found herself saying it all the same.

"He... he did? That's... ach, that's... Is é do mhac do mhac inniú, ach is í d’iníon d’iníon go deo,, Da allays used to say. It means... well, tis s'posed to be an insult, aye?" In explaining, O'Dell peered out a bit more from the burly arms of the Tellarite she treasured, who sought to protect her even from her grief.

"It means 'Yuir son is your son today, but yuir daughter is yuir daaaghter f'rever'. The intention of the phrase is that the boys become men when they get married. Which, what a crock'a shite THAT was. Boot as a daughter gets older, she'll stay close to the family, drainin' it a'money an' trouble for years ta coom. Twas a joke me Dad allays had, because he knew I'd ne'er stay close. I'd nivvir be that girl if I could help it, an' he allays knew."

"23 times. Sentimental old bastard," O'Dell said ruefully, patting Gavarus on the boob. "He did... quite taken with her, he was. Said she looked like an O'Dell to him, not a Carrot. He claimed her as part 'a the clan, there and then." The rueful smile fought with the tears as the grieving girl started talking her way through it.

"Howzaboot ye pour me a few fingers a'that there fine bottle of what I suspect may joost be scotch, if ye would, mum. Yuir fingers, nae mine nor hers, though we might get ta that point a'the night if we dinna end oop in sickbay wi' me havin me stomach pumped." The joke was meant to be a bit of gallows humor, but it fell flat to the joker, whose face contorted with another wave of grief. "When did he... when did he pass, mum? If ye poked aboot do ye at least know when he... I dinna think it was last night somehow."

As Jaeih poured a small glass of the synthoholic scotch for the embattled young pilot whose eyes were as red as her hair, she replied first to the unasked question. "He did. And it was on holographic record and the Captain is prepared to use that recording of him claiming young Minerva as his granddaughter legally if she needs to. I believe an Artan legal aide is also on her way to rendezvous with us, but I cannot be certain."

Handing Fiona her drink, Jaeih nodded. "42 hours, I'm afraid. There was no autopsy. No investigation and... well, there is more... concerning his remains. Here, drink."

"Remains...?" Reaching out gingerly to take the drink carefully with both hands, the picayune pilot hiccuped, managing to not spill her drink in the process. Bringing it close, she sniffed at it- the scent reminding her of her father. As she snarled her way around that particular nugget of grief, Fiona tilted the glass up, taking a swallow and a mouthful of the drink, draining half of it. Sniffling, she nodded as she swished the liquor about in her mouth, savoring the burn that reminded her that she was alive, as she raised a glass to the dead.

"Indeed. I... I asked the Captain to allow me to be the one to inform you, but it appears that his body had been..." Jaeih looked up at Briaar for a moment, and unspoken glance to allow the Tellarite woman to be prepared. "He has been cremated. The records show that it was performed less than two hours after the call with your brother was ended. I am extremely sorry, my dear. I am aware of the funerary rites of your people."

The eyes of the little lass raised on traditional Brigloidian customs, which were just the old superstitious customs of the Irish from whence they had sprung, grew wide. Slowly setting down her drink, Fiona blinked rapidly.

"That... that's impossible. Da wanted a traditional burial. He told me in one of his letters, he wanted to be laid to rest in a plot beside Elizabeth Vallis O'Dell, me mum, passed on not two months ago. I thought twas morbid fuir him ta be thinkin' it but... that's... he would nivvir hae wanted that. Baastird fookin Dooncan!" Tears came again as O'Dell shook her mop of crimson curls and took another swig of whiskey. "Fook does he thinks he aboot? Da... cremated? Burnt ta ash, along wi' his ghost. Why Duncan? Fooksake... I can barely wrap me head around Mum AND Da bein' gone and now t'looks like Duncan is bein' a right proper coont?"

"I cannot tell you why this is happening, Fiona, my dear." Jaeih said, her voice softening a bit more as she looked down at the frantic red-heads swollen, emerald eyes, placing a hand on her knee. "But I can assure you I will find out. I swear it, you have my word. I will be accompanying you all down to the planet and I will be conducting an extremely through investigation."

The offer of vengeance would be welcome in time, but not at this fresh and raw stage. But even in her grief, Fiona recognized that for the angry Romulan matron, this WAS reassurance from her. Thinking about it, a sad smile came to the freckled face of the Mariposan moppet. "I wish ye couldha met him. I think ye and he woulda gotten along splendidly, and he'd appreciate that ye kin hold yuir liquor." Eyeing her own drink, Fiona tossed it down... far, far too much alcohol for her low tolerance to take, as she wrapped both her arms around one of Briaar Gavarus' arms and sobbed. The sad sound of a lost child who has lost her parents, never to be seen on these shores again.

"Mum was bad enoof, but not Da... not me Da too..."

Slowly, Jaeih pulled her hand back and noticed that it trembled ever so slightly as she looked at the tiny test pilot that she had become quite fond of. She was indeed angry, but in the moment, anger wasn't what Fiona O'Dell needed and Jaeih Dox wasn't sure she knew what else she could do. It was a feeling shared strongly by Briaar Gavarus, who could only hold her love tight and promise to not let go.

"Just... just cry, Fee. I got you... just cry." Briaar said, her thick arm enveloping her sobbing partner. "I got you."

Mariposa: Now.


A lovely church, a home for God
Bedecked with linen fine,
Where over the white Gospel page
The Gospel candles shine.

~St. Manchan of Offaly



Slowly, the unlikely family made their way across the green grass of the family cemetery. Plots with markers with many a name on them peppered the landscape as a cool breeze blew across them. Waddling hand in hand with her mothers, little Minerva didn't fully understand what was wrong. She simply knew her mothers were sadder than she had ever seen them and that made her sad. So she shuffled her tiny hooves as they worked their way to the simple stone church on the edge of the property.

It wasn't overly ostentatious, with few of the ornate trappings of similar Catholic churches back on Earth, but it served its purpose. Or, at least, it would have had Angus O'Dell been buried properly as he had wished. Stepping up the short, stone steps, Fiona O'Dell had questions and she wanted answers. And the priest inside was the last place she was going to go for answers… but this trip was all about a lot of things she didn’t want to do, yet was doing so for her family.

For her father and mother, and the spirit in which they raised her, she amended.

Entering the iron bound oaken doors into the small church which could likely seat 60 parishioners at best, the pews were all orderly, the stained glass windows depicting the various stations of the cross were there in all their glory, and up at the front of the church were the three steps up to the alter, one to represent the Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost. A crimson cloth was laid across the altar, and while it was flanked by smoking incense braziers on both sides, seated atop the center of the altar was a rather large and ostentatious cross, even while another one adorned the back wall, the image of a lean bearded human with haggard sad eyes nailed to a crucifix looked out mournfully at those who entered.

“Allays cheerful,” Fiona muttered as she helped Minnie over the threshold. Leaving Briaar and Minnie to take seats in the rear pews, Fiona made her way to the front of the church. “Halloo the church? Innyone aboot?”

To her surprise, a middle-aged clergyman, dressed all in black save for the tab of white at the collar, stepped out of the back, and her eyes lit up. “MALCOLM?!?”

“Well, we take a new name when we join the priesthood, Fee, so these days I’m Father Thomas,” he explained, even as he was tackled in a hug by the diminutive daredevil. “Briaar, come bring Minnie. Tisn’t who I expected at all, tis me own brother!”

Having expected to have to face an old priest with whom she had decidedly bad blood, Fiona had been dreading this confrontation. But in the here and now, finding the youngest of her brothers minding the church was a delightful surprise, and a load off her mind. “So what happened to the drunken bastard who the diocese refused to retire?”

“Father Donald had a heart attack about a month or so ago, and he was called home,” Father Thomas explained quietly as Briaar and Minnie approached. His own brogue was barely a lilt, less than Fiona managed on her best day. “So I was called in to hold the parish until a new priest is permanently assigned to this chapel. So who are these two, then?”

More than a little self-conscious at the sound that their two sets of hooves made as they echoed through the stone and wood structure with a repetitive 'click-clack', Briaar led little Minnie by the hand. Although seeing the happiness on her Mum's face and hearing joy in her Mum's voice created much the same in the miniature Minotaur who had begun to smile and giggle as she started to pull on Briaar to go faster. And even for as little as she was, she was getting strong enough to notice when she pulled, which surprised the two-meter tall Tellarite.

"Whoa there, little Minnie Moo! Don't pull my arm off here." Briaar chuckled as she picked up the pace to meet Fiona and Father Thomas at the front of the church. Unable to contain herself, Minnie yanked her little, three-fingered hand free of Briaar's and wrapped her arms around Fiona, making that familiar sound that was somewhere between a cow's moo and a cat's purr as she squeaked out, "MUM!"

"Uh, hey there. So... uh... the little wriggler is Minerva. And I'm Briaar. Briaar Gavarus. I'm... uh..." Suddenly realizing they were a lesbian, inter/species couple with an adopted magical minotaur child in a VERY Catholic church, Briaar blushed slightly and grinned awkwardly. "I'm Fiona's partner. And Minnie here... Minnie's our little girl."

This brought a smile to the face of the young handsome man, perhaps in his late thirties or early forties. Grey had not yet moved in yet, and his hair was still the same peat brown color as his eyes, and his somewhat lighter neatly trimmed beard. His white teeth were uneven, but his smile was genuine as he squatted down to Minnie’s level. “Aye… Dad was quite excited by your little family here, Fiona. Hello, Miss Minerva O’Dell. I’m Father Thomas… I’m your mum’s brother, which makes me your uncle. It’s very nice to meet you.”

Watching the black-clad clergy approach, Minnie was a bit shy about him. But as he spoke, she looked up at her redheaded mum, who nodded and smiled, confirming what the priest had said to her. With a shy smile, she detached herself from her mother’s legs, and slowly stepped forward, until she stepped in and hugged the catholic priest, who seemed to be in no hurry to condemn her.

“Oh my, such a big girl!” Father Thomas remarked as he hugged the small furry babe, patting her back before holding her out from himself a bit to get a good look at her. “And so pretty, look at you! Pretty as the heather on the lochs in bloom in springtime, aye?” Looking up to Fiona and Briaar in turn, Minnie moved back in for the hug again, and he accepted it from the affectionate child. Picking her up as he stood, with a surprised grunt of exertion, he supported the hefty toddler as she clung to him.

“After your call a few months back, Dad went on and on. He was so proud of you, Fiona… a family and a career. He said he’d seen the same fire in your eyes that Mum had when she was defending her boys when you talked about these two.” Shifting Minnie’s weight to free up a hand, he held it out to Briaar. “Hello, Briaar. I’m Father Thomas, and I suppose in a familial sense, I’m your… ah, unwed, are we? Alright, partner it is. I’m Fiona’s older brother… it’s nice to meet you.”

The lack of judgment and condemnation from the staunchly conservative religion's representative was confusing, to say the least.

Taking the offered hand, Briaar returned the shake. "Yeah. Nice to meet you too, which... I gotta admit is kinda a surprise, all things considered. No offense. I mean, generally the first reaction I get from everyone who hears Fee an' me are a couple is for them to look at her an' say something like 'but she's a pig!?'."

That got her a deep-throated chuckle from the clergyman. “Well, I will admit the thought was there. But Dad was actually pretty clear about how he wanted you two treated… he said you’d be coming home soon, and he was dead excited about it. He said ‘Fiona’s girl’s to be treated as inny other suitorrr, unless they get married, in which case she’ll be treated like an in-law. As fuir wee Minerva, she’s one of ours, and she’ll be treated like inny of the grandbabies, and I’ll her n’more of it!’ You know how he… was.” While he had done a dead-on impression of the old man, at the end, stumbling over the remembrance of his recently deceased father, the priest fought to hold back tears, until his wee sister stepped over to hug him.

“I know, Malcom… I know. Da was allays lookin oot fuir me…. Nice to know he was lookin oot for me family as well. Ah joost… we were coming, ye know? We joost…” Fiona’s words trailed off as they both shed a few ears for the patriarch of their clan, as Minnie traced the tracks of the tears on the rugged face.

It was clear to Briaar that whatever Duncan O'Dell might have said to them about Fiona being 'Banished', Malcom... or Father Thomas... clearly didn't share those feelings. It made the portly porcine happy to see as she stood on the periphery awkwardly.

"I mean... the Church has come a long ways, but... they still don't recognize a lot of relationships," Father Thomas admitted. "But I have my doubts about just what should and shouldn't be allowed in a book that was written as an inspirational guide centuries before we even knew there was life out there amongst the stars, aye?" Looking at Minerva, who smiled and giggled before kissing the priest on the cheek, the priest's eyes warmed. "But I can't imagine that He didn't mean for His word to include all of His children... right, Miss Minerva?"

The collared clergyman grinned at that, and Minnie clapped and squealed, even as he lowered her to the floor, tugging down her dress and making her presentable as he did so. "You are quite the handful, little one. I see why Da was so taken with her- she really is adorable."

"Aye... she's a special one, she is." Sitting down in a pew, Fiona patted the seat beside her, and Minnie toddled over to start clambering up onto the wooden bench. Then she patted the other side, looking up at Briaar. "Coom an' sit, love. Mal- Father Thomas isnae g'win cast us oot."

"Well..." Briaar sat, her prodigious paunch causing the old wooden pew to groan in protest at her weight. "He can try, buy he'll need a grav-sled. Still... I can't imagine you going against your big brother's wishes is going to go over good at the next family reunion?"

"I'm a priest. I don't answer to the laws of men, so I don't have to listen to the 'Laird of the O'Dell's'. This is church ground- the cemetery and the chapel too. He can try to banish you from his own household, but he holds no sway in the house of God. Besides," reaching over to tousle Fiona mop of unruly crimson curls, the padre grinned mischievously. "We're the closest in age, Fee and me. Only seven years apart. Dad thought he was done having children, but then the Exodus, and the Mariposan bride dowry, and he was at it again."

"Fiona was the only one, though. So much went wrong when Elisabeth Vallis was pregnant, and wee Fiona had to struggle so hard to cling to life for so much of her infancy." Shaking his head, the priest smiled ruefully. "She and Dad stopped trying after little miss here, and they weren't alone. There's not many who tried past one with the original colonists. The next generation, wrought from our influx of genetic material, made the Mariposans much more viable, and our societies have grown as a result. The generation after Fiona's will be a great one, we hope. Not that you aren't... Fee, what's wrong?"

Being here, in this place, being reminded of how sickly she had been as a child, of the times she had spent here, on her knees, uncomfortably praying, and praying for escape. Of how powerless and hopeless it had made her feel, and how sick what she had done in this place still made her. Bolting up from the pew, her face ashen, Fiona vaulted off the bench and bolted for the door.

Looking back to Father Thomas, Briaar scooped up the now confused Minnie as her expression shifted to a more upset one. "Crap. Well, the last asshole that was in here didn't answer to the laws of men either, and Fee suffered for it. Duncan's basically a piece of shit. Where were you when that all went down, Tommy?" As she spoke, the towering Tellarite bolted up and followed after her love, not waiting for an answer from the priest.

Behind her, the handsome priest’s eyes saddened, and he turned toward the altar, lowered himself to his knees, and began to pray.

Outside, Fiona O’Dell was also on her knees, in the lush emerald grass, her hair blowing in her face as her small hands dug into the earth as she wrestled with her emotions. Finally, in pure frustration and rage, she screamed at the sky. She screamed in frustration over the past that could not be changed. She screamed in guilt over not being there for her father, and for not getting here to let him meet her family in person before it was too late. She screamed in her grief, the loss of both parents in such a short time tearing at her heart. She screamed over the violations she had known that her family had swept aside, and of the unfairness of it all.

Screaming her rage and pain and hurt at the sky, Fiona let it out until she was hoarse, left sobbing on the ground as the cold winds whipped about her. Until the three-fingered hand the size of her head had settled on her back, so was unaware of her family there beside her, even as her furry daughter embraced her, hugging her with a surprising strength. It was as if she thought she might be able to squeeze the sadness from her pixie parent, even as she sobbed and worked to compose herself.

Kneeling at Fiona's side, Briaar simply ran her calloused hand down Fiona’s back, sniffling back her own tears as she leaned in close to the two people that were the most important to her in the universe. It tore her heart out to not be able to do more in the moment, as her engineer's instincts simply wanted to know how to fix things. But there was no simple fix for a shattered heart. Instead, there was love, and the tiny hand of a furry little minotaur who looked up and put her hand on Fiona's cheeks.

With tears in her own big, brown eyes, little Minnie looked deep into her mother's own tear-filled eyes and bit her bottom lip as she did something slightly unexpected and said a little more than the single words she had managed up until now. "No... no sad mum. No sad."

Despite herself, the grief-stricken woman couldn’t help but smile at her daughter. From what she had read, Minotaurs were Zeus’ revenge on the universe, his mutant offspring that Hera had once weaponized in her rage and fury at her husband and the galaxy. But in little Minerva, there was no evil, no malice, no rage. Instead, the bouncing bovine babe was all heart and care, her gentle nature a reflection not of her birthright, but of the loving environment which was all she had known for her entire life. That of the two mismatched aliens who had raised her as their own, their hearts filled with love for one another, and perhaps twice as much for their wee mutant child.

“Sorry, mah wee one. Mum’s joost… well, sad, that’s all. I’ll be alreet, I promise.” Scooping up the furry child in a hug, Fiona patted her back reassuringly as she strove to dry her eyes and put on a brave face. Looking up at her concerned partner, Fiona managed a wry smile. “I suppose we should go get kicked oot of the big house next, eh?”

"That we ain't doin' alone. I think the Captain and Paris are on their way to meet us there." Briaar said, helping Fiona to her feet with Minnie in her arms, which was no easy feat for the miniature Mariposian. "Between them and us, That's a lot of very insistent assholes for him to try and kick out."

Then: USS Hera

The day had inadvertently turned sour for them, and between the tears and the rage and the buckets of tears shed, the odd little family were all exhausted. Minnie had become cranky, so they had fed her an extra bottle of oatmeal moosh, which weighed heavily on her tummy and put the fussy child down for the night. Knowing she would be upset if she woke in her own room, Briaar just put her to bed on their bed, as all of them tended to sleep better that way. Thus as the two of them prepared for bed, the subject on the mind of Briaar Gavarus simply would not be silenced.

Tossing her tear-soaked uniform into the refresher, Briaar moved quietly as she grabbed one of her more comfortable nightshirts and pulled it on while Fiona was over at her own dresser. Swallowing, the tired Tellarite turned and took a breath as she spoke quietly, so as not to wake little Minnie. "Fee. I'm... I'm so sorry. I am, but... what happened? What... what did your brother do to you."

"I know he looked the other way when that effed up priest... gods, I can't even process that without wanting to scream. But... Duncan. What did he do. I saw how he made you flinch."

Under ordinary circumstances, Fiona would have changed the subject, or found some other way to avoid the subject. But it seemed her family’s dirty laundry as getting aired out publicly, so better to fill in the blanks than letting the imagination do so. Besides, it was Briaar- her best friend, her partner in crime, and the tall Tellarite to whom she had given her heart, whom she trusted like no other. Her friend, her partner, and her protector, who spent every night insuring that Fiona felt safe, so she could sleep soundly.

To not tell her would be to do the large leviathan a disservice, which the little leprechaun could not bear to inflict. Sighing, she pulled on one of Briaar’s pink t-shirts that read ‘Pulled Pork since 57045.4’, and clambered into bed.

“Alreet… alreet. Ye deserve ta know, I suppose.” Staring at her hands in her lap, Fiona spoke quietly, relaying the tale as best she could. “So… aye. Father Donald… he was the family priest, and he tended to the flock. Not a huge congregation, ye know, but a few families other’n ours. He… well, we kin joost kinda… ye know what he did, I’m guessin. Seems it’s an old story, accordin' to Starfleet psych. I think… I think he did a lot of that sorta thing with me brothers growin up? I dinna ken, because… well.”

Stepping over to their bed, Briaar got in it as gently as she could. Little Minerva was curled up in the center making tiny mooing sounds as she snored and instinctively scooched up next to Fiona in her sleep. As she did, Briaar put her arm around her pint-sized partner, resting her hand on the small of Fiona' back.

“When it happened, at first I joost…. hid. I felt s’dirty, like I had done something wrong, and it hurt, and I…” Fiona’s chin wrinkled as she steeled herself to continue, the memories hard for her to manage. “Mum took me to the doctor and they patched me oop, and the doctors explained what had happened to me mum. Who brought me home to me Da, and there was a row aboot it. And while me folks were arguin, Duncan, Donalbane and Fergus all cornered me aboot it.”

“They said… they said I was lyin. That I was makin oop stories, to hurt the reputation of a good man. I was twelve, for fooksakes! Who’s a bloody genius at destroyin lives at 12, aye?” Shaking her head, Fiona continued. “When I wouldnae change me story, they warned me they’d beat it oota me. Now, Mum and da, they spanked me a little growin oop. Like ye do wi’ kids when they misbehave a little, aye? But me brothers… they had nivvir laid a hand on me. Not in anger, y’ken?”

As the story continued, Fiona could feel Briaar tense up ever so slightly and the temperamental Tellarite was clenching her jaw as she thought of the man she had seen on that screen laying his hands on little Fiona. But she kept her anger to herself and simply ran her hand gently up and down Fiona's arm trying to be as physically comforting as possible in the moment.

“But this time…. Duncan was the eldest, he’d a’been… late twenties, aye? Fergus, he was aboot twenty, Donalbane maybe twenty-five. So grown men all, and… well, me brothers, they’re… well, big men. None of ‘em are less than 185 centimeters, ye know. Even after the Great Exodus, when we came to Mariposa, they still worked the land with their hands, and they were, ye know, big. Muscular, broad-shouldered. Now me,” Fiona pulled back her sleeve to revel her pipe-cleaner slender arm. “I was barely over a meter at that age. What? I was allays small. I was, ah, sickly a lot as a wee one, not healthy like our Minnie here. So I grew very slow, and… well, I was allays tiny. So when I told what the priest had done, Duncan, Donalbane and Fergus, they…”

Jaw muscles working, it was clear that dredging up the memory was painful for her, and that Fiona was struggling to continue.

Pulling Fiona in tighter, Briaar's cheeks were flushed red and she was almost twitching herself as she did her level-best to be as supportive as she could. "It's okay, Fee. Just... it's okay. You're here. You're safe. And I won't let anything hurt you. I got you. It's okay."

“They… they slapped me around, all of ‘em takin turns, tellin me I was a liar, tellin me I shouldnae be sayin sooch things, tellin me there’d be worse for me if I dinna keep it to meself. I tried fightin' back, o'course, scratchin' an' bitin where I could, but... bigger. After they’d finished, it wasnae finished, though. I wouldnae shut oop… I’s stubborn, even then,” Fiona chuckled as she clung to the fleshy arm about her that made her feel safe and protected in this vulnerable moment.

“So they started ambushing me around the house, when I’d least expect it. Slapping me upside the head at harp practice, kicking me in the pants in the halls… they called it ‘rough housin’ because the boys all messed aboot with one another like that. It kept up for months and months, until.... well.”

“This part’s the embarrasin’ part, but… Mum wouldnae stand up for me. Da dinna understand… I think hee dinna want to believe me, because he’d known Father Donald alla his life. By the time months had passed and they started callin me the girl who cried wolf, it dinna look like it was ivvir g’win ta stop. Every time one of me brothers got too close, I expected ‘em to hit me, openly or sneaky. I started flinchin’ all the time, losin weight, and I was joost… scared, all the time. So I… I went to the chapel, with a razor. I dinna know if it was true, but…. Suicides go to Hell, and I was afraid of that too… but I was more afraid of livin in fear for the rest of me life.”

“Malcolm was the one who found me, and he probably saved me life. After that, I dunno what changed, but me brothers… well, those three, at least… they stopped houndin' me, but they wouldnae speak to me innymore, either. When I finally turned eighteen, I called in a favor from some bigwig captain who’d left behind a cousin he nivvir knew aboot wi’ me Aunt Brenna, and I got to be the first Mariposan to join Starfleet.” With her confessional complete, Fiona was silent for a few seconds, then she spoke again, her voice barely above a whisper.

“They covered it oop… all of it. Father Donald,, me brothers, me little ‘dramatic attempt’… twasnae me fault it dinna work, I tried me best. But they covered it oop, and Starfleet couldn’t know or they would nivvir hae let me in. So that’s me deep dark secret, Briaar. That’s why I get… well, it’s why I get nervous around folks bigger’n me. I know, I know, ye’d nivvir hurt me, and I know it hurts ye to see me that way, joost… s’a hard habit ta break, eye? I’m small and frail and I try to be brave, but… s’hard sometimes, ye ken?” At that Fiona sniffled, all the dredged up memories settling in on her like a crushing weight as she tightly hugged the arm wrapped about her.

"Bad habits suck, Fee honey. I know." Briaar whispered, squeezing her just a little tighter as she did. "I used to have a real bad habit of believing that nobody would ever love me. But you got me over that one. I'm here. I'll be here. I'll help you get over this one. Every single day of my life, I frickin' swear it, Fee. I love you."

There was a slight pause, as Fiona traced her finger along the burly arm that held her. “I know, Briaar. I know ye do, and… I wish I could give ye more, y’know? But… I’m nae wired that way, I guess. Ah do love yeh, though, and I wouldnae trade our lives together for innything. Ah wish I was more of… what ye like, or more into that sorta thing but… ye make me feel safe. Ye did from the first time we passed oot drunk together, and I canna imagine me life without ye. Honestly, I keep worryin that yuir g’win ta wake oop one day and realize ye wasted the best years of yer life on a wee midget fuir no sex.” That particularly self-deprecating statement was followed by a rueful chuckle.

"I know, I know..." Fiona patted the bristly hairs on the forearm of the space swine, stroking them gently. "Joost... sometimes tis hard to make the little voices that say sooch things ta quiet down, aye?"

"Well, if you know what I'm gonna say, then I don't hafta say it, now do I?" Briaar said as she leaned her head down over Fiona's. "Fee. You make me... happy. Happier than I even thought was possible. I've got you. We've got Minnie. Hell, that creepy Klingon gypsy lady showed us our maybe future. And... And it looked like a really good one. One where we did right by Minnie and were legit happy together. There ain't nothing that nobody can give me better then that."

Turning in the embrace, Fiona curled up a bit against the warm embrace of her partner. "Ye've a good heart, Briaar Gavarus. I'm damned lucky to have ye. Plus ye proved our first night together ye kin carry me home when I'm drunk, so I knew I should keep ye." Pulling back a bit so she could see the eyes of the swine around her snout, the midget grinned up at the larger mammal, though her eyes held not mischief, but an odd sort of adoration.

"Aye... a good life, wi' our wee one here is more than I ever figgered I'd get in me time in the universe. So I'm content, and where life takes us, we'll go t'gether. Which... includes goin' home." Sadness moved in on her again at the reminder that her father was gone, and that her brother was a cretin who she'd be facing in six day's time.

But she would be doing so with Briaar and Minnie. Duncan, fool that he was, had gone and pissed off the Pirate Queen, who was busily making arrangements to smack him with the Starfleet rulebook.

So ready or not, Captain Herself and Commander Blondie would likely bedevil her family once they made planetfall.

Mariposa: Now


"The bloody hell d'ye think yuir dooin on mah properrrty?!?"

Standing as rigid as she ever did as Queen of the Artans and dressed in her Starfleet diplomatic whites, Captain Enalia Telvan offered Duncan O'Dell a PaDD with her orders. "Pursuant to the investigation opened by the Federation council and the request for my personal involvement, I am here to ensure the thorough investigation of the deaths of both the late Mr. and Mrs O'Dell, as well as several other illicit allegations into the O'Dell household over recent years."

The Trill captain then motioned to the women surrounding her. "My First Officer and Security Chief, as well as my retinue of Security Officers will do their utmost to refrain from disrupting the daily operations of you and your household with this investigation." Behind her were likely three of the largest women seen outside of a coliseum, yet they served on the Hera as Security.

"Yuir orders are piss all ta me! Yuir nae the law here, and ye dinna have inny right ta be on me property, in me house or breathin' me air. Now howzaboot ye take yuir floozy there and yer trained gorillas and fook off in any random direction from here, y'ken?" While O'Dell's brogue deepened a bit when she was stressed, excited or drunk, she came nowhere near this level of unintelligibility as the red-faced, balding, heavyset humanoid bellowed and spat.

"Uh..."

"Honor demands-"

"Belay that and stand down, the lot of you!" the Commander said to the Security officers in a hissed whisper as they began to respond to the local's insult. Holding out a restraining hand, Paris also held up one index finger- a sign to the trio of security officers to wait for it. After all, the Captain was being polite so far, and the show was only getting started.

"I've also brought along my personal lawyer," Enalia added, motioning towards the sixth member of the group who somehow managed to hide behind the larger security types, who was dressed in royal Artan livery. "As I am also affiliated with the Artan Empire, I asked for Miss Dana Nyn to be present to go over the legalities of the investigation as well. Miss Nyn?"

With a condescending smile and a slight bow of her head, the short Trill woman pulled out what appeared to be a scroll, unrolled it, and began looking it over while speaking. "I have reviewed all the pertinent documents and I'm afraid that the good Captain is correct, Laird O'Dell. She has every right to be here, and the orders given to her by the Federation council to investigate you overrule any orders you may give her, her crew, or anyone under her command during the execution of said investigation pursuant to Federation regulation 2398 section 13 subsection 9."

Snapping her scroll shut suddenly, Dana looked up at the man stoically. "In other words, Captain Telvan is now the law here, by order of Federation treaty law, until the investigation is concluded to the Federation's satisfaction. Any resistance of such, she has within her full authority to arrest you on the spot, and anything you say or do will be held against you in an intergalactic court of law."

"Because?" asked Paris as if she were holding a class, and the largest lummox in the back spoke up.

"Oooh! For attempting to impede a lawful investigation!" the big mountain of muscle in the back volunteered, to whit the buxom bombshell in the gold slut dress nodded approvingly.

