It was late on board the ARW Golden Ghost, and Lieutenant Commander Mnhei'sahe Dox wasn't even going to try to sleep yet. In part, this was due to the anxiety the ship’s similarities to the Romulan Warbird she had spent a month in as a prisoner, but tonight it was because she had business she needed to attend to.

As the young, red-headed Starfleet Romulan walked the corridors of the refurbished T'liss class Bird of Prey, every crew member she passed saluted her and it was far past making her uncomfortable. In truth, she hated it. But the Golden Ghost was, in point of fact, her ship as an Artan Baroness.

The crew of former Romulan refugees had sworn their loyalty to the Starfleet pilot who, as a child with her mother, was a smuggler that was responsible for helping free many of the crew members of the Ghost. And those that were younger and were liberated after she had stopped smuggling as a teenager, had been told many a story about her exploits as a child. It made Dox something on an unexpected hero to many aboard the ship and she was tremendously uncomfortable with that level of attention.

While Dox would be remarkably happy to ignore all of this, she didn't quite know how to turn her back on a responsibility, often to her own detriment. And tonight, she had a responsibility she had been putting off. A topic she needed to talk about with the ship’s direct Commander, Doctor Helev t'Liun.

She had meant to do so over dinner, but found enough opportunities to avoid it thanks to plenty of company and friends and distractions. The galley of the Ghost had prepared a dinner of traditional Romulan dishes. Kali Fal and lehe'jhme wine relaxed even the anxious young pilot. Jumbo Romulan mollusk and eggs were served with a dessert of Osal twists. Mona Gonadie was tickled by just how close her own cooking was in her attempts at handling her wife's cultural dishes, and the Goddess Hera enjoyed the lehe'jhme wine considerably. It was a fine evening and Dox had decided not to sully it with business.

Which was the excuse she told herself to avoid the topic. But that time was past, as she arrived at Helev t'Liun's office in the rear of sickbay.

That was where the inscrutable Romulan woman chose to command from. She was, in point of fact, the Golden Ghosts functional Commander, though she hated being called that. She had been using the Commander's quarters as a storage room before the Ghost was assigned to Dox's barony, choosing to live in the smaller quarters behind her office. That was how she liked it, and Mnhei'sahe was there to complicate that.

Straightening her crimson Starfleet tunic, she cleared her throat and tapped on the metal doorframe. From the back chamber where t'Liun had her personal quarters, came the flat-toned voice. "Enter."

Stepping inside, Mnhei'sahe noticed that t'Liun's generally messy desk was clear, except for a three-sided Zhamaq board and a stack of triangle-shaped, tea-stained Pixmit cards. Coming from the quarters, t'Liun was fastening her own gray tunic as she bowed to her Baroness. "Commander, I am honored by your presence and your request to speak with me. I hope all is well. Can I get you a drink?"

Nodding with her arms folded behind her back, Mnhei'sahe nodded. "Please, and we are both off duty. 'Mnhei'sahe' is fine."

"Very well, then I insist you return the pleasantry. Would you like a Kali-Fal? I have a quite lovely blend of fvhubh tea?"

“Uh… tea, please. I… have had enough to drink at dinner. Thank you, Daa… Helev.” Mnhei’sahe said nervously. As she did, t’Liun stepped over with two cups of replicated tea, placing one on the table in front of the Starfleet officer and taking a sip of her own.

“Have you ever played lyrr-t'ddreen?” t’Liun asked, eyebrow lightly raised as she gestured down to the gameboard and cards below as Dox looked at the familiar game.

“Lyrr-t'ddreen? No... not… not since I was a child with some of the refugees on our ship. I… was never any good, though.” Mnhei’sahe replied, taking a sip. “Besides, I… wanted to talk to you about something. Something… important.”

“I know, Mnhei’sahe. Please, have a seat. It’s a simple enough game and we can play and talk. Besides, it seems you could use the distraction.” t’Liun said as she sat down at the board, pulling out a small box with a series of small, triangular-shaped pieces. Nine black ones, nine orange ones and nine cream-colored ones. She handed the box across to Dox and sipped her cup. “Unlike a standard game of Zhamaq, which requires three, one only needs two to play lyrr-t'ddreen. Choose your army.”

Looking at the pieces, Mnhei’sahe took out the black pieces and set them in the slots on the board in front of her. “That’s… an interesting choice of words, Helev. That’s part of what I wanted to talk to you about, actually.”

Across the table, t’Liun took the cream-colored pieces and placed them on the board. Afterward, she picked up the deck of triangular cards and dealt Mnhei’sahe a hand and one for herself. As she looked over her hand, the doctors curled her lips into a light smile. “Yes, I thought as much. Baroness Sarkia has taken on the responsibility of a large number of the ships left behind after the former queen’s fall. Crews that have been shown to be innocent of wrongdoings once their captains, loyal to our former queen, have been removed. Ships that are now… rudderless.”

“Ships and crews that I… have agreed to help Baroness Sarika with. She needed help in vetting the crews and finding a way to place the ships. Some, under my… own barony.” Mnhei’sahe said, looking over her cards and running through her head to remember what each of the elaborate illustrations on the cards actually meant. Some of it was coming back to her, but for the most part she was struggling.

“Which… falls outside the rules that separate you and our Queen from actively serving in the fleet while you are still in Starfleet.” t’Liun said, cricking an eyebrow as she laid down three cards and waited to see how Mnhei’sahe replied.

“Tell me, Mnhei’sahe. I’m not wrong that I do not think this conversation is going to be about you telling me you plan to leave Starfleet to claim the full authority you could as a Baroness?” the short-haired Romulan doctor added.

Letting out a sigh as she looked at the cards doctor t’Liun laid down, Mnhei’sahe rolled her eyes slightly. The rules were slowly but surely coming back to her as she laid down a single card from her hand, a penalty required to match the cards t’Liun put down as the taller, leaner woman… maybe 10 years Mnhei’sahe’s elder… moved one of her pieces three spaces on the board. The cards had elaborate illustrations and patterns in the middle, with Romulan glyphs on each side. When laid out together, some cards could make specific patterns that all had values attached to them in the game. And t’Liun’s pattern was a strong one.

“No, I am not.” Mnhei’sahe replied. As usual, when speaking with other Romulans, even in federation standard, her speech patterns became just a bit more formal. And artifact of her somewhat military-style upbringing that lingered with her to this day. “I have… a lot on my proverbial plate at the moment, as you know better than most. My grandmother’s continued pressure to assume a more active role in the politics of Romulus, for example.”

“Romulus?” t’Liun added, tilting her head slightly. “If I may be so bold, did you not dislike the human words for our world and our people. When you were here before, It was always ‘ch’Rihan’ and ‘Rihannsu’?”

Laying down two of her own cards, a weaker pattern than t’Liun’s move, Mnhei’sahe moved a single piece two spaces on the board and drew two new cards while t’Liun replaced her own three cards. “I… serve on a Starfleet ship. A ship with people that find it somewhat… confusing and off-putting. They are… familiar with ‘Romulans’ and ‘Romulus’.”

It was clear that the subject was one that Mnhei’sahe was uncomfortable talking about, but t’Liun simply listened and played her own hand, laying down only a single card now and moving a single space while her baroness continued. “It was becoming… problematic, I feel. So… in the interest of not causing any problems… I’m working to… get over my discomfort.”

“If it’s not overstepping my bounds, you seem to need to work harder. There was a certain degree of… venom on your tongue when you said the word.” t’Liun said with a light grin barely visible on her face. “Probably not enough for a human to pick up on, but to these ears, clear as an uncloaked ship.”

As t’Liun spoke, Mnhei’sahe made her next move, this time putting down only one of her new cards, but next to the pattern of three t’Liun had laid down previously, making a larger pattern. This gave the doctor a moment to smile a bit broader. “An excellent move, Mnhei’sahe. The board is yours.”

Taking three fresh cards from the pile, Mnhei’sahe moved two of her pieces three spaces each, leaving her three pieces on the board to t’Liun’s one. As she did, the doctor continued to speak. “I noticed Lieutenant Gonadie says ‘Rihannsu’. She is… aware of your discomfort and respects it?”

“She is and she does. We share an… empathic and telepathic bond. That combined with her ability to visually see if someone is emotionally distressed or lying means no real secrets.” Mnhei’sahe replied. “Which is as I prefer it. I find our people’s predilection towards subterfuge a problem I prefer to avoid in my life.”

Listening, t’Liun laid down another single card and made another single move with her single piece on the board. To win the game, a player was required to get at least one piece into each of the three levels that surrounded the center level, surrounding it. “That is a noble aspiration. You are a woman who clearly prefers to deal in the truth, which can serve you in Starfleet. But you’re hardly a Qowat Milat nun either. And if you wish to not be eaten alive dealing with your Senator Grandmother, absolute candor would not serve you well. There OR here, with the Artans, which brings us back to the topic we were discussing.”

“If you are not planning on taking on a more… direct role as a baroness… and you are talking to me… why do I feel I will not like the direction this is heading?” t’Liun said as Mnhei’sahe laid down two more cards in a pattern that built upon the first card she laid down. As she did so, she pulled two new cards and moved two of her pieces a single space on the board, towards two of the three risers.

Raising her eyebrow and looking genuinely surprised, t’Liun shook her head lightly as Mnhei’sahe replied. “You are… very likely right. I… need your help, Helev. To do what I am planning on, I need someone here that I trust, and I trust you and the crew of this ship. I have… a plan. A way to help the Artan ships that have become leaderless and possibly help us in our other cause. The cause I’ve been working towards since I was a child.”

“Reunification?” t’Liun said, a curious tone to her voice.

“Indeed. It was the overarching drive that led my mother and I to do the work we did getting people off of Rom… off of ch’Rihan. And I find myself in a unique position now as a woman having… some degree of authority and an actual voice in the Rihannsu senate. My grandmothers voice, but I have her ear and I believe she wants this as well. I was in her mind the same as I was once in yours. And… perhaps it is naive of me… but I believe in this purpose.” Mnhei’sahe said as t’Liun made her move, another single card and another single move on the board.

“Naive or not, it is a belief I and most aboard this vessel share and have worked towards. This you are well aware of, as we have made supply runs to Mol Krun’chi and similar, hidden colony worlds for years. We have done all a single ship can do to aid in the cause of… ahhh, I see.” t’Liun said as Mnhei’sahe continued to build her cards into a larger pattern, moving even more pieces on the board and getting those pieces closer to the platforms.

“With those ships… currently without Commanders or purpose… it might be possible to move more resources towards the colonies. A small fleet serving the goal of Reunification. But they need a flagship and Commanders that both of us trust to guide them properly. That is where I need you, Helev.” Mnhei’sahe replied as the two continued to play.

“I… wish to name you my second. Give you the direct authority to act on my behalf within the Artan organization. And from there, pick key officers from the Ghost that you trust to promote to Commanders of their own and pair them with some of these other ships. Perhaps just a few at first to test the waters. That was, a supply chain can be established throughout the sector. Straight into the Eisn system.” Mnhei’sahe continued, referring to the local system of Romulus and it’s homestar, Eisn.

“Ugh…” t’Liun groaned as she looked over the cards in her hand. “I already am not fond of having command of a single ship, Mnhei’sahe. I’m a DOCTOR, not a Baronesses second. Not a fleet commander. I only have this position because Baroness Nei'rrh trusted me more than I had earned. Now you want to magnify those responsibilities upon me?”

“I… I would not ask if I didn’t trust you as well, Helev. I trust you, Mona trusts you. I think even Commander Paris trusts you. You are an honorable woman, Helev. You are a true Rihannsu.” Mnhie’sahe said, a serious expression on her face. “I believe you are the right woman for this, partly because you don’t want it. But you know the good we could do this way for our people. And the good a union between the Rihannsu and the Vulcans could do for the entire galaxy.”

“Your plan is… interesting, Mnhei’sahe. And not without merit. But there are a great many factors that can be in play here without your notice. And those factors, no matter how small, could destroy all you would sacrifice for.” t’Liun said.

“I know this, Helev. I do. I know that I’m out of my depth here. I’m… I’m a pilot who suddenly finds herself a commander and a section chief on the Hera. I’m a Baroness with a ship sworn to her because of people I helped when I was a child. I’m a representative of a government I grew up fearing on a planet I’ve only stepped foot on once that would… consume me given less than half a chance. And now, I’m about to be a mother. I… I can’t do all of these things by myself. I need help. I need… I need your help.”

There was a heavy pause in the air as t’Liun looked at her cards. Then, as she gave her reply, she began to set down her single cards, one at a time, LINKING each of the separate patterns that Mnhei’sahe had been building. Creating a single, massive pattern of cards that created a single image. As she did, Mnhei’sahe’s eyes went wide as she had not seen the pattern SHE had been building that t’Liun just linked together with only a handful of her own cards. “I know your story, Mnhei’sahe. You have earned that name you were burdened with twice over now. You are a woman of tremendous honor. And tremendous honor often leaves you open to those that can see the holes in your defenses that you leave open. That is the ROMULAN way.”

As she spoke, she reached over and, one by one, replaced each of the pieces Dox had placed on the board with pieces of her own color. Suddenly now having pieces only a single move away from each platform. With only three more moves, she would win the board by having waited for Mnhei’sahe to build up the board and simply turn her pieces in one move. It was truly a Romulan game at its heart. After all, in their native language, ‘lyrr-t'ddreen’ meant ‘Concealed Truth’.

“The Romulan way… but NOT the Rihannsu way. And I would not have you become a Romulan when you make a much better Rihannsu, Mnhei’sahe.” t’Liun said, taking a drink of her tea and placing her cards down on the table. “The game is not over. Let us play again someday, when I have built toward your goal. Ensured that none of these other ships have crewmembers upon them that would turn your ships into your enemy's ships. Though I do not want it, I accept your request, my Baroness. I shall be your second. Your voice here among the Artans. I will do this because you would not have asked if you didn’t have a strong need. And because, while you are young and you are trusting, I would see you remain trusting, trusting me to be the Romulan you need here. To see the angles you haven’t learned to look for yet.”

“Learn the game, Mnhei’sahe. THAT is how you will be what our people need you to be.” t’Liun said, bowing her head while Mnhei’sahe returned the bow.

“I will. Thank you, Helev.”

The Artan Bird of Prey called ‘The Golden Ghost’ settled into a wide orbit of the planet Miradon as, from its hold, the smaller J-Type freighter called the Khallianen launched into space towards the emerald and teal planet below.

On the relatively small ship was a proportionately large entourage consisting of the ship’s pilot and owner, Lieutenant Commander Mnhei’sahe Dox and her very pregnant wife, the Miradonian pilot, and inventor, Mona Gonadie. Sitting along the bench seats on both sides of the body of the ship was the commander of the Golden Ghost, the stern-faced Romulan doctor with short-cropped brown hair, Helev t’Liun. On either side of the women in the gray uniform were two other blank-faced Vulcanoid women, also in gray. On t’Liun’s left, Mnhei’sahe’s mother, Jaeih Dox. On her right, the Vulcan refugee from a collapsed reality, Az’Prel.

Across the hold, was a strikingly beautiful woman in a flowing, white robe with a warm smile on her face. On either side of her, the Goddess known as Hera, was the mountain of two-meter tall muscle known as Petty Officer Ethel Jablonski. And on the other side, the shorter, but just as wide and toned Petty Officer Liu.

Sitting in the larger and much more comfortable co-pilot’s seat, Mona Gonadie was rubbing her belly and wearing a pink and green pastel pregnancy jumper. In the pilot’s seat, finally out of her crimson Starfleet uniform, Mnhei’sahe was wearing a pair of green cargo pants, her favorite hiking boots, a black top and her favorite green denim jacket, her Starfleet badge on her chest and her red hair pulled back into a short ponytail. As they approached the medium-sized, class M planet that was the ancestral home of Mona Gonadie’s avian people, Mnhei’sahe flipped the comm panel above her at the cockpit. “Miradonian flight control. This is the Artan Cruiser Khallianen. Call number Nine, nine, x, seven, c, five, dash x, x, eight, three, delta, delta, six. Requesting clearance to land at the Quen'Quen spaceport.”

There was a brief pause as the comms picked up and in the background could be heard the sound of a multitude of squawks and bawks which were presumably Miradonian in nature. "Artan Ruiser Call-ann-en, cleared landing, C99 Oh 4 padd. Safe trip no hunters, proceed customs three three gate."

The traffic controller was obviously doing his best at not using the UT, but wasn't the most fluent at Federation Standard so Mona clicked her comms on as well, this time speaking in a form of Miradonian that sounded like a smooth and calm bird of the sky. "This is Mona Gonadie, copilot of the Khalliannen. Please repeat your last, control. We did not copy."

Almost with a sigh of relief, the controller switched to the same dialect and repeated his message. "Khalliannen, you are cleared for landing at padd see niner niner zero four. Please proceed to customs gate thirty three. We expect fewer hunters in system than usual this year thanks to volunteer patrols so please fell free to relax, have a safe trip, and enjoy your stay at the Aeries."

"Thank you control, We look forward to bringing our daughters into the universe under the eyes of the Goddesses. Khalliannen out." With a grin, Mona closed the channel and sent the nav beacon coordinates to her bond-mate. "We should be on the ground in 3 or 4 minutes unless we hit traffic."

"Under the eyes of a few goddesses. We should be well and truly covered in that regard, Jhu Dhael." Mnhei'sahe said as she spared a long smile for Mona as she punched in the coordinates and looked out the front windscreen as the small craft entered into the atmosphere. And as she did, the ship opened up into the vista of the skies of Mona's homeworld.
Around them, the blackness of space was slowly replaced by the deep teal of the sky that reflected against the fluffy, white, thick clouds as they passed through them over the rolling hillsides dozens of kilometers below.

Much of the land around the world's capital city of Quen'Quen was rural and farming area, filled with fields of iridescent crops and large round and curved houses. Even in the small cities, you could see the circular design to the streets and buildings. It was as if the culture refused to build anything with an edge.

As the small vessel closed in on the spaceport, the capital city hove into view, the spiraling skyscrapers looking more squat and rotund, yet far more avian than expected, with wing-like bridges spanning the gaps between most of them. Balconies jutted out further than seemed appropriate or even logical, seemingly tempting gravity.

As for the spaceport itself, it was obviously designed with the aid of offworlders as it was a mix of the Miradonian circular logic as well as the unmistakable triangle from the IDIC symbol at several points. Each docking bay was inside of a large ring of a building and on one side of this building, there was a large triangular attachment covered in tinted windows. What appeared to be a monorail system ran between six of these structures and another conical building covered in clear windows.

Mona pointed to one of the IDIC styled buildings. "There - our docking bay is in that one. Once we get situated and go through decon, we'll take a tram to customs at the conical building there." She then pointed to a third set of structures that looked more like a concrete ball of yarn. "And then we'll be released to find transportation. Either a rental or a taxi or... Well, flying is out since none of you have wings and I've been way too heavy since I was three."

With a glance over at her lover, Mona looked a bit sheepish. "What? I've always been a bit chubby."

In the back, Hera was grinning as she looked around the cabin, obviously picking up on the energies that had been absorbed by those there. She poked Ethel with an elbow to get her attention and looked up at the mountainous woman with a glimmer in her eye. "Do you find it interesting how that side of the shuttle has absorbed the motherly side of my aura and this side has absorbed the amazonian side?"

"Aw, well, never to correct ya Hera, but I figure Amazons come in all shapes, sizes and skillsets. Me an' Liu, we sure are different, but fer sure we're both Amazons. They are too. It''s just that not every Amazon's a soldier, I figure." Though it was simplistically stated, the implication of Jablonski's interpretation of the goddess' aura was perhaps not so different from those whom had become perhaps more maternal, although it may have been that observation was tainted by the true believer's perception.

Across the hold of the ship, the elder Romulan cricked her eyebrow and curled her lips slightly, looking as if she had just smelled something particularly foul. During her time working in the Hera's Intel Pod, she had done her most basic due diligence regarding what was unclassified regarding the goddess Hera, but in truth she had not gone digging as deep as she normally did. She knew that all the women that guarded the door two down from her own had all grown in some way physically during that time.

None quite as much as Ethel, who Jaeih notes spent the most time at Hera's side. It wasn't enough to form a logical deduction as she knew that correlation did not equate to causation, but it was curious enough. But, in a somewhat uncharacteristic decision, the trained former Tal'Shiar operative didn't choose to dig any deeper into the mysterious woman believed to be a goddess.

But now, it seemed that she, and possibly her bond-sister Az'Prel, were the subject of a conversation that was too interesting for her to overlook. "Padron me, but what are you two talking about? What do you mean regarding 'Amazons'? What... aura?"

As Hera looked expectantly at Jablonski, the big petty officer held up her hands in surrender. "Nuh uh, I'm not the priestess. I got no idea how alla this metaphysical stuff works, I'm just the physical one, 'no touchie', that's it. This answer's all up to you, great Hera."

The matronly goddess held up her hands in surrender and decided to give the short explanation. "As an Ambrisian and near-immortal being, I have an aura that grants certain gifts related to my domains. Those being generally women, marriage, birth, the heavens, and a few other minor things. They manifest in motherly aspects and Amazonian strength for most people."

Hera then motioned towards Ethel. "Ethel here has wholeheartedly accepted my aura's protector aspect and has become the defacto General of my absentee army. Rita has become my mortal daughter and in a way, my priestess, thus guiding my own path as well. As for you... I can see no one in recent history that has accepted more of the motherly aspect of my aura. It has likely brought out in you your innermost maternal side."

She then held up a finger, one eye closing as she peered at Jaeih over the tip of that finger. "However, know this... The decisions you have made would have been the same... It would have just taken you far longer to come to them otherwise, much to the detriment of those around you. Do what you will with that knowledge."

Listening, Jaeih crossed her legs and folded her arms across her knees as she narrowed her eyes ever so slightly. And while she was doing her best to keep her expression neutral, it was clear she did not like what she was hearing. "The... motherly aspects of your aura? I have been... 'accepting' this? For how long has this been occurring?"

Glancing towards the cockpit, the elder Romulan took a breath as her jaw clenched. "And... Commander Paris has become... your Daughter? You will have to forgive my... ignorance. She asked you to accompany us, correct? Why?"

Hera could tell from the body language from the older two pointy-eared folk across from her that they were now on the defensive and she was fighting an uphill battle. The Vulcan woman, it was hard to tell, but the Rihannsu... It was plain to see she wasn't going to accept the normal goddess mumbo-jumbo.

Rather, the elder woman folded her hands in her lap and matched skepticism with complete honesty. "In my weakened state, the range of my aura extends to roughly an eighth of a light-year. I assume you made a decision prior to entering within that distance that enabled you to absorb the specific aspect... Or energy band, if you prefer... Of my aura. As a semi-cosmic entity, it's not something I can prevent or disable, it's more of a reflex or autonomic function similar to your lymphatic system. As Commander Paris has found a way of redeeming me and guided me to become a better person, my aura has done the same for those that have desired to do so in their own lives within its range."

The mention of Commander Paris having 'redeemed' Hera has struck a chord with Jaeih, and she leaned back slightly, listening a bit more than before as a result.

"As for why Commander Paris asked me to accompany you on this family outing, I believe one of her catchphrases was 'stacking the deck in our favor.' If I'm not mistaken, every family outing and trip that Commander Dox has taken has resulted in disaster, thus she's ensured every escort available is within reach." Hera paused a moment to motion around her. "A cloaked starship as an escort, pirate patrols secretly nearby, the two of you, two of the finest Starfleet Security has to offer, and the literal Goddess of Childbirth to watch over the proceedings with her blessing."

She then leaned forward, the lights in the cabin seemingly dimming as she did so. "And those blessings I will give quite liberally in order to make sure all three of your grandchildren are born without issue... Of that, I assure you..." She then leaned back with a cheerful smile, the cabin lighting returning to normal.