"Correct Miss Jablonski." Paris nodded with a smile before turning to eye the tall Klingon in the gold uniform beside her. "Miss V'Nus, would you care to elaborate on the next step of the investigation as it stands, in anticipation of the Captain's orders?"

The taller of the two Klingon women's expression didn't change, keeping her eyes on the burly human standing in the doorway at the top of the steps as she answered the question. "While it is in the Captain's purview to institute any steps she so chooses, protocol generally states that the first step in such an investigation would be the... interviews... with those the investigation is centered on. In this case, Laird Duncan O'Dell."

The feral looking woman drawled out the pronunciation of the ostentatious and, to her, meaningless title of 'Laird' for effect.

"Incorrect, Miss V'Nus. I'm surprised," Paris admitted. "Miss S'Rina, would you care to take a guess?"

"Detailed scans of the scene and grounds, examination of any evidence and autopsies if possible, scans if not," the other Klingon petty officer growled, while Paris nodded approvingly.

"Just so, Petty Officer. With that said," Paris carried on, turning the teaching moment into a plan of action. "You all have tricorders and you all know how to use them. Spread out, cover more ground. Miss V'Nus, you intensify in the master bathroom and bedroom, the scenes of both deaths. Jablonski, take the grounds, S'Rina, scan the house. That includes anyone you encounter. remember ladies, polite and professional to the citizenry, firm if pressed. Understood?"

"Aye aye, Commander," they all said together, at which point the cheerful cosmonaut turned to the bemused commanding officer.

"At your pleasure, Captain?"

"HER pleasure? What aboot MY bluiddy pleasure?!? I'm g'win ta toown ta find the fookin magistrate, then we're coomin back wi' some guns and rousting the lot of ye!" The blustering lord of the manor stormed off stage left, in an effort to salvage some shred of dignity in the emasculating meeting he'd just had with a room full of bloody women.

"And a pleasure it has been. Thank you, Dana, Commander. Ladies, we're a week late to this crime scene, and over two months for the other, so please do your best." Enalia smiled brightly as her best went about their work and she turned to greet the lady of the house.

The lady in question was coming out of the home's parlor in a long, emerald, velour dress. Her hair was a bright flaming red, not unlike that of 'their' O'Dell, and her features were young and fairly soft, if a bit long in the face. Behind her was a studious looking middle-aged woman with thick-rimmed glasses framing a roundish face with a few scant lines and a lock of reddish-blonde hair up in a bun. The second woman was wearing what best resembled a 20th-century gray pantsuit and had an attache case and clipboard.

As they walked towards where Enalia and Rita stood in the foyer of the home, the lady in green seemed flustered and more than a little put upon by the other woman as they finished their conversation, "Really, Miss McGovern. The laird will provide all the paperwork you require for the transfer of the estate holdings. As for our outstanding..."

Then she paused and side-eyed Enalia for a moment before smiling a little bigger and seeing the other woman to the door. "As for our other business, the paperwork I showed you should be sufficient. If it isn't, I'll be sure to have our bookkeeper visit your office come the morn. Good day, Miss McGovern."

The prim looking woman nodded lightly as she was all but rushed out the door, but spared a nod to Enalia and Rita as she did, speaking in a thick brogue. "Beggin' yuir pardon, Ma'ams. Be havin' a fine day, won't ye."

The ancient astronaut raised an eyebrow at the woman's passing, but made no further commentary save a small, barely noticeable smirk that briefly graced her lips.

Running her hands down her dress as she closed the door behind the departing Miss McGovern, the lady turned back to Enalia and Rita. "Ah, I must now beg your pardons. A bit of unpleasant paperwork in the wake of our recent tragedies. All of it filed with the local tax adjudicator's office, for which Miss McGovern apparently works. But I am being a poor hostess. and you are hardly seeing me at my best. I am the Lady Kathryn O'Dell, wife of Laird Duncan. How may I be of service?"

Offering a light and proper bow, Lady O'Dell smiled warmly at the two Starfleet sirens.

Enalia and Rita both bowed politely, preferring the more civilized greeting to the bluster of Duncan. "Pardon our intrusion, Ma'am, But we've been sent here by the Federation council to investigate the circumstances surrounding the late Laird O'Dell's demise as well as related incidences in which your representative is interested. I'm Captain Enalia Telvan and this is my First Officer and Security Chief, Commander Rita Paris. And this is my lawyer, Miss Dana Nyn of the Artan Empire."

"Greeting to you all, then. It is my hope that we can settle this matter quickly, as it has hung above this once-happy home like a shroud. Please, come inside. May I get you all anything? Tea or coffee, perhaps?" Lady O'Dell said as she stepped aside and held an arm towards the open door to the home's study. It was a mid-sized room, made of sturdy woods and had the touch of finery about it. Books on the shelves and fine leathers covered the plush sturdy chairs. "I must... apologize for my husband. I'm afraid the Laird is... well... a man of deep passions."

"Tea, if it isn't too much trouble. And we've noticed he's a touch upset at our arrival. If there's anything that can be done to make our investigation go smoother..." The Trill woman let the hint hang in the air like she would a sword waiting to strike. As she waited for an answer, she looked around the small study and sat herself down in one of the seats.

"We will do whatever we can to assist your investigation, of course, Captain. The Laird has been more than a touch upset these last few weeks. Losing his dearest stepmother and then his father, whom he idolized. And now, dealing with the business of the estate, it's put a terrible strain on him, I'm afraid." Lady O'Dell said, hanging her head slightly. "He's always been adept at working the field. But managing the business side of it on top of dealing with his own grief has made him a touch more temperamental than not. But, let me fetch that tea. If you ladies will wait here, I'll be back in a moment. Make yourself at home."

"Thank you, you're very kind," Rita replied with a vacant smile that was something new to Enalia. "Your home is very beautiful. Quite the estate, as well. How many acres?"

"640 acres was the original offer from the Mariposan government to any Bringloidi man who was willing to take up with a Mariposan bride, and Lord Angus took that deal to marry Elisabeth Vallis," the lady of the house explained. "In a manner of speaking, we were like sisters, as I was based upon her primary template, with the additional infusion of fresh genetic material from the Bringloidi ."

This timeline explained why the lady of the house looked more like Duncan O'Dell's daughter rather than his wife. According to Starfleet records, the Bringloidi solar flares had made their planet uninhabitable thirty-two years ago, and Kathryn O'Dell barely looked that old herself. Clearly she was of the first generation born of the blending of two cultures; although just as clearly, she had been the result of the advanced cloning techniques employed by the Mariposans to reproduce. Rather than the old-fashioned way, which had resulted in oddities like their own diminutive daredevil. Which also stood to reason that she was considerably younger than her husband.

As she bowed out to go fetch the tea, Rita began to speak, but Enalia silently shooshed her with a finger to her lips. Rotating her finger to indicate the area, Enaliaflicked her ear- a silent indication that they were being listened to, and to consider this enemy monitored communication. Ever the veteran officer, Paris snapped out her own tricorder and started scanning the study.

"She seems nice," Paris offered in a conversational tone as she worked, focused on her task but quite willing and able to make banal small talk while they did so.

"She does," Enalia replied, visually surveying the room for anything obvious. "Though her husband has a certain... honesty... about him that I find refreshing."

“He’s certainly direct. I imagine that’s a function of their culture? I will say, seeing where she came from suddenly puts our Miss O’Dell into perspective,” Paris replied distractedly as she scanned the room with the tricorder. “Secret passages- seems the senior Mr. O’Dell had quite the flair for the dramatic. The construction is only 28 years old or so- it's made to look worn and weathered, but it isn't.”

Moments later, the sounds of footfalls came from down the hall as Lady O'Dell returned, pushing the half-closed, ornate wooden double doors to the old study open with her rear. Stepping in, she seemed slightly out of breath, as if she had rushed to return with the silver tray in hand with a porcelain teapot and four cups, each white with green filigree decorating the rims. Next to the teapot, a small tray of scones and a cup of cream.

Setting the tray down on the large, slightly cluttered desk at the rear of the chamber, Katherine O'Dell bowed slightly. "Ladies, how would you like your tea? Nothing particularly fancy. Simply an Irish Breakfast blend. But the Laird prefers things to be a bit simple. Ostentation tends to fire his blood up, you see. Many of my attempts to bring a bit of civility to the family home have been embraced, but others... not so much."

"Did the entire family live here, or have you only recently moved into the manor, Lady O'Dell?" Paris asked pleasantly enough, although Captain Telvan recognized that hint of the casual investigator in the seemingly innocent question.

The Trill Captain also recognized the tea and teacups, being an avid connoisseur of both. "That tea is an imported blend from Earth, isn't it? It smells just like Bewley's Assam blend. And those teacups... I have an identical Aynsley set from the late nineteenth century Earth. I must compliment you on your taste. Ah, but as for how we'll take it, I feel no proper Assam is complete without milk and honey. Wouldn't you agree?"

Pondering Paris's question, Lady O'Dell was taken off guard slightly by Enalia's expertise regarding Tea and the tea set itself, which she knew precious little about. She knew that it was expensive and impressed the locals and that was enough for her to feel good about herself. But while the Trill woman's words were complimentary, Katherine looked at the tray and realized that her ignorance was likely showing. All she had was cream and no honey and blushed with a bit of embarrassment at the faux pas as she resisted the impulse to glare at the much more cultured Starfleet Captain.

"Ahh, yes. Honey. Of course, I had... I can see if we have any but I'm afraid our cupboards are less well-stocked then I'd like." Lady O'Dell put on a somewhat hollow and overly polite smile as she tried to redirect back to Rita's question. "After all, the Laird and I have only recently moved into the manor home. We still have our own... estate... not too far from here. It's FAR better stocked, but we are still in the process of moving. My apologies."

“No apologies necessary, Lady O’Dell. We’re not savages, after all,” Paris laughed gaily as she folded up the tricorder and posed, big blue eyes bright and open. Given the disapproving looks at her short skirt by practically everyone on the planet since they had landed, and given that Enalia’s pants received about as much disapproval told her volumes about the local culture. Her scans had revealed a number of points of interest, but for now, she would cheerfully play dumb, as this was certainly a locale in which she would have to fight to have her competency and intelligence recognized.

Thus it was easy to play the airheaded assistant to the intense captain.

“Moving can be such a pain, it’s true. So with the elder O’Dell’s passing- our condolences, by the by- do the lands and title just automatically shift to the eldest to inherit, or will there be a division of the lands and properties according to the will?” Paris asked. “Inheritance law varies so widely from place to place…”

"Well, I'm afraid that in spite of his poor health, Angus refused to make out a will prior to his passing. And it was so sudden after his wife that he was in no mind to attend to much of anything over those few weeks. Grief is a terrible thing, after all. So the Mariposian laws shifted the assets and titles to Angus' eldest..." Lady O'Dell replied, quickly centering herself with a comfortable answer she was clearly prepared for just as Enalia cut her reply off. 

"Sweet cream will have to suffice if you have at least that then," Enalia grinned inwardly, preparing another question about the teacups. "So how were you able to get a full set of the Aynsley Emerald Green Floral set in such good condition? Last I heard they were all either lost to time or in private collections like mine, though I do admit that I don't do my best with keeping up with the less rare collections."

The Trill captain then turned to her first officer, a wicked gleam in her eye. "Commander, have I ever shown you the pride of my collection? It's the Jade Fire Dragon tea set of the third emperor of Cait. Exquisite set complete with it's own tray. He only used it once and the cup he drank out of still has traces of the poison that killed him. The auction house I got it from hired mercenaries to try and kill me once I left so they could sell it again and make another small fortune. Unfortunately for them, they didn't hire nearly enough mercenaries."

"Gosh, you certainly have not Captain, but it sounds like a fascinating story." Rita wasn't sure where Enalia was going with this, but she would gamely play along and support the stratagem.

"Well... Captain..." the woman in the green velour dress fidgeted slightly with the skirt for a moment as she thought about her answer, her jaw tightening ever so slightly as she did. Tells that would be all but imperceptible to some, but not to the two canny Starfleet officers used to debating with Gods and Monsters alike. But before she could form her reply, Enalia cut her off again.

"I bring it up because tea has a long history of being a medium for poisons and toxins on many worlds throughout history," Enalia explained with a wink. "The darker the tea, the easier it is to disguise the toxin, plus most often, neither the tea nor the teacup will react to it. However, dairy products and honey often react negatively."

"Not that I'm insinuating that our fine hostess would poison us," Enalia quickly added with a bright smile, turning back to the lady of the house. "However, being in the position I'm in, this is one of the precautions I've had to take over the years. I do hope you can understand."

“Well, of course, we wouldn’t impugn the honor of our hostess, captain, but a valid point, I must say. One can never be too careful, after all,” Paris sycophantically added, merrily playing along with the moment.

On one hand, the implication was out there for all to see. But in that moment, with the two women bouncing back and forth, Katherine O'Dell found herself having to work to keep up, and her own ego was reeling from the regular reinforcement of Enalia's extremely lofty station, not as a Captain, but as a Queen. And for the woman who coveted status, her dull brown eyes might as well have been as green as Fiona O'Dell's in that moment. But she collected herself and went back to answer the earlier question.

"On a world like Mariposa, many things that might have value elsewhere in the quadrant can often find itself... undervalued by those that simply do not know better, Captain." Lady O'Dell said, with an air of haughtiness to her voice being affected now in an attempt to keep up. "Finding an Anson Green tea set that the owners didn't realize the value of was a fortunate happenstance that I was more than willing to embrace. After all, better for it to be where it will be appreciated."

"Then your Aynsley Emerald Green set has found a good home. My first set was made of plastic and had cheap printed flowers on it and yet if my mother hadn't crushed them under her boot heels..." Enalia's smile faded for just a moment, the memory still fresh in her mind. "Well, the easily replicated set would be the pride of my collection, now wouldn't they?"

Plastering her smile back on her face, Enalia returned to the subject at hand. "Anyway, back to the inheritance. It seems that our records indicate that the prior Laird O'Dell made a request to record a will and that the filing was made that the recording was kept here at the manor. Are you saying that no such will exists after all?"

With a tightly clenched jaw from being caught in forgetting the name of the Tea Set, Lady O'Dell took the delicate pot and began pouring the cups for each of the women in attendance. Then, pouring the cream into the cups, she lightly stirred it with the small spoon on the side of the saucer and presented a cup to Enalia with a practiced smile, "To the best of my knowledge, no will was recorded. The family attorney was scheduled to come to make a recording, I'm afraid, the very day my Laird found his poor father's body. Such a tragedy."

"Thank you," Enalia said as she took her tea and savored the aroma. However, she didn't drink. "What about his funeral then? We have his desired funerary arrangements on record, yet they weren't followed. Are you able to explain that?"

“Oh, Captain, I’m sure that the Lady of the Manor doesn’t keep track of such details…” Paris offered solicitously.

At that, Lady O'Dell stiffened noticeably, pouring herself a cup and taking a sip. Her body language had changed and was more guarded now. Crossing her arms slightly, she nodded. "That... I disagreed with. Duncan... my Laird... he was so upset that he simply couldn't bear to go through with all the pomp and circumstance. He simply wanted it finished. I... we argued over the arrangements as I knew the family wouldn't like it, but..."

The woman in green turned her head slightly away from Enalia as she spoke. "When he has a full head of steam, he tends to win arguments. One way or another."

The spotted woman then turned to her angel in gold curiously. "Is this really all that common in patriarchal societies? I mean, I grew up in an admittedly matriarchal society, but even though we women held the highest seats of power most often, we still used diplo... Ah... but then there was still a lot of violence... and I guess if things were reversed... I think I'm starting to understand now."

Looking down at her tea and swirling it around her cup for a moment, Enalia seemed lost in thought. Noticing that there was zero reaction to anything in it, she continued. "Something to think about, I suppose." She then took a small sip of her tea.

"It's been my experience in patriarchal societies that yes, the male is often the decision-maker, 'come Hell or high water', as the expression goes, ma'am. Often the incoming patriarch will overrule judgments and policies of the previous patriarch, as tradition is often unimportant in the interest of creating new traditions that are considered to be improvements over the previous editions. As I've heard it said," Paris offered with a prim smile, "I believe the expression goes 'tradition is peer pressure from dead people."

"My Laird is far more concerned, at times, with getting his way than he is concerned about traditions." Lady O'Dell said as she stepped to the side of the desk, eyes narrowing slightly at the tone of her strange visitors. "I'm sure I will hear more than a mouthful for indulging your visit here as it is, for example. It's his opinion that our family's business is not the concern of... outsiders. And I have to admit, I fail to see why Starfleet would bother expending such resources for such an affair on a world such as ours. We have local authorities fully capable of carrying out investigations without redirecting an entire Starship out here."

Taking another sip of her tea, she cricked her eyebrow. "All this over little... Fiona... was it?"

"Fiona? We were sent here by Representative Father Kelly Duncan Doyle Walsh O'Reilly the Third," Enalia replied, her brows furrowing. "Ah, you must be referring to our test pilot, Ensign Fiona Mary Margaret Josephine Campbell O’Dell. It may be that Representative Father Kelly Duncan Doyle Walsh O'Reilly the Third had this in mind when he requested I personally investigate this matter as a favor to him. Or it could be that I owed him a favor anyway and as an Intel starship that handles similar investigations, we are indeed a good fit. I'll allow your ample imagination to run wild with that answer. The bottom line is that Representative Father Kelly Duncan Doyle Walsh O'Reilly the Third... Gosh, you all have such long names..."

Taking a deep breath, Enalia continued. "Representative Father Kelly Duncan Doyle Walsh O'Reilly the Third was concerned about the circumstances surrounding the death of his distant cousin and his wife and requested that I investigate within the full scope of my power. Hence why both the Starfleet vessel USS Hera and the Artan vessel ARS Damocles are now in orbit."

With ever so slightly narrowed, Lady O'Dell looked closely at Enalia, whose face and body language gave up nothing. But the green-clad woman wasn't buying the nonchalance. Then, stepping slightly back, she took another sip of tea. "Of course, Captain. We're all cousins here, after all, of a sort. Well, I know Duncan had some strong words with his young sister and is still upset about the call. He's forbade anyone from saying her name on the property, in truth."

"The name Ensign Fiona Mary Margaret Josephine Campbell O’Dell, callsign Leprechaun of the Starfleet vessel USS Hera?" Enalia asked with mock surprise, glancing over at Rita. "Well, I will certainly endeavor to refrain from using her full name then as it might turn into one of those Earth comedy skits before we know it. How about I refer to her as Ensign O'Dell?"

"My husband has forbidden it, dear Captain." Lady O'Dell said with a shrug. "I think he's being a pigheaded man-child, and needs to grow up. But it is he that is scorching the land of his family here, not I. Perhaps when this... investigation... is complete, he will start getting over himself. Or, at the very least, I can't see him raging at you quite as insistently as he would to me. Not with those... women... scanning the property."

“Oh, don’t mind the girls. They’re quite well-disciplined, and they’ll do their best not to be a bother,” Rita reported cheerfully. She’d had to choose her words carefully- she couldn’t say they were harmless- far from it. She couldn’t say they looked far more intimidating than they actually were- also an untruth, as she had seen some impressive feats out of all three. As she was honest to a fault, Rita wasn’t about to lie, but she could play dumb and harmless with the best of them.

“Why is Laird O’Dell so angry with our crew member, Lady O’Dell? Do you know?” Rita asked, cocking her head as she stood behind the Captain’s chair beside the diminutive and mostly forgotten lawyer. “I mean, it’s rare for a Federation representative to contact us in a local matter, particularly when the reports read that the parents both passed of natural causes. But given Laird O’Dell’s objections, it seems surprising that we’d be here for such an affair.”

"Well, Commander. There are some traditions that the Laird takes very seriously. And your... Ensign... defied all of the ones that Duncan cares about. By leaving here to join your Starfleet, she abandoned her responsibilities to her family, her bloodline and her people." Lady O'Dell said flatly, through half-lidded eyes. "And her apparent choices of late have... exacerbated the situation."

"He's mad about the cow and the pig, I'll bet," Rita confided with zero subtlety to Dana, who looked confused but nodded.

"So you're saying that even though the late Laird O'Dell supported her freedom of choice, Duncan O'Dell does not?" Enalia asked, mock shock in her voice.

Dana Nyn, always a lawyer, finally spoke up. "As legal counsel in both the Federation and the Artan Empire, I must advise you that unlawful limitations placed upon the liberties of the citizens of both governments is heavily frowned upon. As Ensign Fiona O'Dell is a Federation citizen, she is covered by the full extent of Federation law. As she is a member of Queen Telvan's crew and she considers every member of her crew to be family, Artan law is graciously extended to every member of her crew while they serve under her."

The Trill woman waved one hand to calm Miss Nyn. "I believe she gets the general idea, Dana."

"We are not impugning on her freedoms, Miss Nyn. My husband is simply exercising his freedom as a landowner and as laird of the manor. To not wish to suffer trespassers and to make rules of conduct within his own home- there are right my husband has as a Federation citizen, does he not?" Lady O'Dell picked her chin up and sat up a bit straighter, rising to the bait a bit more.

"Indeed, Commander. This is a private home, and the property of the Laird of family O'Dell. And within the Federation, private property is still a protected right, so if Duncan says that his sister is not welcome under his roof, then there is nothing unlawful about that." Lady O'Dell said, looking over at Dana Nyn with a raised eyebrow. "Cruel. Childish. Vindictive and petty, yes. But my dear husband can be all of those things and more."

"Yes, however, the late Laird O'Dell registered the... ah... 'cow and pig'... as members of the O'Dell clan before his untimely demise. On top of that, though Duncan O'Dell may be registered with the local government as the heir due to the lack of a will, until the Federation investigation is concluded, any actions taken in regards to the estate of the late Laird such as banishing someone or selling off property or changes to said property will be held under suspicion in relation to said investigation. You and your spouse have many rights in this matter, however your compliance in Federation investigations is required."

The nose of kathryn O'Dell wrinkled at that, her eyebrows rose and she shook her head slightly. "Well, I suppose we shall see what Laird O'Dell has to say about that when he returns from town with the constable."

"Indeed we shall," Enalia replied with a hint of a grin as she sipped at her tea.


----------------
To Be Continued...

Walking the grounds of the O’Dell estate, the greenery was lush, the hills were rolling the wind was blustery and cold, and Fiona O’Dell was catching her family up on her memories of the place. Stories of her youth, of times with family, good and bad, and reverie was heavy in the air, until they came to the livestock pastures, when Minnie caught sight of Shaggies, the long-haired highland cows who had been imported from earth centuries before, who were still quite content living on an alien world over a hundred lightyears from their planet of origin.

Letting loose a delighted squeal, the young Minotaur released both her parent’s hands, and charged across the firld toward her distant relatives, delighted to see lifeforms that more closely resembled her than her mismatched parents, neither of whom did she physically resemble in the least.

While the cows were unimpressed with the small bipedal bovine, neither were they disturbed by her as she moved in on one, reaching out to stroke the thick fur and moo at the low intelligence sapient.

“I think mebbe the talk aboot what we do wi’ cow, pigs an’ checkens likely should wait until she’s older. I dinna want to give her nightmares, aye?” Fiona muttered to Briaar as they picked their way across the field. Which was when they heard a voice of dissent ahead.

“Hey! What d’ye think yuir doin over there, aye? Fook off!” said a voice that sounded surprisingly like Fiona’s.

"Yeah, that's probably a good ide... the hell?!" Briaar turned at the sound of the strange yet familiar voice. "Uh... you know this wriggler, Fee? Sure as hell looks related."

Stomping towards them, Fiona was on the other side of Briaar, meaning that even HER fiery locks were obscured by her partner's ponderous paunch and hidden from view of the oncomer, who looked no bigger than the temperamental test pilot herself. And in spite of the skillful mastery of profanity, the voice came from a boy that looked no older than 10.

"You 'eard me, ya' great pink nightmare! Git offa 'r land fore I fetch a cattle prod n' give ye' a right good reason t' run!" The tiny, red-haired fireplug yelled, pointing at Gavarus as Fiona peaked her head around her partner's belly.

“Alreet alreet, calm yuirself, young master O’Dell. The wee one’s nae hurtin innyone, and neither’s me partner, who’s big enough ta squash ye where ye stand, so I’d curb that tongue a tetch if I were ye, aye?” Fiona rolled out her deeper brogue to communicate with a local, who clearly spoke the same language in more ways than one. Stepping forward in front of her porcine partner, the short spitfire contemplated her obvious relative, who looked more like her than most of her brothers. “Noow, me question fuir ye is, who are you to be so free with threats of cattle prods, when I’m walkin the lands I was born upon, aye?”

"Who m' I? Who'r ye t' be claimin' t' be..." Looking Fiona up and down, the young ginger scratched his rump while looking up at Briaar then back to Fiona. "Ahhh, well, me name's Darby. Darby O'Dell. Me da's Wallace O'Dell. An' I'm bettin' from the sight'a the two'a ya, that yuir me... cousin, Fiona? Th'one that th' new Laird banished or some such shite."

“Waaaaaahhhhl, if Wally’s your da, that makes me yuir Auntie Fiona, Darby me old bean,” Fiona explained with a winning smile. “Aye, I think Duncan mighta blown aboot some such banishment or whatnot. But until he’s legally declared laird of the O’Dell’s his proclamation’s worth jack all, and- Minerva! Dinna be steppin’ in the manure, child! Watch yuir hooves, little one, aye?”

“That’s me daaaater Minerva, and this here’s me paaaartner Briaar. No, we’re nae married, and aye, she’s adopted,” Fiona explained, anticipating the next few questions from the precocious youngster who was proving that clearly some things ran in the family.

"Yeeeeaaah, that's... that's a cowpie she's standing in, isn't... Minnie!" Briaar looked over as her shoulders slumped. "Wait... I think that's... I hope that's just dirt."

Meanwhile, Darby looked up at the portly porcine with a confused expression. "So, yuir my aunt, n'... yuir paaaartner is a pig? And that's a wee shaggy walkin' on two legs in a little dress over dere? Izzis what Uncle Duncan is all red in th' face aboot?"

"Ya' know, I'm a Tellarite. I'm not an actual pig. I'm an engineer from a race that figured out warp drive when frickin' humanity was still crapping in holes in the ground when you weren't flinging it at each other. Seriously, this pig shit is getting old." Briaar grumbled, waving her arms in the air before heading into the pasture to try and grab Minnie before she really did step in manure.

"Wipes are in the diaper bag, aye?" Fiona called after the portly porcine, before walking over to address her nephew. "Aye... she's an alien from another world, and aye, she is kind of a space swine. And aye, her an' the wee shaggy in a dress are likely what yuir uncle is all red in the face aboot. It hits Catholic forbidden bingo a few times over, and it surely ain't what was expected of me."

"But that one there, she's saved me life more times than I c'n count. She's dead smart, strong, and she kin drink inny man under the table. But she's kind, and shy, and she cares fuir me in a way that nivvir makes demands, an' appreciates me for who I am. I know, sounds all mushy to ye, but tis important, Darby O'Dell. Ye find someone that cares for ye and loves ye fuir ye, and they are nae bad for ye? That's a keeper, I dinna care who they are." Looking out to the field, Fiona smiled watching Minnie, giggling as she ran away from Briaar, thinking it was a game.

"The wee one- she's yuir cousin Minerva. Her mum died bringin her into the world, and she dinna have innyone, so since we're an odd match already... well, you'll meet her. Minnie's a sweetheart," Fiona declared as Minnie finished a running charge by locking horns with one of the bulls, and trying to push the big bovine back. The bull wasn't moving, but Fiona had a hunch it was a sign of things to come. "That child is g'win ta charge at everything in this life, lock horns wi' it and dig in."

Raising her voice, in the tradition of her ancestors, Fiona used The Mom Voice, complete with full name. "Minerva Moo Mary Margret Mona O'Dell, you stop that and coom here this instant young lady! Dinna make me coom over there!"

Stopping in her tracks and stepping back from the massive bull, Minnie whined a little, looking ready to protest before kicking her tiny hooves and pouting in place long enough for Briaar to catch up. "Hey there... enormous ass bull. Yeah, you just chill there. Awesome. Heh."

Anxiously, the portly porcine picked up her precious package and slowly backed away, back towards Fiona and Darby. Meanwhile, Darby just watched with a surprised look on his face. "Wow. Well, yuir certain' doin' enough to right piss off Uncle Duncan bein' wit those two. But Da says Uncle Duncan has 'banished' half the clan from the family home. Da calls 'im a... 'power-drunk... jackanape'?"

“Wahhhhhl, far be it fuir me ta disagree wi’ your Da’s assessment of the situation,” the elder O’Dell confessed to the younger. “First? Dinna ye joodge me, and second, respect yuir elders. Yuir hurtin me partner’s feelins, and I willnae have it, alreet? I know ye were taught better. Now, yuir a smart young lad, and clearly ye keep yuir ears open… what’s happenin in the family, hm? We got here aboot half an hour ago, so’s I have nae time to get the lay of the land, as t’were.”

Shuffling slightly in place, the young Darby looked slightly contrite, having been chastised by his elder and hemmed and hawed for a moment. "M'sorry, mum. I didn't mean nuthin'..."

“Aye, I know ye dinna, and if I dinna say innything then how’re ye to know, aye?” Offering a warm smile and a hand on the shoulder to the youngster who was nearly as tall as she was, the far-travelled O’Dell reassured the next generation. “Noo harm done, Darby- I’m nae mad, and Briaar’s got a thick skin. Noow ye know, and ye kin act accordingly. That’s the important thing, so dinna ye worry.”

Then his tone got a little more conspiratorial. "Well... things 'ave been a right mess since grandpa Agnus passed on. He weren't even gone but a day and Uncle Duncan was throwin' his weight around, movin' wit' his wife inta th' big house and declarin’' hisself Laird by birthright. But all th' rest'a th' family is right in a twist o'er it all, I'd say. All week, there's been all sortsa fightin' and screamin'. Me Da is furious that the funeral rites got skipped, as is half the family. Th' other half just seems like they don't want t' piss off Uncle Duncan."