If the slight display was meant to have an impact on Jaeih, it didn't show on the Romulan woman's face, whose eyes never wavered from their lock on Hera's as she replied. "Miss Jablonski. You would vouch for this all? And that Commander Paris trusts her? And you trust her?"

There was a slight frown that creased the perennially cheerful giantess’ face, but she nodded. “Ma’am, I don’t know all of it. I admitted that upfront, so I can’t claim it’s true, because I don’t know. I know I grew half a meter taller and a whole lot wider since serving as Hera’s honor guard. I know the Commander said that we were to treat her not as a prisoner, but as an honored guest, and the Commander does NOT screw around when it comes to the safety of the ship, yannow?” Jablonski spread her big hands, each nearly large enough to encompass Jaeih’s ribcage should she try.

“What I can say is Hera’s been nothing but good to Security. I believe in her, but… I mean, I believe in her, so I’m not even close to impartial, so I dunno if I am a good one to ask for that either. But… I believe in her because she’s real,” Jablonski stated simply, the big farm girl struggling to put her feelings into words. “She cares… about all of us Security gals. She takes an interest in our lives, in how we’re doing. She got me calling my folks once a week, just so’s they won’t worry. Hera doesn’t have an agenda ma’am. She just tries to help, to brighten up our lives, to listen when we need someone, to be there for us… kind of like… well, like a mom.”

There was a moment of uncomfortable silence in the cabin as Jaeih stared across at the three women. Then, she simply stood up from her seat and straightened her gray top and started towards the rear of the cabin. "If you will excuse me, I must use the refresher."

Sitting next to where Jaeih had just been, Doctor t'Liun of the Golden Ghost seemed imminently confused as she raised an eyebrow.

From the cockpit, Mnhei'sahe's voice came over the comm, "We are coming in for a landing and will be disembarking in a few moments.", to which t'Liun whispered in a lightly tense tone, "Thank the Elements."

Under the deep, teal skies of mid-day on Miradon, the Khallianen circled in to the designated landing platform in the IDIC shaped building and gently sat down in the large, circular platform beneath a half-domed ceiling. On the edge of the slightly elevated platform was a lift to a walking path that led to the interior of the landing complex. Clearly, the avian people took great pride in their flight facilities.

As Mnhei'sahe began the ship's power-down sequence, she gestured with her head to Mona, who was sitting next to the console of the cockpit that housed the ship's lockdown controls for security. Then, with a smile, the red-headed Romulan stood up and took her bond-mate's hands and nodded. "We're here. I've wanted to see this place for so long."

As Mona leaned back and sighed heavily, she rolled her head and stared lovingly at her bond-mate. "And now we get to explain to customs why we have such a large entourage. Thankfully, everyone is pre-registered through the Federation Embassy and not on the banned races list."

The brightly plumed Avian then got a gleam in her eyes. "You know... As soon as we're out of customs and into the city we're going to have to visit a Haw-Kaws... It's a bean drink shop similar to coffee. You can get it either super bitter or super sweet. You brought some latinum, right? The local economy still uses money so we'll have to get some exchanged."

"Regarding the size of our group... the explanation should likely be something less concerning than 'people try kidnapping or killing me on my vacations' I would imagine. Still, my status' as a Starfleet Officer and an Artan Baroness should make it easier to explain the extra personal security we've got." Mnhei'sahe said with an awkward nod as she helped Mona slowly pull herself to her feet. 

"As for latinum, we should be fine. I... still have a... halfway decent account from my smuggling days that I keep for just such an occasion. While we were on our way, I transferred some to a Miradonian bank and got us pre-loaded cards." Mnhei'sahe smirked lightly, pulling out a few Miradonian currency cards from her jacket pocket, just a little nervous about the fact that she did actually still have her fair share of actual money for trips like this that didn't require the use of Federation Credits.

"I am so glad you think of the things I never do," Mona replied as she hefted herself out of the co-pilot's chair with considerably less difficult than before, followed by a backstretch and several pops. "Oh yeah... I missed the gravity here. What the rest of the galaxy calls one gee, we call too much. Compared to Starfleet ship standards, we're now at point eight three."

"We'll have to be sure to update Ethel, in particular. Considering how strong she is, she'll have even less resistance to whatever she does." Mnhei'sahe said with a smile as she and Mona headed to the back to disembark. In the back, the others were sitting awkwardly as Jaeih came out of the back with a neutral expression on her face. 

"Shall we disembark, then? Shall I unlock the hoverchair for you, Mona?" Jaeih said flatly.

She could see that something was off, but her Miradonian eyes could only see what was there, not what had happened or what anyone was thinking. Thus, with a quizzical glance around, Mona nodded. "Aye, nona, thank you. The gravity is a bit less here so watch your strength. That being said, I'll still need the hoverchair." Rather than using Jaeih's name, she had used the Miradonian word for mother for some reason - perhaps by instinct, perhaps by nostalgia for finally being back on her homeworld.

Tensing up at the word that Jaeih knew well, having studied Mona's native tongue considerably, the elder Romulan nodded. "Excellent. I shall attend to that for you, then." Turning to the read hold, Jaeih unlatched the relatively small contraption that Ensign Briaar Gavarus had designed and built for the pregnant Miradonian. But it was that word that rattled in her brain: Nona. Mother.

Thinking on it, she cared deeply for Mona. She legitimately thought of the woman as her own. And while she didn't like the word, she knew in her heart that she loved her. She loved Mona. She loved Mnhei'sahe. She loved those yet unborn children. But now she had questions. And she didn't like those questions. She didn't like questioning herself, but for now, she would keep that to herself as she turned the power on and the compact but comfy looking device unfolded into a seat with a searing column and basket in the front.

Hovering, Jaeih pushed the chair over to Mona, with a more relaxed expression. It was easy with Mona and Mnhei'sahe in the room to forget that she was upset for the moment. "Here you are, my dear."

"Thank you," Mona replied as she settled into the chair, feeling the cushions adjusting to her. "I probably should have mentioned this earlier, but customs and immigration won't allow anything resembling a weapon in and they're pretty thorough on inspections. Since we're Federation and all they should be a bit more lenient, but..." She sighed heavily as she motioned towards the hatch. "You'll see what I mean. First up though is the medical screening."

As the hatch lowered and the planet's air rushed in with a strange mix of shuttle fumes and exotic floral scents, they were greeted by three decidedly skinny Miradonians in white and neon blue medical styled uniforms, complete with lab coats. The one with the largest and shiniest name badge stepped forward with one hand raised in greeting. "Welcome to Miradon! We'll be conducting your health and safety screening today. In the name of the Goddesses, we greet you!" Though he spoke in his native tongue, he spoke clearly enough for the UT to keep up and translate it without any issues.

"We have been notified by the Federation Embassy of your arrival and have prepared as best we could for your unique biological signatures and contagions. If you could step over to the unintelligible zone with any luggage and items you may have, we may begin." He then motioned towards a hatch marked pattern etched into the concrete of the floor and waited for everyone to disembark.

"I do so love unintelligible," Mona quietly confided to Jaeih with a grin. "I think it's one of my favorite colors in the unintelligible color spectrum."

"I will have to take your word for it, my dear." Jaeih said with a light smirk in spite of herself as she looked towards the etched area marked with a color she couldn't see. "Perhaps one day you will be able to describe it to me."

Looking at Mona, Jaeih noticed the telltale flutter of her daughter-in-law's amber eyes as her people's unique eyes processed a range of colors invisible to the rest of them and she had a thought. But it would be a subject for later as she grabbed her bag and headed to the so-called "unintelligible zone" along with the rest of the group and their bags.

As the crew filed over to the marked zone the three Miradonian physicians each pulled out a scanner and a datapad, directing each crewmember to stand separate from the others and turn around slowly while they held the scanner up to their eyes and looked the person over, head to toe before tapping something on their datapad. The crewmember was then directed to stand just to the side where the hatch marks were slightly different, no doubt in a slightly different color only visible to Miradonians.

When they got to Mona, they directed her to stand and to also turn, but they took extra care when scanning her, all three of them looking her over and asking her several rapid-fire questions that the UT couldn't quite pick up. Mona answered with yes and no to almost all of them, but pointed to Dox to one of them, presumedly when they asked who the other parent was.

After that, all three of them made notes, thrummed rhythmically to each other in a huddle, and proceeded to the last trio to be scanned. Ethel, Liu, and Hera.

While the two lesser ranked physicians handled the two Amazonian women, the third walked up to Hera and bowed slightly. "We greet you as a Devout of the Goddess Minay. Your aura is telling, is it not? I must ask why you accompany this woman." It was obvious that they had recognized her as more than what she seemed, at the very least.

The matronly goddess returned the bow and offered an explanation as politely as she could. "I am Ambrosian, a goddess of women, marriage, and childbirth. In my twilight my power wanes, however there is still work to be done." She then motioned towards Mona and Dox who were in the 'safe' zone. "These unborn have an important role to play in the future of the galaxy and I would see them blessed in what manner I am able. I ask for no special treatment during my visit."

The physician nodded, a scowl crossing his face. "I can not clear you medically with your aura so bright, yet I do not want to stand in the way of the holy..."

"Perhaps I may be of some assistance in this matter." Doctor t'Liun stepped forward, pulling a PaDD from her pocket. "My medical credentials, fully approved by the Miradon Ministry of Health and Welfare. I am also validated to practice medicine my the Artan ruling council in two quadrants, and by Starfleet."

The Miradonian physician took the padd to study it while Helev continued. "I have reviewed the medical files of all of us, taking special interest in Hera's unique biology and this aura you speak of. It has been determined medically by myself and Starfleet medical to have no measurable or observable negative effects, either physically or psychologically."

As she spoke, Jaeih stiffened up just a little as she listened and this time, both Mona and Mnhei'sahe noticed it.

Glancing slightly at her mother with a raised eyebrow for an instant, Mnhei'sahe stepped forward and introduced herself, adding in her Miradonian married name into the mix to hopefully smooth the encounter out. "Pardon me. I am Lieutenant Commander Mnhei'sahe t'Sendatu-onay Dox. I am Lieutenant Gonadie's bond-mate and I may be able to assist here."

Mentioning the middle name, which meant 'mended wings' in Miradonian seemed to at least register as the officials seemed to pay a bit more attention as Dox spoke. "In anticipation of this being an issue, Commander Rita Paris and Captain Enalia Telvan of the U.S.S. Hera, our vessel, have provided the following equipment." Handing a small medical shoulder bag she brought out of the ship over to them for study, Dox continued. "It is a portable frequency field blocker. It will reduce the range of Hera's aura and, according to Lieutenant Gonadie, even considerably dims the visual effect of that aura to normal levels. Will this satisfy your concerns and please the Moon Goddess's will?"

The three physicians huddled together and thrummed at each other for a few moments again, seemingly talking it over without actual words before splitting back apart and moving into action. "Your words are truth and we see the blessings of both Minay and Nicoo'la on you. We will accept your aid. Please administer the field blocker but know that as you have left the safe zone, we must scan you again."

Taking the returned bag, Dox activated it with a light hum and handed it to Petty Officer Liu to carry, as the security detachment would likely never be far from Hera's side. As she did, she stepped back into the designated zone to be re-scanned. "Of course, thank you."

As they watched the proceedings, there were a few small mutterings between them of 'Rihannsu', 'Vulcan', t'Sendatu'onay, and Minay. Occasionally, they would make notes and glance through one of their scanners, adjusting it somehow, but overall, they kept their council to themselves and, in some cases, only speaking half the words and seeming to complete the conversation among themselves in the same fashion that Mona's adoptive parents, Milla and Mardo Morafry, did when aboard the Hera last year.

Watching this, Mnhei'sahe made the connection, remembering that such communication was only between Miradonians that were bonded like the Morafry's or as she and Mona were, meaning that these three Miradonian physicians were a bonded group. The thought of that gave Mnhei'sahe a light smile as she squeezed Mona's hand while they waited.

The three physicians chattered back and forth in half sentences, each one scanning individually and poking at their datapads before all nodding together in sync, finally satisfied. They then performed cursory scanns of those that left the safe zone and turned to t'Luin. "Physician t'Luin, we turn over care off your party to you. May you walk in the Goddess's path and may Altha'donar light your way."

"Again, we welcome you to Miradon. You are all medically cleared for entry through customs. As soon as you leave this bay, you will choose a biocode option in order to quarantine and lock down this bay. If you need anything further from your vessel beyond that point, you will need clearance from port authorities in order to do so. Please enjoy your stay though the breeding season."

With that, the trio motioned towards the large double doors and allowed everyone to file out before Mona squawked something into the biocode reader, sealing the bay and pulling the key free, tucking it away in one of her pockets. "Ok, now we get on the tram and head to the main concourse." With a wave, the trio of physicians were off, presumably off to their next appointment as a tram arrived and the doors opened.

The group filed in and while there was plenty of seating, it was styled for Miradonian butts so it was all in the middle and there were no backrests. The entire top half was also transparent so you could see the entire sky. A voice came on and squawked something in almost a dozen different languages before the doors closed and the tram took off with a shudder - it obviously didn't have inertial dampeners. The trip was short and uneventful, the teal sky only having a smattering of white clouds scattered across it as several smaller ships flew in and out.

Soon the tram arrived at the main concourse and the party disembarked, easily finding the more visitor friendly colored lines on the floor pointing them in the direction of customs. Gate thirty three was one of the longer lines in a series set aside for incoming pregnant Miradonians and family, but it was in sight of most of the rest of Customs so they had a good view of something Mona expected.

Reaching up and tugging at Dox's arm, she pointed over at a Ferengi dressed in a heavy coat and wearing blackout glasses. "Keep an eye on him and watch what customs does. He's got holographics in place and his body language says he's lying without saying anything."

"I can see that from here, with only my old, Romulan eyes." Jaeih muttered lightly, leaning in towards Mnhei'sahe and Mona. As she did, Mnhei'sahe's eyes narrowed on the scene, taking it all in. She had telepathically shared in Mona's worst nightmares of exactly the kinds of horrors these hunters could inflict and, as the shared memories came will all of the emotional components, Mnhei'sahe had felt everything that Mona had felt in her childhood. The memories of those shared nightmares were still fresh to her in that moment.

As the line moved, a pair of security guards with a large cat-like animal in a work harness came up to the Ferengi and started asking him questions, making him defensive. As the Ferengi started waving his hands around, the working cat started growling, which triggered the two guards pulling out stun batons. This didn't sit well with the Ferengi who still tried to talk his way out of it until the cat jumped on him, disrupting the slight holographics overlay to reveal that the winter coat was actually a combat vest and that his features were quite scarred. His ruse obviously broken, he went to pull out a disruptor, but before it had cleared its holster, he'd been hit with the stun batons several times, knocking him to the floor.

"Hunter..." Mona muttered in disgust. "Probably thinking he can catch a newborn chick flying over the Aerie."

Looking over at the scene, Ethel Jablonski looked stunned and more than a little disgusted herself, "Now, just wait just a darn minute, here. Newborns? All this security is because these hunters come here to go after... newborns, Lieutenant Gonadie?"

"Yeah," Mona replied, her voice uncharacteristically flat. "A newborn chick can fetch several bars on the black market. That way you can raise it alive and feed it what you want and..." With a shudder, she left the rest unspoken and just rested her hands on her prodigious belly, staring down at herself with a scowl. "That's why the security... we used to have open borders and that's why we're struggling to maintain a population of three million..."

"They... sell 'em for... Oh, by Hera. This planet's a Federation affiliate! We should be doin' more t' help here, shouldn't we, don'cha think?" Ethel said, her own voice getting a bit more firm with resolve as the full implications of what Mona was leading to sunk in. 

"An independent Federation affiliate, yes. We have trade and commerce agreements, but no defense agreements unless it's an emergency. Sadly, while our flight, medical, food, and stealth technologies are highly advanced, we just hit warp eight tech and our weapons tech is far behind the galactic standard." With a heavy sigh, the brightly plumed avian did her best to cheer up. "Which is why I talked my way into Starfleet. To try to help make the galaxy a better place for my people and help everyone fly a little higher. With the caveat that I don't break the prime directive with anything I've learned with my own people, of course."

As Mona talked, Mnhei'sahe looked at Helev t'Liun, who only a day ago had accepted the red-headed Romulans request to take the lead as her second in the Artan fleet. The look was clear that while they wouldn't go into details then and there, that Mnhei'sahe would have Helev look into what the Artan fleet could do to help protect this world within the bounds of legality.

Not that the words needed to be said as Mnhei'sahe was holding her bond-mate's hand tight, thus ensuring that her thoughts were clearly sent across their telepathic bond. As such, Mnhei'sahe took a moment to smile down and give Mona's hand a squeeze. Across the space, the Ferengi had been contained and removed quickly and business resumed as usual.

The rest of the trip through customs and out through the vehicle structure was uneventful, thankfully. They were easily able to hire a transport large enough for all of them just on Federation credit and within minutes they had been whisked away to one of the largest hotels in Quen'Quen, the capital city of Miradon - a squat spiraling building with rainbow iridescent windows and balconies all the way up at least one hundred stories. Short for most planets, but here it was one of the largest on the planet.

And in the lobby was one of the Haw-Kaws drink shops that Mona had mentioned before - and they advertised in-room delivery.

Check-in was equally easy as they were expected. Mona had planned that out as well, ensuring that they all had their own rooms and she'd reserved an entire floor just in case. The down side was that it was the eighty ninth floor. It had nine suites several times larger than the VIP quarters aboard the Hera and since they were staying for at least two weeks, the reservation fees had wiped out what little she had in her Miradon Bank and Trust accounts.

Finally settled into their rooms, however... The view was breathtaking. The planet was slightly smaller than most, but the air was crystal clear so you could see all the way to the horizon with ease as the capital city spread out to give way to fields of crops and lightly wooded areas and even a few small lakes in the distance.

There was something first and foremost on Mona's mind though. Grabbing the menu on the dining table for Haw'Kaws, she punched up an order for a particularly bright and flashy 'Rainbow Surprise' drink as well as a pitch black bitter looking drink referred to as 'Altha'donar Double Dark'. It took about a minute for them to arrive, but both clear plastic cups with straws were beamed directly to the replicator pads in the center of the dining room table - Mona's bright, rainbow colored 'coffee' drink with ice and the other that she'd ordered for Dox sending out steam from the small vent hole.

"I hope you don't mind that I ordered you a drink," she said as she picked up both cups and brought them over to her bond-mate, offering her the hot, dark beverage.

In the bedroom of the expansive suite which, like most of the architecture in the region, was a series of circles connected by curves and arches, Mnhei'sahe was unpacking their bags into the dressers and closets that were built high into the walls themselves. It was easier than not in the slightly reduced gravity and the thickly built Romulan was appreciating the sensation as she replied. "Of course not. You generally know my tastes and you absolutely know the cuisine."

Walking out, Mnhei'sahe had tossed her jacket onto the bed and walked out to the table with Mona, hand in hand, at the edge of a large window that jutted out into space a little, a cross between a balcony and a particularly expansive ledge. But the window was open and the breeze that floated in was intoxicating. The air had a sweet smell, wafting in the scent of the cova fruit orchards on the edge of the city. In that, it oddly reminded the stout Romulan woman of the colony world where she had been born. She had never been on Miradon before, but thanks to her bond with Mona, the sights, sounds and smells all triggered a strange feeling of familiarity as she had within her the echos of her love's memories of the place. 

That piece of Mona, glowing like lavender within her soul that was a part of her forever.

On her arms, visible now without the jacket, were the ornately designed gold and black Asgardian bracers that Mnhei'sahe had been gifted. For while weapons were not allowed, the bracers had access to a pocket dimension that did contain a suit of Asgardian armor. The young Romulan took no chances with her wife's safety.

Sitting next to Mona in a large, bean bag like couch that faced the window, Dox took a sip of her drink and put her arm around her wife. "I... almost can't believe we're finally here. It's even more beautiful than it appears in your mind. Almost as beautiful as you."

"It's even more beautiful now that I've found you," Mona replied, leaning in for a kiss before sipping at her own drink. "I can't think of anything better than sharing a great drink with my bond-mate looking out over the skies of my homeworld." She then pointed out into that sky just as the twin moons shimmered into view, the smaller black moon closer to the planet and moving out from in front of the larger silver moon.

"And what perfect timing. Nicoo'la just finished the weekly eclipse with Minay. Today is the traditional day of rest, you know."

"We did not rest much today, did we?" Mnhei'sahe said, as she pulled Mona closer to her chest, the thrumming from her bond-mate amplified by the matching rhythms of their three children. "That said, it's interesting to finally see the real 'Minay' for myself."

"To my eyes, you resemble one another a great deal," Mona replied, sharing a bit of her sight through their bond so that as she looked from her lover with the purple and lingering trails of her original energy here and there at the edges to the sky with the two moons with a similar rainbow of purples and UVenergies streaming behind the planet's satellites, Dox could see a bit of what every native to the world could see just after the weekly eclipse. "They're this bright only for a few minutes, but you're bright all the time."

For just an instant, it was bizarre to see herself through Mona's eyes. The color of her own aura, the purple that was the combination of her original crimson with Mona's own blue seemed to ripple out of her, glowing with a brilliant radiance. And as Mona looked at the moon MInay, the same color of purple streamed from the moon into the sky around it.

After a moment, her vision faded back to normal, and again she was looking at Mona again from her own eyes, which now had tears in them. "You... see that... every time you look at... me?"

Mona nodded, looking back at her dearest love, a soft smile on her lips. "Every time, all the time. That's what everyone else sees when they look at us as well, though not nearly as strong as I do being in the bond."

"And now you know how I knew you were the one. No one lit up my life like you."

Earlier that day...

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

Staring at herself in the mirror of the small refresher aboard the Khallianen, Jaeih Dox felt her stomach tighten and her anxiety begin to ramp up. It was a tendency her notoriously anxious daughter did not get from nowhere, and at this exact moment, one overriding thought was beginning to get louder in the back of the mind of the former Tal’Shiar operative as she looked in that mirror at a woman that she wasn’t sure was really her:

Run.

She had just learned a truth that she had been actively avoiding thinking about for a long time now. Something she had suspected but put out of her mind for months. Something potentially terrible. That her mind and her decisions of late had been subject to the influence of another. An idea that the woman who had spent years subjecting her own people to mind control to ensure their loyalty to the Romulan Star Empire found abhorrent.

The woman accompanying them to her Daughter-In-Law’s homeworld of Miradon known as Hera, was defined as some sort of hyper-advanced being from a race worshiped as gods on Earth thousands of years ago. In this case, a Goddess of mothers and family. And this woman had some form of power. An ability, but her mere presence, to influence to lives and behavior of others, often without their knowledge. Women like Ethel Jablonski, who believed in this Hera’s benevolence and power benefited from her self-described aura by steadily increasing in strength and power. The woman had become a mountain of muscle in a fairly short period of time, growing even in height as she absorbed the effects of this so-called aura. When her own door on the Hera was still being guarded, Jaeih had watched Ethel grow taller over time. It was functionally impossible but it happened all the same.

And now, Jaeih had learned that this aura had been affecting her as well. Influencing her thoughts and behavior for months. SOFTENING her. Making her embrace her role as a mother and a guardian of children. Suddenly, the choices she had been making began to make more sense. Suddenly, the decision to walk away from the career path that had dominated her entire life… that of intelligence… had taken a back seat to becoming some kind of nanny to the children of the Hera. And not just any children, but the children most affected by this Hera woman.

No longer was she the warrior she had been. No longer the canny Romulan woman who prized her abilities at deduction and investigation above all else. No longer the woman who could control her most base emotions of sentimentality and childish affections.

She was a Kreldanni NANNY.

Her days spent, not uncovering secrets or controlling her own destiny. Instead, she now watched over a brood of mewling children. And in the cockpit of the ship, were three more coming that she would take to helping raise. Her own grandchildren. The daughters of her daughter and the Miradonian woman who had seemed to find her way into Jaeih’s heart at the same time that she found her passions shifting. Her resolve to be who she was... weakening. Was that her own thoughts, or the work of this Hera woman?

She didn’t know anymore. And the idea that her own thoughts might not be trustworthy frightened the stern Romulan woman to the bone. How badly had her mind been compromised? Was she even capable of knowing?

When she thought of Mona and the children to come, she wanted to smile. She cared deeply for the Miradonian woman. She had already sacrificed her own freedom once to protect her and those unborn children. Was that truly her decision or the lingering influence of Hera?

Minerva O’Dell had stolen her heart. She was now the Theirr’anov, or godmother, to Captain Telvan’s daughter, Moira. And here, on her daughter’s freighter, she found herself missing their presence. She missed caring for children? Was she not the same woman who trained her own daughter to fight by breaking her bones? Was she not the same woman who left the Mol Krun’chi colony where Mnhei’sahe was born simply to return to her career as a smuggler where she was free?

THAT was Jaeih Dox.

Or was it? Who was Jaeih Dox, anymore? As she stared into that mirror, her brow cold, and her pulse quicker than usual, she wasn’t sure. Even the NAME, she kept and didn’t know why. She had no love for Declan Dox. Their marriage a sham to help hide Mnhei’sahe from the machination of Verelan t’Rul. She was Jaeih t’Aan. That was the house name her father had earned through his noble service to the Imperium. Yes, when she betrayed that same empire, that name was written and burned three times on the floor of the Romulan senate. It held no further influence on her homeworld, and would never be spoken again by her people. But that was no reason to embrace the name of a man she cared nothing for simply because… it had value to Mnhei’sahe.

Why did she care so much about such things? Did she decide to on her own? How could she even know? The thoughts danced in her head in a violent display of aggression and self-doubt that she could not reconcile. And as she stared at her own face in the mirror, her eyes narrowed and her anger rose. She had been manipulated. Used. Turned into something other than who she had always been. She believed she was changing and growing as a woman, and it now turned out that she was. But perhaps… not by her own choice.

And she did not like that idea.

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

Hours later, the moon of Miradon shone brightly through the expansively large room in the hotel room she had to herself. It was twice as large as her quarters on the Hera and, in that moment, felt painfully empty. The others had likely settled in for the evening in preparation for the tour of Mona's world that would begin in the morning, but the elder Romulan woman just couldn't sleep. Her fears from earlier, that she had tried to ignore, gnawed at the back of her mind.

After pacing around the room, the former Intel operative made a decision. She did not want to burden Mnhei'sahe or Mona with her concerns, and while Ethel was a good and honorable woman, she herself admitted she was incapable of being impartial concerning the woman known as Hera. In truth, there was one woman Jaeih trusted in spite of herself, to always tell her the unvarnished truth. And that was what she needed to calm her mind. So she stepped over to the communication stations and paused for a moment.

Jaeih wondered if she was going mad. Doubting herself and who she was. Doubting her own mind. And now, perhaps the most insane course of action she could have thought of. Entering her control codes into the hotels' comm system, Jaeih called up the control screen and spoke. “This is Jaeih Dox. Access Code 99C-X7363. Private message to… *sigh*... Commander Rita Paris.”

“...Please…”

=^= Commander Paris, you have a private call from Jaeih Dox =^=

There were five seconds where she did not trust herself to speak, for fear of what she would say aloud to the ship's computer. That moment passed, stretching out for what seemed like considerably longer in subjective time. But once she had regained her faculties, Rita Paris disengaged herself from the activity in which she had been engaged, and hopped out of bed, rolling her eyes to the overhead as she scampered into the reclamator.

"Please put the call through, computer, thank you." Rita paused while she tried to convince her bladder to purge. "This is Paris, go ahead, Mrs. Dox. Please tell me there's no trouble?"

Sitting on the bridge of the small craft, Rita's tone was curious as Jaeih cricked an eyebrow and replied. "No, nothing like that. We are safe and secure. There has been no trouble to speak of. It's, in fact, quite lovely here. It's..."

"I apologize for calling at such an hour, I do..." As she spoke, there was the slightest warble in her voice. An echo of the same insecurities Rita had become quite familiar with hearing from Jaeih's own daughter. "But... I have a... more... personal concern that I... cannot reconcile in my own."

"I..." The words felt like leaden weights upon her heart as she forced them out. "I... needed to speak with... with you."

Ankles on either side of the toilet, knees together, Paris quirked an eyebrow as she considered what was happening. At least it isn't 03;00. The woman had placed a subspace call, and no matter how 'private' you made an incoming call to a starship, it wasn't that private on an intel vessel. But on that channel she was having a crisis. NEEDED to speak to me? Hmmm. Grandma for real now, Mona's gonna pop any second and you put her in a Winnebago with Hera and Jablonski... they made small talk. The Aura thing. Doubt yourself, is this all a mind game, oy vey.

When she spoke,m her voice was low, and earnest. "Talk to me, Mrs. Dox. You have my full attention, and I'll help however I can. What's on your mind?"

"My mind. Perhaps that's as good a place to start." Jaeih said, half to herself as she seemed to be verbalizing her thoughts. "This woman... Hera. We spoke and... she spoke of some kind of... AURA. Some kind of... Projection from her that affected others. She... said that I have been... absorbing it rather strongly. You know something of this?"

"I do," Paris answered, then launched into a reasonable presentation of the facts. "The Hera entity continually emits wavelengths of energy that correspond with emotion. She manipulates neither the energy nor the emotion, but if it reverberates within an individual, it enables them to exceed known parameters. Petty Officer Jablonski is a notable specimen, as you likely have surmised by now."

"As you may imagine, any sort of energy display such as this, even a gradual one that builds up over time, is something of considerable interest to the science department. You know how thorough Mr. Sonak is, of course. The facts and figures of all active and passive scans have been cataloged. Sickbay has monitored the progress of all of the affected individuals, as well as those who have rejected the gifts offered. A number of the Security staff consider the aura affectation to be sinister, and want no part of it. They continue to appear to be untouched by the energy wavelengths that Hera radiates."

"Am I to assume that the reason why you are asking me this question is because you are, ah, wondering if you yourself have been affected by this 'aura'?"

"I... am not, as a point of fact. It has been stated, in no uncertain terms that I am, in essence, absorbing this... aura. And have been, it seems, since I arrived." Jaeih said, her voice sounding more unsure and anxious than Rita had likely ever heard it before. "The implication is that, like Petty Officer Jablonski, I am... exceedingly receptive to this aura. But in my case it is affecting not my strength or musculature, but my mind and emotions."

"Hera referred to it as an effect on my... maternal instincts and..." Jaeih paused as she considered her words. "Thoughts. My thoughts have been affected by this. And if I am to understand this properly from what this Hera, Miss Jablonski and yourself are saying, I have unknowingly... invited this."

"What... what does that mean?" Jaeih legitimately asked.

"It's my understanding that you can choose to accept or reject this aura, as it has been defined," Paris replied in earnest. "I am no stronger now than when I arrived, nor and I faster healthier... well, perhaps a bit mentally healthier but that has a lot to do with Sonak and less with Hera. You will note I am not pregnant, and while I may, as was observed often in my youth, 'built for making babies' I have not done so in the year and a half she has been aboard over time. So, my experiences notwithstanding..."

There was a pause then, as Paris sought what to say. In the end, searching her feelings, Rita, as always, did the best she could. "You wanted to be a better mother to your daughter, Mrs. Dox. You wanted to be a good grandparent. I suppose that in that desire, you may have opened yourself to Hera's aura, and yes, it may have affected you. Making you more patient, more... adept? at the art of parenting. Because that was what you wanted, and that's kind of Hera's bag. Plus she is very fond of a redemption story, of healed relationships between mothers and daughters."

"So yes, I suspect that you may very well have been affected," the starfaring siren of so long ago admitted. "Which is deeply unsettling to you because despite what I am sure were reassurances from all involved, you don't believe that you would allow yourself to be influenced thusly. Ergo you are now questioning whether your choices have been your own, or if they have been guided by that energy wavelength that makes midgets and space pig pub crawlers excellent parents. In short, you are concerned that your mind has been tampered with, and you are somehow going from being a dangerous woman to a motherly pushover. How'm I doing?"

There was a long pause as Jaeih deeply considered everything Rita had said. When it came down to it, the elder Romulan woman legitimately trusted Rita in a way she did few others. And at that moment, that trust was essential to her.

"You... are doing quite well, Commander." Jaeih admitted. "I... when we first met. When you came to me at Starfleet Intel Command and we talked, you... surprised me, Commander. You were very different from those I had been forced to endure in my time there. And while I would go on to cause further damage to Mnhei'sahe afterward, on that day that you came to me, I meant everything I said to you."

The elder Romulan took a large breath as she continued. "It is implied by all of this, that what has happened to me is exactly what you are saying, which corroborates what Hera and Miss Jablonski,  that this effect has simply... enhanced who I wished to become. Made that... easier for me in some respects."

"But... as you said... it has... damaged my ability to trust my own thoughts on the matter. And for what it is worth, Com... for what it is worth, RITA, I... trust you." It was possibly the first time the once-jaded Intel operative had ever referred to Rita by her first name, "I need to ask you, because you are a horrible liar: Am I the same woman I was... no... that I wanted to be... when you first met me? Before I was exposed to this... aura."

Sensing the urgency of the moment, Rita Paris took a deep breath, considered her words, then carried on.

"Mrs. Dox... Jaeih..." Rita Paris was something of a stickler for such things, and had also never used the woman's first name either. Both of them were a bit old-school that way, in their own ways, and thus she intentionally brought the intimacy of the conversation to the same level to which the elder Dox had brought it. "You are not the same woman, no. She was very, very angry, distrustful, and frankly archly superior. Surrounded by those who treated you as a codebreaking machine, essentially, with no interest in you as a person. A prisoner, no matter how gilded the cage, who resented her captors. Of whom I was one."

"You distrusted me, my motives, the news I brought- why would you not? And when I brought your daughter, you still distrusted- her, in this case, as you were trying to protect her from the truth, but protect yourself from it just as much. When we had you shipped out to the Hera, you distrusted it. You waited for the other shoe to drop, for the catch in it all. For it all to turn out to have been a mind game or a trick. Which, I admit, was all reasonable, given your background and your experiences." Shifting on her seat a bit, Paris focused on what she was saying, as this next bit was important.

"Over time, we earned your trust. Although I have to say, I have never had to prove myself so consistently to anyone since my own father as I have with you, Mrs. Dox," Rita chuckled, a bit ruefully. "Your daughter believed me the day we met, saw what she could be, and set her course, because we reached an understanding. She wanted to be a good Starfleet officer. I wanted for her to be a good Starfleet officer; and I would teach her, because senior officers train junior officers, and prepare them to take over for the next generation. That's Starfleet tradition, Mnhei'sahe saw that, and recognized it was what she wanted. She chose to trust me that day, and never questioned that."

"You are a very different case. A lifetime of suspicion and betrayals has left you suspicious of everything and everyone. And I am not condemning that," Paris qualified. "We need someone to be looking in the dark corners, to suspect the motives of others, to be on guard against betrayal. It is just a challenge of mine, that I must prove to you again and again that we come in peace. That your choices are your own. That we want to help, but we will not force you to act or do something other than what you yourself choose, within reason. With that said..."

"I believe Hera offers the tools. Patience. Protectiveness. A bit of wisdom, earned through years of mistakes. inborn knowledge that every woman knows in her heart, that sometimes gets tangled up on the way out. That warm feeling when you see a child smile. Hera offers to encourage these things..." Paris took a deep breath, as she had rambled a bit now, and needed to get to the point. "But yes. I genuinely believe- and so far, science bears me out- that you chose whether to let her help you become a better mother. If you ask me why, I might say that's because that's what you wanted. you wanted to be a better mother to your daughter, to your daughter in law. You took up with the Captain's little one, and with the little minotaur, because the kids adore you, and you are good with them. Not because we forced you to. Yes, you fought me on me asking you to take over Daycare One, but now you see it again as a demotion, a watering down of the fires that burn in your fierce grey heart."

"I don't need a cold-blooded Intel operative, Mrs. Dox. I could have dozens of them- implacable, cold, able to strike without mercy and carry no regret. Such personnel are available in Starfleet, particularly in Starfleet Intelligence. But that's not what the Hera needs. It's not what Dox or Mona need, not what those kids on the R&D flight deck need. The person that you are- the one who smiles and plays peek-a-boo, but can still decode a 98 character Romulan cipher by recognizing it as a variant of a L'iger codex used fifty years ago two sectors away and reprogram the intercepted message to send false data... that's the woman I need. One who balances efficiency and compassion. You, Mrs. Dox."

"If you believe you have been unduly influenced, I believe we can offer you a modified force field belt to insure the radiation Hera emanates does not affect you, and it should fade from your cells in time. Or we can discuss leaching it out of you to ensure that your mind and your choices are your own. Hera will not take offense- her 'gifts' are for those who wish them, and not for those who do not. If need be I can transfer you to remove you from the source, and over time you can make your determinations on your own, and make your choices knowing you are making them free of any influence." Sighing, Rita wound it up.

"I will say you are a better woman than the one I shamed, who lied to her daughter in an effort to keep an old lie solvent, untrusting of her daughter's ability to handle the truth, and of her own ability to face it. You are far stronger, far braver than that woman I had to learn a word out of the Romulan dictionary to insult. You have become so much more than you were, and for what it's worth, I'm proud of you. But I understand suspecting manipulation and mind games and how integral they have been to your life, and I respect how unsettling this is for you. So, how would you like to proceed, Mrs. Dox?"

There was another long pause as Jaeih absorbed every word and processed all the information. "I... wished to keep my concerns from Mnhei'sahe and Mona. I did not want to disrupt this day for them, so I suppose I still have a ways to go towards learning to trust, in that regard." She said with a slightly lighter tone and a light chuckle and a sigh.

"I am... trying to be better," she said, not directly answering Rita, but rather letting her mind wander and her thoughts simply come out. It was not natural to her, and took a bit of doing to get there in the moment, but once she was, she did nothing to stop herself. "I... love them, Rita. I love those children. I... fight against the voice of the woman I was, who wishes to degenerate the place I now find myself in in my life. And on many days, that voice is weak. On some days, it is completely quiet. Today... it grew strong again, bolstered by what I have learned."

"And, in truth, what I had reason to suspect for a while now, but chose to ignore."

"I would... not become that woman again. I would drown her in her own rage and anguish if I could, to leave her forever behind me," Jaeih declared, strength returning to her voice. "But that is not how life works. We must learn to accept and live with the worst parts of ourselves. And... that is easier in my life now. And I would keep it that way if I could."

"I would proceed... by continuing upon the course I have chosen. If this... aura has made it easier for me to be the woman that my daughter, Mona, the children and you need me to be, then I would wish to continue to do what I have done in accepting it, as it is the woman I have long lacked the strength to become." Jaeih said, more confidently. "I apologize for my need this evening, if it has disturbed you. Though... I am thankful for your assistance. I must still apologize for my distrust to the others if I am to move forward properly, but..."

"Thank you, Rita." Jaeih said sincerely.

"I have two points to raise, Mrs. Dox, if you will indulge me?" Paris replied, then nodded at the silence which indicated assent. "One, I don't mind having to prove myself, and Starfleet's intentions to you, Mrs. Dox. It stops me becoming complacent, and keeps me mindful of my own words and actions, because if I ever doubt that I will be held accountable, I know you are there, and you are watching, and you are waiting for me and my promise of Starfleet to falter and betray your trust. That isn't a bad thing, and in my own way I appreciate it. Your trust is hard-won, and not to be taken for granted. I appreciate that."

"Second, I have always referred to you as Mrs. Dox. I suppose this may be interpreted as me continually reinforcing that identity- that of mother, older woman, matriarch. In a way, I suppose that is true," Rita admitted. "But to be honest, it's how I was raised. Despite the fact that my date of birth precedes your own, you are older, and have more life experience than I. While your daughter is a peer to me, you are her mother. I was raised to respect my elders, and part of doing so is to refer to them not with the familiar first name, but the honorific and the last name."

"That's why you are Mrs. Dox to me. Not because it diminishes you in any way. But because it offers you respect when I address you in that way, much like I seldom call the Captain by her first name. I am well aware of it, but... using her title is a small token of my respect." At that, Rita chuckled. "Besides, it is a long-standing Earth tradition that great lady spies are often referred to as 'Mrs.' and their last names, because in Earth society it often caused others to underestimate such a personage, imagining them to be incapable of being a capable operative."

"Interesting." Jaeih said, and Rita could hear that there was the lightest of smiles upon her face as she spoke. "I would learn more of this Earth tradition when we return. That said, I hope my use of your forename earlier was not seen as a sign of disrespect."

Her tone a bit more serious now, Jaeih elaborated. "In the moment, I decided that if I was to express my respect to you properly, not simply as a Commander, but as an individual that I trust, that such use would hopefully communicate that idea. The value of an individual's true name is something of an oft-unspoken aspect of Romulan culture, and its use generally reserved only for those that have earned it. As such, I hope I did not act presumptuously, and if I have, I would apologize."

"Mrs. Dox... Jaeih," Rita replied gently. "You wanted to really stress the moment, and from you, that IS an honorific. It's fine, relax. Look... you are worried because you have the sudden realization that your life and choices may not have been your own, that you are being manipulated. You are a Romulan. I daresay you are the most Romulan Romulan who has ever Romulaned. You can lie effortlessly and with passion. You actually strive to cleave to a code of honor, yet it has often gotten tangled up in your fears and you have failed. But here, in this place, on this ship, with your daughter and her family, you found purpose."

"YET you want more. You want to be able to affect the universe on a larger scale. You are frustrated, despite the freedom you have and the activities in which you are engaged. I asked you to guide the minds of the next generation of exceptional explorers, and I can tell you STILL see it as nanny duty, when you should be... what? Captaining the ship? Doing my job? Your unbridled ambition is part of what makes you truly Romulan, Mrs. Dox. You lack absolutely none of it, I can assure you." Rita chuckled, shook her head, then wiped herself and got up, stepping over to the sonic shower.

It was a truth that stung to hear, but in her heart, Jaeih acknowledged that she had called Rita Paris for a reason: to hear what she didn't want to hear from a woman who would not lie to her.

"If Hera has actually affected you, it is only to turn all of that toward defending your family, and your tattered but rebuilding honor. Not unlike the namesake thereof," the extradimensional explorer observed. "I'm proud of Mnhei'sahe across all metrics. She's not the angry young woman with the empty quarters, save for the punching dummy smeared in green blood. Who hurts herself when she makes a mistake. She has come a VERY long way, and your have had no small part in that. Healing her relationship with you, being able to rely upon and confide in you... to trust you... has given her a foundation to stop hating herself and trust herself, her instincts and her choices. Because she isn't busy beating herself up over her past... with you."

"So if Hera has affected you, that's the result. Take all of that for what you will, Mrs. Dox. Lecture over. Thoughts?" the old-fashioned officer stepped out of the shower, reaching for some lotion to moisturize her skin.

On her end, Jaeih tilted her head slightly at the somewhat telling sound in the background of Rita's sonic shower and replied. "My thoughts. My thoughts are... complicated, as usual. Yes, you are correct. My ambitions and my fears remain a problem. They have always interrupted my desires to be... better. For myself and for Mnhei'sahe. My ambitions robbed her of a father. Robbed her of a proper home. I... would control those fears and temper those ambitions. If this Hera has helped me do that, then I accept that as a boon."

There was a slight warble in her voice. "And I would return to the purpose I have found on the ship that bares her name."

"Mrs. Dox, your ambition is of little consequence because you hold no rank. So you have as much authority as we grant you. With which you will grumble but content yourself, and eventually see why you were chosen for the task. Jaeih... it's okay to be freaked out at the birth of your grandchildren, an event VERY much beyond your ability to control. So a discovery like Hera at a time like that is perfectly natural for it to be perhaps more stressful than one would have hoped approaching such an occasion."

"Don't be so hard on yourself. If you need to call the Commander, or if you need to call Rita, I'm right here, alright?" The emotional executive hoped that her tone sold the sentiment, which was genuine, of course. "I promise you, I genuinely believe Hera means no harm. I sent her along too, because if only as a midwife, she had been doing this for literally nine thousand years. No one knows more about childbirth than her, so... if you have mother in law jitters or grandma jitters, maybe try talking to Hera. She genuinely understands the experience, be it Human or Romulan."

"After all, the Olympians took a tour of Romulus after they'd been rebranded by Rome..."

"Hmmm. An interesting point, indeed" Jaieh said, running a finger across her lips as she considered Rita's words. "Perhaps that is... overdue. I will speak with her. Apologize for my earlier behavior. She seemed... quite insistent that she would allow no harm to come to the children, and I disregarded that."

"I have one more question, if I may." Jaieh asked, taking the moment of silence over the comm as approval to continue. "Hera said that you had become her daughter. You share this depth of feeling with her?"

That earned a pause, during which Rita rolled her eyes to the overhead, then inhaled deeply and let it out slowly, not in a sigh, but in a centering of sorts. When she spoke, her voice was quiet and low- clearly this was personal to her.

"When I was six, my mother died. I have enough memories of her to know she was there, and that she loved us, and that she was kind of amazing. I remember I was a year and a half old and I had found a corroded battery that was tasty to lick, and I remember offering her some. She scrubbed my tongue off with a washcloth- a very odd sensation that stick with you- and she warned me that was poison, not to eat that because it would hurt me."

"I have a few memories like that of my mother, and aside from a few images, that's all. There is some suspicion that my father killed her... I'll never know for certain, but signs did point that way." There was another pause on the line, then the star-crossed Starfleet siren pressed on. "I grew up with my father and my brother, who ignored or derided me and favored my brother, showering him with praise for any accomplishment, real or imagined. I would go to to her friends houses and see their relationships with their mothers, and I was envious. But I knew what I wanted, so I played the game and hung out with the boy's club to learn how they spoke to one another, what they expected from me and how to turn it all to the advantage of my career."

"I'm no stranger to ambition myself, Mrs. Dox," Rita admitted, even as she inadvertently pointed out that she was, in some ways, envious of Dox's relationship with her own mother, to whom the golden age officer was making said admission. "So I worked and I pushed and in all of that, there was never that role model behind me who said that she was proud of me. There was never the woman I could go to, who would never judge me, but always be on my side. She'd hear me out, maybe offer some insight, maybe some wisdom or advice, then give me a hug and a cookie and send me back out there to wrestle with the forces of the galaxy."

"Hera... is literally the goddess of women and motherhood, amongst the rest. Home, hearth and family. I... come from a Starfleet legacy, Mrs. Dox. I don't know if you are aware of that. There were Paris men building the NX-01 to get us out there into space, under Jonathan Archer. My own mother worked the shipyards of Utopia Planitia- that was where she met my father, and they fell in love. There have been Paris' in Starfleet since before it WAS Starfleet- that's what they say in my family." At this, Paris sniffled, because the subject was an emotional one for her, and she was surprised to discover that tears were welling up.

"I have Sonak... so I am not alone. I have a family, through him, and we plan to have children together. I have a plan- hah!" Rita barked a laugh, pulling on a pair of lacy blue panties as she hunted through the drawer for the matching teddy. "When does Rita not have a plan? But we'll have a family, and we'll carry on the tradition. That's important to me... more than I would care to admit. Through all of that, it would be... nice... if there was..."