"Or, really, t' piss off 'Lady' Kathryn, his wife. Aunt Gerty and Aunt Wendy were over havin' tea with me Ma n' they said that Miss Kathryn has Uncle Duncan... what's it mean... poossywhipped?" Darby said, slightly confused, which elicited a snort of a chuckle out of Briaar, who was walking over and cleaning off Minnie's hooves with a wipe from the diaper bag on her shoulder.

“Mmmmm, that sounds aboot right. Well, Darby, this is Briaar, and this is your cousin Minerva… or Minnie, as we like to call her. Minnie, Briaar, this is me nephew Darby O’Dell… me new favorite nephew.” Stepping aside, Fiona gestured to the rest of her family, giving Darby a chance to put his best foot forward. “Darby has been catching me up on the family brouhaha.”

"Ahhh, aka, the 'THIS' storm?" Briaar said, holding up a baby wipe stained with cow manure from the pasture. "Anywho, pleased to meet you properly, Darby. Hey, Minnie, can you tell your cousin Darby here 'hello'?'

Briaar put the freshly cleaned off Minnie down on the grass as she looked up at her ginger cousin. The miniature Minotaur walked up and tilted her head quizzically at Darby, then looked back at Fiona with wide eyes before reaching up to Darby's shirt and tugging the 10-year-old down so she could reach up and touch his own curly red hair.

The young Mariposian jerked down slightly, not expecting to be overpowered by a toddler. But he offered no protest as he grinned slightly. Minnie rubbed his head and giggled slightly. "LOW!!! LOW!!! Like Mum!"

“Aye, Minnie, that’s right. Cousin Darby is a curly ginger joost like Mum, yuir right. Now be gentle, aye?” Gently, Fiona took Minnie by the shoulder and pulled her back a bit from her cousin, who genuinely looked like he could be Fiona’s offspring. In the distance, Fiona noticed one of the gold-clad Secruity officers- one of the big Klingon gals- who was scanning the area, then she stopped by the lakeside, apparently fascinated by something she had found on the water's edge. Then she refocused on the youngster before her.

“Ye hafta realize, ye and me’re a bit of throwbacks to our roots, aye? So she dinna see a lot of pale gingers on the starship we live on. So tis exciting to her ta meet a cousin that looks like ‘er Mum.” Patting the bovine babe on the head fondly, Fiona’s smile was warm and maternal. “I s’pose we shouldnae ha’ brought her down, given how the shite’s g’win ta hit the fan, boot I wanted her to see the planet, see where the O’Dell’s come from, since yuir Granddad declared her one of the clan.”

Seeing the look that passed over the young lad's face, Fiona confirmed. “Aye Darby, she is indeed an O’Dell- nae by blood, but by decree. Joost like Lady Kathryn- nae by blood, but by decree.”

"Well, if Grandda said so, then it IS." Darby said, nodding with approval and a smile. "N she's a fair sight nicer than Lady Kathryn, innyway. I know, respect m' elders, but she's jus'... a right pain. My Da' says so, an Grandda could'na stand her either."

Watching the Klingon Security sweep off in the distance, Briar's eyes narrowed a little. "Looks like something's goin' on at the big house. I guess we can only put this off so long, Fee."

“Aye, ye’ve a point there. Besides, I need a drink.” Turning to the youngster, the diminutive daredevil dame cracked a mischievous smile. “Ye want ta hear the adults air their dirty laundry in public, young master Darby? Aye? Then come along, and yuir bound to get an earful…”

Mariposa: Now

"THE FOOK D'YE MEAN YUIR NOT COOMIN?!?"

Currently throwing a tirade in the office of the constabulary in the town of Dunwich, Duncan O'Dell, recently self-declared 'Laird of the O'Dell clan' was having a bad day that kept getting worse. And as Duncan tended to do in such times, he was not suffering quietly. "Yuir the bloody constable! Tis your bluiddy joab! Now get offa yuir arse, get yuir bluiddy nightstick or whaivvir it is we issue ye and get oop to me house to throw these people offa me property before I round up a band of stout lads an-'"

"Ohhhhh,. noow hold on 'ere joost a tetch, Dooncan. D'ya know joost who 'tis in yuir hoose reet noow?" the constable puffed his pipe gently, savoring the tobacco's cherry flavor blend he preferred. "That's Enalia fookin Telvan in yuir hoose. Ye have innnny idea who she is a'tall?"

"Pooshy loudmouthed woman who dinna know her place wi' teats the size'a me fist from bluiddy Staaarfleet, that's who! And she brought a whore, an ogre and a pair of hobgoblins with her!" Duncan continued his agitated pacing, the wide broad paunchy barfly's pate glistening with sweat. "So throw 'em the fook oota me house!"

"Here," the constable slid the keyboard tray out from under his desk and tapped a few keys, and above his desk a video presentation holographically projected. "Watch this afore ye say innything else ye might nae live ta regret, y'ken?"

As the holographics lit up, a massive snowglobe of a space station panned in, zipping past more than two dozen ships ranging from modified Miranda class cruisers to Trill system patrol craft to Mughi class cargo carriers to zoom in towards one of the top stories of the silver castle that acted as the central pillar of the station that seemed to dwarf almost any Federation starbase.

When it finished panning in through a window, it settled on the image of the woman that was currently sitting in Duncan's house, wielding a sword one-handed and wearing a white and platinum military-style suit holding off a dozen Gorn and Naussican pirates with relative ease. With a wink at the camera, in one smooth motion, she sheathed her sword, pulled out a pair of antique phase pistols, and fired pulses in sweeping arcs at each of the people she was facing, not missing a single person.

When she was done, she holstered her pistols and stepped up to the camera with a smile so bright, it literally sparkled. "Hi, I'm Queen Enalia Telvan of the newly reformed Artan Empire. Are you being bothered by pirates? Is the Syndicate pestering you? Did your crops fail and you need food to survive the winter? Do you need medical assistance due to infighting with your family? Because of our policy of almost unconditionally helping people and assisting people with their freedoms, we can help! Please contact your nearest Artan representative at one of the subspace frequencies listed below. We'll strive to come to an amicable agreement with whatever or whomever you're having issues with."

As Enalia in the holo was talking, she had walked out of the combat arena and into a lavish lounge filled with ornate teacups, hand-carved furniture, thousands of paper books, and what looked like a fireplace the size of a warp core. "And if we can't come to an arrangement with your harasser..." Here she paused and picked up the freshly butchered heart of a targ served to her on a silver platter by a maid, squeezing it until it exploded all over her. "Well... Let's just say they won't be harassing you anymore." As the video transitioned to a series of sponsor logos and contact information, plus something about no live animals being harmed in the recording of this holo, her smile hadn't faded, even though her face had been splattered with targ blood, which only made her look a bit more sinister.

"That's... bloody horrible. Who the fook are the Artan..." Duncan began, as the constable tapped another key and a news article with starmaps, fleet numbers and data popped up.

"S'a fookin... wait, they've got stellar territory, they're an actual space power?" Duncan bellowed in disbelief. "And that madwoman with the heart there, that's-"

Another two keys tapped, and the dual image appeared of the blood-spattered pirate queen, side by side with the Starfleet captain in her official photo. Both were easily recognizable as the same woman.

"Boot... th'fook's she doin in Starfleet? The fook's she doin' in mah den?!?"

Puffing serenely at his pipe, the constable laid out the facts. "Yeh had yuir faather cremated within hours of his death, and the man weren't burnt afore ye had the ring on yuir finger and declarin yuirself laird. Then the will canna be found. Then ye start callin yuir relatives ta tell 'em the news, and ye banished seven people."

"Eleven. I told Fetgie and his entire ratfaced lot they were ne'er ta darken me door agin," Duncan corrected. "Alreet, so Ah may have been a wee bit rash in a few 'a my decisions. But how does that suddenly rate a bluiddy starship captained by Bloody fookin Mary a'the stars ta come draggin her menagerie inta me den?"

"Ye could try taaalkin ta the padre what called 'em, Fadder Kelly Dooncan Doyle Walsh O'Reilly the Tird," the constable explained. "Boot witht he quickness this came on? I think they bribed the padre inta goin along with it joost to have an excuse. Boot the thing is, if t'were the case. the padre'd nivvir confess to it. Because," Tapping a key, the image of the bloody queen popped up holographically above his desk again.

"What'd I ivvir do to deserve sooch piss luck," Duncan grumbled.

"Did ye nae hear me the first time, potato ears? Yeh had yer faather cremated wi'in hours of his death..."

Mariposa: Now

"NOOW WHAT THE BLUIDDY BLEEDIN HELL ARE ALLA YE DOIN IN MAH HOOOUSE?!?"

The red-faced Duncan O'Dell, having returned from town with the Constable in tow, who had agreed to come along, in truth, only to insure that Duncan did not do something incredibly foolish, was now gathering in the parlor. Which is where he had encountered Fiona, Briaar, Minnie and Darby, as well as Captain telvan and Commander Paris. As he loomed in the doorway, red-faced and hyperventilating, there was the briefest instant where it looked like he might just charge Fiona to wring her neck with his bare hands. But that moment passed when Petty Officer Jablonski laid her hand, the size of his bicep on the Laird's shoulder and slid past him none too smoothly.

The large bully seemed somewhat intimidated by the much larger and rather unbelievably muscled giantess that served as a security officer on the USS Hera.

"I've come home because this IS me home, ye curdled saucer o'mil," Fiona explained, interposing between him and the young ones. "I'd say I'd coom to pay me respects, but we'd all know that was a lie. Instead, we're here to find out joost what ye've been up to, because frankly, I think ye're a fookin moron, but ye might be a murderin' one."

The rage in Ducan O'Dell's eyes crystallized, and he did indeed lunge at Fiona, only to be stopped in his tracks by that same beefy hand, attached to the mountain of muscle who had chosen her position quite strategically in order to prevent just succheuver.

"Sir, I don't wanna hurtcha and you don't wanna be in traction," 'Big Ethel' Jablonski informed the elder O'Dell, in her folksy farmgirl twang. "So howbout you calm down a little and let's all be civil, okie doke?"

Coming into the large, but fairly well-packed parlor, Lady Kathryn O'Dell had a larger tray with more tea and a few mugs of beer as well as she tried to smooth over the drama. "Now, Duncan. Calm yourself."

The words were less calming than the sight of the mammoth mountain of muscle, making her presence and considerable power known to the blustering blowhard whose eyes went wide at the sight as the Lady O'Dell continued. "They're here to clear up a misunderstanding, is all. And once we've satisfied their questions, they'll doubtless leave."

"Yeah, doubtless." Briaar Gavarus said in a flat, sarcastic tone, staring at Duncan with daggers in her eyes. "Oh, I'll take one'a those, thank you very much." While still watching Duncan, the tall Tellarite grabbed a beer and took a swig just to irritate him.

That was when the Klingon sisters entered, V’Nus still scanning with her tricorder. Making her way over to Briaar Gavarus, she glanced up from the display to remove the beer from her large three-fingered grasp quite deliberately and set it back on the serving tray. A silent look from the Klingon warned the Tellarite engineer not to argue, which was then followed by a meaningful glance to the Commander. Whose eyebrows rose, then she whispered in the ear of the Trill captain. Which brought about a rising anger in the eyes of the Captain, which seemed to settle somewhat with another whisper from the Commander.

Which was when the grey-suited Miss McGovern entered, in a curious turn of events.

“Alla ye, I want ye the fook oota me house! I dinna care who ye think ye are, I want ye OOT!” Duncan O’Dell bellowed.

"Miss McGovern, what are you doing here? I told you I would bring you our financial records tomorrow? This really isn't an appropriate time." Lady O'Dell said, with a confused expression on her face for the ginger-haired Tax accountant.

Pushing the round-framed glasses up her nose, the woman in the gray suit raised an eyebrow. "Oh, m'dear, Ah'm not here t' meet wit you nar yuir husband." Then, the thick Irish brogue vanished as she continued. "I already have all the paperwork on your finances I need."

Standing and handing her half-full teacup to V'Nus, Enalia finally had enough. "Scan this and everyone in this house for traces of it." She then rounded on Duncan. "Miss Jablonski, please restrain Duncan and Kathryn O'Dell and inform these two of their rights as they are now under arrest for possession and use of outlawed contraband and attempted poisoning and murder of several Starfleet officers. Commander Paris, please contact sickbay and have them prepare enough Veridium six antidote for all of us just in case."

"Poison?! What the effin' F***!" Gavarus exclaimed as she started wiping her tongue on her sleeve.

"That's the one poison I haven't built up an immunity to..." Dana muttered as she patted her pockets and pulled out an Artan pocket scanner to confirm whether she had indeed been poisoned or not and sighing in relief when it came back negative.

“DUNCAN! Ye fat-headed fool, what have ye done?” The pipsqueak pilot fairly keened like a banshee, even as the Laird of the O’Dell's turned white as a ghost, blinking slowly as the oversized petty officer moved to restrain him.

“This… this is shite! S’all lies, I dinna poison innyone! Ye blasted Starfleet, ye coom in here throwin yuir weight around, tryin’ ta make alla these accusations ta discredit me, callin me a murderer! I’ll have alla yuir joabs fur this!” the red-faced bear of a man bellowed.

"Duncan O'Dell, you are many things. A liar, an abusive brother and a fool of a blowhard, but you may, in fact, be innocent of the charges of conspiracy and murder." The red-headed Miss McGovern said as she stepped forward and pulled out a Starfleet PaDD.

"N' WHO THE HELL R' YOU, T' BE SAYIN' SUCH THINGS, WOMAN?!?" Duncan bellowed as Petty Officer Jablonski easily pulled his arms back to put restraints on his wrists.

As she raged, little Minnie jumped up and down with a broad grin, pointing at the woman and squeeing, "GAMMY!"

"Indeed, there is no fooling you, my dear." The woman said, pressing a button on her belt. As she did, there was a shimmer and the image of a red-haired Mariposian tax adjudicator vanished, revealing the severe Romulan features of the Hera's Jaeih Dox.

"No, according to your tax records and financials, I believe it is Lady Kathryn here that has been orchestrating this particular tragedy." Jaieh said, handing her PaDD to Enalia. "You see, as Kathryn Bollea, she was quite the social climber, accruing considerable debt for herself before she met the heir to Angus O'Dell's land and assets, and his acting hand. Clearly the inheritor, and the best possible candidate to inherit the lands and titles. Unwed at 42 and an unlikely prospect, as he is boorish, loud, temperamental, with a propensity for shouting, he made an easy target."

"It's a habit, noot a propensity!" Duncan shouted.

"But Duncan all on his own wasn't nearly as well off as his father, and shortly after their remarkably lavish and expensive wedding, she began draining HIS resources. Their former home is near foreclosure, Captain." Jaieh said, raising an eyebrow. "Which was when Kathryn began coming here to 'help out' her new mother-in-law while Duncan tried figuring out where his money was going."

"Of course, that was also when Margret O'Dell took a slow turn for the worse, I'm afraid." The canny Romulan former Intel agent said, resting a hand on Fiona's trembling shoulder. "Petty Officer V'Nus?"

Slowly, Duncan O'Dell turned to regard his wife, seeing her in perhaps a different light. "Sugar plum...?"

The Lady of the house began to sob, and before the lord of the manor could wind up again as his face turned red, the large and imposing petty officer restraining him put a finger to his lips that was bigger than his manhood.

"Shhhh. It's the parlor scene, where the explain whodunnit and how. Don't iunterrupt, or I'll have to stun ya, okay?"

While his left eye twitched, Duncan O'Dell held his words for now.

"A scan of Margret O'Dell's resting place revealed a concentrated amount of Veridium Six, the same poison found in the drinks," the taller Klingon woman said. "I am... sorry, Ensign O'Dell."

"I also found trace human remains at the edge of the lake, where the ashes of the cremated deceased were scattered," Petty Officer S'Rina reported, then she snarled out the next sentence. "Scans also detected trace amounts of Veridium Six in those remains. DNA match for Angus O'Dell."

Looking somehow ashamed, S'Rina looked to her sister, who turned her gaze to the floor, as if sharing that shame. Then S'Rina bowed slightly to the little woman. "I, uh, too am sorry, Ensign."

"Of course, Veridium six is a Klingon poison. Not one you would commonly find available here on Mariposa, is it?" Jaeih added as she then looked to Enalia and her Artan attorney, who had done some digging of their own.

Enalia picked up the trail at this point. "Indeed. The Artans picked up a notorious smuggler three weeks ago in need of ship repairs and while Sarika's people rendered aid, they found a rather large stash of assorted Klingon contraband and toxins, including Veridium six."

She then motioned to Dana to continue, who pulled out an Artan holopad and pulled up an image of the smuggler in question. "As per our internal policies, as the smuggler known as Reki the Randy had multiple warrants and bounties out on him, he was detained by Artan forces for questioning. Once his identity was confirmed, his navigation logs were pulled and his assets were confiscated before he was turned over to Federation authorities and all contraband logged and disintegrated. As his most recent planetary stop was here, when Queen... Pardon me... Captain Telvan requested my aid and sent me the pertinent documentation, I forwarded her the records of Reki the Randy's visit. To be fair, there were three other smugglers that are known to have visited this world over the course of the past five years, however he's the only one that's known for dealing in toxins."

Holding up a small padd of her own, Dana Nyn projected a full-sized hologram of the smuggler, Reki's bust and showed it to Lady O'Dell who simply scoffed.

"This is preposterous. I've never seen that man before in my life, nor would I ever associate myself with his like. I am a LADY, thank you very much." Kathryn said, looking down her nose at the scoundrel on the hologram. But she no sooner said it as the ten-year-old ginger boy who had arrived with Fiona and Gavarus piped up.

"My eye ye' are!" Darby O'Dell said, waving his hands like an excited schoolchild with the answer. "Me an' me Dad saw ye' in town at th' Rusty Nail havin' drinks wit' that same man not FAR months ago! Me dad said ye were cuckoldin' Uncle Duncan!"

"WHAAAAAT!" Duncan roared before remembering the ogress with the stun threat. Grinning sheepishly at her, she responded with a sympathetic nod.

The Constable from town was now looking at Kathryn with a raised brow and a suspicious eye as well.

"Really? A ten-year-old child is the witness against me? This is absurd," Kathryn declared in mock disgust, as even Duncan was now looking at his own wife with a mixture of surprise and suspicion. "Margret fell ill, and I cared for her night and day. Better than any of her own children or grandchildren, I might add."

"Her children. The ones mentioned, no doubt, in Angus O'Dell's conveniently missing will?" Jaeih said with narrowed eyes.

"There WAS NO WILL!" Kathryn shouted. "Angus passed from GRIEF before he could record one. It's a tragedy, but nothing more. There is no blood on my hands! None!"

While Kathryn protested, at the rear of the lounge, little Minerva waddled over to Jaeih. Making grabby hands, she took the stern Romulan woman's hand in her own and began to quietly pull at her. Looking down with a raised eyebrow, Minnie was sticking her tongue out as she kept pulling, leading the elder woman out into the corridor behind the room while everyone else's attention was still on Kathryn.

"Your protest is on record, Mrs. O'Dell. But there are trace amounts of the poison on your clothing-" S'Rina reported, eyeing her tricorder for confirmation as it scanned.

"Splash from the drinks, which someone else poisoned!" Lady O'Dell protested.

"...concentrated on your hands. Handling a coward's honorless weapon, you should be more careful," Petty Officer S'Rina snarled. "The levels in your system at current recommend medical care."

At that, Kathryn O'Dell blanched, the color draining from her face.

Which was when Petty Officer V'Nus returned from the kitchen with a coffee cup in hand. "Located the toxin container, Captain. Kathryn O'Dell's DNA on the surface." Setting it down on the tray of poisoned drinks, V'Nus stepped back again.

"On top of that, we know you've had prior dealings with smugglers before," Enalia added, picking up one of Kathryn's precious tea set saucers and tossing it against a wall like a frisbee. Instead of shattering like real fine china, it bounced off and fell to the floor unharmed. "I own every Aynsley that still exists, for one. That includes those in museums. Second off, the weight and balance of these are too perfect, which means they're replicated. Third off, almost five years ago a ceramics smuggler that I bought the last set in the wild from made a visit to your planet and sold quite a bit of his stock just before the Federation picked him up for trying to sell counterfeits to a Bolian entrepreneur."

Looking down at the tea saucer that she now knew was a forgery, Katheryn's eyes went wide and flickered with unguarded panic. "N... no... that's... that's not... that's NOT possible!? NO! No! He said..."

As the words leaked out, Kathryn's face curled into a sneer of rage. "How dare you! How dare you come here to MY home and accuse me of such things! I am the LADY O'DELL! You have no right to do this to me!"

"Still claiming to be a lady? Miss Kathryn O'Dell, you may be a woman but you are no Lady." Enalia was in full Queen mode now, adjusting her white dress uniform top before clasping her hands behind her back. "A Lady conducts herself with honor and dignity. A Lady checks the background of the goods she purchases and scans them for counterfeits. A Lady does not consort with unsavory characters to assassinate her own family. A Lady lives within her means and if she is unable to, makes sacrifices in order to do so."

"In short, Ensign Fiona O'Dell is far more of a Lady than you ever will be." The spotted captain then turned away from the furious woman with no further interest in her. "Someone please tell me we've found a will?"

"Still working on that one, Captain," came Commander Paris' voice from the Captain's comm badge.

Hissing now, Kathryn was leaning forward, most of her weight supported easily by Ethel Jablonski, who was holding the furious woman's restraints behind her back. "I do not recognize your authority here! I will fight this mockery of justice! My LAIRD and I will not be broken by your pathetic LIIIIEEESSS!"

But Duncan O'Dell was just staring at his wife with an expression of utter shock on his face, hardly recognizing her as she continued her mad rant. "All of this so-called evidence is nothing more than your sad attempts to frame us! And for WHO? That little weird, inbred piece of garbage that should have been put out of its misery as a child!? You will not get away with this travesty, Telvan! You won't, because there IS NO WILL!"

As for the ensign in question, currently, her face was set in a scowl as she eyed Kathryn O'Dell coldly. "Yuir home.... this is nae yuir home, ye harridan" O'Dell began, winding up slowly. "This was me father's home... where him and me ma raised me. Where me brothers grew up and went oot into the world. That block of real oak in the kitchen handed doown from the original Bringloidi settlers he was s'proud of. That bannister he'd tell ye he carved himself because he wanted it to be fooked oop and crooked. This floor that Duncan spilled ink all over tryin to cross the room an stumbled over his own feet, so's Mum had to put a rug over it to hise the stain."

"This was me father's house, and me family's house. Tisnae YUIR house, ye murderin... no good, goabashite garbage for a soul bloody succubus. Took advantage of me stupid brother who dinna even kknow how to think with his cock, ye mu... mu... murdered me mum," O'Dell stuttered, as Gavarus put a hand on her shoulder. "Ye killed me mum, and then ye killed me Da too."

Stepping over to the restrained Lady O'Dell, tears streaming down her face, Fiona O'Dell pleaded with the woman, her face a contorted mask of sadness. "Why would ye do sooch a thing to me family? Why? What wrong did we commit to you, what henious crime, what affront did we visit upon yuir personage that ye would... would do sooch a thing to me family? Mum, Dad... for what? Why?"

Looking down at the pitiable little mutant, the proud and regal Kathryn O'Dell drew herself up top her full height, looked down her nose and sneered at the grieving daughter of murdered parents. When she spoke, her voice was cold and emotionless.

"Because they were in the way of what I wanted."

It was in that moment that Fiona O'Dell stood on the razor's edge. While she had never been bloodthirsty, still she could fight, and she had seen action in Starfleet. But in the here and now, in this moment, she very much wanted to climb the tall woman's dress and strangle her to death with her bare hands. As that hard-favored rage threatened to overtake her fair nature, at that moment little Minerva returned to the parlor, with Jaeih Dox in hand and a wide, satisfied and proud grin on her fuzzy little face. For her part, Jaeih had what could only be described as a devilish smirk perched on her own, generally patrician facade.

"Why look, it seems we have found the will after all."

Holding up a small black disk with a plastic hexagon of screens on the top, she handed it to Enalia. "It turns out Angus suspected her for a while. The attorney WAS scheduled to arrive to record his will on the day Angus was murdered, but Angus was no fool and recorded this remotely two weeks after his talk with Fiona and Briaar. It turns out that secret passages with hidden evidence could not evade the senses of a young Minotaur, for whom such secrets are laid bare. After all, what is a secret passage but another kind of maze? She lead me right to what we sought on instinct."

Kneeling down, Fiona held her arms wide, and Minnie rushed into them, wrapping her diminutive mother in a hug. As they held one another, Fiona whispered, "Ye found yuir grandad's will for him... he woulda been so proud of ye, little one. So we'll be proud of ye for him, aye? That's me good girl."

Minerva O'Dell would never know what she had saved her mother from that day. But her timely intervention had likely saved her Mum from becoming a murderess herself. Well, attempted, as the Security forces wouldn't have just stood by to let her do it. Instead, her daughter had reminded her that sometimes good did triumph over evil, and sometimes love was all you needed.

After looking the small device over briefly, Enalia handed it over to Miss Dana Nyn. "I believe that as the only lawyer present, you're the only one authorized to certify it as authentic and all that. If you don't mind?"

"It would be my pleasure," the shorter Trill replied, once more taking out her scanner and running it over the bottom of the will. "All seals and certificates are present and accounted for the Last Will and Testament of one Angus O'Dell. I assume you'll want to have the whole family present for the reading, but there's a summary and a transcript available, if..."

With a nod from Enalia, Dana looked back down at her scanner and read through the summary. "I, Angus... yadda yadda... Sound mind... Ok... the Reason this was recorded two weeks prior to the scheduled date was because he suspected Kathryn and Duncan of poisoning him and his wife with intent to murder and they're to be removed from his will. He fully accepts Fiona and Briaar in the eyes of God and names Minerva as one of his heirs... There's some changes to the dispensation of the lands... The family fortune is to be split between his seven children... Ah, and there's the important part I assume - the house and title are to be inherited by Wallace O'Dell and shared with his brothers. The rest after that is legal requirements."

"WALLACE!?!" Kathryn shrieked, straining in vain against Ethel's iron grip. "That's a... that's a forgery!! A fake!!! I'll have a real attorney look and you'll see! You'll all see!!"

"You'll... You'll..." She protested, stuttering until her voice cracked and her knees went out from under her. With an arc of her head, she appeared to fall back into Ethel, fainting.

Holding up her tricorder, V'Nus gave Kathryn a quick scan then looked at Commander Paris as she re-entered the room, and simply rolled her eyes in a silent message to the Security chief.

“Me dad’s to be laird? Oh, have I got news when I get home,” Darby O’Dell laughed, dispersing some of the thick tension in the room.

“As of this point, I feel that most of the major questions have been answered here. Which means that it’s time to turn our findings over to the local law enforcement, so that they will have it to present to the local magistrate, and Mariposan justice can have it’s say, and it’s day in court,” Commander Paris declared, collecting the evidence into a datapacket and sending them to the Constable. She then handed over the will, which would likely have a proper reading before the end of the day. “Does anyone else have anything to add before we take our leave?”

“Aye… I’ve soomethin ta say,” Duncan O’Dell grumbled. A contrite expression was an unfamiliar one on the big man’s face, but it was there nonetheless. “Fiona… I know I’ve been shouty and angry, and I’ve made some poor choices…”

“That’s the understatement of the bluiddy year…” Fiona muttered, but let him continue.

“I swear to ye, I had no idea what was happenin,” the great bear of a man pleaded, miserably. “I dinna have any grudge against Margret, and I wanted to be Laird… but not like this. I dinna know what she was doin’, and while I listened to her advice and I coulda done things differently, I swear to ye, I dinna know she was killin our kin. If ye believe nothin’ else, please believe that.”

Standing and stepping forward, the picayune pilot looked up at the great mass of her brother. For so many years their relationship had been fine, then it had become one of damaged trust, that had devolved into bullying. Now, years later, she stood in the family home where she had grown up from birth, and eyed the man who had been so easily duped into being an accessory to the murder of both her parents… by marrying the murderess. So many emotions churned within her, and she realized that she had no obligation to offer any concession whatsoever.

Then she turned to look back at Briaar Gavarus, who looked nervous, as she always did in moments like this. But her nervous smile was warm and caring, and Fiona knew she would stand behind anything Fiona said, right or wrong. Then she looked down to young Minerva… young enough to not understand the situation, but old enough to remember today’s events. Which meant that she would learn an important moral lesson here, from the example set by her Mum.

“I believe ye, Duncan. Yuir stupid and short-sighted, ye’re a bully and a braggart and a blowhard. But ye wouldnae have killed Da to get him oot of yuir way… I honestly do believe that. For being a dunderhead, for being rude to me and me family, for marryin’ Lady Macbeth here…” Fiona lightly kicked the slumped woman in the knee, prompting a sharp retort of “Ow!’ from the supposedly unconscious woman.” I forgive ye, brother. I believe for alla yer faults and mistakes, ye nivvir meant the clan n’harm, and had ye known ye... well, yuir track record says otherwise, but I'd like to think that if ye knew ye woulda poot a stop to it. I believe that, and for bein a dumbarse… I forgive yeh.”

Looking back to the small furry girl who smiled so beatifically at her, and the tall Tellarite who was holding back a tear or two, Fiona O’Dell took heart that she had made the right choice. She had chosen to show her daughter that family forgives, and that the way to deal with hatred and intolerance was not with petty revenge, but with acceptance, understanding, and forgiveness.

“You might forgive him, but the courts will yet have their say,” the Constable interjected, motioning to get Kathryn O’Dell on her feet. “If ye’d be so kind as to pack ‘em in me paddywagon outside, It’d be much appreciated, ladies.”

As the burly Security officer trotted the accused out, the curvaceous Commander Paris knelt down next to the grieving girl who had lost so much in so short a time, placing her hand on the young woman’s shoulder. “I’m sorry this happened, Ensign. I;’m sorry that we had to get involved, and I’m sorry your family’s dirty laundry had to be aired in public this way.”