At that, Rita did sigh, as her shoulders sagged. "I believe in Hera. I know it isn't strictly Starfleet and it clouds my judgment, but... she turned her life around, and she does her best to not interfere, but to be there for us when we need her. If I go to her for some advice, she gives me a hug and a cookie and sends me off with a good idea. She... occupies that place in my life, where... I will admit, Mrs. Dox, I always wished there would be someone there. She... calls me her daughter. Which is problematic, I know. But in a sense, we are all her daughters. She IS the goddess of women, after all. Which is a dodge, I know, but..."

"It is an odd patchwork family that a crew tends to form. It has been thus since the days of tall-masted ships on the seas of Earth, and it remains so out here amongst the stars," Rita waxed eloquent for a bit. "I don't exactly call Hera 'mother', but I do not dispute her claim to me as her daughter. She once offered me a boon, and I took it. I asked her to be the kind of goddess that I could tell my kids about someday. not the snarling, rage-filled petty tyrant she had been, but a goddess whose name was stamped on the hull of this starship in letters twenty-one meters high."

"That she has become, for which I am very proud of her. She genuinely just wants to help- she's not forcing her assistance on anyone, her power nor her wisdom on anyone. Instead she is just there for us if we ask of her, and she does her best for us. Which... is kind of what we all want out of a mother, isn't it?" At that, Paris mopped away the tears, which made an odd juxtaposition to the lingerie she had chosen as she hunted for a scent- nothing too strong, as his olfactory senses were quite keen, but something the Master of Gol would find pleasing. Really, she had run out of things to say, and while she had meandered, she wasn't even certain she had gotten a point across.

But many star systems away, on the homeworld of her unlikely daughter-in-law, the impact of what Rita Paris had revealed hit the elder Romulan woman right in her heart. Through Rita, she now had a sense of understanding of the being known as Hera, that she had previously chosen to overlook. "I... apologize that my questions have given you cause to think of things that you would have otherwise chosen not to. But I thank you for your answer. I greatly appreciate that you have done so with such openness and it has helped me... considerably."

"When my daughter declared you her Rinam... her sister... my feelings then were decidedly mixed. They are no longer mixed. But beyond that, what it told me was that you had her ultimate trust. That single word told me the core of all I would need to know of you as an individual, even if... again, at the time... I did not like it. Since then, I have overcome those early feelings and have come to trust you greatly as well. With her life and mine, when needed. As such, your word on the subject of Hera is... extremely valuable to me. I thank you for listening to me."

"It's quite alright, Mrs. Dox. I don't mind... and truly, it WAS a fair question. One I haven't really defined myself, so thank you for calling me out on it, and keeping me honest. As for calling me..." Internally, Rita received the message, a subtle nudge, that Sonak's experiment could now conclude without his attendance, and that he was on his way to their quarters. "Mrs. Dox, I offered you the same challenge that I offered Hera. To be better, simply put, in all aspects of your life. To be a better person, a better mother, a better you. Both of you have risen, and continue to rise, to that challenge quite brilliantly. I am very proud to know both you and Hera."

"With that said, it's my responsibility to be there to help you when you need it. I can't just ask you to turn over a new leaf and then just abandon you to do it all yourself? Not exactly responsible, that," Rita chuckled as she smoothed out the sheets of the bed and pitched her rabbit into the nightstand. "So I am glad that you called me when you needed some insight, some input so that you could establish your own mind and reassure yourself. I need to be there for you when you need me- that's part of it all too, right?"

Listening, Jaeih nodded reflexively, even though she couldn't be seen. "As Mnhei'sahe would say, we are stronger together. YOUR words, I believe. And good ones. Words worth remembering in time of need. I still need to apologize to Hera for my poor behavior earlier, but for now, I will take my leave."

Sparing an unguarded smirk in her hotel suite, the very observant Romulan with very sharp ears had heard and interpreted the trip to the refresher, the sonic shower, the opening and closing of drawers and the smoothing of the sheets and she considered the potential implications of what that could all mean as she continued. "I would not wish to interrupt your evening any further than I already have. Jolan'tru, Commander, and thank you again."

A musical laugh was the reply, as the doors to the quarters opened in the background. "Perfect timing as always. Go see to the birth of your grandchildren, and try not to be too cross with Jablonski when she is only following orders. Good night, Mrs. Dox." Rita looked to the overhead and added, in a whisper as she crossed the room to greet her husband, "Computer, please end transmission..."

Back on Miradon, the communication relay deactivated with a melodic chirping sound and Jeaih stepped back across the room to the outcropping of a balcony that overlooked the city of Quen'Quen. The night sky almost had a purple quality to it thanks to the glow that came off of the brightest of the two moons in the sky, which in that moment became just a little brighter as the smaller, dark moon that Mona called Nicoo'la for her people's trickster god, cleared its orbital eclipse that had been blocking the light of the main mood, called Minay. 

"So..." Jaeih said with a grin, as she spoke to the moon over the balcony's edge. "The shadow has passed, in more ways than one. Poetic."

Walking down the long, curved hallway of the rounded grand hotel in Quen'Quen, the capital city of Miradon, the former Intel operative Jaeih Dox had her hands folded behind her back and her usual, inscrutable expression upon her face.

In truth, the elder Romulan with the salt-and-pepper hair pulled back into a tight ponytail who still wore the pointed bangs typical of the Romulan military, felt contrite. Yesterday, when on her daughter’s ship en route to her daughter-in-law’s homeword where they were now staying, Jaeih had finally had a face-to-face meeting with the unique being known as Hera.

The Ambrosian woman sat across from her in the ship’s hold, and during a brief conversation, Jaeih had learned something that had troubled her. She had learned that the mysterious woman who called herself the goddess of women, family, and childbirth, possessed some sort of aura. A field of energy that she projected that affected those willing to receive it that, in the case of her protectors like Petty Officer Ethel Jablonski, gave then the gift of greater physical strength. But to many on the starship that bore her name, that Aura had helped lead to a record number of pregnancies and deepened relationships.

In her case, Jaeih had learned she had been strongly absorbing Hera’s aura in regards to her increased feelings of Maternal connection. In her time on the ship, Jaeih had worked hard to recover her deeply damaged relationship with her daughter, Mnhei’sahe and with Mnhei’sahe’s wife, Mona. In learning that an external force had been affecting her, Jaeih panicked. Overreacting, she shut herself down emotionally and withdrew for most of the first day they were on Miradon. But after a conversation that helped allay her fears, she realized that she had overreacted and, in doing so, had slighted the woman who was there to help ensure that her granddaughters would be born healthy.

Feeling more confident in herself, the Romulan woman wished to speak to the goddess and apologize and, hopefully, clear the proverbial air. That is, if the two women standing outside the door to her suite in the beautiful hotel on the teal-skied planet would allow it.

Still in their gold Starfleet uniforms, Petty Officer’s Jablonski and Liu stood guard outside Hera’s door just as they did on the Starship that bore her name as honor guards. Looking down, the mammoth mountain of muscle looked uncomfortable. “Good morning, Mrs. Dox. Can we help you?”

Five minutes of considerable explanation and apologies later, the door finally was opened and the even more contrite looking Romulan woman was let in to the expansive suite. The room was a large, circular space with long, rainbow-tinted windows overlooking the rolling hills beyond the city, where the warm light of the early morning sun filled the room with a brilliant light. Taking a breath and adjusting her starched gray tunic, Jaeih’s voice was slightly weak as she called out from the foyer. “Pardon my intrusion, Hera. It’s… it’s Jaeih. Would it be possible to… speak?”

"Of course, my dear. I was just sitting down to enjoy some of the local cuisine and I may have ordered a bit much. Please, join me." The elderly woman ordered another plate, glass, and set of silverware from the replicator pad and moved them from the central dias of the dining table to the seat next to hers, the table already filled with varied Miradonian cuisine from all over the planet as well as a bottle of dark, fruity wine. "It seems that the catering this hotel provides is exquisite. They prepare the food, then beam it to the replication pad on your table. If you need condiments or more dishes, those are the only things that are commonly replicated."

"Now... Please, have a seat, have a bite, and tell me what's on your mind."

Raising an eyebrow at the overloaded table and Hera's pleasant demeanor, Jaeih couldn't help but ponder that a people with very few taste receptors had such a penchant for authentically cooked food over replication. Mona, in truth, seemed to adore cooking, herself. And Hera seemed to be very receptive to visitors. 

Slowly, she stepped over and sat down at the offered seat and folded her hands on her lap, sitting quite professionally, as was her general way. "I would like to speak about my... behavior yesterday. And of the aura which, it appears, I have been particularly... receptive. I was... caught off guard and reacted poorly, and would apologize."

"Completely understandable, my dear. I'm guessing as a Rihannsu, or Romulan, or Dark Alvari, whichever you prefer... You're none too fond of anyone influencing your mental faculties in any way and you've been wondering if you would have made the same decisions you have since being close to me if you were not receptive to my aura." Hera paused a moment as she piled several foods onto Jaeih's plate and filled her glass with the dark wine.

"That's just it though, isn't it? You're receptive to it, so you wanted to make those decisions, right? It just gave you a little nudge and helped you along your way? Helped you to become the woman you wanted to be? That being said, I do owe you an apology for the inherent lack of conscious approval or foreknowledge on your part..."

"Thank you." Jaeih said, looking over the food that did look quite tasty. "Without going into excessive detail, I do not have the most... clean history regarding the concept and application of... mental manipulation. And yes, I am afraid that I reacted... poorly as a result of my own personal history."

"But to answer your question, yes. When I came aboard the ship, it was with the intention, however improbable, to attempt to repair the rift between myself and my daughter, Mnhei'sahe. It was something I had tried to do many times. And subsequently, I have failed at that many times."

"Then perhaps it was time for a bit of what many to refer to as 'divine' assistance," Hera replied with a straight face. This was a subject in which she took seriously as it was one in which the Fates dealt and not within her control. "Only the Fates would be able to answer that question and I doubt they would see fit to."

The matronly goddess then dug into the food on her own plate, sampling one of the various egg and vegetable dishes lovingly crafted with a thick and chunky iridescent purple sauce on top. "Mmmm... The taste is... Unique... But the energy... If I didn't know better, I would say that these people ate more with their eyes and energy senses than with their nose and mouth."

Taking a bite, Jaeih processed it for a moment and nodded. "That would be worth asking Mona about. She prepares many of her meals with Mnhei'sahe's tastes in mind, and we tend to favor tastes others define as harsh or bitter. But considering the nature of their senses, it would explain the predilection for hand-grown, hand-prepared dishes. If one is 'tasting' based on the energy put into the food, such preparation would greatly influence the perception of taste."

For a moment, it was relaxing to dig into a minor mental investigation and change the subject briefly. But after her comment, the salt-and-pepper haired Romulan woman nodded and took a drink. "If it is true that my attempts at reconnecting with my daughter... forging a bond with my daughter-in-law... with the children on the ship such as my goddaughter Moria or the little Minerva... if that was all something that your aura strengthened my ability to deal with in the manner in which I wanted to rather than retreating literally and figuratively into old patterns, then I owe you my thanks, not my suspicions."

"Would you thank one of your datapads for displaying a document or a tricorder for scanning something?" Hera asked, a blue fruit on the end of her fork. "To me, my aura is similar in nature. Though... You are quite welcome. I've noticed Rita thanks the computer when she makes requests of it in front of me and it responds in kind, which leads me to believe it has a crude intelligence to it as well. For millennia I've always thought of my aura as a passive tool, however... Some of your crew reject it and you raise the question of conscious versus subconscious approval. This is the first time I have had to think on such things."

"That would be wise food for moving forward, I am sure." Jaeih said, taking another bit of the interesting meal before her. "But for now, it was important to me to try and understand your nature and... perhaps... my own. I have been a poor mother for a long time. Not worthy of the name. But I find myself in a completely new position in my life. My daughter and I have established a degree of closeness that had never been before. My feelings for Mona are equally strong. I find my thoughts linger on them... On their children to come... To those children on the ship... quite frequently."

Reaching slightly, Jaeih picked up a small piece of pastry and took a bite at the salty flavor and crispy texture. "But, I find these thoughts not clouding in any way. Instead, such thoughts focus me. On my duties and tasks. On improving myself to the better completion of those tasks. When I think of my mind over the months I have been on the Hera, I see none of the earmarks of altered thinking. I see the... refinement of focus. I see a mind that can review the paths set before it and choose not out of fear, but out of desire. Hope."

Looking out the window for a moment, the Elder Romulan, only a child to the ancient woman across from her, nodded. "Before joining the ship, that would not have been. If that is the result of your aura and it's influence, then I would accept it consciously. But for that, I must also ask permission."

"Permission?" Hera asked, pausing to savor a particularly sweet bit of roast meat that had to have come from a plant, yet vaguely resembled bacon. "My dear, I count you among my friends and family. I will give of myself freely to you whatever you ask of me."

"Nevertheless, If I am to be true to the goal of continuing to better myself, then it is a moral imperative. But I appreciate your reply greatly." Jaeih said, looking across at the goddess at the table.

"However, I would be remiss if I failed to ask the cost to you in giving of yourself in such a manner. Energy of any kind does not come from nowhere, after all." Jaeih asked frankly. 

Hera waved her fork in the air dismissively. "What it costs me is negligible when I consider that the return is the knowledge that you are using it to become the best you that you can be. That gives me more energy and willpower than you or any other could possibly strip from me in several of your lifetimes."

"Please, forgive my ignorance in my questions. While I made myself aware of your presence through my security clearance as a civilian member of the Intelligence Department, which was broad, but still less than any actual officer, I will admit that I... avoided my usual predilection of digging deeper in regards to you and your effect on the ship." Jaeih said as she continued eating, somewhat absentmindedly at this point, engaged more in the conversation.

"I fear that, on some level, I had deduced some degree of truth that your presence was having a beneficial effect on me and, perhaps chose to ignore that as I liked who I was as a result. A denial of fact that is... uncommon for me. However, the point of my saying so is to point out that regarding actual, useable data regarding you, I am ignorant." Jaeih concluded her bit of verbose exposition. It was something that Mnhei'sahe, Mona, and even Rita Paris had learned to recognize as an affectation of Jaeih when she was slightly nervous, that she stretched out her words and over-explained herself as a result.

"But, to get to my thesis, is that to mean that you... gain a degree of energy from the way you yourself are treated. That... say my conscious acceptance of your aura and Miss Jablonski's direct belief on you that one could interpret as worship, though clearly not blind, has a recuperative effect? Similar to your preference for hand-prepared food and drink, perhaps for similar reasons as we discussed earlier. That the energy the maker puts into such things provides the actual sustenance to you? I am legitimately curious, I must say, though I apologize if my questions are in any way offensive."

"No offense at all. You're simply inquiring about my basic biology and it's perfectly understandable. While I'm not the most verbose on the subject..." The elderly matron finished up the pastry she'd been munching on and pulled over a notepad and pen that she'd already had prepared on the table for such things, drawing the outline of a humanoid form as well as several lines emanating outward from the sides and several arrows going in and out from the chest area.

"A crude drawing, but it shall suffice." With a grin, Hera started going over at least the basics. "As an Ambrosian, I have an extra organ that collects mental energy in the form of worship, general or directed, and allows me to do great feats. Create shields, or transformations, or teleport with my mind for example. The energy collected often determines the mood of the Ambrosian, as well. If the people need a vengeful god of women, that's what they get and the aura reflects that by making it easier to absorb the qualities in it needed for that."

"However, Asgardians do not have this organ and run on a much cleaner fuel. The thanks of good deeds." Here, Hera paused a moment as she tried to figure out how to draw that, but gave up as she still didn't fully understand it herself. "Their actions use a lot of energy, but then their people and those of what they call the nine realms give praise and though they expended a great deal of their personal energy to perform feats greater than I have ever, what they get back in return is cleaner, more efficient, and does not wear on them. In fact, it invigorates them to a great extent."

"As it turns out, we Ambrosians are also able to earn energy in this manner as well. I have been doing my best to do so, helping your crew and those asked of me whenever possible. It may seem selfish of me to do so, however..." Hera paused again, a kind smile upon her face. "If it is selfish wanting to see people happy and safe and helping them to be so... Then I am perfectly fine being so."

"There are far worse things, as I see it. That said..." Jaeih reflected on all she had just heard, "Not only does your energy affect those receptive to it by enhancing that individual's desires... but the energy you take in affects your own thoughts and behaviors. A truly double-edged sword. Though, at least on the ship that is your namesake, I would hope that absorbing the praise from those such as Miss Jablonski, you are... for lack of a better term... eating healthy."

"I believe it is partially this 'healthy diet' that is staying my imprisonment with the Asgardians for my crimes against the galaxy as a whole," Hera replied with a bit of a wry grin. "So yes, I hope I am eating healthy as well, thank you."

"Hmmm. I know a little bit about being a prisoner as well." Jaeih said as she took a drink. "This is much preferable, I would say. Living with my... my family aboard the Hera."

Then, her eyebrow raised slightly as the older Romulan thought. "If I may, earlier, when you described my people, you said ' Rihannsu, Romulan, or Dark Alvari'. I admit, I've not ever heard that term, 'Dark Alvari' before. What does it mean? From where does it originate?"

"Back when my people were young, what you call Vulcanoids, in general, were known to us as Dark Alvari as they were great and cunning warriors of both mind and body. You lack the mental powers of those ancient beings, but you retain the mental and physical faculties otherwise. Most now follow logic or peace so the name no longer fits, I suppose... Though I've seen what they can do while in the grip of their mating requirements, so... Perhaps... My apologies if the term offends."

"Not at all. It is a layer of the history of my people that I did not know. It is a gift to me." Jaeih said frankly, "I am what we call a reunificationist. I am among those of the Romulan people that believe that our separation from the Vulcans was a mistake. I have pride in my people and our accomplishments... but I make no separation in my heart between Romulan and Vulcan. We are one that went our separate ways too long ago, and must reconcile to move forward and achieve our greatest potential."

At that moment, Jaeih's thoughts went to her daughter, Mnhei'sahe, and her heart swelled. "I take tremendous pride that my daughter has chosen to embrace that position so strongly in her life. I thanked the elements and Al'thindor that I have been able to see the woman she is becoming. Never did I think I would be able to thank a goddess directly for the gift, yet here I sit." 

"You are quite welcome, and thank you for giving me the opportunity to serve you as I have," Hera replied, taking a sip of her wine. "As for the subject of this 'reunification'... As a being that has lived many aeons, I am of a mind that separation is never a bad thing except when you resort to isolationism. However, even then, good things may come of it. Even in societal evolution, if you overspecialize, you breed in weakness. Thus your movement of reconnecting with Vulcan is something I wholeheartedly support as long as it does not wipe out who you are as a people."

"After all, nothing pleases an old woman like myself than seeing diversity spreading across the universe and changing into infinite new forms."

"I would imagine, especially considering that your age must be considerable. Not that I would ever wish to punctuate that point for any woman." Jaeih said with a knowing smirk as she took another drink, the morning light getting a little higher in the deep teal-colored sky. But then, her expression became a bit more serious again. "So... as I understand it, Commander Paris asked you to come with us to ensure the children are born healthy and without incident?"

"In my own way, yes," Hera replied, pausing a moment to stare at Jaeih, her eyes widening. "You... Ah, you haven't researched the stranger births on the Hera, have you? The first one under my aegis was supposed to be... Ah... Well, originally a stillborn little boy and the Fates called me into action because the first child born on the ship would have crushed everyone's spirits."

"So now Hermione is a beautiful baby girl that will grow to be a strong and healthy amazonian Bajoran woman. If anything similar gets in the way of your grandchildren's birth, I will either intercede myself. Failing that, I will use every scrap of my powers to ensure their safe arrival into this universe."

Slightly embarrassed, Jaeih looked away at the sunrise for a moment. "Ahhh, yes. Even looking after little Minerva, I have... avoided researching you, I'm afraid. In hindsight, it was... more comfortable to avoid the idea that I felt... different. Yes, better, but different. And your name came up in the ship's file, and I just... stopped looking."

"But... that was then." Jaeih said, sitting up a bit straighter as she looked back at Hera who had an expression of concern on her face. "And... your power... changed the child? To save them?"

Hera took a deep breath and let it out slowly, not entirely wanting to admit to what she was about to. "I pulled a version of the babe from an existence that no longer existed into this reality while letting the original fade from this universe. It... Sounds cold put that way... However... the child is the same in all but form... and a much worse future was avoided for all those involved, including all those that Hermione will ever interact with in the future."

"It sounds like a tremendously difficult decision that you had to make." Jaeih said, nodding. "I know a bit about those as well."

"As for little Minnie, she is the child of my ex-husband. I wrote the book that you have studied on her. I have not directly given her my blessings, but I assure you - she has nothing but love and adoration from me. I do not resent that she is the offspring of Zeus, nor do I any longer feel any desire to go after my cheating former spouse. I suppose that too is the influence of Starfleet thinking absorbed by my aura."

"Then you truly have benefitted from your time on the ship that bears your name." Jaeih replied, a bit more softness in her voice. "And from her Commander. She changed you too, didn't she? Commander Paris?"

The matronly goddess nodded solemnly, moisture in her eyes starting to build up. "I granted her a boon for sparing my life and rather than something selfish or something for those around her... She issued me a challenge. It bonded us together and I felt something within me shift... She requested that I become a better person and become a goddess that she could be proud to tell her descendants about."

"I am a goddess of women and motherhood and yet this woman that needed a mother her whole life... Nevermore had I wanted to be the person that someone needed. I only hope that I live up to her expectations."

Reaching across the table, Jaeih put her hand over Hera's and gave the goddess a legitimate smile. "That, my dear, is a fear I know all too well. But I have come to know Rita Paris well enough to know that... so long as you always keep trying... you will never let her down."

While most of the group had been sightseeing in a general group the past few days, Mona and Mnhei'sahe finally got a little time alone to visit a small shrine to the two moon goddesses near her home while the rest of their group visited a more tourist-friendly shrine about a block away with translators and flashy public ceremonies every twenty minutes. Unlike the rest of the modern styling of the cities they had been in, the smaller town had a distinctly feudal look reminiscent of Japan with ceramic tile roofs, buildings constructed from the local blue and white fast-growing bamboo-like trees, and doors and windows made from paper-thin sheets of a transparent film.

On their way from the capital city of Quen'Quen, they had visited the great natural Arches of Quen'sourri, where Mona and Dox had placed their hands together upon the stone surface and recited a prayer of hope together while a waterfall sprinkled them lightly from above with freezing cold water. Then they visited the spires of Quen'tar where they gazed upon the faces of the great leaders of Miradon carved into the largest hole in the ground on the planet - the name spires came from the tower built into the center that spiraled up in the center with an observation lounge and restaurant on several open-air decks. There, Mona was able to identify only a few of the faces, but there were pictographic guideposts at most windows with the names and descriptions of each face. Surprisingly, there were three Vulcanoid faces in the mix.

On the last leg of their journey, they had flown over the great northern sea, a vast teal saltwater ocean that separated the main continent from the smaller one. They then flew over the breathtaking snow-capped mountains of Quen'tassee before they arrived in the capital of Quen'toukie, near the orphanage where Mona was raised.

And thus after an hour in Quen'toukie, Mona had gotten her bond-mate alone to take her to a very special place where she'd found herself shortly after arriving at the orphanage. It was a bit run down and obviously still had few visitors, just as it did back when she first came all those years ago, but thankfully it was still there. The fish pond off to the side, the small shrine building, the small house in back for the clerics... It was all just about as it was the last time she was here. The shrine bell looked a bit more worn and the hammer had been replaced, but that was really the only thing she could pick out.

Guiding her chair up the worn stone path just a little ways before parking it and getting up to stretch and proceed the rest of the way on foot, she smiled peacefully. "This shrine is special to me. When I thought I had nothing left... When I wished I had been eaten as well... I got lost and ended up here behind the donation box. The clerics found me and took me in out of the rain and talked to me. Something about them... I think it was that night that I found a new purpose to life."