“Nae worries, mum,” O’Dell replied easily. “Starfleet stepped in and made sure me Mum and me da got justice, and that made sure the guilty willnae go unpoonished. For that, I tank the captain for steppin in. ye dinna have ta do thar fuir me, mum, and I know that. I’m grateful to ye for this… and Clan O’Dell nivvir forgets a good turn. Thankye, Cap’n.”

"You should thank Representative O'Reilly and the constable as well. As soon as the Representative got word from the Constabulary, he looked you up to see which ship you were on, then contacted me without even knowing which command we were under to ask us to investigate. His people were still drawing up the official request when I interrupted your conversation." Enalia smiled that lopsided piratical grin of hers and bowed her head to Fiona. "But of course, the Representative called back later to inform me of the local authorities' desires to stay out of our way due to my... Reputation."

The buxom Trill captain then turned to Dana. "Speaking of which, Miss Nyn, please add it to the official record that, for any inconvenience we may have caused, the Artans will match whatever inheritance Fiona, Briaar, and Minerva O'Dell receive from the estate at the time of either of their honorable discharges from Starfleet or upon Minerva's coming of age, whatever that may be for a Minotaur. Furthermore, we will have food and medical supplies provided to all persons in the community at large for the same reason."

"Aye, my Queen," Dana replied instantly as she pulled out that scroll-shaped PaDD and scrawled some notes on it.

Kneeling down, Briaar tried to distract herself from crying with what felt like half of the Hera's senior staff in the room, so she picked up her and Fiona's furry little girl and gave her a hug. "You hear all that, Minnie. You're officially an O'Dell girl now. Just like your Mum, right?"

Returning the hug, little Minnie made that strange little blend of a coo and a moo as she squeaked out. "Ike Mum!"

As she did, Briaar couldn't help but chuckle as she turned to where Jaeih had just been a moment ago. "N' I guess you weren't kidding when you said you were gonna do some diggin', right 'Miss McGov'... Where the hell did she go?" But as the towering Tellarite looked around, the mercurial Romulan was nowhere to be seen, having seemed to have slipped away when nobody was watching.

“Tisn’t like Mrs. Dox to stick around for the mooshy parts, ye know that luv,” Fiona declared, then turned to her nephew. “Darby, run home and fetch yuir faaather and tell him to meet us at the poob. As for the rest of ye,” O’Dell raised her voice to be heard. “Alreet, ya gang of officers, petty and line, yuir on me home planet, and tis time to obey local tradition. We’ve solved the mystery and the guilty will face joostice. Now alla ye are obliged to coom to the poob and raise a pint to me Da. So let’s away, aye?

“Because after all, tradition is what binds families together…”

“Bitches, I frickin’ OWN you, now! Briaar Fricking Gavarus for the WIN!” The two-meter tall Tellarite engineer proclaimed as she pumped her thick, three-fingered fist in the air and took a massive swig of her beer as she stomped over and yanked her darts out of the weathered old dartboard of the Mariposian pub called The Bottom of the Barrel.

Walking back, she actually strutted, waving her arms at the two, thickly built redheaded men that were standing at the line of demarcation on the floor in front of the dartboard. Fergus and Maxwell O’Dell were staring at Briaar in mild disbelief. The taller of the two, Fergus, had a thick fro of red curls and an equally thick and bushy beard, but no mustache to speak of as he looked at the portly porcine and grumbled. “How ‘n th’ FOOK did’ye fook the both’a us!? Yer a fookin’ SHAAAAArk, ye’ are!”

“Damn frickin’ skippy! Me and your sister are in Ten Forward almost every night throwin’ darts. I’s got SKILLS!” Gavarus said with a broad, unguarded grin, as she was proud of herself for beating the two Irish stereotypes in their own local pub. “Hey, Fee! I WON!!!

Calling across the pub on the homeworld of the tiny test pilot, Fiona O’Dell, there were several members of the U.S.S. Hera mingling and drinking, as was tradition, with the locals. Captain Enalia Telvan and her Artan legal aide, Dana Nyn, were at a corner table with Commander Rita Paris. Who was bouncing the miniature minotaur, Minerva Moo O’Dell, on her knee. At another table sat two massive women in Starfleet gold: Klingon Petty Officer’s V’Nus and S’Rina Wil’I’Ams, who were nursing the largest beers available and seeming to enjoy scowling at anyone that looked at them funny, which was pretty much everyone.

At the bar, Fiona sat, nursing a much smaller beer next to the even larger mountain of muscle, Petty Officer Ethel Jablonski, who was keeping an eye on her friend who was still a bit morose from the tragic and chaotic events of the day. “Oh, hey there, Fiona. Briaar there sure is whippin’ yer brothers there.”

"Oh aye, a good for her, eh? T'will make 'em respect 'er, and they'll like that she kin drink like one's the boys. Me society is patriarchal, and tis good the menfolk of the family know me girl's a force ta be reckoned with." As Gavarus approached, O'Dell held up her arms in a cheer, beer bottle in hand. "There's me stout beauty! Didye leave enow o'me brother's manhoods ta guarantee a few more generations of O'Dell's, Briaar? Or tis this where their branches wither off, aye?"

"Well, I'll let 'em stick around if they c'n keep up with me..." Briaar said as she came over and gave her pint-sized partner a hug with a smile before plopping down on a stool next to her. "But they can't keep up with me! TWO stomachs, bitches! Twice the storage capacity! Just TRY drinking that under the table! HA!" 

The tipsy Tellarite yelled across the room at the defeated O'Dell boys, holding up her glass. Then, turning back to Fiona, she leaned in conspiratorially. "So, do ya' think we could take the Captain and Commander in a doubles match?"

“Could we? Oh aye, we could. Should we? Naaaaay, that’s a right terrible idea. Ye know neither of ‘em can throw a dart worth a shite wi’ them big wobbly weights they’re carryin’ aboot. Instead, howzaboot we dinna embarrass them and we keep it on a nice even keel in these parts, aye?”

That was when a handsome man strode in- there was a touch of grey in his sandy blonde beard, and his thick hair was styled and neatly combed. He looked every inch the dashing man about town, and as he entered the pub, he was greeted with shouts of congratulations and welcome. Behind him, like a sullen wall, was Duncan O’Dell. While you had to squint a bit to see commonalities in the handsome face of the younger man and the haggard bloated older man, still they were there.

Which might have been enough to clue Gavarus in that this was yet another of Fiona’s brothers, save that the little lass in question was immediately up, ran delicately along the rail around the bar, then launched herself in a flying tackle at the ruggedly handsome individual. Who was unsurprised at her approach, and caught the winsome aviatrix with practiced ease.

“WALLY! I was beginin’ ta wonder if Duncan ate ye!” Fiona squealed in delight, even as her brother laughed, hooking an arm beneath her rear to hold her as one would a child.

“Hullo, wee Fiona. How’s me daredevil test pilot little sister, who braved the stars and alla space joost to come back to pay her respects, aye?” As he said the words, she grinned and hugged him tightly once more, then she pointed down the bar.

“C’mon, ye got to meet me partner, so’s she kin find oot that alla the O’Dell men are nae wastes of flesh or lousy at darts,” Fiona declared, pointing the way to the salty space swine.

But after the last few days, Briaar was at least a little suspicious of anyone new and just drunk enough to let it show on her face with a light scowl. As she did, she felt a firm but gentle nudge from Big Ethel, still sitting with her unlikely friends. Unlikely, if only really due to just how strong of a crush Briaar had for the farmgirl that could bench press a combine now. "C'Mon, Briaar. Don't have a sour puss on ya'. This one looks nice enough, and Fiona clearly likes him. Lighten up."

Rolling her eyes slightly, the temperamental Tellarite took a swig of beer and half-whispered, "Yeah, yeah. Still wouldn't mind if you kicked the shit out of the other piece of shit for what he put Fee through."

Then, as they got closer, Briaar raised an eyebrow and hopped off of her stool, just to show off how tall she was, even though she was no real fighter. Looking down at the newcomer, she tilted her head and smiled a little, waiting to get his measure and clearly looking like it. "So, you're... Wallace? I'm Briaar. Briaar Gavarus. I'm Fiona's girlfriend."

"Aye, the great space swine, the brilliant engineer who keeps me sister in the air.... well, in space I suppose. And the Mom to her mum wi' the little maiden minotaur, aye?" Sticking out his hand with a grin, the Irishman took Gavarus' three-fingered mitt into his own and shook it enthusiastically. "Wallace O'Dell, but Fioooona's better half kin call me Wally, aye?"

Looking from the surprised expression on Briaar's face, then to Fiona's, the handsome bearded fellow with the twinkle in his eye shook his head. "Da told me all aboot ye. I was still stoppin by every week to catch oop with him and have some lunch, but he was alllll aboot ye three, after that call ye made. Got his arse otta bed and he got busy livin... welll, right up until, aye?" Wally paused at that, brows furrowing as a wave of grief slid over him, as these things were wont to do. Fiona reached out and took her brother's rough, stained workman's hand in her own. Bolstered by the contact, the new head of Clan O'Dell nodded, then continued.

"He was proud fit ta burstin over all ye've doon in Staarfleet, and he said this one was a rum sort, and he was lookin' for'd ta drinkin ye under the table ta find out yuir intentions t'ward his daaater, y'ken?" Clapping Gavarus on the shoulder, Wallace grinned winningly, and in that expression, Briaar Gavarus could see the family resemblance to her own Fiona.

While still a bit on guard, Wallace was undeniably charming and even disarmed Briaar's attempts at staying judgmental. "My intentions? You're lookin' at 'em, Wally. We make each other happy. We have fun. We raise our little Minnie Moo and try to do right by her. An' like you said, I keep her in the air when we're working. An' she brings me up there with her in every way that counts."

"So, you're not the asshole brother, obviously. An' you're not the priest or the ones that suck at darts. Are you the one that took her flying when she was a kid?" Briaar asked with a raised eyebrow.

That brought a warm smile to his face, and Wallace nodded. “Aye, guilty as charged. Littlest thing ye ivvir seen, but when I put her on my lap in the cockpit of my puddlejumper and put her wee doll hands on the stick, her eyes opened up and for the first time, it was something SHE wanted to do, not what Da and Margret wanted of her. She begged me to teach her to fly, and I could ne’er say no to me baby sister. Up there amongst the clouds, she was a natural, even ere she could reach the pedals.”

In reverie, it was clear that Wally was revisiting the memories in his head, and the crinkle around his eyes and the smile on his face made it clear that he was reliving fond memories. It also made it clear just who he was in relation to Fiona… the big brother she looked up to, who had helped her reach for her dreams.

“Speakin’ a miss Minnie, where is that adorable little scamp?” he asked, looking around exaggeratedly. “Where could I possibly find a wee furry Minotaur lass here in the public house? Who would bring such a babe to a poob?”

It was clear his gaze had passed over Minnie, winking at Commander Paris as he did so, but he still offered his ‘hide and seek’ to try to delight the small child to whom he was improbably related. Of course, given the size, shape and disposition of Fiona’s brothers, it seemed just as improbable that she was related to them.

"We bring Minnie everywhere we go. An' she likes it. She pretty much can't get hurt by much and she loves the attention." Briaar said as she stepped over beside Wallace, putting an arm around Fiona's shoulder as she did. 

Meanwhile, little Minnie had noticed that someone was calling her name and looking for her and her big, brown eyes lit up and a grin spread across her face as she continued to sit on Rita's lap. Bouncing a bit excitedly, the tiny tot bit the bottom of her lip and looked at the comely Commander in gold as she ducked down to hide from Wallace in, perhaps, the most unlikely place she could: Under Rita's prodigious bosom.

While she did, her stubby but still pronounced black horns popped up, still visible, over the crest of Rita's assets.

Moving about to make a wide-eyed expression of surprise, Wallace O’Dell spotted his unusual niece hiding behind the prodigious bosom of the old-fashioned officer, and his face lit up in a delighted grin. “There she is! There’s mah wee niece! Come to Unca Wally, aye?”

At that, Wallace held out his hands, and while Minnie reached for him in response, Paris looked to the unlikely duo who were the devoted and doting parents of the child for permission. As Fiona nodded her assent, Paris hoisted the youngster up to Wally, who immediately held the babe up high, at the extent of his arm’s reach.

“Well joost lookit you, m’darlin! Yuir joost a handful ov adorable, ye are, aye? Aye? And I’ll joost bet your like yuir mum, aye?” With that said, Wallace ‘flew’ the youngster about, supporting her with his arms as he spun her about and simulated flying with her. In doing so, he looked years younger, and somehow it was quite easy to imagine him doing the same with a small mop-topped redhead once upon a time, that similarly inspired her with dreams of flying. The care and warmth he exuded in doing so made it clear that he found delight in this, and in the excited, happy squeals emitted by the hooved heifer as he spun about, others in the pub giving him a berth with which to work.

It was clear that Wally was good with children, as well as the fact that this was something he did with kids in the pub- ‘flew’ them about, much to their delight.

"Okay, well Minnie Moo likes ya' so I guess I can lighten up on a little bit there, Wally." Briaar said, slamming back a huge swig of her beer. Considering the distressful circumstances, the portly porcine felt fully justified in flipping the expectations on the dynamic of 'meeting the family' and was sizing each of Fiona's brothers up, one by one, to determine if they were worthy of their own sister. Alcohol, of course, made this dynamic a bit easier for her to flip.

Meanwhile, in the rear of the pub, the thick and ponderous Duncan O'Dell stood watching with a pronounced scowl on his face that he clearly didn't mind if anyone else saw. At least until the mountainous Ethel Jablonski met his eyes and hers narrowed. She was still very much on duty as far as she was concerned, and more than her charges, Fiona and Briaar were her friends. So she made sure it was clear from a simple stare and a flex that Duncan should mind his manners. And for the moment, at least, he was complying.

With the happily clapping Minotaur clearly enamored of her new favorite uncle, said gentleman in question turned to the two seated senior officers. “So you two must be Fiona’s… what, bosses? I’m Wallace, Fi’s brother. We’ve heard quite a bit about you… particularly of late,” Wally spared a glance at his brother, who lifted his pint, and Wallace nodded in reply. “So I imagine it’s best I thank you two for getting her here, and unraveling that business with Kathryn.”

As he said the words, he spat on the ground after speaking the name of the murderess who had slain his father and stepmother. Minnie, puzzled, spat as well, to which he nodded smartly. “Right ye are, wee Minnie. We spit upon even her name, and she’ll know naught but shunning from our clan from this day for’d.”

"Well, if Minnie likes you, you're a good man in my book," Enalia said, standing and offering a handshake to the new Laird of O'Dell Manor. "I'm Captain Enalia Telvan, Fiona's CO, and this is Commander Rita Paris, my First Officer. It's been a pleasure sampling the local flavors. I just wish we had come here on more pleasant business."

There was no small amount of pride that swelled the chest of the elder O’Dell, and he bowed a bit to the Captain. “Aye, better tidings would ha’been preferable, mum. Me family owes you and yours a debt, to be certain. I will say… me wee bebeh sister seems happier than I’ve seen her since she was knee-high to a grasshopper. Me Da told me that she’s a test pilot for ye, and that she’s done well on yuir ship. For that, yuir intercession on her and our behalf, and the fact that yuir showin' the Federation ta be as good as their word…” Wallace paused to eye his little sister, who was hugging the titanic Tellarite to whom she was paired, and a knowing smile creased his face. When he spoke again, his voice was a bit lower, but he did not try to hide what he was saying from the subjects of his speech.

“Fiona was… well, she was never interested in innyone, and she was so determined to prove herself… I was afraid she’d be alone for the rest of her days, and I dinna want that for me baby sister, y’ken? But lookit her… got herself a gal who’ll take not a lick of shite, and an adorable wee one… aye, that’s you, Miss Minnie,” Wally stroked the hair of the toddler on his hip, then leaned over to kiss the top of the toddler's head. “As for the local spirits, that I’ll take as a point of personal pride. Tis O’Dell’s Own yuir drinkin’ there, and that’s me distillery. I used the family recipe, and when we settled on Mariposa there were no proper single malts to be found, joost… replicated. Which isnae bad, mind, but we prefer the old ways, y’ken? I’ll be happy to send ye off wi’ a few cases when tis time fuir ye to take to the stars agin. Least we kin do, all things considered.”

"Then perhaps you'd be willing to come to a trade agreement regarding it?" the buxom captain queried, her grin widening. "The Artans are always looking for new markets for our products - home-brewed ales and brandies, medical supplies, canned foods and rations being the main bulk of them. As Queen, I called in my personal lawyer and in order to get here in time, she had to commandeer one of our largest bulk cruisers and I'm told they have around thirty tonnes of cargo they're willing to trade, should the opportunity arise."

"And as a connoisseur of alcoholic beverages, I believe your fine beverage may be just that opportunity."

The cheerful Laird of the O’Dell’s turned to look to his little sister, who nodded sagely. In that one questioning look was the entirety of the questions at hand- Is she for real? Do you trust this woman? Is this a deal you stand behind? The sagacious slow nod of the shortest sibling of the O’Dell clan was enough for Wallace, and he turned to address Minerva on his hip. “Looks like yuir captain knows her fine spirits, aye? That’s right, wee Minnie, she knows a damn good whiskey when she tastes it, mm hmm. So it looks like the O’Dell Distillery is g’win ta enter into a trade agreement wi’ the… Artans, ye say?”

Extending his hand with a broad smile, Wallace O’Dell apparently planned to make a deal on the spot, and seal it with a handshake.

"Wallace O'Dell," Enalia began, returning the handshake with a smile. "Welcome to your first day of being an intergalactic brand."

"Ohhhh, I like the sound'a that. Dye like the sound 'a that Miss Minnie, aye?" At that, Wally O'Dell, laird of Clan O'Dell and the Irishman who could inspire children to want to fly, set his bovine niece on her tiny hooves, and began to dance a jig with her, there on the spot. As the wee one laughed and hopped about a bit emulating his lively dance, he looked to his wee sister. The only one who had left this paradise their forefathers had brought them to, a land of plenty with good soil and temperate weather. A world of rains, that intermingled with the intermittent sun to grow lush greenery across the hills and valleys.

With a gleam in her eye, Fiona O'Dell capered out to the dance floor, dragging the beefy three-fingered hand of her best friend with her. Even as she started to tug, the feet of the pilot whose callsign was 'Leprechaun' were already in motion, dancing a merry jig all their own as others hiked their skirts and kilts and began to dance along, whilst a song struck up from a band of old men in the corner who produced and began to play a lute, a squeezebox, and a flute.

Thankfully, the basics of the 'jig' had been well taught to the tipsy Tellarite during the recent bachelorette party they had attended on Risa, where Briaar had unexpectedly shown some skills. And here, on her partner's homeworld, her hooves clicking on the old, tile stone floors of the Public House, she was a hit as others hooted and clapped for her big pig jig. As she did, she yelled over to Fergus and Maxwell, who were nursing pints and their bruised egos over losing at darts, "C'Mon, you two! Get yer asses over here and dance! Ya' gotta be better at this then darts!"

In unison, both brothers raised their hands to flip off the dancing swine, who let out a massive belly laugh and just kept dancing with her partner, Wally, and Minnie as they capered in celebration. For true to her word, Captain Enalia Telvan would indeed make O'Dell's Own, and all of the subsidiary products, an intergalactic brand that would join the ranks of Romulan Ale and Saurian Brandy, as Irish Whiskey claimed its place amongst the stars.

Through the exclusive distribution of the Artan Trading Fleet.

Watching the pub erupt into gaiety and dance, Rita grinned, enjoying the quaint atmosphere that really felt a lot like being home on Earth. A stern-faced matron dropped herself in the chair the Captain had abandoned when she'd been pulled into the dance by Wallace O'Dell. The local woman's hair was grey, and her clothes more simple homespun than most of her neighbors. But the shawl she wore bore intricate needlework, and it was clear that her warm brown eyes missed little. Glancing over Rita's uniform disapprovingly, the woman raised her chin towards the buxom blonde.

"Ye're with Staaarfleet then, are ye, missy?" The older woman's tone clearly indicated some level of disbelief. Which could have been because Rita's outdated delta wasn't a modern Starfleet emblem, to be fair.

"I am indeed Starfleet, ma'am. Commander Rita Paris... and you are?" The experienced explorer, sensing an encounter with a local, offered her hand.

Eyeing the hand as an unexpected turn of manners, the elderly woman took the hand and made the introduction, if a bit grudgingly. "Brenna O'Dell, pleasetameetchye. I seem to recall that Staaarfleet wore more... pants..."

"Mmmmmm, it's a long story. Look, did you just come over to let me know that you disapprove of my outfit? Because if so, we can get that over with and move on, disapproval noted. I..." Rita gestured dramatically to the ceiling. "Am... not of your... planet. Your ways are.... not... my ways..."

"Well, I think ye look like a tart showin yer altogether in alla that, boot that's yuir business," Brenna O'Dell sniffed dismissively, then arranged herself on her chair, like a hen settling on an egg."Ah knew a Commander in Staaarfleet once. Quite the muckity-muck these days, I hear. Big man. Lotsa pull."

"When me niece, the little moppet there... when she wanted ta go to the Academy, none would take 'er serious, aye? Joost a wee widget wi' too much wrong with her, they says. Aye, she's quick an' smart an' she's a right clever puss, magic wi' her hands, she should be a musician, says all. But tisn't what's in her heart, y'ken? All her life she spent runnin' from where she belonged, like she was tryin' ta find where she did, strewth?"

"So me, I calls that dashing commander I once did knoow. Ask'im how things are doin, an aye, he's a wife and children, home and hearth noow. I asks him for a favor, for an old friend, aye? He says ta me," The old woman leaned in conspiratorially, and Rita leaned in a bit to indulge her.

"He says to me, he says 'Miss O'Dell, there are so many qualified candidates from all over the galaxy, and only so many billets to be filled'. So I says 'Aye, tis true, that. Well, if not wee Fiona wi' her clever hands, what aboot me own boy? He's the one at the bar, there, the one wi' the hair an' the beard, smile that lights oop a room?" Looking over, sure enough, there was a handsome and dashing young man who stood out from the rest. His thick dark hair and neatly-trimmed beard made him look like a Starfleet hero.

It dawned on Rita Paris what the woman was driving at as the man, who was around Rita's own age, smiled, and damned if it didn't light up the room. Turning back to the old woman, the face of the old-fashioned officer wore an expression of being suitably impressed.

"I'd nivvir breathe a word uvvit, nor bring that sorta shame upon me dear Billy. He's a good lad, and he looves his Mum. But it got our smidgen oot inta space, an' sure as she claimed, once she got oot there in the universe... it looks like she found her a place where she belonged."

The picayune pilot danced a merry jig, leading the bovine toddler, patiently teaching her the dance before being twirled onto the shoulder of her paunchy porcine partner. Watching the little woman forget her pain of loss and celebrate life and the living with her odd little family, the first officer was inclined to agree.

Amongst the stars, Fiona O'Dell had finally found where she belonged... on the USS Hera.

The journey to Mariposa had been a bittersweet homecoming for Fiona O'Dell. The Captain had interceded on her behalf and redirected the Hera to mariposa, whereupon the crew of the Hera had uncovered the murder plot enacted by Kathryn O'Dell, wife of Fi's eldest brother Duncan. While he had been cleared of murder charges (although he was still being charged with the lesser aiding and abetting charges), his wife was standing trial for two counts of first-degree murder. Control of the clan and the manor was given over to Wallace, the second born, and the monies had been split between the other six children.

For herself, Fiona had refused her share, requesting only that Minnie's inheritance (which the Captain had offered to double) be invested and held for her until she was an adult, so that the behest of her father to see the Minotaur daughter of his youngest be embraced by the clan, and cared for after his death.

His death... Fiona was still having some difficulty wrapping her head around the fact that her parents were both dead, murdered by a Bringloidian social climber who had done so merely to claim what was theirs as her own, and likely would have murdered Duncan next had her perfidity not been uncovered.

Now that the crime had been solved, the will found by her clever daughter who had a knack for mazes, and order restored to the O'Dell household once more, a day and night of drinking had ensued. With the ebullient O'Dell leading the crew and the locals in rousing pub songs, telling stories of her father and his exploits (while Briaar told a few of Fiona's the certainly got laughs), she had gotten as drunk as possible for her, and eventually had to be literally carried home by her considerably larger and stronger mate, the tall Tellarite who had started out as a friend, whom Fiona still had some hesitation admitting that she loved. Although only when sober.

With Fiona tucked into her old bed, with which was far too small for the paunchy porcine, Briaar had chosen to lay flat on the floor instead, as Fiona's childhood bed was still a child's size. With Minnie sprawled atop her prodigious belly, Gavarus had passed out to begin snoring when Fiona had clambered out of bed to curl up next to her partner, folding herself up in a fetal position in the crook of Briaar's arm, like a small ginger feline.

As she slept, the littlest O'Dell dreamed. It was there that her father came to her door- hale, hearty and whole, in the prime of his life, and beckoned for her to come out into the hall. As this was a dream, she did not question the turn of events- instead, ever the dutiful daughter, she followed her father downstairs to his study, where she found him in his comfortable red leather armchair, smoking his briarwood pipe, waiting for her.

The last time Fiona had seen William Angus Joseph Campbell O'Dell in her holocall to him, her father was gaunt and pale, his hair white and wispy. At the time, she didn't know he had been a victim of months of systematic, gradual poisoning. He just looked like a frail old man. But sitting in that large, plush chair setting his pipe down on the small, ornate wooden end table, was a much younger man. His face was full and his cheeks pink. His hair was still a wavy, thick auburn mass of curled locks and his deep, green eyes sat below thick, bushy brows. A broad, warm, welcoming smile was on his face.

"Come closer, Fiona. Sit, sit. I'm glad ya' could come. I've missed seein' you. But ye look troubled." Angus said, leaning forward and crossing his hands between his legs. His hands were as big and strong as Fiona remembered them, knuckles dirty from working in the family fields. The fields he loved tending to, despite the lack of need with replication technology. But he kept the old ways alive, as had his father before him, and his father before him. "Ye know I don' like t' ee that face lookin' s'sad. Now tell me what's botherin' ye, daaarlin'?"

Searching her feelings, Fiona realized she was carrying a great sadness, and in that moment she realized that her father was dead, so this had to be a dream, Smiling through tears, she reached out to stroke her father's face. "Because yuir gone, Da. I was gone s'long, and then we talked and Briaar and me were excited aboot comin ta see ya, then... we got the call from Duncan, and..."

It had been less than a week since she lad learned of her father's death, and only today had she walked the grounds, seen her childhood home once more and paid her respects as the murder plot was uncovered. The grief and the wound were still both fresh for her, and she began to weep freely.

"I'm sad because yuir all dead now, Da, ye and Mum, and I'll nivvir get the chance to tell ye how much I love ye, how much ye mean to me, how so much of who I am I learned from you and Mum... where's Mum, innyways? If this is some cockamamie dream, isnae Mum supposed to be here too?" Sniffling and chuckling as tears rolled down her cheeks, the midget Miradonian shook her head. "Ye nivvir got to hold Minnie for real, nivvir got to meet Briaar and understand why she's wi' me. And noow... now ye nivvir will, and every time I think of it me heart breaks all over agin."

"Gone... pah. That's a bunch a' bunk, me Fiona. Ah'm right here, right now. N' I see you, Briaar and th' wee one every day." Angus said, scoffing and rolling his eyes as if Fiona were still a child trying to put one over on him. "Ah'm here because I'm meant t' be here. Ah'm here b'cause you need t' see me an' talk t'me, but it could only be me, aye? Yuir Ma thought it would be best if t'were me. I c'n say, you've made some pretty impressive friends out there on that staaarship a'yourn."

"So, talk t' me, Fiona, me wee darlin. I've missed that smilin' face'a yours. I'm here, an' yuir here. Tell me what ye' want t' tell me. Git it offa yuir chest, sweetheart." Angus said, sitting back and patting his knee like old times.

Climbing up onto her father's lap, which she'd not been able to do for years with his bad back ans sciatica, Fiona wrapped her arms around her father's neck and rested her head against his chest, even as he brought his arms in to hold her, making her feel as safe as she did with Briaar Gavarus. "I'm sorry I wasnae there, Da. I'm sorry I couldnae be the daughter ye wanted. I learned all me lessons and I practiced- I still do, ye know, and Briaar and Minnie are pretty good aboot it. But oot amongst the stars, I found where I belonged, for true."

"Even though I left, I want ye to know twas nivvir aboot gettin away from ye. Me brothers a bit maybe, and that wretched cocksucker of a horse's ass Father Donald, fuir sure. maybe some of the small-mindedness of the folk... I had to punch Tommy McKinney in the throat tonight because he wouldna stop taintin' Briaar wi' piggy jokes. But... I want ye to know, twas nivvir because I dinna love ye, Da." Pulling back, the little lass of the heather eyed her father, those eyes she had inherited from him. "E'en oot amongst the stars, I wear me O'Dell tartan. On the wall of me quarters is hung our coat of arms, and when she's old enow, Minnie'll know it and be able to speak to alla the heraldry of the clan. I'm nae on Mariposa... well, I am tonight, aye? But Clan O'Dell is proudly represented in the far reaches o'space, Da. Because I'm proud of where I come from... and who."

At that, Fiona's eye filled with tears and her face scrunched up, and she buried her face in her father's chest, weeping for the loss she'd suffered. Knowing this dream was likely the last conversation she would have with her father, if only imaginary. Yet she smelled his pipe tobacco, she could smell the peat on his shoes he hadn't scraped off before coming in, as he often did when she was young. She could feel the sofdt flannel of his work shirt, the green plaid shot through with red and gold and black.

A dream it may have been, but it felt like her father, so that was enough for her to cry like a lost child in his arms for a few moments, the pain still coming in waves of grief that crashed over her, sumberging her for a moment or two... like this one.

"Shhh... Shhh... just let it out, m'dear. Shhh..." Angus said as she stroked his daughter's curly red hair and held her tight to him. "Fiona, m'dear. I may not have allays said it right, n' I may not have always understood or been what ye' needed me to be, but all ah've ever wanted was fer you t' be happy. So, tell me true and look me in the eyes, sweetheart."

"Are you happy?"

It still took a few moments for Fiona's grief to run it's course, because her father's words made her cry that much harder for a moment or two. But slowly she managed to compose herself, wiping her snot on the back of her hand and using the palms of her hands to mop at her eyes. Taking a few deep centering breaths, she straightened up, almost regally, but most certainly like a lady, and looked her father in the eye, a small smile gracing her thin lips.

"Aye, Da. I fly... well, I fly experimental spacecraft, and I'm the dog's bollocks at it. Briaar's me mechanic, and we work good together, y'ken? And we drink together and make jokes an' harrass people, and... tis good. I get to fly the big starship... Cap'n said I did good, and I fought in a space battle... well, two now, coom ta think of it. I'm good at me joab and they like me doin' it, Da. I work with me partner, and we do somme amazing shite for that chicken and giraffe, and they show us some pretty amazing technology."

"Briaar and me were happy enough, but then came Minnie, and... wahhhl, y'ken. One look in them big broown eyes and we was sunk. Truly, she's a wonderful little tyke, and a good girl. She listens, she behaves, and she's joost got the sunniest disposition, Da... she's honestly such a joyful creature ye canna help but love her. I dinna tellye, but... there's a very old Greek goddess that lives on the ship... aye, shite ye not. Because of her bein' there, sometimes babies are born... special."

"Like our wee Minerva?" Angus filled in the blank, and Fiona nodded.

"Aye, like our Minnie. She's more'n six months old, Da, but she's getting stronger every day... like, strong enough to start yankin Briaar around. And heavy for her size... last weigh-in she was more'n five stone," Fiona explained, trying to give her father an idea of just how magical her daughter truly was. "I'm too spindly an' weak, I canna carry her n'more. We're workin' on a personal inertial dampener so's it'll slow her doown and make things harder for her until she kin develop some control of her own. I mean, she's six months old, Da. And she found yuir secret passage, found the will, brought her grammy to it and brought both of 'em back oot, like she was makin' a potty, pretty as ye please."

"We've good shipmates, good friends, family and jobs we like that are challengin' and rewardin. Aye, Da... the only thing missing in me life is ye and Mum." At that, Fiona's smile tried to crinkle into a frown, but she refused to let it- instead pressing on. "But she'll know ye- she'll know ye both, and I'll tell her stories, and teach her all ye and Mum taught me, and I'll keep our traditions alive in her. So that... in that way, ye'll allays be with me, aye?"

By the time she made it to the end of her little speech, Fiona had broken down to cry again, and once more she took advantage of the dream, and hugged herself to her father. It was an odd experience to take comfort in a visit with the ghost of her father. But Irish folktales were filled with accounts of such things, and Fiona knew well those tales and legends. Because they had been handed down from generation to generation, and even carried by colonists to distant stars.

To faraway worlds, light-years from Ireland, where redheaded little girls who had lost their fathers, might not be at all surprised to be visited in the night, and comforted by their ghosts.

Rubbing his daughter's back, Angus beamed a warm, calming smile as he looked down at his wee Fiona. It was an expression the tiny test pilot had seen a thousand times, and generally it did help calm her down a bit. "Aye. Yuir mum and I will never be far from ye, heart of me heart. We'll be keeping an eye on all three of ye', so's ye know. We'll allays be there for alla ye', in spirit at least. Ye carry us with ye in yuir heart, and ye'll ne'er be alone. Anytime ye' feel like ye' don't know what yer doin', jus think of us. Think about what we woulda doon. Or think about what we mucked, up an' do th' opposite."

"But ye' got Briaar, an' it's clear even from here that she loves ye' an' will do inythin' for you and our little one. Yuir nae alone, my darlin. Ye' never were, and ye never will be." Angus declared said, running his fingers through Fiona's red, curly locks.

"I knoow I dinna live the life ye wanted fuir me, Da. But..." Fiona paiused, hating herself for wanting to ask the question, but asking it all the same. "Did... did I make ye proud? I know tis unfair to ask, but sure'n I've allays tried to be a true daughter of clan O'Dell, to carry us to the stars and... well, to make sure that when people speak the name of our clan, they do so wi' respect, for all our forbears who got us here. To be a respectable representative of our people, and to do Mariposa... and Bringoidi... proud."

Looking down at Fiona, Angus' eyes teared up as he pulled her closer and held on to her just a little tighter. There was a tremble to his voice that cut through the heart of the young woman as he spoke, "Oh, my darlin'. Oh, If only I could tell ye' every day how proud I am of ye. On... on my most stubborn day when I raged and griped like a child, there was always pride. Even when I wanted somethin' different for ye', I was proud that ye' stood on yuir own an' tol' alla us t' pess oaff. Yuir yer own woman, Fiona. But yuir an O'Dell, through and through. And yuir my girl. An' you make me so proud. Yuir mum, too. I swear it to ye."

Then, as he held her tight, there was a light from the door to the hall, and a gentle breeze that seemed to drift in with a smell of lavender and pine. It was like the first breath of spring as Angus looked up, wiping his eyes and pursing his lips as he nodded sharply. "It's me time now, little one."

"Thankye, Da," Fiona whispered, hugging her father tightly one last time, knowing that whether this was a drunken dream or a ghostly visitation, it mattered not to her. What mattered was that she got to say all she needed to say to her dear father, even after he'd passed from this world to the next. "I'll miss ye, Da. I'll miss ye every day, ye and Mum both. I'll keep makin ye proud, and Minnie, she'll make ye proud too. She'll be the next O'Dell amongst the stars, and she'll know her kin, and who got her there. Me and Briaar, we'll raise her up right and teach her all she needs to know to be proud to be an O'Dell, I promise ye."

Squeezing her father tightly one more time, Fiona slid off his lep, then she braced her elbows by her side and turned to help her father stand, out of reflexive habit. Taking her hand in his own, he rose effortlessly- a man still vital and in his prime, at least in this dream. Holding his hand until the reached the door, Fiona's face contorted in a smile marred by tears.

"Goodbye, Da. Up the long ladder, aye?"

"And down the short rope, m'dove," Angus replied as he stepped through the doorway into the light, and the dream faded into white light.

In the morning, Fiona O'Dell would not recall the dream, for such was the nature of such things. But that morning, and from that day forth, she would proceed about her life with a sense of pride... somehow secure in the knowledge that she made her ancestors proud with her deeds and words.

True to her promise, Fiona and Briaar Gavarus would raise Minerva Moo Mary Margret Mona O'Dell to know well of her heritage, and to be proud of it as she carried the traditions of her people to the stars.

Dr. Mah stepped out of the turbo lift with her PaDD in hand on deck 14 typing as she was heading toward the nursery with pocketsful of goodies for the kids and a medical tricorder in hand to check them all out after the recent events of the past few weeks. It didn't hurt she also adored children so she thought it would be a good time to get to know the youngest passengers on the ship under her care. Never in her career did she imagine 33 youngsters with so many on the way but that was okay, she would sort out how the ship had gone baby-crazy later. For now, she would enjoy a more manageable amount of little ones. She entered the area to see a wee female minotaur racing in front of her, being chased by a much smaller, spotted green baby crawling on her hands and knees after her, and hearing giggles all around her. Her first priority, adults in charge of the tiny ones before beginning exams.

"Umm.... hello?" Tova paused as little eyes turned her way curiously.

Following calmly behind the green baby was a lean, older Romulan-looking woman who raised her eyebrow slightly at the doctor as she scooped up the child. "That's enough for the moment, Moira. And Minerva, dear. Stop chasing that... leave that child alone. What did I tell you about cornering others with your horns, young lady?"

Turning to face Tova, the older woman with the shoulder-length, salt and pepper gray hair pulled into a tight pony-tail with the somewhat typically pointy bangs of Romulan military titled her head. "Would I be correct in that you are Doctor Tovanna Mah? My name is Jaeih. Jaeih Dox. These two are my responsibility, can I assist you?"

She smiled at the children, "Indeed, I'm here for the collective checkup of all the children. Usually, I like to get familiar with the kids if that is alright. Any warnings I should be aware of first?"

"I cannot speak for the majority of the children here, but our little Minerva here can be a handful to be sure." Jaeih looked down finding the fuzzy, brown-furred child in the little pink dress wandering towards the rest of the children, snorting slightly. "Minerva Moo Mary Margaret Mona O'Dell, you leave them be! This shall be the last time I say so before becoming cross with you, young lady."

Snapping slightly at Minnie, the little one flumped exaggeratedly to sit on her diapered bottom, pouting in a huff as Jaeih set Moira down next to her. "Good girl. Here you two play and if you are both good, I believe the Doctor may even have treats for you."

"My apologies, Doctor, for the distraction." The Stern patrician woman said, straightening up and giving Tova her full attention. "As a general rule, Minerva does not get along with many of the other children. If she likes you, age is quite sweet and even gentle. But it turns out that among the other children, there are few that she actually likes. Little Moira here is Captain Telvan's daughter and they get along well. There is a little blonde child... Hermione... that she also is fine with. And she seems quite taken with my grandchildren, expected within the next few weeks."

Next to the two women, the two little ones were now giggling and mock wrestling, which was an extremely uneven contest, with Minnie clearly being extremely gentle with Moira. "But when I received the request from your department for this group assessment upon our return to the ship from our visit to Mariposa, I collected my charges and brought them down, to mingle with... the general population."

Tova stifled a giggle at Minnie's indignation and nodded to Jaeih Dox, "Well then why don't I start with these lovelies so there won't be any difficulties." She sat on the floor at the children's level, "Would you like to play a game with me?" She pulled out an inert copy of her medical tricorder that beeped and lit up, as well as a hypo and other harmless items. She pulled her own medical tricorder out and set the other items out for the kids to explore and play with along with as she began her exam.

Moira grabbed the toy Tricorder and immediately began pushing the buttons and giggling at the lights and sounds. But Minnie continued to sit there and pout, her bottom lip sticking out and her little fuzzy arms crossed while she made a grumbly noise.

Tova did a quick scan of Moira with no issue as she sat between the girls cross-legged, finding the child Moira well. Minnie on the other hand showed nothing as if she didn't exist. Dr. Mah could feel a minor sense of fluctuation and giggled at her adorable look, "Well aren't you a sneaky little one." She put her tricorder away and looked at Minnie, "What's that pout for Minnie?" She glanced at Jaeih coming up with a possible idea, "Is Minnie allowed to have one of my infamous treats?"

"Her teeth are well developed and she can certainly handle solid foods, so I would see no reason why not." Jaeih replied, then leaned down and raised an eyebrow at the tiny tot, "Which, of course, depends on if she will be a good girl?"

As the stern Romulan woman stared at her fuzzy charge, the miniature Minotaur pouted a bit more, huffing a bit before uncrossing her arms and looking over at Tova with a more relaxed expression, realizing she had gotten in trouble. Then, she smiled and miraculously, the lights on the Doctor's tricorder began to blink again.

Tova looked down at her tricorder and smiled at Minnie, "Well thank you, Minnie," she did a quick scan and stored them. Some were a bit foreign to her so she would need to check them over. She put the tricorder away and giggled, "I noticed you like to be sneaky, Minnie. I bet you are really good at hide and seek too?"

Little Minerva's eyes lit up as she listened to the doctor talk, clearly understanding the core premise of one of her favorite games.

"Tell you what though, I have a lollipop for you no matter what, but I would like to see if we could play a round of hide and seek for five minutes. If I find you first you get two extra lollipops, if you can hide from me for all five minutes from me I will give your moms a whole bowl of lollipops for you." She looked at Jaeih and nodded, "When Jaeih call us to start we will go so we can play in this area until time is up and then the game ends and we both have to come back to her. Is that okay?" She looked at Jaeih hoping she would be okay with her game-style of research with Minnie.

Starting to bounce up and down, Minnie was bursting with excitement as she bit her bottom lip and went over to Jaeih and began tugging at the pant leg of the stern-looking Romulan woman. "Gammy. Gammy. C'n I? C'n I?"

Hoisting the little green baby in her arms up a little higher, Jaeih raised an eyebrow and pursed her lips putting on an exaggerated expression of incredulity. "Well... I do not know. You were being quite difficult earlier. If you promised to play nice and be your... Gammy's... good girl, I might be persuaded to allow it."

Now practically vibrating with anticipation, Minnie tugged a little harder at Jaeih's pants, and in spite of the tiny tot's physical strength, the elder Romulan stood firm. "I be good! I be good! I p'omise, Gammy."

"Oh, very well then, Minerva. You and the good Doctor can play. But you listen to her and do as your told, my dear." Jaeih said, nodding to the doctor.

Tova smiled at Jaeih and stood up from her place on the floor, "Okay Minnie, I know you will probably beat me at this. I'm going to cover my eyes and count to 10 and you go hide in this area, then I will see if I can find you until Gammy calls us. Gammy will tell us when time is up so we both have to come back here when she says, okay?" She smiled at the eager child making sure she was clear on the instructions before they began.

Looking at Tova, Minnie glanced over to Jaeih and grinned as the stern Romulan gave the slightest of nods of approval. With an excited nod, the miniature Minotaur bit her bottom lip and began to toddle around the room, on her way to hide, not even waiting for any further instructions.

Dr. Mah covered her eyes as promised and counted to ten, waiting for Minnie to hide.

After the countdown, having watched carefully where Minerva had gone off to hide and making sure on the small control PaDD she kept in her back pocket that all the doors and access points into the ships nursery area were properly sealed so the crafty young girl couldn't slip out. "I believe she had hidden herself, Doctor. What was it you wished to discuss free of her prying ears?"

Tovanna Mah didn't often let others know of certain abilities her species had, but in this case she felt it was an asset to the ship and possibly Jaeih if her suspicions held. "Indeed, as you have heard I am sure I am not human, I am El-Aurian and a rather sensitive one. As such I have the ability to feel displacements in the continuum. I noted when Minnie no longer registered on my tricorder I could feel a slight fluctuation in the energy around her and am now going to attempt to track her via that disruption. It is merely a theory. I'm unsure if it will work, but if I cannot scan a patient in my care in the future or she is not visible for some reason, I want to ensure I can find her if possible. Now let us see if such a task is possible." Tova turned around opposite of Jaeih to address Minnie, "Ready or not here I come!"

"Interesting." Jaeih said with a raised eyebrow as she watched Tova work, taking in her body language and mannerisms and taking mental note of the entire event. The former Intel operative had seen exactly where Minnie had gone and was intrigued to see that the ship's new doctor was homing in right on their tiny tot.

She closed her eyes and extended her own intuition for a small concentrated disturbance nearby. She could feel so much disturbance from the ship itself as well as some on it she had no familiarity with, but focused to tune into the bright youthful feeling of Minnie's energy. It was recent and flashed to Tova's right and felt like a bright bubble pushing through fog.

As Tova got closer to where the Miniature Minotaur was hiding, curled up behind a large potted fern in the corner of the smaller office room in the back, she began giggling with delight. Moments later, Minnie lept out, holding her stubby little arms up and yelling a squeaky, "HA!!!"

Tova laughed at Minnie and picked her up spinning around, "Gotcha, sneaky girl. You did so good!" She ruffled her hair as she carried her over to Jaeih. "I think both the girls earned extra treats, Moira you were very patient and Minnie you did a wonderful job hiding." She set the hefty bovine babe down noting she was a sturdy girl and would one day be a force not to be trifled with, "I have lollipops for you. Apple, grape, strawberry, pineapple, and for Gammy a Blackberry Merlot Mulled Wine. I will send over a bowl of lollies for both girls so their parents have some for them as well." She smiled at Jaeih, "Thank you so much for your assistance. I will get the rest of the children checked so we can finish up. It's been a pleasure to meet the littlest crewmembers."

Holding Moira, Jaeih reached down with her other hand and gently rubbed Minnie's head. "My assistance is in service to them, Doctor. My primary responsibility upon this ship are these children. I am glad to be of assistance in ensuring their care."

"With your permission, we will leave you to the rest of your work. There are a great many children here that need your care. Thank you, doctor." Jaeih said with a professional smile and a nod, not saying that she had also wanted to get the measure of the woman who was to provide medical care to her charges and, eventually, her grandchildren. And now she felt, at least, satisfied that the Hera's new doctor could, at the least, keep up with them.

Tova decided it was time to confront her demon, the thing that had been a concept until recently: Death.

All her life Death was who she blamed for the extinction of her race, the great tragedy that led to her current position. Her whole life was dictated by that 'truth' via her parents and the few remaining elders who sought to rebuild their race. Now however everything had changed, Death had a face, a frustratingly beautiful face. Why couldn't it be the horrific visage of nightmares and scary tales? She could have hated that, she could have looked upon such a face with revulsion and disgust. Now she strode down the hall on her way to apologize to the personification of the concept she had so long despised. Her behavior at the bachelorette party week plus ago now had caused distress to her crewmates. Now, with her check-in of the ship's children complete, she had to correct that. She stepped off the lift directly to the quarters of Death, also known as Masato Rei, and faced the unexpected site of security posted there.

The two large female security guards on either side of the door looked at each other nervously. After a moment of waiting, the higher ranking crewman spoke up. "Ma'am, most people just unlock the door and go in and uh... Do whatever they do. We've been told there's a VIP in there, but we've never seen them."

Dr. Mah nodded, "Thank you" she considered her next step on how to apologize as she entered her access code and stepped through the door. She stood inside the room, her hands patiently in front of her waiting.

She didn't have to wait long as from the windows came the pale woman riding upon a ghostly steed with legs that faded away and never touched the deck and eyes akin to those of black holes. As the rider brought her mount to a halt, she dismounted, her boots making less than a sound as she landed on the deck plating.

Covered in head to toe in black clothing so as to not accidentally touch the living, Rei turned to the one she sensed had entered her abode aboard the USS Hera and wondered how the new doctor saw her without the trick she used the other night to make her visible. "It's not often someone like you wants to see me so far from your own death."

Tova looked upon Rei, her visage now reflecting a much different appearance than the night they met. Death was no longer the lovely Asian woman, human and relatable. She now wore the face of indifference, her upper face a mere crowning cracked bone plate lacking eyes to see or express feeling. Her lower face at least kept some level of anatomical similarity to a humanoid skeleton which allowed relatable speech. Her bare arms ended in beautiful hands long black nails looking somehow inviting yet deadly, her chest, however, showed she was truly Death as her bones were sculpted similar to an ivory chest plate of skin and osseous adornment. The rest of her features were covered under her dark, draping cowl and the long skirting that emerged from her rib-like ornamentation. She had a dark beauty that was wholly foreign yet just familiar.

Tova looked upon Death, tamping down her anger, "You have haunted me all of my life. That is not why I'm here, however. I owe you an apology for behavior the other night."

Rei stared for a moment, assessing the situation. Tova was far from her own expiration so she had no idea how she saw her, but judging by her reaction, it wasn't pleasant. Patting Taxes on the side gently, she silently bid her ghostly companion to leave them be for now. "Emotions were heated that night and tempers easily flared. I forgive you and also apologize. I hope that you too can come to forgive me in time. My work is not easy and there are some things that are not within my power."

Tova nodded keeping a professional approach, "They were indeed heated and that rests upon my shoulders. I can only speculate that your duties are difficult and honestly are beyond my understanding. As a healer, you are frequently a source of challenge and mercy, someone to be denied and welcomed at times all within the same day. In that capacity, I actually have a greater appreciation for what you do." Tova steeled herself to say what needed to be laid out so there would be no further misunderstandings between them.

"My outburst was caused by my personal history which makes it all the more unacceptable. You are a guest of this crew and though you may never have need of my services, it is unacceptable of me to make anyone feel unwelcome as Chief Medical Officer. I hope you can overlook my outburst and be assured I will not let such a thing occur again." Tova pulled a small package from her pocket and offered it to Rei. "Please consider this an olive branch." It was obvious she had conflicting feelings toward Rei however there also seemed to be an almost professional respect towards her.

Rei reached out and gingerly plucked the small package from Tova's hands, holding it in hers for a long moment before even considering opening it. "You mean your history with the undead you call the Borg. I've done all that I can during my tenure as Death to find loopholes, even going so far as to aid your predecessor in staving me off and helping people find peace before they've passed on. Unfortunately, the undead pass beyond my power."

"As for your services, I may not need yours, but I hope that you will avail yourself of mine in the hopes that we can keep your people on this side of the veil longer." With a slight nod, the pale woman finally looked down at the small package in her hands and began to open it to see what was inside.

Rei could see Tova stiffen at the mention of the Borg, "The parasites known as the Borg are who I have the deepest disdain for. Their attack on my people has been....most influential. Until our meeting, you were a concept to me, a personification of what was merely a force of nature. Imagine my surprise to find you indeed had an identity." Tova cleared her throat and looked upon Rei with a deep level of understanding, "I've no wish to interrupt you in what you must do. In many situations, you are a minion of mercy, a herald of the end of suffering. To prolong such agonies for those you seek to collect for a mortal concept of extended moments for the survivor is greed. It is a way for those left behind to alleviate guilt and I want no part in that. I would encourage others to live each moment remembering your touch could come at any time thus we should embrace this life before moving on towards our next." Tova shook her head, "My anger it's not with you."

She looked as though she has so much more to say but held her tongue. "Please, enjoy your gift. It is from my personal collection, a treasured piece." She nodded to Rei and turned to make her way from her quarters.

"Then please know that every day I pray that the Federation and others find a way to release those in the grip of undeath from their curse so that I may claim them and relieve them of their suffering," Rei replied as she held up the gift to inspect it - a signed first edition 1982 printing of the poem 'When Death Comes' by Pulitzer Prize winner Mary Oliver. It had obviously been treasured and adored as the emotions that lingered on the book were quite palpable to the pale woman. "Thank you for the present. I will enjoy it until my own sweet release into the afterlife. Would you be willing to accept a gift from me as well before you leave?"

Tova turned back around somewhat stunned at the revelation that Death itself could die.

Turning back to Taxes, Rei tucked the well-worn book tenderly into her saddlebags before rummaging around deeply in one of the larger pockets for something. Eventually, she pulled out a bound stack of almost a dozen large El-Aurian books that looked to be older than the human race itself. "I rescued these from your homeworld right after it was taken. It's a collection of written works of some of the greatest minds of your people. I had hoped that one day I would be able to return them. I feel that you are the person they have been waiting for."

Tovanna stepped forward, looking at the books, knowing how much had been lost when the ship had been taken by the Borg. All her life she had been told of the rich history that was lost, the civilization and culture that were now nothing more than oral history. She stepped forward again more tentatively and took the stack in her arms, tears glittering in her eyes, "Thank you." Her professionalism shattered as she embraced the books, her tears spilling over while part of her broke. Tovanna shook with years of built-up emotions, years of obligation finally being lifted from her shoulders, years of unknown burden tied to the extinction of her people as her cheeks were made wet. She looked as if she might crumple to the floor under the weight of all she had been secretly been carrying within not caring that Death saw. "Thank you, more than you know."

"You gave me a valuable present, and in the culture I came from, one must give a present of equal or greater value in return," replied the pale woman. "Though I do have to wonder how much of your life you will spend deciphering their handwriting from your old tongues."

Tova shrugged looking up at Rei who again looked like the small woman she met the first time, "Umm... well that would depend on the handwriting. Some of the old language I already know, my father is a historian and burdened me with the responsibility of carrying on the 'legacy' of our people lest we not be forgotten in future generations. My parents hoped I would marry one of my race, grooming me as ideal wife, sadly most are much older than me. As for the book, the rest I will try to piece together from what I know. I like to read and keep to myself."

The pale woman smiled inwardly, knowing that even if the Fates were here, they too would approve of her choice of recipient for those particular books.

She looked up at Rei "One other thing, you mentioned looking for loopholes with the Borg? They are truly undead and lack the ability to procreate, but as we have observed their neonatal maturation chambers accelerate the maturation of a living being up to 25x that of their normal growth rate. What would happen if you merely sped that up to the point of expiration or ceased the ability to mature at all? You would bypass their ability to assimilate all children. It may not stop them totally but could at least stop their assimilation of all non-mature life forms forcing them to return for assimilation losing valuable time. There is also the question of cellular aging and if you can outrun the time of nanite assimilation. If you can extinguish all mitochondria within a human then life will naturally end. Humans cannot live without our power systems, the key will be keeping them off until life ceases. Does any of this help?" Tova looked hopeful.

"I was born on Earth well before many of those terms became part of my knowledge," Rei began, shaking her head sadly. "And I've learned far more from my seven counterparts... But there is little that we're able to do as they've staved off even us with their undeath. We have written the tools of their defeat into several races, but even that will take lifetimes to remove their curse upon this universe."

Tovanna nodded in understanding, "It was worth a try, I am merely a doctor, you are Death. It would figure you have me outsmarted on the whole dying thing," she smiled humbly at her joke. "Thank you Rei. Please take comfort in my understanding that you merely have a role to play and in the end, I hope it is you I see, this face I see when Death comes. It is quite lovely and holds mercy as death always does. You saved many of my people a fate far worse than your touch the day you came for them, you saved them from the Borg." Tova started to reach out to her but wasn't sure if it was safe and looked at her curiously. "Is it safe to touch you?"

"The clothed parts, yes. The touch of my skin and my breath is instant death." Rei reached back, a soft smile finally on her face and if there were still tears in her, they would be in her eyes. "I have held this position for hundreds of years and guided innumerable lives to their chosen afterlife but always I have looked forward to reclaiming undead souls. Especially that of one of your kind. Unfortunately, I was able to spare many the touch of undeath while they ransacked your world."

"Still, it could have been billions, rather than hundreds of millions," Rei admitted, bowing her head in regret that they claimed even one. "That I allowed even one, I must apologize. They... Adapted..."

Tovanna put her books down, grabbed a throw blanket wrapping it over Rei like a cowl, around her and hugged her fiercely, "You are mercy Rei, you are relief to the suffering. As a doctor, I have held the hand of those who were passing, who had no one at the moment you came for them. You were the one to provide relief while I witnessed the last moments of their life. Don't punish yourself Rei." She kissed her cheek through the blanket as she held her. "Thank you for all you have done sweet angel." Tova pulled away looking her with gentleness reaching up to caress her cheek like she'd done for so many patients before pulling her hand back with a flash of sadness. "You may be Death but I am a healer. While I am on this ship I will see to it you receive the healing you need, that of the heart. I see the wound." She looked at Rei who seemed to be just a simple woman.

"Mmph!" Rei struggled for a moment before giving in. It wasn't often she got hugs and even then, most people were dead. Still, even in a blanket, it was nice. "Thank you. Perhaps... If you don't mind... We could have dinner now and then? The ship's chef is very skilled and Dox doesn't come by as much as she used too since Asa left."

Tova blushed after ambushing Rei, "Dinner would be great. I'm guessing salads would be a drag though." She smiled with a little twinkle in her eye, "Let's stick to cooked dishes and maybe a lollipop during discussions?" Her forehead crinkled in bewilderment, "Ummm...what kind of lollipop does Death eat anyway? I may have to design a new one for you."

If she could blush, Rei would be doing so right now as she thought back to her time alive all those many lifetimes ago. "Well... When I was a little girl... I would occasionally have this ginger and matcha candy... Do you have anything like that? As for dinner, I'm fond of sushi, pizza, tacos... really anything that can be eaten with your fingers or chopsticks. Drinks from the replicator are fine though. I'm not as picky about them as Hera is since hydration never actually sticks. Oh, and Taxes loves fruit of all sorts - especially apples." The shorter woman was starting to open up and her sunken-eyed face was grinning happily, though still somewhat creepily.

"Ginger and matcha are no problem I have each individually but I can get them mixed for you just the way you like. I have straight ginger one here actually I also have one that tastes of rice candy as well," she beamed with a smile as she pulled out a couple of her infamous treats. "Great thing with me is I love to try all sorts of things for food which is why I was good friends with the culinary student who helped make my collection of pops and pizza is the food of gods, if you haven't had sushi pizza we must get you some but ummm.... who is Taxes? I have plenty of apple lollipops for them here is you like, they're quite popular with the kids." Tova looked quite hopeful as she reached in her pocket and held out three for Rei in addition to the plain ginger and a rice candy. It was obvious that Tova just saw her as a crewmate she now connected with who just happened to work as Death.

"Taxes is my horse," replied the pale woman, motioning towards the ghostly equine whose legs didn't quite reach the deck and whose eyes were like looking into black holes. "You've heard the tales of Death riding on a pale mount, right? And that the two things you can't escape from are Death and Taxes?"

Tova looked over finally noticing the steed, "Well hello there big guy how did I miss you? Apples huh? Well since you obviously can't die, let's try this." She took an apple lollipop and unwrapped it, then with her laser scalpel gently removed the stick so now it was a basic hard candy. She handed it to Rei. "Crush it and let him have it like sugar. I remember giving maple sugar cubes to a horse when I was young on Earth only this will be apple flavored." She looked at Taxes, "And how about I bring some apples and possibly a few pears as well for you next time okay?" She looked at them with hope for her lollipop solution for Taxes, the worst he could do was snub his nose at it but Tova had never met a horse who hated sugar cubes. Then again, she never met the Steed of Death so there was a possibility.

Taking the candy, the pale woman easily crushed it in one hand before holding it out to her grim steed to snuffle at for a few seconds and lick up happily. Rei giggled happily and pet the muzzle of the now happy horse as he snuffled around looking for more. "Thank you. I think he really likes it."

Tova walked over to the replicator and ordered up a bowl of the candies, just wrapped, no stick as well as some grapples. She returned to Rei with the bowl, "For Taxes, he deserves a treat now and then," she looked at the horse, "No overdoing it mister, so here is another treat for you....a grapple." She grinned at Rei and handed it to her with mischief. "He should have a fun time with these," she set the grapples and candy bowl on a table for Rei. "Is he safe to pet?" She looked up at her curious.

"If he'll let you then yes. Otherwise, he's like trying to pet fog." Taking the grapples, Rei held them out for Taxes and giggled as he tried eating them and made faces after the first bite and shook his head, but then continued eating.