"This was before your foster parents took you in? Milla and Mardo?" Mnhei'sahe said as she ran her fingers just above the short stone wall that wrapped around the shrine. She was wearing her comfortable, black hiking boots and a pair of slightly baggy khakis with a snug-fitting black turtleneck and her familiar, green denim jacket. As usual, her off-duty fashions were almost as uniform as if she were wearing hers.

"What happened?" She asked, a light smile on her face as she brushed her slightly shaggy and decidedly unkempt red curls over her pointed ears.

"I had just entered into the foster care system and met Mammy and Pappy. They were nice but my heart was closed, of course, so I... ran away..." As she spoke, she waddled her way over to the small shrine house, a light smile on her face. "I think it was because of the storm, but we were staying in the city not far from here for the night before heading to the orphanage. There weren't that many other chicks there at the time and most of them were older."

"Anyway, they apparently searched for me for hours until I turned back up on my own in the morning." By now, Mona had reached the front of the small shrine building so she dug into her pocket where she had kept some spare change just for this purpose and tossed it into the prayer box, rang the prayer bell with the floating hammer, and bowed her head in silent thanks.

"I'm sure they saw your light. Individuals like that... they have a way of seeing the parts of us we would rather try and shut down to try and protect ourselves from any more pain." Mnhei'sahe said, putting an arm around Mona's back and leaning into her ever so slightly as she recalled her own issues as a teenage young woman, still believing she was half-human and taken in by the loving couple that believed themselves to be her grandparents. The human couple whose last name Mnhei'sahe still carried that did nothing but try and love an angry, petulant young woman who refused to allow them too. It was a bitter memory that Mona knew all too well through their bond.

As she thought of her own angry past, Mnhei'sahe instead chose to change the focus of those thoughts to the whimsical, rotund couple that had taken Mona in as a child and smiled. "Will Milla and Mardo be meeting us soon? I know there's no way they would want to miss the birth."

"We'll be heading to the orphanage next, actually. Then they'll be escorting us to the Aries, as per tradition." With a soft grin, Mona leaned against her Minay gently.

"It warms our hearts to see you following the old ways," came an old voice from behind them.

"Indeed. So many have abandoned them these days," Came a second.

"But to see one that has found a bond-mate with one from Altha'donar's wings," The first voice said.

"And to have returned to honor tradition..." the second voice finished.

As the pair turned to see who it was, they were greeted by the oldest pair of Miradonian clerics they could possibly imagine, dressed in simple brown robes and leaning on each other for support. Though they may have looked ancient, the pair still had a youthful gleam in their eyes and a bright smile stretched across their faces.

"I... I remember you. You're the clerics..." Mona began, one hand covering her mouth as she realized how long ago that was and just how old they would have had to be now. With a glance to Dox first, she bowed her head out of respect. "It is an honor to see you again."

Realizing the cue even without their bond, Dox matched the bow to the two elder Miradonians. Raised with military discipline by her mother, and used to being controlled and respectful when in her Senator Grandmother's presence, even holographically, the. young Romulan picked up on the reverence Mona had displayed and matched it in kind, though her upbringing kicked in a little too hard as she stopped herself in the middle of her traditional, Romulan greeting. "Jol... Greetings."

"Jolan'tru," both elder Miradonians replied in perfect Rihannsu, to which Mnhei'sahe blushed slightly and smiled.

"You're little Mona, aren't you?" "My how you've grown." "And now with three chicks of your own about to pop out too!" "You're doubtless seeking blessings, aren't you dear?" They spoke as if joined at the hip, which as close as they were, and as strong as their bond likely was, they might as well have been.

"Yes, Clerics. We..." Mona smiled at her lover, pausing a moment to reflect on things. "Yeah, my due date is sometime in the next two weeks so we're hoping to get a blessing."

Nodding, Mnhei'sahe agreed and took Mona's hand in her own. She was still slightly nervous about making cultural missteps but was getting a little more comfortable, as most every Miradonian she had come across was beyond friendly. "Yes. We would appreciate anything in that regard, really. Thank you. You... knew Mona from when she was little?"

The pair nodded, their smiles brightening. "She came here when she was but a lost chick." "We took her in for the night." "She came to visit us on the weekends." "Those first few years before college." "Found a good path in life." "Good education."

"You two were the ones that helped me find purpose after... Well... I can't say it doesn't still haunt me, because it does, but at least I work hard towards a brighter future, for them and for everyone else, just like you said." Mona smiled brightly, one arm wrapped around her belly and the other wrapped around her love. "And not just that, but for the future of our chicks and everyone else's as well."

The smiles of the two elderly Clerics brightened even further as they stepped forward, one of them pulling out an old, worn wooden bottle of anointing oil. When Mona saw that, she tugged on Dox's arm and sent a mental message that they needed to kneel.

When the two spoke, they were completely in sync once more as they each covered their thumb in the oil and placed it on the couple's foreheads. "In the name of the Moon Goddesses, we offer you and your unborn this blessing. May you have a joyous and painless experience at the ancestral place of our people."

"We accept this blessing and thank you with all of our hearts," Mona replied wholeheartedly.

Kneeling next to Mona, Mnhei'sahe replied as best she could, not knowing the culture. But the clerics clearly knew something of her culture, so she tempered that response accordingly. "We thank you for your gifts and will endeavor to reflect them in our actions. khlinae arhem."

The term was a formal giving of thanks to an elder or superior, and Mnhei'sahe said it with warm sincerity.

Even the chicks were still as the blessing was administered. A calm stillness seemed to descend upon the shrine as the two clerics stepped back and time seemed to slow. Even Dox could see the golden glow that filtered down around the pair, though it may have been a trick of the light.

Then, as quickly as it began, the moment had passed and the younger couple were getting back to their feet, having received the blessing. "Thank you, Clerics, for this and all the generosity you have shown." With another bow of her head, Mona somehow knew it was unlikely she would pass this way again.

"It was our pleasure." "Go in peace, dear heart." "The blessings of the Moon Goddesses go with you." With a bow from the two elder Clerics, they too turned to leave, heading down a side path towards the small living quarters.

As they walked gently down the path, taking care to watch every step on the uneven surface for Mona's sake, Mnhei'sahe had a rare, unguarded smile. The kind of smile reserved for use around Mona and occasionally Rita Paris. "I... I saw something. FELT something, during the blessing. It was incredible, Mona."

In truth, since Mnhei'sahe had inadvertently reawakened the psionic potential that Romulans had abandoned as a people since her people split form Vulcans millennia ago, there were many things she could perceive that she wouldn't have been able to before and her bond with Mona was stronger than only fully Miradonian couples that had been together for many years. "It felt... the same as what happened at the wedding. The light that appeared around us that flowed through us. It's... hard to describe, but it was real."

"I saw... felt... it too," whispered Mona. "It was definitely real and only the third time I've felt anything like it. The first was the night they took me in, second was our wedding... And my Minay? I swear they were almost a hundred years old when I was little." Giving her bond-mate a knowing look and a glance after the now-vanished pair, she sent the suspicion that they had just met... and been blessed by... the world's two goddesses over their bond.

Looking back down the hill where the two clerics had gone, Mnhei'sahe wondered about what she had just experienced and felt. But on some level, she knew that whatever it was, it was real. As real as Hera or Masato Rei. "Then we'll have to be sure we live up to those blessings, Jhu Dhael."

Referring to Mona by the Romulan phrase for "angel bird" had her mind dancing a bit more. "They said something about my being from 'Altha'donar's wings'. Suddenly, it makes the coincidence that Miradonian beliefs recognize a figure with a name that sounds remarkably close to the Rihannsu legend of the reborn firebird, Al'thindor, feel a BIT less coincidental."

Mona grinned mischievously. "Especially since one of the faces we saw at the spires earlier was a Rihannsu visitor that made first contact with us. The dates didn't make sense to you did they? It was just over two thousand years ago for us. Odds are, the original mythos was referring to their ship rather than an actual phoenix. Though I think the only people that could tell us the truth behind it just walked away."

Smiling back, Mnhei'sahe nodded. "They Sundering from Vulcan... the mass exodus of 80,000 under S'task was just over two thousand years ago. The early generation ships took hundreds of years to discover the hearthworlds, where the beginnings of our culture were formed in that transit. It's not impossible. And Miradon isn't too far off the main track that the ships are believed to have traveled between Vulcan and what would become ch'Rihan and ch'Havran." Comfortable around her wife more than anyone else, Mnhei'sahe used her own people's words for the names of their planets, 'Romulus' and 'Remus'.

"It was pre-warp and the generation ships used the gravity of stars to propel themselves at near-relativistic speeds. They may have used Saaa for a speed boost and stopped here before discovering the world was inhabited." Mnhei'sahe said, thoughtfully. As a child, her mother ensured she knew her history well.

"And since we can see things like that, it explains the legend of Nicoo'la tricking Altha'donar into flying too close to our sun, Saaa, and Goo'lga, the bird of wisdom, scattering the ashes across the night sky." Mona mused for a moment wondering if there were other names or words in Miradonian that were taken from the Rihannsu visitor.

"That is... exactly the kind of thing from which legends are created. It's something to think about." Mnhei'sahe said, squeezing Mona's hand tight. "The more we see, the more it appears out people have more connections than just our relationship."

Then, she turned her attention back to the shrine. "Did you spend a lot of time here. I know you were... reluctant to talk about your beliefs early in our relationship, and I've never pressed much as I never want you to feel uncomfortable, but I'm interested in learning more. I want to know everything I can. After all, the children will need to know about both cultures they come from."

"We attended a private school not far from here, but on eclipse days we attended school at a larger shrine. The one we left everyone else at, actually. I..." Mona paused a moment, looking around the familiar shrine they were at now. "I actually skipped those lessons and came here to volunteer. After a few weeks, mammy and pappy got after me, but when I told them what I was doing and we visited here together... Things kind of worked out somehow. I still got all the scripture quotes at the orphanage, but now I'm not so sure I got the same version of the storied lessons as everyone else. I always noticed that the other chicks only looked at each story from one side, but here... I was always encouraged to look at everything from at least three sides."

"And then when it came time for college, I got a full scholarship and a sponsorship for Starfleet from the Embassy's Vulcan Ambassador so I had to stop coming. Without transporter mass transit, I couldn't very well commute from Quen'Quen everyday for two years."

"Heh..." Mnhei'sahe chuckled as she looked around, the nature of her empathic bond giving her a strange sense of deja vu for a place she had never been before that was not unwelcome.

"My sponsor was a recruiter that had made several presentations at the human high school I was at who tried to get me to sign up a few times based on my grades and skill set. I was such... well, I was such a Hueiul hnaev back then that I kept avoiding it or turning it down." The young Romulan woman who never bothered to sensor her use of her native tongue around her bond-mate, referring to herself as a 'stubborn shit', smiled as she drew upon the old memory.

"So, this place was extremely important to you, then? I... can feel that. I can... I can feel you here." She said, running a hand along the surface of an old wooden support. "I'm glad we could come here."

"I can think of no other place I've wanted you to see with your own eyes than this, and with no distractions, no disturbances, no one else around." Without hesitating, Mona gave her bond-mate a quick kiss as they strolled further into the gardens. "Because when I was young, I poured myself into my work here every Eclipseday and now, I pour myself into you the same way."

A wide, unrestrained smile spread on Mnhei'sahe's face as she leaned a little tighter next to Mona as they walked. "What did you do here? WHat kind of work?"

Mona motioned to the blue and white bamboo that lined the fish ponds as well as the iridescent lilies, neon colored hydrangea-like flowers, and giant white carnations that lined the flower beds. "Mostly gardening, but I also installed a new irrigation system and came up with a way to control the baraba pole trees so they wouldn't go nuts in the ponds or flower beds. It also helps keeps the weeds at bay, though the mulch has to be replaced every year, which is hard on the back."

She then motioned to the ponds themselves and the arched bridge going over the main one. "The bridge was starting to collapse so one summer I rebuilt it using the same techniques as the original. It took all summer, but I finally figured out the puzzle box joinery. There's not a single pin or nail in it and it's only held up by itself."

"The small waterfall over there, the spring had dried up so I rebuilt it and designed a small solar-powered pump to bring water up from the well to keep it going at least when it's sunny. The fish..." Mona chuckled softly at the thought of the large gold and silverfish in the pond that looked like large sea chickens themselves. "Well, they live several times longer than people, so I made sure their food source was still renewable. They like tree roots and algae so I made sure the seed nets for them would last as long as possible whenever I could."

"Really, it was mostly outdoors work. The clerics always handled the indoors work. Then when it was time for lunch, we ate on the shrine porch behind the donations box and they'd teach me the old stories while we ate."

"You don't get much outdoors work on a Starship." Mnhei'sahe said, a slight bit of melancholy in the edges of the statement. "Maybe when we get home, we can talk to the Captian about maybe setting something like this up in the arboretum. I'd..."

It was clear there was something on her mind, and as the red-headed Romulan had knelt down to look at the water and they weren't touching for a moment. "When we went to Mol Krun'chi... I had never known I was born there, but... I was raised on that ship. On the Forager. But the Hera is more. It can be a ship but if we... Do you think we can bring some of this home? So they can know it?"

With a nod, Mona smiled softly as she leaned on one of the handrails she had built so many years ago. It was worn down by years of use and darkened with wear to a deep brown with the original blue hidden in veins here and there. "We can get some of the seeds and bulbs from the authorized export stores at the spaceport. We'll have to stop by on our way home."

"The Golden Ghost has a large, secondary storage facility on board, so that would be simple enough. And, I think the Captain will approve. And... I would like to make it happen. I love the ship, I do..." Mnhei'sahe stood back up, leaning back against the railing to face Mona, "But lately. Between going to Mol Krun'chi and now, being here. Suddenly, I don't feel as... uncomfortable as I used to being planetside."

"This is a good place," Mona replied simply, at peace with being home.

Someone else was having none of it though. Three someones, specifically, as they decided it was time to start their final turn towards being born, which made Mona crow slightly. "I need my chair. These three are impatient and starting to want out."

Leaning in, Mnhei'sahe reached up and tapped her commbadge three times in quick sequence and immediately, the chair that they left at the base of the shrine blinked and began hovering on autopilot towards them. Taking Mona's arm and feeling the children through their bond becoming restless. "Briaar designed that thing really well. The programming codes are keyed to my badge. Your engineering skills really rubbed off on her, Mona."

"She just needed a little... urk... nudge... yeah, like that..." Once the chair got to them, Mona carefully sat down into it, albeit a bit less comfortably this time. "I think it's time we made our way back to the others and headed to the orphanage to meet up with mammy and pappy, don't you?"

"Indeed. Let's get back to the transport and get moving, Jhu Dhael." Mnhei'sahe said as she lead her bond-made back to the rented flyer at the base of the hill. As she did, she tapped her badge again and with a chirrup, she spoke again. "Dox to Jablonski. Ladies... it's time."

Having been called on by Starfleet to deliver much-needed disaster relief supplies to the colonists of the Epsillon Scorpii system's second planet, Pwanahn, it seemed Command was taking advantage of the opportunity. As the USS Hera and the USS Tereshkova passed going in opposite directions, a shuttle was launched as a transfer popped up on the PaDD of Commander Rita Paris. Opening the file, she began reviewing the service jacket of the latest crew member being sent by Admiral Meowlith. Or perhaps Admiral Forsyth, who seemed determined to be a thorn in their sides.

It saddened the old-fashioned officer that she was paranoid about such possibilities. But given their current situation, she had to at least acknowledge the possibility that every new crew member was potentially not who they claimed to be- perhaps even if they were. At least in this case it was a billet Captain Telvan had requested, and something of a rare specialization- applied sciences.

"Practical, that's good. Hm. Discipline problem, of course. Loves to tinker, that should work well. Introvert with anger management, little Napoleon complex maybe... hm. Well, at least you'll finally know people shorter than you... ugh," the pretty face frowned as she took a sip of coffee, and her eyes flickered to the chrono in the corner of the PaDD. Seven minutes til the shuttle Regina would be docking; time enough to finish the service jacket and more importantly, the psych evals. Thus Rita resumed scanning and talking to herself, to better organize her thoughts.

"Isolationist... wonnnnnderful. Why lone wolves want to join Starfleet to be stuck on a finite space to interdepend on other people I will never understand. Mmmm, low social skills... at least that should be less of a problem in R&D, although I'll have to warn Mona there'll eventually be a blowup, and to let it play out to a point. Oh, look at that, Earth girl... Cal Tech? Nope, Japanese National Engineering School. Let's see those Academy days..."

"Reassemble a shuttle? Not that impressive a trick with transporter technology, but alright... mmm, forcefield emitter. Might be able to help them work out that intertia field they've been struggling with. Mmm, robot drones, nice, very interesting..." The chrono now read two minutes until the shuttle docked, so it was time to go meet this interesting young woman.

Standing up, the anachronism straightened out and subtly tugged down the hem of the miniskirt of her uniform of an age long ago. Running her fingers through her tomboyish short blonde hair, Rita Paris grabbed a spare PaDD to stack under her current one, then grabbed another just in case. Checking her reflection in the mirror she kept on the back of the door, she made sure the three pips on her deep V collar were even and spaced properly- an example had to be set, after all. Besides, no one could read the rank ribbons on her sleeve as a modern rank, so the pips made things a lot easier on modern Starfleet personnel.

Satisfied that she passed inspection, the extradimensional explorer strode out of her retro and cluttered office, to arrive on the flight deck a moment later. Tapping the old command delta on her rather prodigious left breast, the first officer called out to open space.

"Paris to Hera traffic control. Can we put the Regina down on pad seven please?" As she gave the order, which she phrased as a request, as she often did, the career Starfleet officer strode briskly to the landing pad in question, to be in position when the shuttle arrived.

"Can do, Commander," came the reply, as Paris chose her location to watch the shuttle fly in, privately critique the pilot's landing and wait to meet the new girl, one Lieutenant Junior Grade Haruna Mizuhara.

The rear hatch of the shuttle slowly opened. What awaited the Commander was a rather strange sight. The pilot of the shuttle, cooped up in the front compartment was clearly focusing on his job. However in the rear compartment, there was a different story. A young woman, tiny in frame and stature sat crossed legged in the center of the rear area, several tools dotted around her in a mess and instruments attached to a headband sticking out from the top of her head, one of them some sort of eyepiece which she was using. Her face had the occasional wipe of grease or dirt on it, and her short brown hair could only be described as wacky and messy.

Her gold Starfleet tunic was unzipped, revealing several pockets and small compartments sewn into various sections of the tunic, while also revealing the young woman’s cropped undershirt. She didn't seem to mind being that exposed as she tinkered, and seemed pre-occupied with some sort of device that was now sitting in front of her. Haruna Mizuhara had been stuck on this shuttle since Deep Space Four, so she had brought along her own 'project' to 'play' with en route to stop her from touching anything on the shuttle. Especially after last time, where she had been forbidden to 'play' with the Starbase Shuttles.

One eyebrow slowly rose on the face of the first officer, and a patient smile settled into place as she waited.

"Damn it..." Muttered Haruna as she placed one tool down and picked up another. "Come on..." she said to herself. The pilot of the shuttle had spun around in his chair, and shrugged at the waiting commander as if to indicate that he wasn't sure what to do with the small strange Engineer.

After waiting thirty seconds, counting it off with the beat of her heart, Paris made another mental note about the eccentric engineer- work focused to the point of distraction. Then, in a voice that carried the authority of a Starfleet officer or a den mother, the gold-clad commander called out.

"LIEUTENANT JUNIOR GRADE MIZUHARA. Do you know where you are right now?"

Tools went flying everywhere as Haruna literally jumped right out of her skin. She nearly fell backwards as she was caught off guard. She looked around quickly. Her eyes snapped onto the commander in front of her. She tilted her head slightly to one side, then to the other as if confused.

"Erm..." she said simply looking the commander up and down several times. "Well... you know my name... so I'm on a ship... but..." she was trying to put the pieces together in her head. "Wait, what year is it? Have I screwed up again?" she picked up a tricorder and tapped on it. "Wait...." she said. We've not time traveled. You're not a Time Lord are you.... erm..." she looked at the woman's rank stripes on her sleeves "Commander?"

"Assuming you are expecting to find yourself on stardate 74080, or February of the year 2397 by the old Earth calendar, then no, YOU have not time traveled, Miss Mizuhara," the buxom bombshell in the throwback mod minidress explained. "I can assure you that I am most certainly not a lord of time. I am, as you have correctly observed, a Commander. In Starfleet. You may have heard of us. Semi-military operation on a continuing mission to explore strange new worlds, seek out new life and new civilizations. To boldly go, that sort of thing. Ringing a bell?" The old-school officer explained it all with a benign smile and a casual air that made it seem as though this was a lark, although the shuttle pilot sensed enough danger that he was doing his best to busy himself with something on his control panel.

"Yeah" Haruna replied. She still seemed a little confused. "So, this must be the USS Hera. Do you have a different dress code? Or do we all get to wear the retro snazzy looking uniforms?" she asked with stars in her eyes. She had always been a bit of a fan of the old uniforms; which never seemed to suit her tomboyish personality.

"If you can convince the Captain that there's a good reason for you to wear the retro snazzy uniform, it's always a possibility," the curvaceous commander admitted. "Because yes, this is the USS Hera. Now, according to your service jacket, you did attend and graduate both Starfleet Academy and Officer Training. So when last I checked, when arriving aboard a new duty station, there are certain procedures. Protocols. Traditions. Requirements, even. I don't suppose you are familiar with any of them, Miss Mizuhara? I take it from your reactions and general demeanor such things were not enforced on the Yorktown or the Ranger, hmmm?"

The general demeanor of the old-fashioned officer was still pleasant, but as crewmen worked the flight deck, they were surreptitiously watching the exchange. The Commander greeted all onboarding officers and crew, from the lowliest crewman to the highest of dignitaries... and some of them didn't even make it off the shuttle. Given the patient exchange, it was starting to look like this might be one of those, as the flight deck crewmen kept themselves busy while eavesdropping on the exchange.

Haruna grinned as she rose to her feet. "Aye Commander. I just like my own style, I've found that in Starfleet and other organizations, the 'monkey see, monkey do' attitude just leads to a herd of sheep" she explained with a grin. "I prefer to... colour outside the lines" she added with a smile. She picked up a few of the tools off the floor and began slotting them inside her uniform in custom made pockets and pouches. "Regardless..." she bowed. "Requesting permission to come aboard?"

There was a long pause at that… a rather deliberate one, that stressed that the request was not automatically granted, but instead, being considered. “I appreciate that you prefer your own style and that conformity is not your choice. Your low opinion of discipline, insulting military tradition and lack of respect for the chain of command is noted. I must say, it’s an… interesting choice to make as your introduction to your new duty station, and a new commander.”

Rather than launch into a longer speech to expand upon those points, the career Starfleet officer paused at that, patiently waiting to see what sort of response she would receive.

Haruna blinked a few times, not quite certain how to respond. Yes, she had a few problems here and there with the command structure, but she was a tinkerer and an engineer. "Sorry Commander, but I know most people think of Starfleet as non-militarised..." she replied quietly. She didn't want to start any arguments here in the back of a shuttle. "I'm not your average Officer Commander, most people don't like me because I'm different" she explained. She looked away momentarily at the bulkhead of the shuttle. "Its why I have no friends..." she looked back trying to not tear up. "I'm always the odd one out.."