"They are weird I know, grapes and apples, I thought he might like them. There are always the pears and apples as well." She looked at Taxes, "So big guy, may I?" she reached tentatively towards him and his nose. She knew he looked a little different than most horses but he was still a horse who loved apples for her at that moment. The one attribute that Tova possessed after a human lifetime of medical service was the ability to stop seeing the physical aspect of another and just see the person they were or in this case the animal. It was something that had been commented on often during her service. She didn't care about differences, she focused on what made others the same and forgave easily. She was completely lost to the fact she was in Death's domain, attempting to pet her steed after feeding him fruit.

Taxes sniffed her hand a moment and looked between them a few times before bumping his muzzle against her hand and going back to eating his fruit.

Tova smiled with a childlike delight at Rei. "I will bring more by for him and some lollipops for you. I really must get your gift secured before my shift begins. I can't thank you enough." She went and picked up her books with a happy look on her face and looked back to Rei, "I look forward to our next meeting" Tova headed to Rei's door as if a heavy weight had been lifted from her shoulders.

Rei held one hand up and smiled. "See you next time." As Tova left and she turned back to her spectral steed, there was a warmth in her that the cold woman rarely felt other than a few visits with Dox and Asa she'd had.

"These are the moments I enjoy, Taxes. They remind me of when I was alive."

Walking out of her office in the Flight Control Office on Deck 4, Lieutenant Commander Mnhei’sahe Dox adjusted her crimson tunic and ran her slightly over-long auburn curls over her very Romulan ears as she walked down the corridor towards the turbolift. I really need to make time for a haircut, she thought to herself as she walked.

She had been recently visited by her most unique friend, who is also known as the embodiment of Death. Usually, their visits happened in Rei’s VIP quarters on Deck 8, but in this case, the spectral woman in black came to Mnhei’sahe with a different concern. After a brief visit with Masato Rei, the Romulan flight chief understood what was going on.

Earlier, Rei had an unexpected visit from the Hera’s new Chief Medical Officer Tovanna Mah. Doctor Mah had met Rei during Baroness Von Alcott’s Bachelorette party on Risa and the two did NOT hit it off. So, according to Rei, Tova wanted to clear the air between the two and all seemed well as the ship’s physician headed off with a set of ancient books that held the lost history of her fellow El-Aurian people. But afterward, Rei was worried that she might have revealed too much too soon and thought it might be best to ask Dox to see if she could check on the Doctor and see if she was okay.

It was a responsibility she had taken upon herself, as one of the few that could actually percieve Masato Rei. And as the enigmatic woma's friend, it was a task she truly didn't mind in spite of all that was on her head with the impending birth of her children that she was also busy preparing for.

In the turbolift, Dox pulled out the PaDD she kept in her back pocket and spoke to the computer. “Deck Eight, please.”

As the doors closed and the lift began to descend, the young officer was checking out the flight crew rotation and making a few adjustments during the short trip, so the department would not be understaffed during her upcoming leave to the planet Miradon where she and her wife Mona would be going to have the children. After a few seconds, the lift doors opened and Dox made her way to her destination, doing her best to stall as much as possible as she was nervous about the scenario and wasn’t the best when it came to dealing with other people. But she also knew better than anyone else alive the weight of responsibility that came with being friends with a cosmic force of the universe. It wasn’t something that many could deal with well and so she felt it was smart of Rei to ask her to help.

At the door to Dr. Mah’s quarters, which the computer confirmed was where she was, Dox pressed the chime on the control pad outside. “Doctor Mah, it’s Lieutenant Commander Dox. Are you available?”

The door slid open to the reveal the doctor barefoot and in a long dress, obviously off duty. "Please come in, how can I help you?" She looked as if a cloud was heavily hanging over her, but was keeping her composure. Her room was still plain looking with little to show much about her personal life other than a sculpture of a lollipop and a few pictures that included Tova and one of a small infant.

As the red-headed Romulan stepped in to the sparsely decorated quarters, she couldn't help but feel a twinge of what humans called deja vu. The lask of any significant personal touches save the few things on display, which included a picture, was almost exactly what her own quarters had looked like during her first few months on the Hera. Back before she had even tried to feel at home on the massive starship. But it was when she had looked at Tovanna Mah that she had truly seen something even more familiar.

That look of mingled confusion and anxiety that she had after her first meeting with Masato Rei, before she had even learned that name. That face of a woman who had just had her view of reality turned upside down and was struggling to process it. And since Mnhei'sahe herself had been a part of the command decision to forgo having counselors on board the Hera, which had become a recurring problem on the ship, it was her duty to help, if she could. 

"Well, Doctor. I'm more concerned with what I can do to help you. Rei asked me to look in on you."

The Romulan flight chief walked a bit around where Tova stood, relaxing her professional posture just a little. "Considering that I've been almost exactly where you are right now, I figured you might need someone to talk to that understands at least a little of what's going on in your head."

Tova smiled softly, "She is sweet like that. Please have a seat is there anything I can get you? Tea? Water?" She looked at Dox, "You are both correct, the ramifications of Rei's revelations have given me a great deal to face...." she sat down and picked up a cup of tea she was working on, "ethically, morally, esoterically, thanotologically...from various levels as a doctor, a person, it's a great deal to process." She laced her fingers together looking like she was trying hold herself together.

It was clear to Mnhei'sahe that the Doctor was troubled. Even though Rei said Tova looked in good spirits when she left Rei's quarters, the dark woman sensed that something was slightly off. Everything about her body language and the tremble in her voice confirmed that and spoke volumes, so the far younger Romulan woman sat down next to the far older El-Aurian woman and spoke as softly as her naturally raspy voice allowed. "No thank you, Doctor. I'm fine. But you're not."

"You seem to at least be better with her as an individual. She didn't share any specifics about your conversation, of course, but she did say that you and she resolved some of the issues you had with her back on Risa." Mnhei'sahe said, leaning in slightly so that she could clearly see Tova's face. Trying to be comforting wasn't exactly a standard Romulan trait, but she was doing her best. "So... can you tell me what's going on in your head? It... looks like a lot. We can start with 'ethically' and work our way through the rest at your pace. However you need to, I'll listen."

Tova looked at Dox not sure how to begin or where to end when she did so she laughed nervously instead. "I'm a doctor, I'm now aware of the actual presence of Death herself. What do I say when I am asked what does Death look like? How do I even approach the issue of those I know it would be a mercy to just let die?" She shook her head and started pacing, "It's different for an officer in the field who sees someone in their line of command fall but has no capacity to save them, I am the person they come to save others. I can now sense Rei, that's part of the issue with being El-Aurian and a sensitive one at that, I will know if she is near and that no matter what I do it is fruitless. I always felt it was time when a patient was going to pass but now I understand why or who. How can I look a patient in the eye and tell them it will be okay? Before it was a guess, now however...what do I do hand them a lollipop and tell them hold on there is a really nice lady coming for them? Is it ethically sound to know when someone is dying? What does this mean for the thanatological implications of one's greater understanding of death? It's not like I can speak to anyone about it not even the most esoterically inclined save yourself and a few others. It's not as if I would stand in her way but it could make our conversations a bit awkward. I mean really, what do I we talk about if we have a day when I lose a patient, 'yeah I lost Joe Blow but I'm glad you could pick him up quickly here, have an apple for Taxes'? What if it was a child or an infant? Will I resent her doing her job? I don't know... I would never want to... could we go to dinner after?" She looked at Dox coming unraveled a bit with her flurry of conflicting emotions, "And how the hell did she get a horse on a starship?!" It was obvious the doctor's mind was going in circles with all the implications of her her new knowledge, how it would impact her job and possibly her patients. She went to the replicator, "Vanilla vodka on the rocks," she downed it and kept pacing, looking like her mind was going warp speed.

There was a light, knowing smile on Mnhei'sahe's face. "Nothing about this is easy, Tova. It isn't, and I know far more than most."

Scooching a little closer, the young Romulan put her hand on the doctors and took a breath. "I first met her after one of my first missions on the ship. The Baroness... who we had the Bachelorette part for... she threw herself on a sword to save us all from a cosmic threat. And she was supposed to die. She didn't, because Rei wouldn't take her. On another mission, we had a cosmic entity... the shard of the titan Gaia trapped in the ship's computer. The only way to free her was to allow her to bond with a living being and then go for a spacewalk without a suit. And for some very complicated reasons, Gaia was only talking to me directly. So I did what I had to do. And out there, as the shard of a goddess left me and I was dying, I saw her. She stood by and waited as I was beamed back in. And she stood over me while Doctor Dael kept me alive... refusing to do her job. So, on the one hand, she has helped us. More than those times, she has done whatever she could to not take people."

Looking back into the doctor's eyes, Mnhei'sahe's got more serious, as she spoke with a sense of certainty that had more weight than her thirty-two years should carry. "And on the other hand, when my father was taken from me, she let me see as she took his spirit to Vorta Vor. In that moment, he was a whole and young man again, as I had never gotten to see him in life. As was the godmother, who I sat with on her deathbed. Who I comforted and told to have no fear. Because as insane as it sounds, I have seen the other side now, and I know that the woman that will come to take them will do so with boundless compassion and comfort."

"There are days that I wish I never asked to know her. Days I wish that I didn't know what I do. And there are other days where I understand that even Death herself values life and fights for it. So, how can I do any less?" Letting go of Tova's hand, Dox got up and got herself a coffee from the replicator and a cup of the same for Tova and set it down in front of her. "As for how you go and talk to her afterwards, just remember that once upon a time, she was a mortal woman and she still has all of those feelings in her, and sometimes she despairs too. She needs those dinners where we just talk about my day and ship's gossip and random nonsense as much as I often do. And I bet she appreciates the lollipops. Knowing her, I'd guess ginger flavored."

Then, Dox let out a chuckle and shook her head, "As for Taxes, he goes wherever he wants. I've woken up to him breathing on me while I was in bed a FEW times now when he needed me for something. Starship bulkheads... don't really exist for him. He's not a boundries horse. heh."

"Seriously?! I find an equine visitor above my bed late at night I am cutting off his lollipop and fruit supply. As for Rei, it's ginger wasabi lollipops if I remember correctly," Tova said offhandedly. "So how did you do it? Come to terms with all of this? Part of me thought I would be furious with her after the assimilation of my forefathers and maybe I was, I was taught to be, I'm not though. Confused, completely overwhelmed, shaken and wary of the ramifications to those I help. I mean when I came on who knew I would be feeding a dead horse a grapple, petting it or hugging Death herself while wondering if she could eat a salad before it fell into a cycle decomposition." Tova shook her head, "It seems I need to not only be prepared for anything we may run into, but I need to be more familiar with anything I may run into onboard as well. I feel like there should have a big warning sign as I came aboard with mentions of pirates, a knocked up crew, the personification of Death, and a disappearing baby minotaur on top like a fuzzy little cherry." She sat running her hands over her face. "At least I have some sort of training to handle abnormal situations, I just never thought they would be this extenuating or existential."

She looked at Dox, "How did you adjust? What did you do to become familiar with how things work?" She looked down a bit ashamed, "I was at the Academy for so long things were familiar, easy, simple. This is all new for me, my first long term assignment." Her hands were spread in front of her in askance.

"Well, one thing I can say is that the Vodka doesn't really help. I tried drowning my confusion as well, and it... didn't make anything any better." Mnhei'sahe said as she looked across at the woman who was older even than her own mother by two decades, but somehow felt significantly younger. It was an unusual observation, but in some ways her life experiences put her past the over 90-year-old El-Aurian, and this certainly was one.

Taking a breath, the anxious Romulan woman ran a finger over her ear nervously and got up. Pacing generally helped her think, "But, that aside, I had some degree of experience with... chaos. I grew up on a smuggling ship. I was flying it by ten. Those old, healed fractures and breaks you found in my medical scans stated in my combat training earlier than that. When other children were playing with friends, I was learning how to use the gasses of a nebula to hide from Klingon security sweeps. I was, for a very long time, a very miserable person."

"My experiences in Starfleet before coming here were less than impressive. Cargo shuttle pilot work on very quiet starbases and the like. But when I came here, I found a lot. For every... eldritch god that tried invading my mind, there were true friends to help pull me back. Yes, I've encountered things that the academy could only hint at, but I also found friends and a family that I learned would never let me face it all alone. In truth, some days I don't cope. Some days I unadjust right back to feeling like I'm going to shatter under the weight of it all."

"Those days, I have my wife. I have the officers on the Flight Deck. I have those two in R&D to relax in Ten-Forward with. I have Commander Paris and Captain Telvan and Chief Clemens to keep my feet here on the deck." Mhnei'sahe said, no longer pacing as she looked down as Tova sat there listening. "Even if Taxes wants to take me for a ride out of the ship without a suit to another galaxy. I always come back here where I'm never alone. That's how I handle it, Tova."

"There's an old speech they like to give at the academy, that says that Starfleet is a promise. I give my life for you and you give your life for mine." Mnhei'sahe said as she flicked her red bangs out of her hair. "Or... something like that. Commander Paris says, Stronger together. It's easier to remember, but just as true. You handle it because you're stronger than just you will ever be now. Because you're a part of the Hera. That means you aren't just an El-Aurian doctor anymore. You're all of us because we're always behind you. You're a Trill pirate and a human explorer. You're a Vulcan Kolinahr master and a Romulan smuggler. You're an Andorian engineer and Mariposian test pilot. And now, a young Japanese human who found themselves in one of the most tremendous jobs in all creation, who needs friends."

 "Also, yes she can eat a salad. Sushi is her favorite, though." Dox ended with a light smirk.

Tova looked down, "I guess that is where the Academy and Starfleet taught me a different lesson. There is a level of politics there determined by those higher and more entrenched in the system. I learned the hard way that there are those who would seek to use others for their own purposes if possible, when possible. It makes it trust past a certain point difficult. I can't imagine how you overcame such difficulties. My own seem so trivial in comparison." She stood up and walked over to Dox, "Since this is a new place, a new beginning and chapter in my life then it seems I need to adjust my thinking on the matter of how I approach those around me. I've never been part a crew but it seems I am now. I think I will like being a Romulan smuggler," Her face broke out into a lovely smile, "and a Japanese human, though between you and me I am intimidated by the human explorer aspect of myself." She crinkled her nose with a playful smile, finally looking more relaxed and open than she ever had since coming on board. "Thank you Mnhei’sahe Dox, your wisdom and kindness is more appreciated than you know." She went over to the books gifted to her by Rei, "It seems I only have one last thing to do, secure these books and check on my sickbay. I've spent enough time fretting about myself, my calling is to serve others."

She turned to look at Dox, "At some point though I would ask to sit down with you and find out more about this mysterious ship and its inhabitants. Perhaps over sushi with Rei and your lovely wife?"

"Mona can't see Rei, but otherwise, that sounds like a plan to me, Tova. As for this ship, we are sometimes less a crew and more a family. And we look out for each other " Mnhei'sahe said with a smile as she looked over at the books. "Those books? Rei gave them to you?"

The doctor's face fell into what could be seen as a practiced neutrality, "Hopefully this family will be," she hesitated searching for a polite way to word what she wanted to say, "more conscionable in its dealing with each other than my own." There was obviously more to the story of the supposedly idyllic background of the doctor that she was not speaking about, but it could wait. Tova was already walking over to the unusual tomes on her desk. They looked different from most, the glyphs and markings unknown and obvioulsy placed upon the spines with care. Tova picked one up showing it to Dox, "These were a gift from Rei," when she looked at the kind Romulan her eyes glittered with tears, "they were one of the few things she managed to save from my planet before its destruction by the Borg. She entrusted them to me for safekeeping." Tova hugged the book to her, closing her eyes to regain control over her emotions. "I can never repay her for such a kindness. My father is a historian, Dr. Amiasos Mah, the foremost expert on El-Aurian history, my mother is the art expert. They would sell our entire house or more for these books, I understand their value more than most. I grew up innudated with lessons, tales and examples of books similar to these though few if any so ancient. People fought to have an audience with my parents," she sighed as the sentimentality drained away from her, "and they are well connected at Starfleet."

She shook her head, "We were speaking of dinners and Rei though. I gave her a gift as well, one I thought she would like. It was my personal copy of 'When Death Comes' by Pulitzer Prize winner Mary Oliver." Tova smirked, "she liked it as well the lollipop."

With a warm little smirk curling the corner of the chubby cheeks, the Romulan Flight Cheif tilted an eyebrow as she brought her attention back up from the books to their owner. "She had the book in her hands when she came and asked me to come talk to you, and she was holding it like the prized possession it no doubt is, Tova. As these are to you."

"If you don't mind me playing... what's the human term... armchair councilor," Mnhei'sahe said with a light shrug. "We get along now, but my relationship with my own mother has been... extremely turbulent... for the majority of my life. There were massive, massive hurdles to overcome to get to the admittedly still fragile place we are now, so believe me when I say that I understand having issues with a parent. But these books are yours. Maybe when you're done reading them, done learning all you can from them, then you'll know what's best for them. I'm betting your answer is in there, somewhere."

"This ship's pretty safe, when it comes to storing secrets. She will keep yours as well as she has kept mine. And, as an El-Aurian, you're functionally immortal, so... you've got time to figure out what you want to do with these." Mnhei'sahe concluded with a light chuckle. "So take that time. You're thoughtful. You're smart. AND you care... you'll figure out what's the right thing to do with them when you're ready."

Tova looked thoughtful for a moment, "I forget my aging process at times. I was raised on Earth surrounded by humans despite my parent's best efforts to instill an El-Aurian heritage. My parents attempts to isolate me only worked just so well, but life has a way of ruining plans. I got to know people and bonded with others. It was not to the degree some might because I was always the dutiful daughter but friendships formed nonetheless. It's been difficult to see my peers grow old and wither. I joke with others but it breaks my heart that I will have to come to terms with loosing those I care for to age," she looked down" I will loose my Romulan smuggler aspect, even my intimidating human explorer aspect. I'm still getting used to that part of myself. I am beginning to find comfort here though, among the stars and on the Hera. As for the books, I consider them mine. If Rei wanted them in my father's care should could have gifted them to him no doubt, but she didn't, she gave them to me." There was a certain pride in Tova's voice when she claimed the books, "In time I will decide what to do with them, for now however they are my legacy." She walked to the books and placed her hand on them in a protective fashion, "I will keep them safe until the time comes for me to choose the next keeper of these tomes, these gifts."

She smiled at Dox, "Until then it seems the Hera has the keeper of the lollipops, healer of the sick, wielder of hypos and semi-immortal smart-aleck at their service." She curtsied ever so cutely and laughed brightly.

With a light, but slightly anxious smile, Dox nodded back. "Indeed. We all have our duties to attend to. Some better than others. I have a very pregnant wife to get back to and it's my night to make dinner."

In truth, the young Romulan had an idea of what Tova was talking about. After all, Her own lifespan was almost three times that of her Miradonian wife, which was a thought that often kept her up at night. But for now, she was here to do what she could for her new friend. "So, I know it's still a lot to think about. But remember, this is the Hera. We look out for each other and when one of us needs an ear to listen, there's always someone near. So, if you're ever feeling like all of this is overwhelming, you know where my office is."

"Always, and I look forward to meeting the tiniest little passengers yet to come. You are going to be a wonderful mother. Between you and me I have such a sweet spot for children. Now get to your beautiful wife Mona and make sure she eats and keeps up her strength, Doctor's orders." Tova beamed at Dox obviously feeling much better after their talk.

Nodding, Dox took her cup back to the replicator for reclamation, adjusted her uniform and nodded to the ship's new doctor. "I... can't wait to meet them either." There was a warm smile on her face as she headed to the door of Tova's quarters. "Good evening, Doctor."

"Good evening Dox," said Tova as she left. "Now to get dressed and go fully set up my office in sickbay, its time to settle in." Tova finally felt like she was worthy to be the CMO of the Hera, Keeper of the El-Aurian Legacy and Distributor of the Lollipops...all worthy titles in her opinion.

The Case Against Lady Kathryn O'Dell:

A social climber who wanted both the status of being the LADY of a finer house than she came from and access to Angus O'Dell's property, holdings and resources. She manipulated her husband into alienating his family members and convinced him to lay claim to the home, which gave her control of the finances as Duncan isn't that book smart. 

Duncan is an ASS, but didn't know his wife killed his parents.

The clues:

• Trace amounts of the Klingon poison, Veridium Six (which Duras used to kill K'mpek slowly over time in Next Gen.) is found in the property lake where Duncan spread Angus' ashes, which one of the Wil'I'Ams sisters discovers and recognizes. The other sister scans the grave of Margret O'Dell, Angus' wife who died a month plus prior, and she too has trace amounts of Veridium Six in her body.

• Kathryn and Duncan's prior home and estate are in financial peril, with tax liens against them and HEAVY debt against Kathryn due to her lavish spending habits. She has decimated her own finances and wants the stability of the O'Dell resources to continue to live beyond her means as a faux-woman of status. Jaeih discovered this in disguise as the Tax Adjudicator, Miss McGovern.

• Enalia used her Artan connections to confirm that a smuggler of ill repute, known for trading in Veridium Six, had been in Orbit several months ago, just prior to Margret O'Dell's symptoms. One of the other family members will confirm that they saw Kathryn meet with the smuggler in a tavern at that time. 

• Because Angus suspected the poison, he had his will recorded in secret prior to the date it WAS to be recorded.

• When Angus declared Minerva an O'Dell, and mentioned his intention to put her in his will, Kathryn panicked and upped the doses of Veridium Six in Angus' food, which caused her to handle the poison more sloppily, leaving trace residue in her nail beds. Not enough to be sick or show up in a med scan from a Marposian Doctor, but enough to be picked up by a level one Starfleet Medical Scan when they know to be looking for that exact poison.

• During the big reveal of all this, Jaeih will be there in her disguise at first searching the house for more evidence while Enalia and Rita make their case against Kathryn and Duncan, which Minnie will see right through and pull her aside to lead her to one of the secret passages that Angus had in the house where he hid the hologram of him recording his will, which names Minerva as an heir AND cuts Kathryn and Duncan from the will, perhaps. Minnie, being a Minotaur, can find her ay through ANY maze or labyrinth and see through things like secret tunnels naturally and leads her "Gammy" to what she's looking for.

It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, and as always when it came to life on the USS Hera, it was never dull.

The very pregnant Lieutenant Mona Gonadie, who had been making the best of her overstuffed and waddling increased girth these past few months was now ready to give birth. Or at least close enough that she had been cleared by Sickbay to travel, because it was her wish that her children be born on her home planet of Miradon. As a native of planet Earth, Rita also had plans to continue her spacefaring career until it was time for her to give birth, in which case she too planned to travel to her homeworld to ensure her children would be Earthborn, if not human.

After all, Vulcanoid genealogy tended to be remarkably strong.

Which led her to the other parent of the pair, Mnhei'sahe Dox. While Mona had come from a tragic upbringing, as the Gorn captured and ate her family while she watched, Dox was a Romulan, related to a Senator of a high social caste. With enemies she had made through her association with the Hera which had led to kidnapping, brainwashing, and a sworn blood oath of vengeance with a Zhat Vash named Rendal. Which was, in truth, more than a little bit the fault of Rita Paris, as she had bested and humiliated the proud and haughty Romulan Tal'Shiar operative. Thus she felt obligated to protect the officers under her from what revenge may come.

However, the USS Hera was on assignment, and Mona's timing had turned out to be less than optimal. The chicks had dropped, in position, low in her belly, and any day now they were coming. But Rita was needed here, beside her Captain, supporting the 748 other souls on board. Thus, she needed a plan. Because in her heart of hearts, Rita knew that if the GoDox family left the Hera and any harm befell them, Rita would blame herself for the rest of her life.

Besides, Mona was an endangered species, and while the triplets that were coming may have those aggressive Vulcanoid genes involved, they would still be at least partially Miradonian. Thus preserving an endangered species of the galaxy was also forefront in her mind. Her own husband had once been a member of a species with no more homeworld, limited to the 10,231 souls who were off-world when Nero struck.

That was then, in another life, in another galaxy. But she had known the sorrow of a lost culture, of a people who had to learn to live amongst others because their own world had been destroyed, their own bloodline almost extinguished. She would be damned if she would allow such a fate to befall Mona Gonadie.

Plus, Dox was like a sister to her, and if anything happened to Mona or the children, it would break her. So much of the progress Dox had made in her time on the Hera, learning command, learning confidence, healing the scars of her past to build a promising future for herself, was due in no small part to her loving and supportive relationship with the kind and patient avian officer. Who had seen those scars and embraced them, teaching Dox that love was not a weakness as she had been raised to believe, but a wellspring of hope, strength, and endurance greater than the Romulan pilot had ever known.

As with so many things in the universe, this was beyond Rita Paris's control. Just as she could not be there personally to ensure their safety in what might just prove to be a challenging cross-species birthing was beyond her control. But that didn't mean that Rita didn't have a plan, and that she wasn't going to stack the odds in the favor of those she would protect.

Which brought her to the door of the VIP quarters where an honor guard of gold-clad Security officers stood, coming to attention as she approached.

"At ease, petty officers. Anything to report?" the mod minidress-clad commander asked, hands folded behind her back and chin up. After all, she had to look up to make eye contact with one of the officers in question. Petty Officer 'Big Ethel' Jablonski was a large, wide farmgirl from Cestus IV, a high gravity planet in the Omicron system who had joined Starfleet to escape the doldrums of farm life. While she was an avid fan of diet and exercise, when Hera had come aboard and been placed under guard, Jablonski had found herself drawn to the goddess in the stateroom, and found herself volunteering for more and more guard duty shifts. When the Commander had explained that the Security forces were to consider themselves an honor guard, and not prisoner guards, Jablonski had felt a swell of pride... and that wasn't all.

The occupant of the quarters was none other than the goddess of old Greek Earth legend, Hera, mother of the gods. As a goddess, although her powers were greatly diminished with age and circumstance, her aspect still functioned, as a side effect of her existence. Amazons were attracted to serve her- thus 87% of the Hera's security force were female, despite Starfleet's assignment process. Said females had available to them greater strength, speed, and stamina if they so chose to accept it, even more if they chose to honor the goddess.

While Paris might be considered Hera's priestess in the modern-day, Jablonski was clearly her general. The good-natured giantess believed in Hera- she had witnessed miracles, and she genuinely loved the kind, maternal figure who appreciated her guardians as much as they appreciated her. Simple acts like giving them cookies, listening to their troubles, offering advice and sometimes just being there to comfort them when they needed her were all the responsibilities of motherhood, and Hera treated all of her honor guard as her daughters in spirit, and many responded. None so much as Big Ethel, though, as she had grown a half a meter in height and put on 90 kilos of solid muscle over the course of the past year.

The gifts of Hera were there for the faithful, and Jablonski was easily Hera's most fervently devoted defender. And it showed. Mighty, massive and muscular while still feminine and easygoing, Jablonski understood her relationship with the goddess perhaps better than anyone, and there was no question that were Hera in danger, the mighty maiden would lay down her life for the goddess, just as she would for her duty to Starfleet.

Beside her on duty today was Petty Officer Akane Liu. The taciturn and inscrutable Li Liu seldom spoke- a fireplug of a woman, barely 164 cm tall and nearly as wide, she preferred working with Jablonski. As the big woman was loquacious, cheerful and friendly, it enabled the more introverted Liu to be observant, silent and unsociable. Nodding to the Commander, Liu's eyes watched the corridor, wary of trouble, and ever vigilant.

Both of the non-commissioned officers made Paris proud. When she had taken over the Security department from the previous officers, it had been a motley collection of toxic masculinity and MACO dropouts who were ill-disciplined, poorly motivated and rather frightening in their casual attitude toward crew deaths. Now, in these two officers, Paris had fine examples of efficient, dedicated protectors who stood in harm's way to protect others- the way Security forces should comport themselves, according to the thinking of the old-fashioned officer.

"Nothing out of the ordinary, Commander. I think Hera's experimenting with some sort of lemon cookie recipe this morning and it's frustrating her a bit. Otherwise, nothing to report, ma'am. We came on duty at 0:800, relieving Helenus and Davis, we're on duty until 16:00, when Ballak and Smithers will be relieving us. Is anything up, ma'am?" While Jablonski had spent plenty of time interacting with the curvaceous commander off duty, she still assumed no familiarity with her, as she was a dyed in the wool professional. Yet she was ever alert to the possibility of trouble.

"Not today, Miss Jablonski, but an away mission may be in order. I'll keep you posted," Paris replied with a smile, indicating that while there might be something afoot, it was far from negative. of course, before she could confirm that away mission, she needed to beg a favor of a goddess. Entering the quarters, Rita stood in the foyer they had constructed to give the goddess some privacy and a way to prepare herself for visitors who did not need permission to enter her doors.

"Hera? It's Rita... are you decent?"

"I am but these cookies are not," Hera replied, sliding an entire batch into a dust bin as she stepped out of her kitchen into the sitting room, setting aside both the tray and her apron with a bright smile. "Maybe it's the butter... Anyway, what may I help you with, my dear?"

"I have come to ask a boon of the Goddess, this time around," Rita admitted, stepping in to give Hera a hug. While their relationship was not one that Rita would have predicted in a million years, the matron goddess had filled a niche in Rita's life she had never even considered, yet clearly needed. That of a maternal figure, absent from her own life since the age of six.

While she was feminine and moved with a fluid grace both physically and socially, there was the touch of the tomboy in the last surviving member of her branch of the Paris family tree. Which came from having to live her formative years amongst men and boys- a far cry from the femme-centric starship upon which she served in the modern-day. So it was clear to any who understood such things that sometimes, perhaps because she had lived so much of her life without one, Rita still needed a mom.

Today, however, she needed something more.

"If it is within my power, then it is yours," Hera replied, motioning for Rita to sit with her.

Releasing the hug, Rita stepped into the living room and sat down, smoothing her skirt around her hips as she did so in a maneuver perfected through years of practice. "It's the GoDoxes... Mona and Mnhei'sahe. Their triplets are going to be born soon now, and they plan to travel back to Miradon so that the checks will be Miradonians, regardless of the infusion of Romulan heritage. Jaeih is coming with them, so they should be safe from the Romulans... hopefully. But this is an interspecies birth, and Mona's first. All nativities are important, but... this one. This one has a lot of lives tied up in it. If something were to go wrong..."

Leaving that statement hanging in the air for a moment, Rita drew herself erect, then let out a long sigh. "I can't be there, and frankly, even if I were, all I could do is cheerlead and keep an eye out around them, then share in their joy. But if something goes wrong with the birth..." A frown settled in then, with an expression of concern. "I'm probably being silly, but... please, Hera. Would you go with them to make sure everything goes alright? I'd ask you to midwife, but that's not my call. What I can do is ask you, as the most experienced mistress of maternity in the known galaxy, would you please travel with them to Miradon, to watch over their children's births, and make sure nothing happens to them?"

"I'm probably being silly, but..." Rita cut off any reply with a dismissal of her own concerns. "If anything happens to them, I'm afraid it would destroy them. All of them, in different ways. Jaeih would find herself cutting herself off emotionally again and growing distant. Mona would likely fall into a depression from which she might never recover. And I fear it would push poor Dox over the edge, and I think her rage would become her defining characteristic. I... I can't let that happen."

"So I am officially coming to you- offering of wine from actual grapes, and with an open hand and my honest promise. I will pay whatever price you ask, but please, Hera..." Those big blue eyes of the Earth girl started filling with tears as she moved to bended knee to take the hand of the ancient power of the galaxy. "Go with them to Miradon, and see their children safely into this world, I beg of you."

"My dear..." the matronly goddess began, lowering herself to her knees as well to take Rita's head in her hands and place a kiss on her forehead. "For all that you and everyone here has done for me, I would do this and more without hesitation. Just please promise me that you and your captain will be safe while that I will be away."

That brought about a smile of relief from Rita Paris, which quickly turned into a sarcastic grin. "Thank you, thank you, thank you! As for us... we'll be just fine, Hera, rest assured. While you may not be here, we've still got your namesake. She be mighty and quick, and we're ready for just about anything. What we're not ready for, we'll improvise! So, yes. I promise I will keep Enalia and myself safe. Or at least we'll still be fine when you return- that I can promise."

"Then I'll hold you to it," Hera replied standing back up and pulling Rita back to her feet as well. "Now... Tell me about this trip. I know Mnhei'sahe and I've met Mona but I know little about the Miradonian people other than that they have two goddesses that watch over them, they're very colorfully feathered, and that some races find them delicious."

"Then I think you know about as much as I do," Rita admitted, settling back into her seat. "I'm not certain of the travel arrangements, but I think they may be taking the Artan bird of prey, the Golden Ghost, to the planet. So they'll have orbital support, which is a huge plus if we aren't going to be there. beyond that, I'm sending Jablonski and Liu with you. They are two of your most dedicated defenders, and I know Ethel wouldn't let a single hair on your head to be harmed, nor anyone else that's going along. So this way while you are there doing what you do best, I can rest easy knowing that your back is covered."

"Are there any messages you would have me deliver?" the elder woman asked mysteriously. "I foresee the convergence of many beings on Miradon. If there is anyone you would have me send a greeting to..."

"I don't know that I am in pressing need of getting a message to any cosmic forces of the universe but you, Hera. I just regret that I won't be able to be there for them," Rita admitted. "After all, the last time they took a family trip it was out to dinner, and they got kidnapped and it took us a month to track them down and get them back. This is an expedition to a home planet. Seems those missions tend to be so eventful the Captain has tried to swear off Earth. You saw what happened at Mariposa. Last time we vacationed on Vulcan I ended up on Kathoom for a few months. As convergences of forces go, when we go home, it tends to be very eventful."

"But there's no way out of this. We can't take the chance that the location of Rendal we got isn't accurate, and we have to try to capture her. If she keeps tinkering with forces beyond her comprehension we're liable to all end up regretting it. Unless of course, this is a ruse to get us away from Dox and family so she can recapture her 'apprentice'," Rita actually used air quotes and a disdainful expression to emphasize her feelings on the matter. "So, much as Enalia and I would prefer to be there, duty calls. Literally, in this case."

"You must do as your duty calls," Hera acknowledged, nodding sagely, tapping her chin thoughtfully. "And I assume this Rendal is the one that is messing with primordial forces she should not be. In that case, I will indeed do all within my power to ensure the safety of all those in my charge."

"You just worry about the babies and their mothers. Between your honor guard, Mrs. Dox and Az'Prel, woe betide any who threaten your little birthing party." At that, Rita snapped her fingers. "Actually? Please say hello to Mammy and Pappy, Mona's adopted parents. They are the sweetest folks, and I have to admit, I'm going to regret not having gotten the chance to see them again. I should send a gift, but I've no idea what, I've been so distracted."

"If it's from the heart, it's always a wonderful gift. You know this," Hera prompted with a bit of a sly grin. "However... If I may recommend a traditional Earth gift of artistic ceramics or glass work depicting family? They were fairly common when last I was there, at least."

"Everything I have is replicated- wait, Hera, you're a genius!" Rita snapped her fingers and grinned. "Dox's grandparents had all of their household goods in storage, and she let me pick through it all. One of the pieces I took as a sort of whimsy was a ceramic mixing bowl decorated with running chicken designs that would make a perfect gift for them. Thank you!" The ancient astronaut grinned broadly, pleased to have found the right gift for the country couple of whom she was quite fond. "I'm going to take a guess and say you wouldn't mind delivering it, hm?"

"It would be my divine pleasure," Hera replied with a bow of her head. "I do believe that sounds like a wonderful gift idea. I will gift them with one of my blessings as usual."

"That sounds perfect. So... you will return to us safe and sound as well, yes?" Rita rose, intending to go fetch the mixing bowl and inform Hera's honor guard of their assignment. Plus she needed to track down Az'Prel and ask her for another favor, which made her realize that she didn't spend much time with the solitary Vulcan, and that she should.

"Without a doubt," Hera replied, with another bow of her head. "Do not worry on that, my daughter. I will ensure that both I and my charges will return safely and those that guard me will do so as well. You've trained them well."

Your lips to…” Rita began, then realized the absurdity of the axiom she was about to use. “Well. Yes, I have every confidence I am deeply overpreparing and being entirely too cautious. Which should ensure that everyone comes home safe and sound, with three new little birds in tow.”

“So pack your bags, Hera,” Rita added with a grin. “First vacation you’ve had in a while, even if it is a working one…”

As she moved about the starship USS Hera enacting her plans, Commander Rita Paris realized as she approached the quarters of the renegade refugee of the Mirror Universe of the Kelvinverse where she herself had originated- one Vulcan freedom fighter named Az’Prel.

The woman had been entrusted to her care by the Prophets of Bajor, the mysterious non-linear entities who dwelled in the ‘celestial temple’, the wormhole that connected the alpha and gamma quadrants. Since that time, she had received medical care, good nutrition and a home on the starship upon which she was slowly acclimating to a universe where Humans were not xenophobic tyrants.

Now, making her way to the VIP quarters which had been assigned to the Vulcan woman, Rita realized that she had never actually seen Az’Prel’s quarters, and that she literally had not spent time with the woman in recent memory. This, in turn, caused her to chide herself- Az’Prel was her responsibility, in a very real sense. Leaving the woman alone and not checking with her was not taking good care of her, and the fact that she was coming to her for a favor was not lost on Paris at all.

But it couldn’t be helped now- all she could do was to resolve to do better moving forward, and ask her favor. Arriving at the door, Rita pressed the door chime and awaited a reply.

"Enter," came the call of the refugee Vulcan woman from within her quarters. She had spent much time lately either studying, meditating on what she had studied, or observing people in either the lounge or the mess hall, and it had given her much to think on since her arrival in this universe. As had her visit to this universe's version of her homeworld, which still existed.

This day, when Commander Paris, the one that the wormhole beings had entrusted her safety to, came to her, she had once more been meditating at the Vulcan sandpit in the center of the living room. It was a dark wood box about 30 centimeters off the floor with several tools and 15 stones in it filled with a fine white sand used for meditative work.

This day there were many circles and few lines in the box, indicating cyclic logic.

The rest of the room had been dimmed to about half normal levels, which gave the three armor dummies wearing various sets of clothing from her past a somewhat eerie look. The first had the red padded Klingon armor she had arrived in. The second had the green combat priestess armor that the Vulcan Science Academy had requested she recreate. The third was the meditation robes that they had given her on Vulcan, signifying a return home.

The rest of her quarters were rather sparsely decorated, but she had a few holo-pics of Vulcan and a Vulcan ceremonial tea set that had been gifted to her by the Captain after the tribunal. Which was of no surprise to Rita. After all, Sonak’s quarters aboard the USS Exeter when they had met, had been little more than an empty quarters. While he indulged her desire for more aesthetics than bare walls, his own preferences, as was the way of his people, was a spartan décor.

Comparatively, Az’Prel had settled in and it appeared she was quite comfortable in the large quarters.

Taking it all in, Rita knelt on the floor outside the garden, not wishing to disturb the sands nor the meditator. Instead, she waited patiently- again, this was not unknown to her, and she was happy to give Az’Prel time to rise back through the levels of the subconscious to interact with her.

Finishing one last circular set of lines with the small wooden rake, Az'Prel set it aside and firmly placed a stone in the center of it, her eyes still closed. It took her a moment more for her to open her eyes and look up to greet her visitor.

"Rita. Your visit is unexpected, however not unwelcome. May I offer you refreshments?" The Vulcan woman seemed much more in control of herself than the last time she had been before the buxom commander. Then she was still dealing with the raging emotions of finding out her daughter and ex-lover had also somehow made it to this universe and that they wanted her and the crew of the Hera dead.

"No thank you, Az'Prel, although i appreciate the offer. I've actually come to ask a favor," Rita began, then shook her head, looking chagrined as she slid down onto her rump, her knees still folded beneath her. "And apparently to realize that the only time I seek you out is when I have a mission for you. I should rectify that, and I apologize for my behavior. I am one of your guides to this time and place, and once I got you acclimated a bit, I vanished from your life. Between that and only showing up when I need something, that makes me a pretty lousy friend. I know you still train with Security, and they are still glad for the training and insight. What else have you been up to on this city-sized starship of ours of late?"

"If there is blame, it also lies with me, for I have not sought you out for guidance." Az'Prel then looked back down at the large Vulcan sandbox used for meditation between them. "And though my normal methods of information gathering are useful, they are failing me in this new environment. My methods of thinking are insufficient to understand or predict the activities and actions of the denizens of this universe. I have spent considerable time... People watching... I... admit that the compassion and lack of violence is confusing."

"Many times I have been in the cafeteria monitoring... watching those there. Invariably, every morning, someone that looks like they could become violent if disturbed from their solo breakfast is joined, without invitation, by another crew member. Rather than the expected threats or violence, the intruder is met with smiles and cheer and the intruder does not initiate combat. It is... very different and I desire a better understanding in why this is."

There was barely a pause before the answer, as this was a question for which Rita Paris was not unprepared. Many first contacts races asked similar questions, and she had learned to boil it down to a simple binary answer of not right or wrong, but of human nature that seemed galactically applicable. "People tend to be motivated by one of two factors, in my experience. Fear, or wonder. Those motivated by fear are angry, selfish, petty and they denounce all that is not of themselves, as defined by their fears. Those who are motivated by wonder celebrate the diversity they encounter, learning what they can from it to enhance their own lives. They explore, they seek, and they come with the open hand of friendship. Those who come in fear, come to suppress, to conquer, to war against The Other, whom they fear."

"Those who come in wonder make friendships, forge alliances and seek harmony, for they see the universe as a thing of beauty, at which to marvel and seek to understand. Fear prefers ignorance." Rolling her eyes to the overhead, Rita frowned slightly then nodded. "If you will, the Vulcans and the Romulans. One comes in wonder, to serve. One skulks in fear, to conquer."

The lost Vulcan nodded solemnly, thinking on this logic. "The universe I am from, Vulcans are the conquerors that use violence and guile and Romulans the peaceful ones of wonder that welcomed the Terran empire with open arms, to their demise. Here they are the opposite. Yet there are two aboard that do not adhere to the behavior that is prescribed to those that attacked them."

She then picked up an unused stone and placed it at a junction between straight lines and a circle. "Thus this difference is not only a cultural difference, but an individual difference as well. In which case, I would not wish to meet Captain Telvan's counterpart from my, or a similar universe."

"You wouldn't really enjoy mine much either, trust me," Rita muttered. "There are always exceptions. Plus, fear, bigotry, distrust, and hostility can be taught, thus they can be untaught. Behaviors can be changed,m with time and patience. Even in this reality, the history of humanity is not a pretty one, and we were motivated by fear for most of our history. But we realized that we had to put that behind us and learn to trust, if we were to reach for the stars. We did, and instead of sending out our astronauts to seek new territory to conquer and peoples to oppress and enslave, we reached out in friendship. The core difference between Earthlings and Terrans."

"Thank you for this enlightenment, my friend. I have not resolved everything, but I feel I am closer." The Vulcan woman then folded her hands in front of her. "You have a mission for me?"

"I do. As I said... lousy friend. Mnhei'sahe and Mona, our Lieutenant Commander Dox and Lieutenant Gonadie, are having babies. Soon. It is Lieutenant Gonadie's wish to give birth on her home planet, so the children will be Miradonians by birth... as their heritage is mixed, this is important to her. Besides, the rest of her family is there, and she wants to go home to best and... I don't know if she lays eggs, but she is going to roost." Rita was reaching for the bird analogies here, and hoping they were getting through to the logician.

"Mrs. Dox, of course, is accompanying them. Because I am excessively paranoid, I am sending Hera along, with her honor guard. Just Jablonski and Liu. Now, with all of those personages involved, I should feel fine and secure about it all. Yet," Paris pointed that index finger at the overhead, then wagged it. An old affectation of her father's that she never would shake. "that unease... it persists."

"I would like for you to shadow them, Az'Prel. Be unseen, be the eyes on their perimeter, be ready for trouble when they are not. Just... in case." Shifting to more of a sitting position, Rita spread her hands. "If anything happens to either of them, or any of those kids, it is going to devastate them. They have both come so far in the past year... remember that encouraging the better nature through teaching and patience? Dox, Mrs. Dox, Mona... all of them have come so far in the past year. Hera... "

Pausing, Rita considered her course, then pursued it. "When I met Hera, she was a bored tyrant of a world she'd conquered a century ago, long resentful at having been brought back to this plane, and nursing a grudge against her husband, who philanders historically and rather epicly. Point being, when I met her, she sent away all of her followers but a precious few, and she was trying to commit suicide by Starfleet- I honestly believe that. Because she could have crushed us had she really wanted to... but she didn't."

"Hera offered me a boon for sparing her life, and for saving it a time or two after that. So I challenged her to be better... to be a goddess I could tell my kids about someday, not that monster on the planet." Shaking her head, Rita chuckled, which led to a wide smile. "Today she is that and more. I asked and she's going with them to ensure the births go well, because this is literally her cosmic folio, her... divine purview, I suppose?"

"As I said... they've all come so far in just a year or so. I can't let a tragedy befall them, Az'Prel. I've stacked the deck in their favor, but you are the one variable that no one can account for nor predict. At least, not in this universe. So just to make absolutely certain that I'm giving them every conceivable bit of luck I can squeeze out of this starship of secrets, short of having them bring along the Leprechaun, is to send you to watch over them all." The expression on the face of the pretty pilot was one of contrition.

"Which, again, I only come to you when I need something and that really does make me a less than stellar person. It would be different if you were Starfleet, but you are a guest. I'll do better, Az'Prel- I'm sorry. Realizing all of this I have no right to ask you for a personal favor, but..." Paris shrugged broadly, in a comic helpless gesture.

"You have come to me when you are in need, not for your own sake, but born of your concern for the safety of others." The Vulcan woman paused a moment before continuing in a softer voice, as if she were baring something deep within her. "My mentor was a member of a sect of logicians that fought for such ideals. Many of his other disciples died defending Rihannsu refugees that also believed in such things. We bound ourselves to their defense before Nero came. Before the universe fell apart."

"You have been there for me when I needed you, and you have been available to me this entire time. You have also helped me find purpose where I had lost it. Thus, logically, you are a good friend." Az'Prel said this with certainty before bowing her head and spreading her hands. "I accept this mission. None will harm them while under my watch. I am here to serve."

It was clear that the logical argument had touched the heart of the explorer, who moved out into the universe to find wonder and extend the hand of friendship. Rita Paris was humbled by the sentiment, and the unique woman who had espoused it. Her instinct was to hug, for Paris was by nature a hugger. But instead, she respected the alien individual, and adapted to their ways. To respect their culture, their needs, and their preferences, rather than forcing her own upon them. Raising her right hand, she stuck out her thumb and splayed her ring and middle fingers apart in a practiced V.

"You honor me, Az'Prel. Live long, and prosper."

"And you are my friend, Rita Paris," Az'Prel replied, returning the salute.

"Is this the customary moment for the emotional support grapple referred to as a... hug?"

The generally anxious young Lieutenant Commander, Mnhei'sahe Dox, was running a good degree more anxious than usual. In the quarters she shared with her extremely pregnant wife and bond-mate, Mona Gonadie, the red-headed Romulan pilot was muttering to herself out loud as she packed.

The timing for a vacation was poor, and she found herself torn between her myriad responsibilities and struggling to keep track of everything that was on her overburdened shoulders as she rifled through her closet, looking for her rare few personal items of clothes that weren't uniforms. As she did, she continued to mutter, her words a near-incomprehensible mix of Federation Standard and her native Romulan tongue. "Imirrhlhhse! Where are my kreldanni hiking boots?! I thought I left them here? UUUGH!!!"

Standing back up, she brushed her slightly-too-long red bangs out of her face and took a breath. "I should've gotten a haircut before... Okay. You're overthinking, Mnhei'sahe. Eiheu.Arhem'hna i'ihir eiheu. Arhem'hna eihev'le. I'm overthinking everything, aren't I, Kodi?"

Standing by the large, feathered nest that Mnhei'sahe and Mona shared as a bed stood the holographic representation of the android known as Kodria Mizu. While Mnhei'sahe futilely expressed a need to 'calm down' in her native tongue, her Romulan accent was particularly thick.

"As one that has been known to build a predictive algorithm based on my memories of the future..." Kodria replied with a wry grin, "I'm not sure I'm qualified to answer that. But I would probably worry a little less, Aunty. Everything is being planned for."

"Did you get that from me?" Sighing, Mnhei'sahe stood there for a moment and took a breath to think. The accent she usually kept in check thanks to years of practice was leaking out in the moment, but she wasn't even thinking about that as she talked to her young niece from the future. "I... I'm sorry, Kodi. I'm just... I'm trying to keep my head on where it needs to be with this, but I can't seem to shut down all the other thoughts all fighting for attention. All the different responsibilities. Again, the ship has a mission and I'm prioritizing my own life. Obviously, we can't postpone a birth, but I don't... I don't know how to turn off the part of my head that knows that the Captain is going to follow a lead on a mission as soon as we're safely away, and I can't help feeling like I'm failing by not... being everywhere for everything."

"A wise woman once told me that sometimes the best thing you can do for others is to take care of yourself," the young holographic android replied softly, stepping up to comfort the aunt she knew to be so much more mature in the future. "She taught me a lot of things like that and I found out that she's right. She was nothing like your stereotypical Rihannsu most of the time."

Turning, Mnhei'sahe raised an eyebrow at Kodria and let out an awkward chuckle. "Well, she clearly sounds like an obnoxious know-it-all."

Then, the wry grin faded just a little. "I suppose I'll have to figure out how I'm going to become her, eventually. And hopefully, before I screw up three lives trying. I... I'm not her. Not yet. This me... has no idea what she's doing, Kodi. And... I'm scared."

"It's ok though, because I know you'll be her eventually. There's no need to rush." Kodria wrapped her arms around Dox and gave her a hug as best she could. "And you're not alone. You're never alone. You know this. Even when I was alone on that station, trying to get a signal out, surrounded by monsters... I wasn't really alone even then, was I? So you're not alone now or ever."

"I know that, at least up here. " Mnehi'sahe said, pointing to her head as she returned the hug, "And here, in my kahlan'soh" she said, leaning back and putting her hand under her right breast, where the Romulan heart was. "I know I have all of you to help us. I know we're not doing this alone. I'm just..."

Listening to herself, Mnhei'sahe cleared her throat and centered herself, the accent reducing back to her normal, more controlled timbre as she took a breath. "I'm sorry. I'm being foolish and letting my emotions run away with me. Spiraling. But... thank you for listening, Kodi. I truly appreciate it."

"That's what I'm here for," Kodria replied with a smile. "Now how about we finish packing and get everything to the ship? I'm sure the Golden Ghost is likely already here."

"The Captain said she'd message me when the Ghost arrived, but you're right." Mnhei'sahe said as she pulled out a stack of fresh underwear and folded them into the shoulder bag on the bed while Kodria called up a holographic display that hovered around her head with the checklist for the trip.

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

On the far end of the newly remodeled family quarters on Deck 8, in the room that would soon be home to three newborn children, their mother sat on a massive, bean-bag like pillow of sorts, designed to be as comfortable as possible for a pregnant Miradonian woman carrying three chicks.

As Mona went through the somewhat oversized, yellow and orange printed diaper bag that Fiona O'Dell and Briaar Gavarus had custom-designed for her, her unconventional mother-in-law, Jaeih Dox, pulled out a large box of custom made diapers and specially designed wipes to put in the bag from the dresser in the room. "So, my dear, I must imagine that befeathered posteriors must offer just as many challenges as little Minerva's furry bottom when it's changing time. Miss Gavarus said that these cloths we use to clean Minnie were, in fact, designed for Miradonian needs?"

"Oh yes, I remember that we kept a rather large stock of them at the orphanage. I'm told the smell can be a bit much for some races, but they're quite good with fur and feathers alike, it seems." Mona was at the point she could only walk for short periods of time and even the largest maternity uniforms no longer fit her so she was relegated to custom-sized Miradonian jumpers. The one she had on was a pink, orange, and green pastel number that would blind most civilized person's sense of style. However, with her colorful plumage, it looked right at home. "Don't worry about packing too many though, there'll be plenty available freely at the Aerie and my foster parents will have plenty I'm sure."

"Indeed. But it's not Milla and Mardo I'm worried about. I'm fairly certain my daughter's Artan ship will have somewhere between zero and less than zero." Jaeih looked over with a light, friendly smirk. "And Mnhei'sahe didn't develop her ability to over-plan out of the ether, after all. That said, how are you feeling, my dear?"

"True enough..." With a sigh, the gravid avian rubbed her belly and rolled her eyes. "I feel like an overripe rafa fruit about to burst. As much as I want to see my homeworld again, I'm not sure if I'm going to be up for much sightseeing. I think I might have overplanned that..."

Zipping up the bag, Jaeih made an exaggerated 'Tsk tsk" sound as she shook her head at her daughter-in-law. "Well, that will be quite disappointing for Ensign Gavarus. After all the work she put into manufacturing you a hover-chair for your trip that will convert into a hover pram for the children once they are born, it would be a pity for it to go to waste."

As she spoke, the slightest of curves creased her patrician facade as she let one of her surprises out a little early to try and lift Mona's spirits. "In truth, if Miss O'Dell could take the time, I think she would have volunteered to walk you around holding you in the Banshee's hands like a child. They are quite endearing."

"Oh, they are. However, they'll likely be needed here so there's no hope of that happening. Besides, Briaar has to run the R&D department for me while I'm away. After all, the Warchicken still needs a lot of simulation testing before we can even get approval to replicate the first part. On top of that, Nursery One still has a lot of work left." Mona waggled a finger in the air, a wide grin on her face. "Plenty of work to be done. But... I will make good use of the chair."

"Indeed. And I expect a thorough tour when we arrive, my dear. Now, I'll have this bag and your personal luggage beamed directly to the Khallianen's hold momentarily. But Mnhei'sahe mentioned that the children had stopped singing for a period after the last mission. I can feel them thrumming from here, so can I assume you've all recovered well?"

"Then I'll be sure to show you the spires of Quen'tar, the arch of Quen'sourri, the mountains of Quen'tassee... And especially the orphanage I grew up in... on the outskirts of Quen'toukie. The Aeries aren't far from there, but we'll be making landfall and processing through customs at Quen'Quen, almost on the opposite side of the world.

Tilting her head, Jaeih's eyebrow raised and the faint smile on her lips dropped slightly. "While I look forward to that, you evaded my question, my dear. Are you and the children well?"

"Ah... Well... I think the attack separated their minds early... I mean, they're thrumming again, though softly, but they're not singing anymore..." Mona was fidgeting, wringing her hands and her eyes trying to find something on the floor to focus on. It was obvious she was either worried or lying - perhaps both. "I'm sure they're fine, but with so many variables..."

Reading her daughter-in-law's body language, Jaeih simply crossed her legs and sat on the ground in Mona's field of view. As she did, she placed a hand gently on Mona's belly and met her eyes. The patrician facade was gone, replaced by a genuinely soft expression that Mona had rarely seen on the formerly hardened Romulan woman. "I can feel them thrumming. Tell me, can they still feel me?"

"I... know that I don't have Mnhei'sahe's strength. Her abilities. But... this. I treasure this sensation. And... they can feel that, can't they?" Jaeih asked, a leading question. "Show them. Show them we are here for them."

Mona sighed softly and placed her hands on top of Jaeih's, breathing steadily. "I can feel you. I can feel that they feel you. They know we're there for them. I'm told that this separation of their minds like this isn't supposed to happen until the toddler phase, but they're already forming unique thoughts and being silent to each other and... And to me... And it's... I don't know if it's because of their lineage or the recent mission or a combination of the two..."

Mona nodded and rubbed one hand a bit lower. "But two of them know we're all here for them. The third... she feels rebellious."

"Sounds like my granddaughter," Jaeih said with an awkward, nervous chuckle that, to Mona, sounded bizarrely similar to the same kind of laugh that Mnhei'sahe made when she was uncomfortable.

"Perhaps it is, as you said, a little bit of... lineage. Romulans actively chose to close our minds off to each other thousands of years ago. Our people gave up our abilities." Jaeih said, her voice getting a little quieter, "But your mothers did not, children. They opened their minds to each other. And their hearts.  If you can hear me, then know you are together. We are all together. And we will wait for you to understand that."

The brightly plumed avian stared down at herself for several long moments before replying. "I'm not sure, but I think something may have changed. Which is odd since for the past several months I've known their every thought. Now I hear their surface thoughts, but not their deeper ones... but they feel... more open. Less reclusive and silent. Thank you."

"Give it time, Mona, my dear." Jaeih said. "They are unique. There has never been their like before in this galaxy. There will be much we will all have to learn along the way. But we shall do so together."

At which point, the door to the room opened with a gentle hiss, with Mnhei'sahe and Kodria on the other side. "Kodria says that the Golden Ghost is in the system for the rendezvous." Her anxiety from earlier evaporated at the sight of her bond mate, and a broad smile stretched across Mnhei'sahe's cheeks. "Are you ready, Jhu Dhael?"

"As ready as I'll ever be, my Minay," Mona replied with a soft smile, reaching up to her lover. "They're not going to make us sleep on traditional Rihannsu ship beds, are they?"

"No, our accommodations should be a bit closer to what we're used to. I mean, the Ghost is technically my ship, so I made sure to tell Maenek t'Liun what to expect." Mnhei'sahe said with a grin.

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

"Captain, We're being hailed by the Commander of the ARW Golden Ghost." The young Bolean woman at Opps said as the vintage T'liss class Romulan Bird of Prey from another era uncloaked right on schedule on the main screen of the U.S.S. Hera. 

"Punctual as usual," Enalia said with a grin. "On screen."

On the viewscreen, the image of a familiar Romulan woman with a mostly serious expression, with just a hint of a smile behind her eyes appeared. Unlike the Dox's, Helev T'liun had the characteristic forehead ridges of a good percentage of the population, but her dark brown hair was simply pulled into a ponytail without the military bangs. "Captain Telvan. As always, it is my honor to serve."

"Doctor t'Liun, it's good to see you again. Thank you for your support in all of this. The happy couple and their entourage should be signaling their readiness at any moment now." Enalia'a grin widened a bit at Helev's concession to finally call her Captain as Enalia wished, so she called her Doctor rather than Commander in return.

"Entourage? The party has grown, I suppose. We, of course, have full accommodations prepared and the main shuttle bay has been prepared for the transfer ship." The doctor turned Commander that hated the title replied. "And I swear to you on our honor, that they shall be safe and afforded every comfort under our aegis, Captain."

"Thank you," Enalia replied with her usual lopsided grin. "I'll have to warn you though. One of your guests is an ancient being known as Hera. She has an aversion to replicated food and her aura... You might have a few more pregnancies than the average while she's aboard."

"Hera? Like..." t'Liun said with a slightly raised eyebrow and surprised tone before composing herself again. "Huh... it appears this journey is to get more and more... interesting. Thankfully, we have a full galley aboard and it is well stocked as the ba... the Lieutenant Commander informed me of her wife's preferences for non-replicated meals."

The slightly off-guard Doctor stumbled a little this time remembering the correct Starfleet rank of the woman she knew as an Artan Baroness first and foremost, but corrected herself quickly. "As for my crew, I shall have to trust them to maintain... their discipline for the two days travel time to Miradon. But... what do you mean, 'aura'?"

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

As the two ship's Mistress talked, the two Dox's flanked the exceedingly round Mona as they very slowly made their to the Hera's main flight deck. Their bags had been beamed to their personal ship, the Khallianen, which they would be using to transfer from the Hera to the Golden Ghost, and again from the Ghost to the surface of Miradon once they arrived, as beaming was considered an unnecessary hardship on the children this close to their delivery.

On Mnhei'sahe's request, Kodria had gone ahead to run a last-minute check on the refurbished J-Type freighters systems before flight. And, it gave the women a chance to have a moment alone before the transfer. Mnhei'sahe was aware that Rita was preparing additional security for them, with the threat of Riov Dalia Rendal ever-present, but she wasn't aware of the full breadth of the retinue that was being assembled as the trio gently waddled from the turbolift to the main flight deck of Deck 4.