Taking a step forward, the commander took a bit of the steel out of her voice. "Rank and discipline exist for a reason, Miss Mizuhara. They lend structure. Being the individual is easy so long as there is structure. You call it 'monkey see, monkey do' and 'a herd of sheep'. We call it discipline, respect for tradition and a chain of command. That structure provides the lines of which that you like to colour outside, and without it, we have chaos. There is always room within Starfleet for unique individuals, Miss Mizuhara. But it is WITHIN Starfleet, not without.."

"I want to make a new start here" she said as she zipped up her uniform. "Can I have a chance, please?"

"That, Miss Mizuhara, is entirely up to you," the curious commander in the old-fashioned uniform cocked her head slightly. "You and I have exchanged remarkably few words, yet you have very clearly informed me that you have no respect for the rank structure, tradition, orders, and in point of fact find following any such obligations to be insulting to your personhood. While you clearly have a markedly low opinion any such person who does... which would be your new 751 fellow shipmates, your commander and your captain."

"As of this moment, you have not yet come aboard. So this little conversation is currently between the two of us. Your section chief is not aware you hold her in contempt, capable of only 'monkey see, monkey do'. Your captain does not know you feel she oversees a 'flock of sheep.' Your preference for your own style, rather than military tradition, is currently known only to me. All of your preconceptions and insulting perspectives of the USS Hera and her crew are still on that shuttlecraft right now. If you'd really like a new start, this is EXACTLY the time and place for one. But it won't come from me, Lieutenant Junior Grade Mizuhara. That is a choice for you to make... you see?" By the end of the speech, the buxom blonde was leaned in slightly, there at the base of the ramp of the shuttle. Her voice had softened, and she had a look of anticipation in her eyes... perhaps even hope.

Haruma wiped her eyes with her sleeve, then stood bolt upright like someone had sent an electrical shock through her spine. "Apologies Commander" she said simply. "Its been difficult for me recently, regardless of that. I intend to do my job to the best of my ability. Reporting as ordered". She just hoped that this would be adequate for the Commander to let her finally take up that chance.

'We can talk about difficult," the Commander continued in that gentler tone. "Because we would prefer that your life on the Hera not be difficult, Miss Mizuhara. A little attention paid to military discipline, a little dedication to duty is all we ask, and the eccentricities we can work with, all right? Now, permission to come aboard granted, Lieutenant Junior Grade Mizuhara. Let's get you settled in, shall we?"

Turning to no longer be physically blocking the ramp off the shuttle, the tall Earthling gestured to the pressure doors that led off the flight deck with one hand, while offering a PaDD to Haruna with the other. "Let's chat a bit as we get you to your quarters, shall we? Here's your welcome aboard package, including your quarters assignment, maps of the Hera, limited computer access and some appointments to keep. You need to check into the command in order to have full access, so that means a meeting with the first officer, a meeting with the captain, a physical as well as meeting the chief engineer, as your department head. Once everyone signs off, you'll be checked into the command, and be granted full access for active duty."

"Any questions, Lieutenant?"

"None at the moment... well..." she paused for a few seconds. "I am a little confused, Starfleet didn't exactly tell me what I would be doing on the Hera. I'm an Engineer but they told me that it was a classified matter," she explained simply.

“That remains to be seen,” the curvaceous commander replied with a smile that was not at all unfriendly. “But given your background, you’ll most likely be assigned to our Aerospace Research and Development department, where we’re creating new variable mode starcraft for the 25th century. At least, if I had to hazard a guess. But I can’t say for certain, as Lieutenant Commander sh’Zoarhi may have other plans for your particular skillset.”

Haruna nodded as she walked by the side of the commander, their height very different indeed. "Understood" she said with a smile. She was kind of excited to be getting something different to do, something that not everyone could do.

“We do good work on the Hera, and we’re an... unusual starship. A starship of secrets and wonders, I suspect you will discover. So here are your basic rules of survival, Miss Mizuhara. Expect the unexpected, and be prepared for anything by maintaining an open mind,” the Amazonian first officer explained, if somewhat cryptically. “If there is something out of the ordinary, there is probably a reason for it, and a story behind it. Ask. Explore. Be respectful, of course, but be inquisitive. Ask the questions, seek the answers and grow, learn and evolve. Kind of the point of life, ennit?”

Haruna continued to walk beside the commander. "Yes Sir," she said simply in response. "When should I report for duty?" she asked. She hoped that the commander would be kind enough to give her a day or two to settle in and to familiarize herself with the ship.

The full-figured first officer gave the young woman an askance expression, one of mixed bemusement with an upraised eyebrow. "You have your welcome aboard package, and a list of whom to meet with. I leave it to you to set the appointments, and it is on your own timeline that you complete your check-in and report for duty, Miss Mizuhara. I shall leave that all in your capable hands, and I will come check on you if too much time passes and no one has seen you outside your quarters."

Stopping in the corridor, Paris pointed to the nameplate, which she then touched and dragged down to eye level for Haruna. The LCARS display read:

LT JG MIZUHARA, H

"Welcome home, Miss Mizuhara. Welcome to the USS Hera."

The mid-sized hover-transport that they had rented in the city was roughly the size of a shorter Type-6 Starfleet shuttlecraft and painted in an extremely bright shade of orange with green stripes down the sides. It didn't get much further from the ground than about two meters, but it moved smoothly and handled well. Not even close to Mona's level of engineering could have managed, but it worked well enough as Mnhei'sahe pulled it in to the parking area outside of the orphanage that Mona had grown up in.

As the transport pulled up to the circular, three-story structure with the ceramic tile roof and the blue and while bamboo-like walls peppered with windows, the group that had come from the Hera was already waiting outside. The goddess Hera herself stood in flowing, pale blue robes and almost seemed to glow, flanked on either side by Petty Officer's Liu and Jablonski. Standing next to them were Az'Prel, Jaeih and Doctor Helev t'Liun.

The doctor had a medical bag over her shoulder and a tri-corder already out and ready as the transport powered down and the door opened. Mona Gonadie came out, looking a bit uncomfortable sitting in the custom-designed hoverchair she was using. Behind her was Mnhei'sahe, looking very much like a Starfleet Lieutenant Commander, in spite of the lack of a uniform as she gestured with a nod to t'Liun.

Immediately, the Romulan woman with the short-cropped brown hair stepped over and gave Mona a full scan up and down. "I am extremely glad I asked to come, Baroness… pardon… Commander. They appear to use paper notes and I am unsure as to the level of medical scanning equipment available. This place is beautiful to be sure, but I like being able to perform basic scans."

"Good to know, Doctor." Mnhei'sahe said, rolling her eyes at Helev's bit of sarcasm, "And what do those scans say?"

"The children are turning. The placental barrier is still intact, but its thickness is reduced to point eight millimeters. We're getting close, Commander." t'Liun said as she looked over the data.

Rolling her eyes, Jaeih stepped over and felt Mona's head, which seemed cool and clammy. "Thank goodness you had a tricorder to determine that doctor. Tell me, my dear, how do you feel?"

"I feel like they're ready to pop out. Do you think we should go to the Aeries now? Or should we wait a bit longer?" Mona had at least stopped panting on the ride and hadn't had any contractions other than what she guessed was one, so she'd lost track. "And the scanners are amazing, but you need Miradonian eyes to use them."

"Hmmm." Doctor t'Liun muttered slightly at the comment about Miradonian eyes, a little embarrassed, but she quickly readjusted as she looked at her own equipment and leaned in to look at Mona herself. "I would say that for now, we can let you rest for a bit until that barrier ruptures. The children are simply turning, it appears and according to my studies, it can be anywhere from an hour to two days before they will decide to start their way out."

Standing up, she looked over at Mnhei'sahe and nodded, "However, I would prefer to confer with an expert in Miradonian medicine in this scenario."

"Oooh... We knew you'd be cutting it close," came a familiar Miradonian voice from the house. "We didn't think it would be this close though," came the sound of another voice.

On the small porch Milla and Mardo had waddled out of the large double doors of the old orphanage, side by side, as usual. Mardo had an old medkit in his hands and had pulled the scanner out to look through it. "Doctor t'Luin, correct? Your assessment is correct, though I would put them closer at two days."

Stepping slightly aside as they passed, Jaeih rolled her eyes slightly at the exuberant pair that she had met at Mnhei'sahe and Mona's bonding ceremony.

It was rare that they spoke separately, but when they used knowledge prior to their careers in the orphanage, they did so. It was Milla's turn to do so now while Mardo was occupied. "Welcome, all off you, to the Minay Moon Goddess Home for Wayward Youths. We founded this home after the last great war with the hunters for all those abandoned chicks who had lost their parents."

Mardo then tucked his scanner away and slung the old medkit over his shoulder, the rotund pair pressing against each other and smiling brightly. "After we bonded towards the end of that war, me a field medic, and Milla a bomber pilot, we knew it was a sign from Minay."

"So please, come in and make yourself at home." "There aren't many chicks these days and most are older and spend their days at school." "The few that are here are in the playroom watching one of those kaiju movies that tourists seem to enjoy." Now they were back to their usual back and forth finishing of sentences and thoughts and since they were wearing almost identical work outfits other than Milla wearing a pink and yellow apron they were hard enough to tell apart. "And if you have any medical questions," "Please feel free to ask, Doctor." "I'll do my best to answer them."

"Excellent, thank you." t'Liun said, putting her own tricorder away and raising an eyebrow at the eccentric couple. But before she could say anything more, Mnhei'sahe smiled and nodded at her unlikely in-laws who seemed as wide as they were tall. "Thank you, both. It's wonderful to see you again."

As the entourage filed into the large dining room, they found that their hosts had already prepared refreshments and some finger foods, though a few had obviously been snatched up by the chicks of the house. The chairs were, of course, the open back Miradonian design with extra padding, but at least most of them were built for adults rather than for the chicks. The plates and silverware were actually simple-looking white ceramic - an oddity among all the eye-bleeding colors of the odd world.

One wall was almost completely missing and had a perfect view into the large playroom where about half a dozen chicks of mixed ages were completely engrossed in an old flat 2D movie about a giant fire breathing chicken attacking a city that looked to be vaguely reminiscent of Earth's Tokyo. On the long wall was a giant floral mural of presumably all the chicks that had ever stayed there with Milla and Mordo in the middle with the Miradonian words 'Eat, Pray, Live' scrawled over them in vines and foliage.

Pausing at the mural while the rest of the group kept moving, Mnhei'sahe ran a hand across the images. The painting wasn't so specific that she could pick Mona out of the group visually, but her hand stopped on one image of a chick almost on instinct. For just the flash of a moment, it was as if she could feel Mona through her bond, touching it. As if the mural had a memory of Mona in it that gave the Romulan woman a smile as she caught up.

"We weren't sure what kind of things you liked," "So we just made a little of everything," "Including mona's favorites." "We tried to make a few Rihannsu dishes as well..." "But we couldn't get anything close to the ingredients." "So we tried to improvise." "Goddess willing, it'll all still be at least tasty." And you'll at least have good company."

"Indeed. The effort is greatly appreciated by us all. Thank you both." Mnhei'sahe said with a respectful nod.

"Yeah, it looks like a great spread. Thank you very much for your hospitality." Ethel said as a number of the younger chicks slowly came up to the two-plus meter tall mountain of muscle that had to duck to get through the doorways in the building. As the children nervously approached the subject of their awe, Ethel smiled down at the kids and offered a friendly wave. "Well, hi there. How ya' doing? I'm Ethel."

Meanwhile, Mnhei'sahe couldn't help but notice that the pair was much more emotionally restrained then they had been earlier and rested a hand of Mona's shoulder to express the thought to her through their bond rather than saying anything out loud. 

Mona chuckled softly as she leaned into her lover, replying through their bond that they always got nervous when they had company and this was likely the first time the company was from off-world.

"Everything looks amazing and delicious. The energy you put into it looks particularly blessed. Thank you," Hera commented with a bright smile as another curious, wide-eyed chick came up to her. "And what beautiful children, as well. Hello there."

Looking down, Hera could see the broad, golden eyes of the small, purple plumed Miradonian girl opening wide as she looked at her. Nervously, the little chick fidgeted as she reached hesitantly to the hem of Hera's flowing dress. "H... Hello. E... excuse me ma'am. I was just... you're very pretty. And you glow really bright. The same color as the two ladies in sunmetal, but brighter. So much brighter than everyone else here."

As Hera reached down to pick up the small chick, she grinned brighter, unable to help herself from letting her true brightness shine and all but blinding the poor Miradonians around her. "Well, my dear little one, I was once the goddess of many worlds across the stars, but now I'm old and starting to fade and now I just help out where I can."

As the children blinked in awe, Milla and Mardo stepped away from the table where the group was beginning to collect to Mona's hoverchair where their foster daughter and her Romulan wife were still. And with the group a bit occupied with the children for a moment, they rotund pair of brilliant plumed Miradonian's let themselves have a moment.

"Oh, you two, Come here." Said Milla as Mardo raised their arms and continued the thought out loud, "And give us a hug. We've missed you both."

One at a time, the exuberant birds leaned in as far as their girth allowed to pull both mothers to be into a tight hug. As they did, they continued speaking in the back and forth that Mnhei'sahe noticed was quite common for Miradonian's in a close bond. "Look at you, little Mona!" "Ready to be a mother yourself." "You are just radiant!' we've never seen anything like it!" "Those children are just putting off so much life, it's astounding." "Like staring into the Moon Goddesses radiance itself."

Mona was beaming as brightly as she could. "We've been looking forward to this for so long. We visited the shrine before we got here for a blessing. Plus we have Hera's blessing."

Then, Milla waddled over to Mnhei'sahe, with a warm smile, "And you, come to Mammy. Let us look at you." As she did, the green feathered Miradonian cupped Mnhei'sahe's face in her hands while the red-headed Romulan smiled awkwardly. "Oh, you're ready. I can see it. I can see your bond. SO strong." "You found her, alright, didn't you, little bird?" Mardo chimed in, placing their hands on both women's arms. "Never seen one so strong in a couple where one of the members wasn't Miradonian, but from your glow, you'd never know." "You two are just wonderful." "We're so happy you came here for this." "We can't wait to see you with those chicks!" "You are going to be wonderful mothers." "Just two more days according to the scanners."

"Urp..." Mona's belly visibly tensed and her eyes bugged out as the chicks decided they wanted a piece of the action as well. "Yeah, I have a message from the chicks... Screw your readings, we want out now."

With wide eyes, Mnhei'sahe looked down and put her hand on Mona's shoulder and was almost pushed back physically by the sensation of the chicks through their bond. "Fvadt! Yeah. Yeah. I can feel that."Shaking off the momentary emotional wave of energy from Mona that made her own stomach tighten as if she were carrying the chicks at the same time, the anxious Romulan woman looked towards the table, where the others had stopped and were looking back at them. "Okay. Apparently, these kids have more than enough me in them to be stubborn. They're coming now.

Squeezing Mona's hand, the waves of emotions from the children were almost overwhelming as Mnhei'sahe looked down at Mona, and in that moment with the full force of their three daughters linking the new family. When the Romulan pilot spoke, her Miradonian bond-mate did something they hadn't yet done in their relationship and finished her partner's thought out loud.

"It's time to go..." "To the Aerie."

Just like all the other structures on the planet, this one was also round and had no corners or edges anywhere in sight. Unlike the others, the central building was built of stone and looked to be one of the oldest on the planet. 

It was akin more to a colosseum than to anything else, really. A series of concentric, circular arches and pillars with ivy and mosses growing up from the base, peppered with colorful flowers that grew across the great stone faces of ancient Miradonian figures that stared down over the Aerie with carved, blank eyes. On either side, great circular reliefs in the stonework of the two moons of Miradon, and the two gods of their people: Minay the moon goddess and her counterpart, Nicoo’la the great trickster. 

The structure was a giant stadium of nesting balconies at each level, surrounding a central pit filled with grains and foods for newborn chicks, many of whom were making cooing sounds and flitting about in short bursts of actual flight. There were about a dozen chicks visible from where the group was being led inside, each with a gentle coating of colorful and vivid feathery down. Over the top, though it seemed there was nothing but open sky, there was actually an energy shield in place to keep hunters out and the chicks inside that occasionally shimmered a light wave of golden light when the winds hit it just right.

"Oh my goddess, look at them, Hera! They're so adorable! I just want to squeeze 'em!" the mountainous security officer, Ethel Jablonski said to the radiant goddess at her side, sounding like a schoolgirl seeing a brand new puppy. Petty Officer Liu had stayed outside the Aerie's perimeter to keep an eye out for any potential threats, but remained in constant communication with her security partner. On either side of the group, Az'Prel and Jaeih walked like silent sentinels keeping careful watch over everything while Doctor t'Liun had her tri-corder out, scanning Mona.

Stepping up to Mona, Mnhei'sahe and the group, a pair of orderlies in long, ceremonial robes helped them out of the transport and into the check-in foyer. The processing was pretty quick as they were pre-registered and it was the most modern part of the proceedings, however as they weren't expected for another day, they didn't yet have the nest they were expecting fully cleaned so had to wait a bit as a team did a rush job cleaning it. 

Soon though, Mona was led out to the executive balcony, where she delicately settled into the nest of her ancestors. There was a smaller padded nest in front of her for her bond-mate and bench-style stone seating to either side of her for their guests. Behind her was a rolling nest for the chicks for after they were born so they could be cared for prior to the parents being released.

As Mona settled into the nest, knees in the thick material and belly settling into it, her hiney in the air, she took hold of Dox's hands and smiled happily. "Almost there, my Minay."

Holding Mona's hands, the full strength of their bond was immediately re-established and in that instant, Mnhei'sahe could see was Mona could see. At the same time that her normal Romulan eyes looked upon Mona's deep, amber eyes, she could also see herself through those eyes. And what she saw was staggering. Streams of purple light flowed out of her own body and wrapped itself around Mona like light pulled into a singularity. And from Mona, that same purple light was being enveloped by waves of light from her middle. An impossible rainbow of colors Mnhei'sahe had no words for filled her mind as she was almost blinded by the auras of the children that pulsed rapidly with their Romulan-inspired heart rates.

Nodding, Mnhei'sahe replied with a smile and a tremble in her voice. "I'm here, Jhu Dhael. We're all here. I have you and I'm not letting go. I'm never letting go."

Just then the lights they were seeing flared up and tightened as Mona officially started contractions, forcing a long caw from both of them. At the same time, the swirling colors deep within her began separating out as well, preparing to become their own being. Then, a few moments later, the first contractions passed as the internal 'egg sac' ruptured.

From the stone bench, the others save Hera herself, could see none of the spectacle of light that was entwining the growing family as the two Miradonian birth aids came around, slowly running warm water down both women's necks in a slow, steady trickle. Leaning in slightly, Doctor t'Liun double-checked her own tri-corder readings and muttered an astonished whisper, "By the Elements. I have never seen anything like this before."

Concerned, Jaeih's head snapped around to face the Romulan physician and Mnehi'sahe's second as an Artan Baroness, "What does that mean, Doctor? Are they all alright?"

"Yes. Yes, Mrs. Dox. Yes. The internal sac has opened... but the readings. They are all of them, your daughter as well, biologically in sync. The normal Romulan heart rate is 240 beats a minute. A Miradonian heart rate at rest is approximately 120. Currently, Lieutenant Gonadie, Mnhei'sahe and the three children are... perfectly in sync with all of their hearts beating in unison at 170 beats per minute."

The Romulan physician scanned again and nodded. "Everything. Heart rate, body temperature, galvanic skin responses. All the same across the board."

The matronly goddess Hera spoke up, an almost ethereal tone to her voice as she stared up into the sky at the twin moons. "As we see with bonded eyes, we two and the visitor give blessings upon these that honor the old ways. This is as it should be. This is the natural order." Then, closing her eyes and coming back to the here and now, Hera glanced around the balcony and spoke in a much more normal voice. "Don't worry, everything is normal. Is Rita here yet?"

"Commander Paris is on the Hera. She was unable to make it, hence all of us being here." Jaeih said, almost irritated as she had to just sit and watch without being able to help. She held a hand out towards Mnhei'sahe, but the Miradonian nurse turned and looked at her, gently shaking her head. 

As her stomach twisted in a knot at her inability to do anything, she rested her hands on the stone seat. But as she began to squeeze her fingers into the stone, she instead felt her hands taken on each side. On her left, the Vulcan refugee Az'Prel that was like more than a sister to her took a hand into hers and held it tight. On her right, Hera herself took Jaeih's other hand, offering a warm smile to the Romulan matriarch. "She will be here, Jaeih. Trust me."

But that all went unheard between Mona and Mnhei'sahe as their hands were locked together, both leaning towards each other. Gripping tightly, they didn't move when the robed nursed brought out fresh porcelain pots and poured fresh, warm water over both women's backs. Both now dripping, Doctor t'Liun checked her readings and whispered to Jaeih and the others. "Their core body temperature is dropping, which is indicative of entering the final stage. The children will be coming soon, and the water is to keep them warm. This is perfectly normal for Miradonain couples, apparently, with strong bonds... on their second or third pregnancy."

"But has never been recorded happening with a non-Miradonian bond-mate." T'Liun said with a raised eyebrow.

Listening, Hera simply smiled and closed her eyes, deep in thought while the process continued for another hour. After that last hour, In the center of the nest, Mona and Mnhei'sahe winced in perfect unison, letting out an echoing cawing sound. The two nurses looked at each other and nodded as they looked back. When they did, a third Miradonian woman came out. She was far older than the others, her thick plumage a faded periwinkle blue and her deep-set eyes wide and a vibrant lavender that seemed to glint in the light. "It is time. Take your positions, Nile, Mela."

The two nurses took positions, kneeling on either side of both women and putting their hands out, not quite touching either as all three women began to thrum. The thrumming was soon matched by a thrumming from Mona and the three chicks that began to make the birthing nest vibrate.

It only took a couple of minutes of this before the first of the three popped out almost like a rocket. The elder easily caught the black and red, lightly plumed chick with a soft towel and placed a hand on her back, her thrumming increasing in tempo. "You have declared yourself! Hlai'vana Godox!" With that, the newborn opened her eyes and gave her first squawk and gasp of air before she was wrapped up and set into the newborn nest.

It then took another minute for the next chick to come out, though this time with less force being a gold, extra soft chick. The elder repeated the ceremonial naming process. "You have declared yourself! Amihan Godox!" Rather than a single squawk, she let loose a series of sing-song squawks that almost sounded like she was trying to talk.

After the elder placed Ami in the second nest, she waited for the third to come out, but though the parents did their best, the third all but refused to come out for almost half an hour. Eventually, a blue/green plumed chick made its way out and the elder plucked it from Mona with a towel, placing her hand on its back like the others. Leaning in, it was as if she had to listen closely. "You have named yourself, little one. Tala Godox." The last chick then blinked several times and gave a little cheep and with a smile, the elder placed her in the third newborn nest, wrapped in a fresh towel.

As for Mona and Mnhei'sahe, the ordeal was finally over and as the leftovers finally slid out, they could finally relax. Stiffly, their fingers relaxed a little and their hands slowly opened, and in doing so, their bond finally relaxed. Trembling for a moment, the flumped against each other, gasping as their senses returned both to themselves and to normal. Touching, they could still feel each other fully, but for the first time in months, the sound of their trilling children came from outside. Weakly, they looked over and finally took in the sight of their three chicks, now born and healthy in front of them.

"They are... by the elements, they are beautiful." Jaeih said, as tears bubbled up in the eyes of the generally stoic woman who was now free to kneel over to help keep her daughter and daughter in law from just collapsing completely. "Rest. I have you. You have done well, Mona, my dear. They are beautiful."

"Rest." Jaeih said again, softly, as Mnhei'sahe and Mona lay against each other in the central nest and slowly drifted off to a much-needed sleep, listening to the cooing chirps of their three daughters. "We have you all. B have you all."

Stroking her exhausted daughter's head, Jaeih felt a welling of pride and bliss overtake her as she glanced over to the goddess Hera and smiled.