"We're almost there, Jhu Dhael." Mnhei'sahe said gently, her arm wrapped around Mona's own as she referred to her with the Romulan term for 'Angel Bird'. "Do you need to rest again for a moment?"

Mona gave her lover a weak grin and a soft chuckle as she paused a moment. "Well, let's just say I miss my youth when I wasn't so bound by gravity."

Smiling, Mnhei'sahe nodded her head slightly. "That's still something, I admit, is hard to process. That you could actually fly. That the children might be able to as well. It's... amazing to me."

"Oh, you're simply jealous, Mnhei'sahe." Jaeih said with a smirk from the other side of Mona's prodigious paunch. "Not that I blame you. I am a bit as well."

As they approached the double doors to the flight deck, the children began thrumming a bit louder then they had been. It was a sound that seemed to encapsulate the excitement of children anticipating something wonderful and Mnhei'sahe looked down at Mona's belly. As they were touching, the full strength of their empathic bond was intact and both women could feel the ramping emotions of their three children at the door.

As the pressure doors to the flight deck opened, standing beyond was an assemblage of people, a surprise to the small family unit that was making their way to their craft to depart the USS Hera. In the back was the hulking Petty Officer Jablonski, flanked by the much shorter Petty Officer Liu, both of whom were standing protectively close to Hera herself, who was dressed in her finest white toga with a blue accent and some lovely gold filigree embroidery. Beside her were the unlikely pair of Gavarus and O’Dell, both of whom looked to be on the verge of a happy cry for their very pregnant chief and her wife, little Minnie parked on the generous hip of the tall Tellarite.

Standing in front of all of them was Rita Paris, clad in her anachronistic gold minidress uniform from 130 years ago, hands clasped behind her back and a warm smile on her face. While beside and slightly behind her was Az’Prel, the Vulcan freedom fighter who was clad in a dark grey outfit reminiscent of the Intel uniform covered by her Vulcan Meditation robes.

“We thought we would take advantage of the moment to remind you that you’re not allowed to just slip off the ship without saying goodbye,” Paris offered with a grin. “Also, I’ve assigned a few extra personnel for your away mission… I hope you don’t mind.”

In the moment, Mnhei'sahe gave her wife's hand a squeeze as her own face blushed a noticeable shade of green. She couldn't help but let a smile cross her cheeks as she looked over at the assemblage of her friends and crewmates and spoke, a laugh in her voice. "A few? That's a bit of an understatement, Commander."

Immediately, Mnhei'sahe knew exactly what had been going on in her friend and commanding officer's mind as she continued. "This is certainly ONE way to stack the proverbial deck in our favor against the strange tendency of something always going wrong whenever any of us visit our homeworlds."

“Well, R&D is just here to see you off,” Paris specified. “Hera, Security and Az’Prel, I will admit, are here to stack the odds in your favor. Just in case. Not that I doubt anyone’s capability,” Paris added, offering meaningful glances to Dox and Mrs. Dox. “Of course, I’m also stalling so that the Captain has time to get down here from the bridge to see you off as well, so look surprised when she shows up.” Opening her arms, Rita stepped forward for a hug or two.

"Heh, really? I'm the worst liar of any Romulan you will ever meet, and I need to 'look surprised'?" Mnhei'sahe joked as she met Rita for a hug that, in spite of her light tone, was just held a bit longer and closer than normal. The emotions were clear in the moment as the anxious Romulan whispered faintly in Rita's ear, her voice a little cracked, "Thank you."

“I can’t be there to watch your back,” Rita whispered back, low enough that only the sensitive ears of the intended audience could hear. “To make sure nothing goes wrong, and I am not entirely convinced we are not going on a wild goose chase after Rendal, as this might be a plot on her part. So be careful, Mnhei’sahe. I am sending every precaution I can, short of convincing the Captain to turn the Hera around or sending a pirate fleet to accompany you, but… duty calls, and we have to investigate this lead.“

It was abundantly clear that Rita Paris was fretting, in her own way, over the safety of her friends, who were her shipmates and her family. A woman of action, she was accustomed to handling situations in person, issuing orders and improvising on the spot when needed. Now she was sending the Romulan/Miradonian family off on their own, and she couldn’t help but recall the last time she did such a thing, which resulted in a chase across the Neutral Zone and a battle on Romulus itself to bring their people home safely once more.

"We will, Rita." Mnhei'sahe replied, maintaining her whisper. "We have... an abundant amount of back up to watch out for us. You be careful too. Don't underestimate her."

Then, pulling back slightly, the young Romulan's eyes were clearly watery as she cleared her throat and tugged down on her uniform top. "Anyway. I've got Ensign Wieaex up to speed on the department needs and she won't let you down. As for the helm, if it gets to that, there's very little I can do in that chair that our Miss O'Dell can't, except maybe curse in Romulan."

Nodding, it was clear to Rita that Mnhei'sahe was saying so to assuage her own nerves as much as anyone else. In the crowd of friends and family, the portly porcine with the baby Minotaur on her hip smirked and called out, "Yeah, but she can make up for it in Gaelic, L-C!"

“Aye mum! Dinna ye worry- if fancy flyin is called for, I’ll be sure ta throw in a few 'immerse ahram draed’s' fer ye!” the cheerful Leprechaun chimed in, even as she and her porcine partner moved in on their section chief for some hugs all around. “Ye take lotsa holos and send ‘em, aye? We’re lookin forward ta seein yuir wee bairns, and that tropical paradise ye call home, y’ken?

"OOH, OOH, yeah! There's actually a holo recorder built into the hover-pram. It's all strapped down on the Kaa... the Ka.. hail... uh, the L-C's ship, but there's a PaDD with all the info on how to convert it from the pram to the chair for you an' shit. It's decked out. Even used some of the inertial dampening fields we've been working on for the WarChicken in there." Gavarus said, proud of her invention for her Chief, who the Towering Tellarite admired greatly. "We wanna see it all, chief!" 

Mona frowned slightly - something she rarely did. "I'll take what images I can. Holography is pretty restricted on Miradon because of hunters though. I mean, I don't think they've gotten past the defenses or customs in... at least a hundred years... But still. When you were hunted to less than a million people by scale-skins only a few generations ago, things are slow to change."

"Joost bebeh pitchers'll do, mum. Dinna break inny laws, we're joost excited fuir ye is all," O'Dell reassured the chief, her brogue thickening a bit as the emotion swelled within her.

Fidgeting, little Minerva O'Dell wriggled enough for Briaar to finally let her down on her own little hooves. "Dammit, wriggler. There ya go. You're down."

Without missing a beat, the miniature Minotaur toddled over to Jaeih, who spent much of her time watching over the fuzzy little child when her parents were on duty, and wrapped herself around the legs of the stern-faced Romulan woman. "GAMMY!"

"Yes, my dear. I shall not be long, I promise. We shall all return soon enough, and when we do, you will have three wonderful new friends." As Jaeih spoke with a warm grin, she knelt down on one leg and gently placed a hand on Mona's belly. As she did, Minnie's eyes went wide with wonder and a smile stretched across her fuzzy face as she ever-so-gently hugged up against the avian aviatrix's pregnant belly, being surprisingly careful to keep her horns away as she let out a sound that was a cross between a purr and a moo.

With a bright smile, Mona scritched on Minnie a bit. "They're excited to meet you in person too, Minnie. You and Moira both."

"An' Hermoine!" Minnie nodded, referring to the newest addition to Daycare 1, with whom she also felt a kinship of sorts.

As Briaar picked Minnie back up, Mnhei'sahe turned to where the Goddess Hera, Petty Officer's Liu and Jablonski, and Az'Prel were all standing together. "Before we head out, I just wanted to thank all of you. None of you are required to accompany us on this trip, of course. But all things considered, I know we will rest easier knowing you will be there. You have.. all of our thanks, beyond what I can say in words. Thank you."

"I'd like to echo those thanks," Enalia added, coming up on them from the flight deck main entrance. "None of you had to say yes, but you did, and for that you have our eternal gratitude." She then turned to Mona and Dox, taking them both into as much of a hug as she could. "There are a dozen Artan system patrol craft monitoring the known hotspots in the area for trouble so hopefully there should be less trouble than usual planetwide."

Nodding, Mnhei'sahe smiled at Enalia, returning the hug. "Thank you. Thank you, Captain. I... I can't believe all of this. All of you"

As they pulled apart, Mnhei'sahe kept her arm tight around Mona as she smiled at the assembly of friends and family that she still didn't quite believe was real as she half expected to wake up somewhere else. But instead, she was there in that moment. "I sure with all of you, we'll... I don't know if there are any other precautions we could take."

Reaching behind her, Rita Paris produced a Type 2 phaser of her era, the classic black and dark blue model that had tamed the wild frontier of space, and tossed it at the Rihannsu pilot who certainly didn't need it, but Rita figured, What the hell. "It's dangerous to go alone. Take this."

Catching the vintage-style phaser that the young Romulan woman knew all too well from her time serving with Rita, she couldn't help but smile. Looking at the weapon a moment, she chuckled lightly as she afixed the phaser to her belt and smiled back at her friend. But before she could reply, the goddess of women and family's face lit up with recognition.

"Oh! I get that reference!" blurted out the matronly Hera, a wide grin on her face as she rested a hand on Dox's shoulder. "Ah, sorry... I got excited. It's not every day you... Nevermind. A mutual acquaintance wanted me to tell you that she has no plans on visiting Miradon on the day your daughters are born, if you catch my meaning."

Smiling, Mnhei'sahe nodded. Of all of the friends and crew members there, she was the most surprised by the presence of the matronly goddess. They knew each other and Hera had assisted the young Romulan before when her mind had been compromised, but they weren't as close of friends as Dox thought they probably should be. But the acquaintance in question, the young pilot knew well: Masato Rei. The woman known as the embodiment of Death, who was not with them there on the flight deck.

Of all the friends Mnhei'sahe Dox had made since joining the Hera, she might have been the most unusual. But a friend she was, and Dox knew the nature of Rei's job very well, and thus understood exactly what Hera meant. It was, in effect, a blessing to her children. Bowing lightly, Mnhei'sahe replied to the goddess, "Thank you, Hera. That is... very comforting to know."

"And... I'd like to thank you specifically for coming. I would never wish to ask you for your blessing, but with everything that's happened and everything that could, I... WE... are in your debt." Mnhei'sahe said, a bit more formally than normal, as she tended to be around the Goddess she respected.

Hera bowed her head respectfully, a bright smile on her face. "The debt is mine to repay, my dear. For the second chance I was given at life and to be the goddess worthy of tales told to your children and your children's children."

Smiling, Dox caught Rita's proud smile out of the corner of her eye. The Romulan pilot had never met the former tyrant goddess of Meroset. The first time she had met Hera, the goddess was a very different woman. Not quite as matronly or happy seeming as she was now, but still willing to put herself between Death and Rita Paris with all of her strength. On a ship of redemption, Hera was perhaps it's greatest success.

"It is my intention that our children will know you well, Hera. As it should be." Mnhei'sahe replied warmly.

With that, final hugs and warm wishes were expressed, particularly from Fiona and Briaar, who were edging over into blubbering territory for their beloved section chief. After a few minutes, Enalia and Rita said their goodbyes and returned to the bridge of the mighty starship as the entourage boarded the small craft to transfer over to the Golden Ghost. It was a good thing that the Ghost would be doing the bulk of the two-day trip to Miradon as the cozy personal craft wasn't quite spacious enough to properly carry a group of seven comfortably, and there was only the one bed on the Khallianen.
Petty officer Jablonski and the Vulcan Az'Prel helped Mona onto the ship as they were the physically strongest women there and made the boarding as easy and pleasant as possible, making sure the pregnant Miradonian was well secured while the rest of the passengers strapped themselves into the bench seats for the short, ship-to-ship trip. Meanwhile, Mnhei'sahe took a last moment to take a visual inspection of her ship before they departed. 

It was the first quiet moment of the last hour as she had the flight deck to herself as she looked over the nacelles and the landing struts. he checked for visible leaks or any problems but, of course, the prep that she, Mona and Briaar had done had made sure the ship was in exceptional condition, so in truth, it was just to give the anxious Romulan a moment to catch her breath. But in the moment of silence, she could sense something she couldn't sense before in the presence of Hera and with Mona so near. It was a familiar presence that she had learned to feel, even when she couldn't see her.

Looking around for a moment, Mnhei'sahe smiled and chuckled lightly as she felt the very unique aura generated by Masato Rei and her pale horse, Taxes. Though normally, Mnhei'sahe could see the woman tasked with the job of being the embodiment of Death, it was obvious that Rei didn't want to worry Mnhei'sahe unduly and was making herself invisible. But the two women shared a unique connection, and Dox's nascent senses could feel the presence of her friend, there to see her off.

With a light nod, as the Romulan mother-to-be stepped on the ship's ramp to depart, she whispered to the seemingly empty room. "Thank you, Rei."

And with that, she boarded the craft with a smile and the Khallianen departed for their future.

While the travel time to Mona Gonadie's home planet of Miradon would take approximately two days at warp in the Artan owned, refurbished Romulan Bird of Prey known as Isahj’ey Aehallh, or the ’Golden Ghost’, the flight from the Hera to the Ghost on Mnhei’sahe and Mona’s personal ship, the Khallianen, only took a few minutes.

The Khallianen would be required to deliver Mnhei’sahe, Mona, Mnhei’sahe’s mother Jaeih, and the rest of their group from the Golden Ghost to the surface of Miradon and anywhere else on the planet they needed to go, as the ship’s doctor restricted the VERY pregnant Miradonian mother-to-be from using Transporters unless absolutely necessary. So the Khallianen would take them where they needed to go. But considering the last time Mnhei’sahe, Mona and Jaeih took the small, re-furbished J-Type freighter anywhere as a family, it lead to the two Romulan women’s violent kidnapping at the hands of the Tal Shiar, the travelers were taking no chances.

Aside from being a Lieutenant Commander in Starfleet, Mnhei’sahe Dox was also a Baroness in the Artan Empire, and that came with some interesting perks. One of which was a flagship of her own, and that flagship was the Golden Ghost. Crewed by Romulan expatriates, many of which had been freed from the repressive Star Empire by Dox and her mother years ago when the two were smugglers, the ship was fiercely loyal to their somewhat reluctant Baroness. With their cloaking device, it was chosen as the best available means to transport the family to Miradon for the birth of their three children.

The docking in the shuttle bay of the Ghost was an uneventful procedure and the Dox/Gonadie family and their retinue, which consisted of the Vulcan refugee Az’Prel, the literal Goddess Hera, and Hera’s honor guard of petty officers Ethel Jablonski and Akane Liu, disembarked without incident.

The ship’s commander, an inscrutable Romulan woman named Helev t’Liun had been on the bridge when the group arrived, leaving her younger SubCommander in charge of the onboarding, which went fairly smoothly as officers escorted the parties to their respective cabins.

Since the Golden Ghost was a T’liss class Bird of Prey that originated from the same era that Rita Paris came from, the quarters provided were a good bit smaller than what the crewmembers were used to from the Hera, and doubling up was the rule of the day, Mnhei’sahe and Mona were roomed together. As were Az’Prel and Jaeih, and Jablonski and Liu. Hera received her own VIP accommodations, being the retinue’s resident goddess, and her two honor guard took up their usual positions outside of her chamber as per usual. Which, as a site on a Romulan ship, was anything but usual as the two muscle-bound women stood guard.

The mothers-to-be were stationed in the Command cabin, which was a bit larger and had been fitted with a much larger and more comfortable bed than was standard, even though it was still much smaller than their nest back on the Hera. But that served to make things cozier for the two lovebirds as they attempted to settle in for the trip.

Going through their bag in the corner, Mnhei’sahe seemed tenser than usual as Mona sat on the larger bed. “When we arrived, SubCommander… tr’Naek said that Doctor t’Liun would be coming by shortly to greet us and to give you a medical scan so that the MedBay has all your most current information on file. Doctor Power sent over all of our records, but she likes to be thorough.”

"They all seem like good people. And this seems like a good ship." Mona was rather attentive as she sat on the bed watching her lover. "But you don't like it, do you? These walls or the people being so respectful?"

Sighing, Mnhei'sahe was trying to keep busy, re-organizing the bags and moving clothes around needlessly. "They are... They are good people and the ship is... it's a good ship. They helped save my life once and got us to Mol Krun'chi without detection. It's... It's just all... a little too familiar, I suppose."

"I mean, the basic ship might be from Rita's era, but the interiors have all be refurbished. They're modern Rih... Romulan design. Same materials and fixtures." Mnhei'sahe corrected herself from saying 'Rihannsu', the actual name for her people in their own language. It was a word, she found, that seemed to just confuse others and she was trying to become more accustomed to using 'Romulan', even though the word stung a bit for her. "It's... It's just a bit too much like the quarters I was kept in on my Grandmother's ship."

"As for the crew... they swore themselves to my barony, but it's not like I served here on it. It's not... I haven't earned being treated like a Captain. I... don't like it. Especially here." Mnhei'sahe said, still fussing with their luggage and looking more flustered.

"No, but as you mentioned mere moments before, the entire crew are people that you and your mother liberated from the Empire when you were young. That, coupled with Enalia's belief in your potential to be a great Baroness someday, plus your proven ability to be a great Commander that's even taken command of the Hera in a crisis..." The brightly plumed avian waggled a finger at her mate, a knowing grin on her face. "Whether you feel you're ready or not, everyone else does."

"As for the interior... I'm not sure what to tell you about that. Maybe ask if we can paint the walls?" Mona suggested.

A smile cracked Mnhei'sahe's nervous face as she let out a light sigh. "Maybe I'll have you do a renovation in here at some point. I think Doctor t'Liun would go for a paint job. At least in HERE. Seriously, this room. It's... the same lighting fixtures. The same wall patterns. They put in the better bed, but every time I've been here, I try and find excuses to not sleep. Waking up here in the dark. It's... uncomfortably familiar."

"But... enough dwelling. I'm just going to make it worse thinking about it." The anxious, red-headed Romulan woman said as she put the bag back down and walked over across the mid-sized room to lean over and give her wife a hug and a kiss on the cheek. "I'll get used to the rest. But trying to remember some an entirely different crew roster is going to take a bit of doing."

"Hey... the girls. They're... a bit more energetic again." Mnhei'sahe said, noticing immediately how much more reactive their three children were through their empathic bond. 

The round avian giggled softly, her grin widening. "Yeah, mom and Minnie talked with them and they perked up a bit. Plus I think they're as eager to be out of me as I am."

"I can imagine. Well, we're all pretty excited to finally meet them." Mnhei'sahe said with a smile as she gently ran her hand across Mona's cheek.

As she did, there was a chirrup at the door which was a lower, more harsh-sounding one than either woman was used to from the Hera. At the sound, Mnhei'sahe stood up straight and adjusted her crimson uniform top. "Ah, there she is. Come."

Pausing for a moment, the red-headed Romulan rolled her eyes and chuckled. "Right… forgot." As she stepped over and pressed the pad by the side of the door to open it. On the other side, in a simple gray uniform tunic and pants was the Commander of the ship and Chief Medical Officer, Helev t'Liun. Her hair had been trimmed to a much shorter, dark brown crop cut since the last time Mnhei'sahe had seen her, and she had a professional and neutral expression.

"Commander Dox. I apologize for my inability to welcome you directly as ship's business had to be attended to, but I ask your forgiveness." The inscrutable doctor said as she waited in the corridor, medical bag over her shoulder.

"Not at all, Doctor. Please, come in." Mnhei'sahe said, gesturing inside as the taller woman stepped in. "Doctor Helev t'Liun, this is my wife, Lieutenant Mona Gonadie."

"It's a pleasure to finally meet you. With our bond, I feel I know a lot about you already, but as we say on Miradon, you can't truly know someone until you dine with them. I hope we can enjoy dinner together tonight if you're not too busy? After all, I hear you have actual Rihannsu cuisine aboard and while I do my best..." With a wink at Dox, Mona continued with mischief in her eyes. "I'm curious as to how close I've actually gotten."

With the slightest hint of a grin in the corner of her mouth, t'Liun nodded slightly. "It is a pleasure and an honor, Lieutenant Gonadie. In her stays here, Commander Dox has spoken of you with great reverence, and I can see why. As for dinner, we have a full galley and are fully stocked with fresh ingredients, as is both your preference and, apparently the preference of our other passenger Hera, as Captain Telvan explained to me. But I look forward to dining with you all, to be sure."

"However, I must ask if I may perform medical scans. I wish to have the most up to date data as is possible for while you are here in my care," t'Liun asked, holding up her medical bag.

Mona held her hands up, her ever-present smile signifying her willingness. "I am at your disposal, Doctor. I am ever a willing patient for those that intend no harm."

Nodding, t'Liun pulled out a medical scanner and began running it in front of Mona as she spoke. "No harm whatsoever, Lieutenant. From this... bond... you both speak of, you will know that I'm quite... judicious in my desire for as much information regarding every person under my aegis. Based on your medical records from the Hera, we've already synthesizing a store of blood and plasma and now..."

"With these scans, your children as well." T'liun said as she entered data into her equipment. "Hmm... it looks like you have a minor deficiency in your corticosterone levels. Likely due to your pregnancy being three months longer than is common for your people. Nothing to worry about for any of you, and easily remedied with some dietary... tweaks. I'll have the galley supplement about 500 milligrams into your meals while onboard."

Raising her eyebrow, Mnhei'sahe tilted her head slightly. "You've researched Miradonian physiology, Doctor?"

Looking slightly incredulously at the question, t'Liun scoffed in an exaggerated fashion as she finished her scans. "The wife of my Baroness is coming on board, pregnant with three children and at the end of a third trimester she ordinarily wouldn't even had experienced if not for your Rihannsu DNA requiring more... baking, and you need to ask me if I've researched her biology. As soon as you made the request, I downloaded every text on her biology possible and performed 6 sim births already. Really.

Rolling her eyes, t'Liun allowed a legitimate smile out as she looked at Mona, "As for you, Lieutenant Gonadie, thank you for your time. You appear to be in excellent health and as long as you are on this ship, I shall keep you that way."

The colorful avian chuckled softly as she glanced over at her mate. "We like her. She's definitely a good choice for... Ah... I'll let the two of you discuss that later." She then turned back to Doctor t'Luin, a bit more serious. "You've probably run across their work, but Doctors Hanus and Gass De'Kay of the Miradonian Reproductive Institute have several wonderful interspecies prenatal care papers. Or so Doctor Power says, anyway. Their work is what he based his treatment on. I'd tell you if he was lying or not... but as a hologram, I can see right through him..."

Raising an eyebrow, the Doctor glanced at Dox momentarily, thinking on Mona's earlier statement and logging it mentally as she addressed the other, more medically relevant bits from the pregnant Miradonian, "Ah, yes. Multi-fractal, layered pupils with one of the broadest range of receptors along the EM spectrum. Miradonians can... see changes in temperature, humidity, atmospheric conditions, galvanic skin responses, and photonic layering. It's actually remarkable scientifically and makes you a remarkably effective lie detector. Several Miradonians serve in the Artan fleet in that exact capacity, in fact."

"And yes, I've read the work of Hanus and Gass De'Kay. Along with the opposing theories of Doctors Carrie and Herb Rotiserie who wrote several papers that all largely said that such a union would be impossible due to the nature of Vulcanoid blood and a fundamental incompatibility of the platelets in copper-based blood and a wildly different consistency of plasma concentrations." As she spoke it was abundantly clear that Doctor t'Liun had more than done her homework. "Doctor Hanus, in specific, developed the conversion formula that would allow for the proper genetic matching while keeping the mother from suffering from blood poisoning. Ingenious work that, until now, was completely theoretical."

"Lieutenant Gonadie. Barrone... Commander Dox... I would ask..." t'Liun knitted her brows slightly as she considered her words. "Once we arrive, I have full confidence in the doctors to care for your medical needs properly... but I would be remiss in my duties if I did not accompany you to ensure the health of the children. After all, genetically, they are half-Rihannsu and Rihannsu DNA is... aggressive. And its care is something of a specialty of mine. If there are any complications, I would... request to be at your sides."

As she spoke, Mnhei'sahe looked at Mona to see what she thought.

Mona nodded her approval. "We need to get her a Miradon medical visa. She's a keeper."

"I thank you for your trust in me, Lieutenant. You embody the spirit of your mate's name, and I shall endeavor to return your... honor." t'Liun said, bowing slightly as she referenced the Romulan word for honor, known as the 'ruling passion' or 'mnhei'sahe' in their native tongue. "In the meantime, the ship is yours and I remain at your disposal for the remainder of the journey. We are currently at warp 6 and are scheduled to arrive at Miradon in 53 hours. I hope your chamber meets your needs and... there was something else you wished to discuss, Commander?"

"The room is... fine... yes, Doctor. Thank you." Mnhei'sahe replied, slightly uncomfortably, nodding slightly. "And yes, there is. But we can discuss it over dinner if you'd prefer. There's no rush."

"Very well, Commander. As always, I am in your service." t'Liun bowed a little deeper and turned to the door. "Once you've settled in, evening meal is served at 18 bells in the officer's galley. Your party, myself and SubCommander tr'Naek. I shall take my leave and allow you your time. Jolan'tru, Commander. Jolan'tru, Lieutenant Gonadie."

"Jolan'tru, Doctor. It was a pleasure meeting you," Mona replied with a bright smile as Helev made her exit.

"Sorry, I slipped up." Mona was referring to the business her bond-mate had with Helev t'Luin relating to the acquisition of more Artan vessels to Dox's Barony and making the Doctor her Second, making her rank in the organization likely even more frustrating.

Pausing to let out a breath, Mnhei'sahe shoulders slumped making it clear just how 'on' she had been when t'Liun was there. "It wasn't a slip-up. I need to talk to her about it. I don't want to, but it needs to be done. I can't be in all places. I can't manage my responsibilities to the Artan's AND my responsibilities to Starfleet at the same time. To say nothing of my most important responsibilities."

Sitting next to Mona on the bed, the weary Romulan woman put her hand on her wife's belly. "To you. And to them."

"This is true. You can't be in all places at once. You need people you can rely on and my eyes tell me you... We... Can rely on her." Mona had turned serious as she rested a hand on Dox's hand. The thrumming coming from the chicks seemed to agree with her assessment.

"I trust her, but it's always good to get the chorus to chime in." Mnhei'sahe said with a light laugh. "She has had multiple opportunities to betray me if she had been working for the Tal'Shiar and instead put her own life on the line. Beyond that, when Sonak created a group mind-meld here so we could remove the programing of Lieutenant Ayamo Oulette during the Mol Krun'chi mission, she joined us. So... I've been in her mind and her in mine." Mnhei'sahe added, nodding as she recounted the events of 4 months ago.

"And I... hope she'll agree to my idea. To take on the role as my second to take over a bit for me here." Mnhei'sahe leaned her head on Mona's shoulder, softer than usual as her generally plush plumage had molted and regrown much thicked than usual in preparation for the children. "Rita... Rita, I think, is scared that I'll abandon Starfleet for the Artan's. Between the pressure to help Captain Telvan restructure this organization and my Grandmother naming me as a legal representative of the Romulan Senate, I'm feeling pulled thinner than ever. But I can't just... walk away from these things if I can do something to change them for the better. I just... I need help. I... I hope Helev will agree."

"I get the feeling she'll do anything to help you," Mona replied softly, stroking her lover's hair tenderly. "You have far more allies than are on the Hera, you know. When we finally retire from Starfleet many... many... many... years from now... We'll have a nice home to go to with the Artans."

"Indeed..." Mnhei'sahe said with a light sigh, her mind still running over everything vying for attention in her consciousness and doing her best to instead focus on the thrumming from her mate and their children, "...once I get them to redecorate in here."

Open at funeral
- Minor dialog from young preacher about taking over for both Duncan and Father yadda yadda
- Condolences from friends and family, Starfleet presence noted

Flashback 1 - Enalia arrives at Duncan's
- Fast investigation with Fiona, Jaeih, and 2 Klingons
- uncovers so much more

Flashback 2 - Rita Arrives at the Church
- Discovery of what? with Rita, Ethel, and Sonak

Flashback 3 - Old times at the Winchester Pub
- Briaar and Fiona have a few drinks at the pub
- Jaeih and Az'Prel shadow them to make sure they're safe
- Good thing because a few old timers are unhappy

Back at the funeral
______________________

Dee’s Ideas for review:
ACT 1:
- Open at Angus’ grave with a description of the traditional Irish ceremony for his burial that was ignored in favor of a rushed cremation to potentially remove evidence before the Hera arrived. Fiona, Briaar and (Minnie?) at the grave marker

- Flashback 1: On the Hera.
Enalia talking with Fiona and Briaar about the report she’s acting on from Starfleet about Duncan. Says there will be two investigations. An official one carried out by her and Rita and the Security Sisters and a SECOND more covert investigation by Jaeih and Az’Prel
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ACT 2:
- At the Church, Fiona and Family, maybe Rita or Enalia too to meet with some town rep (NOT Duncan) to discuss that Angus DID leave a will that Duncan has ordered sealed as he’s in charge now.

- Flashback 2: The Hera arrives and the runabout lands to a town very torn to see Fiona back, but not everyone is upset, and a few locals come to greet her warmly.

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ACT 3: Enalia arrives at Duncan’s for the official meeting and open investigation while Jaeih and Az’Prel begin digging in the BK. Rita and Sonak are questioning locals.

- Flashback 3: Fiona and Briaar go to the pub for stories, drinks and shenanigans. To share good memories and maybe start a barfight. Meanwhile, Minnie is with a sitter. ((Maybe Kodria with a mobile emitter) And her tiny Minotaur Labrynth powwrs detect SOMETHING of Grandpa (She bonded with him that once) and discovers secret passages in the old house that lead to, maybe the will and maybe the evidence. Kodi goes to get Jaeih and Az’Prel who were watching over the girls at the bar.

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ACT 4: Everything comes together. Jaeih and Az’Prel collect their evidence with the Will and determine the truth (Whatever that is).