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

Night fell on Miradon, as the two moons shone their lavender light through the windows of the private nesting chamber below the Aerie where Mona, Mnhei'sahe and their three daughters rested. The padded nest was more than large enough for all five who all leaned against each other. 

The room was a wide, circular chamber with ancient stone walls and bamboo wood doors and window shudders as a gentle, cool breeze wafted in. Just outside in the next chamber, the rest of the party relaxed. Inside the room, Mnhei'sahe leaned over with a soft smile and ran a finger across the lightly fuzzy black and red forehead of Hlai'vana, who let out a trilling coo. "I... I can't believe it's real Mona. Look at them."

"I am. They're more beautiful than I could have imagined," Mona replied, running her fingers gently across the cheek of the bright gold Amihan. "Tala has the same markings as my mother and I think little Vana is going to take after you."

As Mona rubbed Amihan's golden downed cheek, the newborn tot began trilling, which from her began to come out as a rhythmic hum that was melodic and musical. As she did, Tala joined in, with a much more subdued and quiet trill. ON the other side, Hlai'vana's trilling was a deeper, coarser sown, more like a caw that made the other two girls stop for a moment and look at their sister with confused looks on their faces. 

Watching. Mnhie'sahe bit her bottom lip and chuckled lightly. "Definitely taking after me." As she spoke, the redhaired Romulan leaned over to hang her head over her and Mona's daughters.

Looking up, the three chick's eyes were already bright and clearly focused as their irises opened wide looking at their mothers with a look at almost read as awe. All three's eyes were a dark amber brown that almost looked like polished copper in the moonlight. "They have your eyes, Jhu Dhael..."

Then reaching across, Mnhei'sahe ran her fingers across each of the children's faces, tracing the forward curve of their pointed ears. "And my ears." As she did, from the center, Amihan reached her tiny, fuzzy hand up and touched Mnhei'sahe's cheek.

Then almost in unison, all three of them popped out with their first words. "Nona! Nom-nom!"

Chuckling softly, Mona looked deep into her lover's eyes. "I guess it's feeding time. And no, contrary to what the others think, we don't feed them like Earth birds. Can you reach the juja seed meal behind you? They should be able to fly and feed themselves in a day or two, but for now..."

"Heh... Yes, I have it." Mnhei'sahe said, reaching for the ancient-looking ceramic bowl that was sitting on a warming pad on a small end table next to the expansive nest. She had known that Miradonian chicks could speak right away, as their ability to bond with their mothers in the womb made it possible for them to learn at a highly accelerated rate, but it was still amazing to hear for herself. "Here you go."

"Thank you, my Minay," Mona replied as she took the bowl and fed each of the chicks a pinch at a time of the golden mash. For their part, they ate it up like it was the best thing they'd ever eaten. Realistically, so far it was the only thing they had ever eaten. It would be a few months before their tummies could handle anything more than the basic chick foods that were common to either Miradonians or Rihannsu.

Watching, Mnhei'sahe looked anxious watching as if she was anticipating something going wrong. Their bond while touching was still strong, but even without it, Mona could have read that anxiety on her loves face from across the room as she gently took Mnhei'sahe's hand and directed it to take a tiny pinch of the mash and lead her, one by one, to their daughters, who excitedly took their second mouthfuls with happy smiles.

With a nervous chuckle, the red-headed Romulan leaned against Mona and smiled as they watched Amihan, Tala and Hlai'vana eat.

Which was when a pair of the wooden shutters of the room exploded inward, as an armored figure skidded to a halt on their back.

A very familiar armored figure, in EVA armor of the black underbody pressure suit, and gold plates covering a rather impressive physique, on whose left breast was a Starfleet delta that had not been in use for a dozen decades.

"Aw, crap," the armored figure expressed in a familiar voice as she turned and raised an oddly cobbled-together looking rifle of some sort to her shoulder, holding aim on the window she had just entered through. "Don't ask, just stay where you are.... aaaaand..."

The rifle sparked, hummed loudly and ionization crackled across the exterior of the makeshift weapon as it fired what appeared to be nothing. But there was a sudden inrush of air, as a not entirely three-dimensional entity was suddenly consumed in a controlled microsingularity implosion, naked to the human eye.

Retracting her helmet, the rifle vanished from sight as Rita Paris turned to the new mothers and their chicks. "Tala'll be insufferably pleased about that..."

Sheepishly she held up her hands, knowing that behind her were her own security forces, along with Mrs. Dox and Az'Prel, all of whom she suspected wasn't at all surprised by this turn of events. As she waited for the inevitable questions, Rita watched the countdown timer in her visor ticking down.

From the outside, it was Rita... but not quite. The waspish waist was a bit thicker- still narrow, and still she was curvaceous, but less impossibly so. Although it seemed her hips had caught up to her bustline a bit more in the intervening years. There were a few fine lines around the eyes and the lips, from a lot of smiling over time. The hair was still blonde and the eyes an alert bright blue. But instead of the tomboy swagger haircut, her hair had grown out into a style that was still short and functional. But this particular coif was the austere and dignified style of a woman more accustomed to being viewed as a role model. She was not old, but it was clear she was not precisely the woman they knew in the current day- not exactly. Although the bemused expression that her face wore was all too familiar- the expression that came across the face of the lost navigator when the universe took her somewhere amazing.

"Ah, I'm not even supposed to be here today..."

"I told you you'd be here," Hera softly commented with a wink, dozing back off again. "Don't worry, we won't tell you again."

In the wide nest, Mnhei'sahe had literally rolled her body over Mona's, who had rolled over their chicks in a moment of reflexive defense. But now, as the moment had passed, both women had curled back over the children, who all seemed remarkably amused by the entire affair, and the anxious new Romulan mother brushed her bangs out of her face with wide eyes. "Rita!?"

Eyes narrowing, the observant pilot looked the familiar but different woman over. Then, glancing over to her own mother, who was armed with a phaser rifle standing in the doorway with the others, Dox put her arm on Mona's shoulder that immediately conveyed, through their bond, the message of stay here just a second.

Climbing off the bed, the young new mother was still physically drained from her unexpected part of the birth where the link made it feel as if she had been as involved in the physical act as Mona had been. She stepped over to her friend who was clearly the same woman, but a bit different as well, and raised an eyebrow. "What... did you just shoot? And... what's... going on?"

There was only a little confusion in the questions, but for the woman who was friends with the unknown and the impossible, there was also a bit of understanding in Dox's deep, brown eyes, as Rita could see the mind behind them working out all the possible options.

"Hunters..." Mona just muttered as she nodded solemnly and resumed feeding the chicks as if it was a perfectly normal thing.

"Chronal hunters," Rita explained, then shook her head. "It's... a Rita story, as you like to say. Petty Officers Jablonski and Liu, yes, I know what my armor ID says on your HUDs, so please delete your recordings of this event, and it really needs not to go into the official record. Please don't tell me I was here, as I was blissfully unaware that I party crashed this blessed event, up until now. But since I am..." Rita stepped forward, arms open to offer a hug to Dox. "Welcome to motherhood, you two. And happy lifeday, you three! Oh, the adventures you'll have..."

Looking at this strange, somewhat older version of Rita Paris, Mnhei'sahe chuckled lightly and returned the hug. "Well, you said you would do everything you could to be here, and in true 'Rita Paris' fashion, here you are."

Stepping out of the hug after a long moment, Dox shook her head and then looked at the two Petty Officers who looked ever so slightly unsure of exactly what they should do, given the particularly unique scenario in front of them. With a confident smile and a nod of confirmation, however, the Romulan Flight Chief silently assured them that this was Rita Paris and to do as she had asked. Then, she turned back to the older version of her bond-sister with eyes just a little teary. "I am so glad to see you, Rita. That... one way or another... you could make it. Thank you."

"Just a few years late, but... I'm glad I'm here after all. Hello Mona, it's good to see you and the girls. Well, lest I violate the temporal prime directive even further- my argument is going to be that this is a predestination paradox, and given that the Hunter was doing so chronally, it would have irrevocably changed the past from it's predestined course. Angstrom's gonna love this," Rita rolled her eyes imaging in it. "Alright, countdown timer is almost done. I left myself WAY too much time for this and... Ethel, Li, Jaeih, Az'Prel... be well, all of you."

"You too, Admiral," Jablonski replied before there was a rippling in space, like a Doppler wave that centered on the torso of the golden armored adventurer and radiated outward as she stepped back away from everyone. Eyeing the effect, Rita Paris muttered to herself, "Here's hoping I don't get lost on the way back..."

Then with a sound like a sheet of tin wobbling in the wind, the visitor from a potential future vanished, as if she had never been there in the first place.

Staring at where Rita had been standing a moment ago, Mnhei'sahe's shoulders dropped a little as the moment passed, the adrenaline of the moment starting to wear off and the deep fatigue settling back in. Turning to the others in the doorway, the red-headed Romulan took a breath. "Admiral. Well, that's not a massive surprise, really. Anyway, it appears like everything is under control."

Turning back to the nest where Mona had the three children held tight in her arms, Mnhei'sahe nodded. "The nurses will be releasing them tomorrow and we can go back to the hotel, but until then, have a good night, ladies. Thank you, again."

Smirking ever so slightly, Jaeih met her daughter's eyes and nodded as she picked up the cue. "That is our cue to give them their privacy, ladies. We will all be able to fawn over the children in the morning after we've all had a good night's sleep."

Gesturing to the door, Jaeih led the others out as Ethel leaned back and waggled her fingers in a wave at the chicks, who replied by holding up their hands and squeezing them in a sort of half-wave as Jaeih got them out of the room and closed the door behind them. And once the door was shut, the elder Romulan grandmother straightened up and her softened voice returned to normal. "Well, that was unexpected, which is wholly unsettling. So, Miss Jablonski, as the ranking security officer, I defer to your recommendations for our next rotation."

Still in the EVA Armor that she had activated the second they heard those shutters smash open, the mammoth maiden of muscles tapped some instructions into the control panel on her wrist. "I'm increasing my suits sensors to expand the scans for tachyon disruptions and quantum flux distortions. Doc t'Liun, could you keep up intermittent medical scans of the room. Keep an eye on their vitals. Liu, you're on the other end of the corridor. I'm on door duty. Miss Az'Prel, Mrs. Dox, you can take turns getting some shut-eye, but I'd like one of you at least walking the perimeter for the Aerie. Check back in an hour and we rotate. Sound like a plan?"

The unexpected team of women all there to see to the protection of the new family in the other room had little intention of resting anytime soon as they all agreed and got to work with silent nods. Meanwhile, her keen Romulan ears picked up the activity in the out there, Mnhei'sahe chuckled and walked over and re-closed the shudders. "Well, that happened, Mona. Are you all okay? The children seem none the worse for wear, other than being wide awake now."

The brightly plumed avian nodded, still feeding the hungry chicks. "Yeah, wide awake and hungry. I think they'll want to try flying after this as well. If Rita of our time asks if she was here, I'll leave answering that to you. I don't want to lie to her."

"I'm not the best liar, especially where Romulans are concerned, but I can keep it to myself if I need to." Mnhei'sahe said as she stepped back over to the nest where her family lay. Slowly and gently, the exhausted new parent tucked herself in next to Mona and the girls. "Besides, temporal mechanics mean that we just met A future Rita, not automatically our future Rita, so I'm not overly concerned. If there's one thing I've learned in the last few months is that nothing is actually set in stone."

"After all, who would have ever predicted that I would be here with the most wonderful woman there is. With our three, amazing, beautiful children." Mnhei'sahe said as she rested against Mona and ran her hands through the chicks feathered crowns one at a time. "I never would have thought it... possible."

As she spoke, it was clear that she was starting to fade as the thrumming of the children soothed her. With a smile, Mona understood full well. While she physically endured the process, the depth of their bond was so strong that Mnhei'sahe experienced it all through her and it had drained the young Romulan just as much as it had Mona herself. It was a shared experience, and it seemed that that bond was being used by their newborn childred to full effect. Slowly, softly and gently, Amihan, Hlai'vana and Tala thrummed in unison as the newborn family drifted off to a much needed sleep together.

In the rounded, stone-walled chamber in the Aerie on Mona Gonadie’s home-planet of Miradon, the new family slept. In the center of the large, circular padded nest in the far end of the recovery room, Mnhei’sahe Dox was in a deep sleep, With one arm around her bond-mate, Mona, the two new mothers slept in a semi-circle as, in the center of the nest, their three newborn daughters slept.

The wide nest was designed specifically with cradle-like indentations for the three girls, Amihan, Tal and Hlai’Vana, with a sort of intended rig around them for the parents to sleep safely, but still close enough to touch. And all three were touching as the lavender light of the planets moons streamed in the windows.

Just outside the room, the entourage from the Hera took turns sleeping, with Petty Officer Liu currently guarding the main chamber and the others taking up different positions throughout the area. But in the recovery room, the new family was alone and there were no sounds to be heard, other than the wind gently blowing across them as they slept.

But still, Mnhei’sahe stirred. Slowly, her eyes opened as if she heard a voice. A familiar voice calling her name from a great distance, faint and barely there. Gently, the young Romulan pilot pulled her arm from where it rested just behind Mona’s back as she scooched off the edge of the nest. The stone floor was cold against her bare feet as she groggily got up. And again, she could swear she had heard her name.

“Mother?” She whispered ever so faintly as she raised an eyebrow and looked towards the door to the antechamber where the others were staying for the night. Bright light shone in from under the crack of the old, wooden door. Grabbing the light green robe she had brought with her, the red-headed Romulan wrapped it around her as she looked back down at Mona and their children with a smile, and again came the faint voice. “Mother, is that you? What’s wrong?”

As quietly as she could, she stepped across the cold, stone floor as she went to the door. The light coming from under the door seemed as bright as daylight even though it was still night, as she gently and slowly turned the old, metal latch and opened the door just enough to slip out and close it behind her quickly, not wanting to disturb Mona and the children.

Wincing on the other side, it was impossibly bright and with sleep still in her eyes, she raised an arm to cover her face as her eyes quickly adjusted to the light. But what she saw, wasn’t the ancient stone antechamber where her friends and family were staying. Her arm in front of her face wasn’t draped in thin, green silk anymore, but in the crimson sleeve of her Starfleet uniform. Her feet weren’t bare on cold stone, but warm in her boots. And what should have been an old Miradonian room looked completely different, but also extremely familiar.

The light streamed in through the greenhouse-style windows across from her where she could see a well-tended garden outside. And beyond the garden, a small lake with rolling hills on the other side. Blinking in disbelief, she looked around as her eyes adjusted. She was standing in a kitchen. A large 'chopping block' table surrounded by six sturdy clearly handmade chairs was the centerpiece of the kitchen and on the walls on either side were framed photos, holographic displays, models of Starships and a blue Starfleet uniform on a curvacious mannequin form from the same era as Rita Paris’ uniforms.

Stepping slightly forward, Mnhei’sahe turned around for a moment, and the old wooden door was different now, but she knew it all the same. She had stood in this room only once before, but the details of it were burned into her mind. And as she looked at that door that she didn’t want to open, for fear of what she might see inside, she suddenly felt like she wasn’t alone in the familiar room that she now remembered to be in Glenlochy, Scotland on Earth. Light years away from where she was just a moment earlier.

Her mind raced for a moment that it had to be a dream, but in all her life, she had never experienced a dream as vivid or as real as this. No dream where she could so distinctly feel the cold stone of the floor. No dream where light pierced her eyes so, or felts so warm on her already warm, Romulan skin. Whatever this was, it was more than a dream. At least a normal dream. Turning slightly, she spoke softly, the name of the woman she had met in this room some five months ago shortly after her abduction by the Tal’Shiar.

The woman, who in a single day, had made herself a part of the young Romulan officer’s heart. “Char?”

"Oh, this won't do at all," came a voice that was perhaps familiar, but not quite as she remembered it.

"Not the end of the story, but perhaps more in the middle," came the voice from behind the redheaded Romulan. As Dox turned, she was no longer in that quint country cottage, but on the dark bridge of a Starfleet vessel, of another era. The bridge sounds were loud, the decor was dark blues and black monitors, and there in the center chair, a cloud of holographic screens hovering about her, was the Romulan Starfleet admiral whose death Dox had attended. But this was not the old woman on her last day on Earth, but the woman in her prime- skin unlined and smooth, figure rather impressively abundant, even in the maroon duty jacket over a white turtleneck, with a black leather skirt and black knee boots.

It was the era of Admiral Kirk, the beginning of the uniforms that would be worn by Starfleet for the next 70 years. The bridge, Dox recognized from her studies, was a refit Constitution-class, circa 2293. Although those holodisplays were not in use on modern starships- clearly a customized element of the Captain's chair. Looking out from beneath those sharp brows, those violet eyes were sharp and quick. A close mouth smile graced the left side of the woman's lips, as an eyebrow rose on the same side. It made her look as though she were smirking, which her head tilt of curiosity just emphasized.

"Hello, Mnhei'sahe. How's life?" asked the dead woman.

The woman Mnhei'sahe had met those 5 months past was decades older, a woman of closer to two hundred years.  But this was Captain Charybdis MacGregor, born Scylla Charvanek, as Mnhei'sahe had only seen in the holos on the wall of her cottage, and in their all-too-brief journey to the elder Romulan woman's past. Pausing for just a moment to take in the utter unreality of what she was seeing, as vivid as any holodeck recreation she had ever entered, the younger woman who now only looked a little younger comparatively looked at the woman in the command chair and replied, anxiety in her voice, "Life? Right now, life is... life is very good."

"Congratulations are in order, are they not? Triplets... your wife must be insanely relieved to be free of such a burden. I bore twins twice, but triplets... I shudder to imagine." The seemingly bemused woman in the captain's chair idly checked a few of the displays as she spoke, her mind keeping up with a few tasks at once, even here in this limbo between worlds accessed by a dream. A creature of habit she was, and obsessive in her pursuit of the details in the aesthetic.

Stepping slightly towards the side of the chair, somewhat hesitant to approach as she still didn't quite understand what was happening, Dox nodded but still allowed a light smile to crease her cheek at the question from her friend. "Thank you. And yes, she's... quite relieved. Emotionally and literally, of course."

"What's happening, here, Char? This... this isn't just a dream. I'd know. I'd feel it." The young pilot said, trusting her intuition and feelings, to say nothing of the training of her mental discipline with Sonak. But as she spoke, she took a moment to listen to those feelings and felt another, more familiar, presence. A presence she felt when Char was about to pass on those long months ago. "This is... really you, isn't it?" 

"This," the Chesshire Captain grinned, gesturing about her, to the memory of a starship long since gone which now surrounded them, "is courtesy of one of your 'friends in high places'. She visited me the same day as you and Liviana, and I still had some... misconceptions to clear up with you, I realized. An aevhhl aehallh... a restless ghost, with business still amongst the living. So I asked him to let me take a moment with you, and he chose the where and when. Death, it seems, is willing to oblige the occasional polite ghost."

"All in all, she's actually quite nice." Dox said with the lightest of smiles, her feelings proven correct, "Though she does seem to prefer the late-night visits. At least she didn't send her horse, Taxes, to wake me up. That's... an unusual way to wake up, having a ghost horse breathing on you impatiently."

Chuckling slightly at the unorthodox memory, Dox began to relax as she ran a hand across the edge of the helm console, amazed at how real everything felt to her. "So, this was your ship, right? The Victory? Why are we here to talk about whatever it is you needed to say?"

"Ohhh... because this right here," Char stretched in the command chair, an act very clearly one she remembered well. "This was my favorite place. I wasn't here for that long, really- I captained her for only eight years. But they were eight of the best years of my life, and simultaneously the worst. But that's the way of things, isn't it? Always with the best of times, you get the worst of times as well. But here... this was all I'd ever wanted, and I got it. She was a marvel a beauty, tougher than duranium and faster than most ships in the fleet. You'd be surprised at what is standard now, that wasn't so standard back in my day. A lot of that innovation came from Montgomery Scott... but my Chief Weaver definitely made some very critical changes to a lot of warp theory and application."

"This old girl, though..." the captain of a century ago patted the armrest with genuine fondness, the love she felt for her starship plainly evident upon her face. "I was in command when she rolled out of Utopia Planitia, and I beamed out when she was in her death throes, only because Carlow and T'vyn intervened. I'd have gone down with her, if they'd let me. She was my only command posting, and I even named her." The buxom beauty was clearly lost in reverie for a few seconds, then she refocused on the moment. "But, I have an eternity to relive old memories. You still have a life to get to, so I suppose I should get to the point, shouldn't I?"

Looking up from the helm, Dox smiled and nodded. "I truthfully don't mind. I... like to hear the stories. But I am more than a little curious as to just what you wanted to talk to me about."

"Do you know why I gave you that sword, Mnhei'sahe?"

Immediately, Dox's stomach tightened as she thought of it. The sword of S'task, forged by the Vulcan swordsmith S'harien in the ways of the old Vulcan smiths before the time of the sundering. Taken from the senate chamber on Romulus in a timeline that no longer existed, it had been rendered little more than a temporal copy, but it still represented so much to the young Romulan pilot. "You... called it a gift. From one generation to the next. You said that it didn't obligate me to anything."

Looking out the memory of the Victory's viewscreen towards the dream of the final frontier in Charybdis's mind, Dox pursed her lips a moment as she thought. "You said... you said I understood what it represented. That I was... the future."

The words reverberated in her head: 'the future'. Her grandmother had caller her the same things, and if Char knew it or not, she took up a very similar place in the young Romulan woman's mind and heart.

"I did. Because in the linear march of time, you are moving into the future, while I no longer do so. Ergo, you are the future." In this moment, the bit of her that had pretended to be Vulcan all those years was clear as Dox smirked a bit at the performance. "Once I passed the veil, I learned... so many are pulling you in so many directions. Which in turn reminded me I didn't teach you the most important lesson I learned in my life."

"Which is?" the younger, and decidedly still-alive Romulan woman said, with genuine interest as she stood a bit more erect and attentively.

"Do it your own way," the sharp-browed commander leaned in as she spoke, to emphasize her point. The uniform really wasn't flattering on her, and in that moment Dox realized this particular uniform wouldn't have flattered Rita much either. "Choose your own path, and stick by your choices. Be flexible, yes, but you owe none of these forces in your life- the ghost of the last generation, the Senator who wants a successor, the Starfleet officer who wants to pass on traditions, the Pirate empress who wants someone with empathy by her side. Death himself- yes, I know he's listening, but he granted the audience, I'll speak honestly. The dead have no need for subterfuge nor subtlety, after all."

"All of them want their dreams for you, and like a dutiful daughter seeking approval from her mother, you scramble to try to make them all happy. More and more to the detriment of your own happiness. I see you stalling things with the Artan doctor who refuses to believe she's in command. You're just spinning plates on poles and you know it, trying to keep everyone happy while you stall to figure out what you want."

"But here, tonight- it's clear, isn't it?" Charybdis leaned back in her chair and smirked again. "I came all the way from the afterlife to tell you to make your own fvadt self happy, and you've already figured it out this very night?!?"

"It's clearer, Char." Mnhei'sahe said honestly, with a nod. "I'd be lying if I said it was completely clear. And I'd be lying if I said you were wrong. I..."

"I do want that approval, I suppose. Sometimes, I legitimately crave it." she continued, tracing a hand across the back of the chair to the helm position she was standing by as much out of habit as it was right in front of the Captain's chair. It was much closer than it was on the Hera's bridge- two stride. She could see the logic in the captain being able to step in and man any position quickly, thus one of the driving concepts of the circular bridge plan. Along with putting the Captain at center, where all reports would be easily heard. "With Enalia and Rita, who seem very at odds with what they expect from me, but both also clearly having expectations. With my Mother, who is legitimately trying to make things right between us. With Rei, who tells me that the choice is mine while putting me in situations where my sense of responsibility tells me I have no choice."

As that last bit, Mnhei'sahe looked up with an awkward grin, knowing full well that Rei was listening and that the revelation was hardly all that surprising among the two of them. But the moment was also a way of stalling, and Char knew it as she raised an eyebrow towards the next generation, waiting for the rest. Taking a breath, Mnhei'sahe stiffened ever so slightly as she let the rest out.

"And... the senator. My grandmother." Mnhei'sahe shook her head as she thought of it. "I mind-melded with her. I know that in her mind, she genuinely and sincerely believes that what she wants for me is what she thinks is best. And it would be the easiest to just turn my back on that and on her. She's on a planet that legally I just can't go visit any time I want, even now with all the strings she's pulling to try and make it possible. I could just stop replying. Let someone else take over as her representative. But I don't."

"Even now, with three very strong reasons to focus on them and our lives... I'm still feeling pulled." She admitted, shaking her head. "Feeling pulled to do what I think is right, yes. To do everything that I CAN do. But... you're right. I am doing this, ultimately, because I want that approval. I want that home that was denied to me. I want a grandmother to be proud of me. I want what I never had growing up, and knowing that it's suddenly possible... suddenly no longer just a child's dream... makes it that much stronger a pull."

"If I may, let me offer what I learned... and perhaps what I came back to impart, who knows.," the cheerful woman grinned, and it was a predatory expression that Mnhei'sahe had seen on the face of Enalia Telvan more than once. "My own children... were very precocious, and they grew up very, very quickly, thanks to my own genetic tampering that passed itself on to them... all f them, and even my further descendants, according to Liviana."

"But from Fiona and Raibert, while Qurka Qurg was a kind, patient and loving governess, and their father was there for them... they missed me, during those early years. And the middle years, and most of their childhood, really. I was off busy battling the Romulan infiltrations, trying to save the Federation and stabilize the galaxy, then deal with the fallout and stabilize Starfleet, all while dealing with all of my losses. Which in turn made me distance myself from the very ones I was fighting so hard to ensure their future." That smile had faded, and now the curious captain's face wore an expression of profound regret.

"I could have been there for them, let the universe turn, let others tilt at those windmills. But I didn't," Charybdis MacGregor, the coming storm, the one the Tal-Shiar had named Kholhr Saidere, the 'vengeful invention' shook her head, here in her prime in her seat of command. "In the end, neither of them were very... warm... people. I never truly repaired my relationship with my firstborn, and even making up for it with the children who came later only caused them to resent me more. Even Raine said it was hard on him, watching the kids grow up, and trying to manage it without me. So... perhaps that's part of my message as well. Focus on what's important. Fight for the future, yes- but be there for them, because they need you, all four of them."

At that moment, Mnhe'sahe's thoughts went to her own mother. Who raised her to be a pilot and a fighter and a warrior, but forgot to let her be a child. Who chose to be a commander rather than a mother. As that went through her mind, she fingered the pips on her chest of the uniform she was wearing in her mind in this dreamscape and what that meant. What that represented. Then, her mind returned to the children, back out there where somewhere, her sleeping body was holding them and Mona tightly.

"We've... fought, perhaps more than we have done anything else, until recently," she said, a tremble in her voice. "I hated her for everything about my childhood. And I hated myself for still wanting her to love me the way I wanted to be loved. Now... it's... nice. It's nice now that she's changed for the better. That she's been here with me and made such a concerted effort to be better than she had been for so many years."

"But, she left my father when she had to choose between her career and life with him. Then she left the world where I was born, all in search of more. And while she dragged me along with her, she also left me very alone." The tremble got deeper in her already raspy voice. "I... I can't do that. I can't be for them what she was for me and hope they'll forgive me when it's too late."

Sitting in the chair at the helm she had been standing by, Mnhei'sahe's shoulders sank, feeling so much heavier in that moment. "How do I do it, Char? How am I supposed to do everything? Be their mother? Mona's wife? An officer? Everything? How do I decide to focus on what's important... what I want and just... pretend that I don't have other responsibilities as well?"

"Prioritize. Number one, stay alive. never forget that one, because if you're dead you have no priorities. Well, next to none, it would seem," Charybdis amended, given her current undead state. "Number two, your mate, Number three, your family. Number four, the job. It took me years to figure that out. Now, what the job entails- that, you have to figure out for yourself. But all of these people who want you to lead their lives are NOT you. Don't live for them."

"I gave you the Sword of S'Task not to be a responsibility, but a reminder," the Romulan super soldier in her prime explained. "Keep it safe, yes, because it is precious. But it was never meant to make you feel this crushing weight of responsibility. On the contrary, it was to remind you that all that grand and glorious cosmic adventuring can turn to dust. What really matters is family, friends, and the lives that you touch. That was most definitely on my list of wisdoms to impart from the wings of Al'thindor."

Taking the advice in, Mnhei'sahe sat there for a moment. Sitting there, listening to the hum of the fantasy engine and the rhythmic beeps of the phantom consoles around her, a thought dug its way from the back of her mind. "You said... it took you years to figure it out. When you did... when you were back in Glenlochy, on Earth. In your cottage, were you eventually... happy?  More or less?"

"Probably the happiest I was my entire life. Liviana..." The buxom woman inhaled deeply, then sighed. "She just didn't understand that home and hearth, tinkering with my inventions and keeping up with the kids and grandkids was more important to me than anything else. I was a Romulan with a projected lifespan of double my husband's. How would it have honored him for me to take leadership of his clan that has stood for a millennium? No, ceding the house and lands were an easy choice. Glory and titles... those aren't what you remember at the ends of the day."

"My own mother, Liviana, was a hero of our people, brave and bold and true. Her fortunes rose and fell more than once, and she dedicated her life to serving the Star Empire. I am proud of her, and her service. Yet when I think back to that little girl who cried herself to sleep at night, wishing her hero mother would come rescue her from the awful and overwhelming life she was thrust into..." Charybdis shook her head sadly. "I forgot that lesson with my own children, and I did the exact same thing... and missed out on their entire childhoods. They grew up resenting Starfleet, because that's what took their mosar... their mama away from them."

"All they got from me was the lullaby I remember my own mother singing to me, which I sang to them in the womb," Char explained, then wound her hand as she realized that, like many of her stories, the explanation required an explanation. "I was telepathic when I was pregnant with the firstborns, and they were too, so... well. Don't let 'Flaihh Arhva' be your only contribution to their childhoods, hm?"

Raising an eyebrow, Mnhei'sahe tilted her head slightly. While she knew that 'Flaihh Arhva' meant 'Remember me' in Federation standard, the song was unknown to her. "Uh... My mother... she was never one for lullabyes. I don't... I don't know that."

There was a bit of embarrassment in her voice as she admitted that she didn't know.

"Then let this be a gift that may actually serve you better than that sword you keep hidden in your closet," Charybdis offered with a smile. "It's a song of being apart, and wishing you could be there... it's why my mother favored it." Inhaling, when she opened her mouth, a surprisingly clear and soft voice issued forth, as she gently sang the words of the Romulan lullaby.

Remember me
Though I have to say goodbye
Remember me
Don't let it make you cry
For ever if I'm far away
I hold you in my heart
I sing a secret song to you
Each night we are apart
Remember me
Though I have to travel far
Remember me
Each time you hear a sad guitar
Know that I'm with you
The only way that I can be
Until you're in my arms again
Remember me

When she'd finished, the violet-eyed vixen had tears in her eyes, and her smile was one that was wresting with emotion as she did so. "I think... maybe that was why I needed one more stolen moment with you, child. Because my mother was never there, and I was never there... all we left for our children was a lullaby to comfort them. I had to leave you too... so now I leave you this. To remember me."

"Remember the life I led, and the mistakes I made, and my choices. Then do what's right for you and that feathered wife of yours and those three adorable little chicks who will be warbirds before you know it. You owe none of us anything, Mnhei'sahe. This was your life- now it is their lives. No greater responsibility to the galaxy than being a good and present parent for your children... because they ARE the future." Wearing a sad smile, Captain Charybdis MacGregor of the USS Victory, the ghost of a woman on the ghost of a starship, reached out from the past to help guide the future, by reaching out her hand to Lieutenant Commander Mnhei'sahe Dox.

Standing there, tears had welled up in Mnhei'sahe's eyes as well, her arms stiff and trembling in that moment, realizing that her time with this woman who she had only known for a day, but who meant so much to her, was nearing its end. 

Thinking about everything she had just heard, and every lesson she had just been imparted, the young Romulan woman followed her heart and stepped in past the offered hand, putting her arms around Charybdis and pulling her into a hug, as the tears broke free. With a cracking voice, Mnhei'sahe whispered, "I will. I will never forget. I swear to you, I will always remember you."

"Then truly I am blessed with immortality. For what greater reward than to be remembered?" Charybdis whispered back, and through the tears as she held Mnehi'sahe tightly, the bridge of the ancient starship, and the ghost of the heroine whose deeds would never be known, both became the mist and haze of awakening. Thus Mnhei'sahe found herself back in the nest on Miradon, as if the visitation had never occurred. 

But the fresh tears in her eyes, and the sensation of warmth she felt in her heart reminded her that it had. Looking over, with her arm still draped protectively over the chicks as she drew her wife closer to her, she bit her bottom lip and wiped her eyes with a sniffle. As she did so, almost in unison, the three girls slowly opened their big, soft eyes to look over at her.

Gently, Mnhei'sahe looked down at them with a smile stretched across her face. With one arm, she held her sleeping bond-mate, who was trilling gently in the soft moonlight. With her other hand, she began stroking the chick's cheeks one at a time as she whispered softly to them, "Shhh. It's okay. I'm okay. Just go back to sleep, shhh."

As she looked down at the big, copper-colored eyes of Amihan, Tala and Hlai'vana, she couldn't help but smile as she stroked their cheeks, and realized that Charybdis was right. This family in this nest was her world... and she knew she needed to be better, for all four of them now. Then, in that soft lavender moonlight, she began softly to sing.

"Flaihh arhva..." 

Dr. Mah walked into sickbay with a smile and new energy about her with a bag in hand. She walked into her office in sickbay and started adjusting things in the office and brought out a few items from the bag. The first was a beautifully carved humanoid hand holding a heart that was an artistic blend of anatomical and figurative design. The second were a stack of frames containing some awards Dr. Mah hung on the wall as well as pictures spanning her time at the Academy and her years as a civilian doctor on Earth. She went outside of her door and changed the art to a beautiful piece depicting various species rare anatomical forms draped beautifully in warm golds to deep browns. Between that and the cheerful pops of color from her large antique style glass jars of lollipops labelled in various flavor profiles scattered around small tables instead of plants or other decor it had a unique feeling that reflected the current Chief Medical Officer.

She went to her office to address her next concerns, how to deal with the incoming babyboom that was going to occur slowly over the next year or so depending on the crewmember and the due dates. She had to be prepared for anything and wanted to ensure all contingencies were planned for. Her second was the potential new medical staff member she would be receiving if they passed Commander Paris' review, that one could wait, for now, the baby issue. "Dr. Power, might I consult with you please on a matter when you have a moment?"

"Of course, Doctor Mah," the holographic Doctor Power replied as he finished up sterilizing a set of sample containers and setting them back in storage. With his ever-present mild British accent and a cheerful smile, he came around the sanitation station to speak with her properly. "What may I assist you with?"

Dr. Mah smiled at Dr. Power, "I want to ensure we have a triage plan for the upcoming births so they go smoothly as possible. Do we have a breakdown of current prenatal schedules, outstanding risk factors per patient, estimated due dates, preferred birthing plans as well as contingent plans, estimated induction methods preferred for those using them, aftercare plans, nutrition plans, partner's support training regimen schedules, replicator dietary schedules set up as well as the standard setups for the sickbay birthing fields? I also want to review any outstanding cases where genetic intervention has or will be needed during gestation for the higher risk patients since we have such a varied mix of genetic combinations going on. I can't imagine there have been no complications in the pregnancies thus far." She looked up from her PaDD to Dr. Power for verification on all the possible combinations of issues that could arise during so many births in unison from various combinations of species. She looked back down at the plethora of data before her. "Obviously we have a bit of leeway with differing gestation periods however I want to ensure every mother gets our full attention on their special day. Also, we need to check into any cultural aftercare ceremonies that need our care. I know you are programmed to handle all required ceremonies from a basic bris to more complicated cultural inclusionary ceremonies when proper representatives are unavailable is that correct?" She knew she was throwing a great deal at him, but her resources were slim and her patients needed top care so she would rely on Dr. Power with heartfelt gratitude in this issue.

She placed her PaDD down, "I realize I am placing a great deal on your shoulders Dr. Power and I greatly appreciate your help with this." She smiled at him warmly, thanking the man for his wisdom and insight to a ship she was still learning.

"I have one correction, actually. I am able to perform almost all required ceremonies. Apparently, Miradonian births require they retreat to their homeworld still and seek blessings and..." Doc Power shook his head as he picked up a PaDD and tapped at it. "There's a lot of energy and mysticism involved that I would have loved to have seen, but as the mother can see right through holographic entities like myself, my expertise was sadly limited to the more mundane medical roles."

"As for the rest of your inquiries, Doctor Dael and I, with the aid of Nurse Vimes, have a running document of all those with child and all of their needs and desires, including dietary, genetic, religious, training, exercise, as well as pertinent risk factors and due dates so that we're prepared at all times." He then handed off the PaDD to Tova to examine the data for herself. "There's also history of past... complications. Most notably with Minerva O'Dell being the apparent daughter of Zeus and a female minotaur and with Hermione Zeyes, who was... Blessed? Sort of? By Hera, the... ah... Earth goddess of women and motherhood as I understand it, so that she was born as a female to save her life. There are some lesser complications such as copper and iron-based blood not mixing well or iron and sulfur based bloods... That was tricky to work out, not to mention trying to match up the DNA..

Dr. Mah looked over the scheduling plans as well as contingencies for the upcoming births on the PaDD. She spoke to Dr. Power as she continued reviewing the genetic overviews of the unborn children, "So who is attending the Miradorian birth? I'm not seeing a medical plan here after they leave the Hera, do they have someone planetside we will be receiving medical updates from so we can follow up? Obviously, we want to ensure the babies well being," she sighed, "it always makes nervous having high-risk patients traveling in such delicate conditions." Her face was pinched in obvious worry.

"I expressed some concerns as well, however, I interviewed Doctor Helev t'Luin, commander of the Artan vessel transporting Lieutenant Gonadie's party to Miradon and as the Godox family's Artan physician, she has familiarized herself with their needs and seems quite capable." With a slight chuckle, Doc Power continued. "In fact, she seems to be as much a stickler to detail as any Federation physician."

She looked over the rest of the data, "Dr. Power, I'm reviewing the data and the notation of some of these cases," she looked up at him confused, "some of these pregnancies should not have been possible without medical intervention beforehand and as medical protocol dictates we would never allow so many pregnancies all at once, not to mention those needing prenatal intervention to conceive. Can you explain how some of these upcoming births are even possible according to the medical records? I see no mention of much intervention at all despite well known genetic factors and practices. Would you please elaborate?" She scrolled through the data, "Let's start with a sudden gender change mid birth. Records show the birth mother of Minnie having a male fetus, yet birth records show a complication due to her horns, then a blank in the proceedings, and suddenly the readings show the baby as female." She set the PaDD down, "I'm becoming familiar with the unusual nature of the Hera, I merely need to know how to proceed in sickbay." She didn't seem angry merely confused and professional as she prepared to take notes on how to proceed and fill in some blanks that had been left by her predecessor.

"I feel I must apologize. That... unfortunately... has been intentionally left out of records due to the classified nature of the matter." Rather than explaining it simply, the holographic physician sat down in one of the guest chairs and pulled the desk terminal around so he could enter his access code into it and pull up the medical records of their other VIP guest on deck 8. Hera.

"This is the goddess from ancient Earth that I mentioned before. Her name is Hera and she claims she has an aura of some sort due to her supposed domain of women, motherhood, and some such things. I must confess that the timing of the recent rash of couplings does coincide with when she was brought aboard... However coincidence does not necessarily mean causation and though others claim to have proof, I remain skeptical of this and will continue to rule out all other causes before simply accepting this as the answer."

"What I do however know for certain, is that she was able to pen a book, by hand, on how to raise Minnie and everything in it is verifiable either through trial and error or by genetic prediction using currently known Federation database models. I have also looked over the records of the birth of Hermione Zeyes, who until her birth, was supposed to be a completely average Bajoran male and would have likely passed in childbirth if the mother had not. Somehow, this being known as Hera performed a procedure that prevented that, but at the same time flipped the child's sex."

"As for the lack of necessity for medical intervention in..." Here Doc Power had to check his own count of which pregnancies should have been impossible without intervention. "I believe we're up to forty-seven? Copulation events resulting in a sustainable embryo... Once she returns from Miradon, I recommend having a visit with Hera, the supposed source of this disturbance."

"And then there's the Captain's daughter..." Leaning back in the chair, the EMH actually let out a small sigh and looked slightly distressed. "There's a whole nother can of beans, if you catch my meaning. As near as I can tell, she's outside of this disturbance affecting the crew, but the complications bear telling."

"She was originally a poorly made clone of the Captain's mother, you see... And because of the tribunal - the struggle for the captain to assert her bodily autonomy and all that and gain control of the Artan Empire's assets and lock her mother out and all that so her mother can't go off, clone the captain, make deals with the syndicate..."

Adam paused a moment before carrying on with the story, his arms crossed. "Anyway, the babe only had a few months to live and with Arenara finally out of the picture, Enalia decided to do what she could to save her and raise her as her own. Unfortunately, she was genetically grown so that she needed a DNA infusion not only from Enalia, but from her holographic wife. More specifically, the woman she was modeled from, who was deep in syndicate territory working for them."

"Bottom line is that we eventually worked out a deal and Doc Dael figured out how to save little Moira." Doc Power pursed his lips in thought a moment. "And that's why Medical Command wanted Doc Dael back at HQ."

Dr. Mah nodded looking over the notes, "Well it looks like I a great deal of reading to go over and a goddess to speak to upon her return. I appreciate your insight in the matter. I also wanted to ask you something else of a more personal matter. When I first came on board it was mentioned that you wanted to continue exploring your personal growth. I wondered if there was an area you prefer to focus on here in the sickbay? Maybe a particular area of specialty or project you would like to pursue? I want to support your personal and professional growth here."

"Well, I've taken up fruit carving and arrangement as a hobby. I know it may seem odd as a holographic life form and a physician, but..." For once, he seemed somewhat embarrassed to talk about something, yet forced himself to continue. "I do weekly arrangements in Ten Forward, if you're interested in sampling my work. Last week I recreated Starfleet Command with bricks of melon and used Trill honey as mortar. In the middle, I added a bowl of fermented Bolian grapes."

With a light grin, Adam continued. "As for here in sickbay, I always strive for efficiency because of my programming, however, I'm now leaning towards taking on a more personable role with patients unless time is of the essence. I've found that a little extra bedside manners goes a long way. Efficiency isn't always the best way to do things."

Tova beamed at Adam Power "I would love to sample your fruit carving, between you and me I always dreamed of sipping a drink from some fruit like a pineapple." She laughed, "I think your hobby would be a wonderful interest for me to follow. As for bedside manner I can attest to the fact that, much like a spoonful of sugar, it makes the medicine go down as Mary Poppins used to say. Thus my lollipops and smiles, though it doesn't hurt that I love what I do. I must admit however at times people forget one's proficiency in their art due to the pure enjoyment they take in it." She smiled at Dr. Adam Power with a new appreciation for the person he was becoming in addition to the excellent doctor he was. "So when is your next fruit carving display and does it include a pineapple?" She giggled with the hopes of having the wonderful golden fruit featured.

"I was considering using a Miradonian fruit similar to it that Mona introduced me to known as the cova fruit. It's a pearlescent fruit that drips of a sticky honey filled with caffeinated beans. They apparently use the outer fruit in smoothies while they dry and grind the beans for something similar to coffee or cocoa. However, they can also be eaten raw like a pomegranate with often disastrous results to the heart rates of most species." Furrowing his brow, Doc Power continued. "Anyway, I was planning on using half a dozen such fruits to recreate the likeness of the Notre Dame Cathedral, using the lightly roasted beans for the roof spires. I may have to use pineapple for the foundation now..."

"I will give you a little extra challenge for your next piece then Adam," Tova got up from her desk and went to the replicator ordering up a long series of input. What appeared was a bowl of highly unusual fruits in a bowl, "These are some of the most unusual Earth fruits I use in my lollipops and I'm gifting them to use for their flavor and appearance." She held each up and gave their flavors with them, " Pacay, the ice cream bean, has the consistency of cotton candy but the flavour of vanilla ice cream. Black Sapote, tastes like chocolate pudding despite looking like it's overripe. Cherimoya, tastes like creamy mix of strawberry pineapple and banana. Birbia, this guy tastes like lemon custard pie despite its appearance. Salaks, not pretty but oh so sweet, like honey, pineapple and citrus and the ever-popular Sapodilla' with its root beer and brown sugar flavor profile." She looked at all of them in the bowl, "They are kind of like me, unusual but with great health benefits. My gift to you as you explore your interest." She smiled at him hoping he would appreciate the unexpected personal gift.

As he accepted and poked around in the bowl, first a look of deep thought, then a slow grin spread across the holographic man's face as inspiration hit him. "I think my plans just changed to the castle of Mont Saint Michel of France. Thank you for the gift and the inspiration."

Tovanna smiled at the look on Adam's face, "Enjoy, now go have fun, that's an order."

The Golden Ghost arrives to rendezvous with the Hera and take on the Khallianen, Dox, Mona and Jaeih. After the kidnapping, neither Dox not Enalia want to take any chances but the Hera can't reschedule it's business for this, so the Ghost will take them to Miradonian space and they will transfer from the Ghost to Miradon on the Khallianen, for safety. Also, it makes sense since t'Liun is a DOCTOR, that if something happened in transit, they would be prepared.

During this time, Dox talks to t'Liun about her taking up more of Dox's role with the Artans as her second. Dox is about to become a parent and needs to remove the extra level of responsibility. Time for Dox to decide to put her Artan responsibilities aside and focus on the future SHE chose, which isn't with Death or the Artans or the Senate, but with Mona and Starfleet.

The trip goes smoothly and the Ghost remains in the system to guard them from any incursions. With Rendal still wanting Dox back, etc., There IS a concern about them going on vacation, but my thinking is that we establish that plans are made, but nothing of this sort will actually happen.

Arriving on Miradon, we meet up with Mona's Foster family who has assembled for this. We see Mona's home. Maybe do some basic sight seeing that is also part of a RITUAL of birth for her people. (specific places they go to offer tribute to Minay, etc.)

Along this journey, we meet two locals that Mona doesn't know. These are the Moon Goddess and Trickster in "mortal guides" to test Dox and Mona and determine their worth, hinting that the kids HAVE been blessed by Hera.

REI comes to Dox the night before to let her talk to Charybdis, who wants to deliver a message about self-actualization and not letting others decide her destiny, even her. And to remind her that her no. 1 responsibility now isn't to anything but the children.

Travel to the Aerie for the actual birth. Beautiful ceremony. REI and Taxes are there to ENSURE that the nothing threatens the birth, and to deliver Hera to oversee the birth. Dox and Mona are unaware of any of this consciously.

Rita shows up. Not the CURRENT Rita who planned to show up but couldn't because the Hera got called away. But a slightly older Rita from some adventure in her future, to fulfill her promise to be there.

We meet the children, Tala, Amihan, and Hlai'Vana. Future Rita leaves, only to return to a Time Ship Captained by an adult Vana and maybe one of her Future kids.

Kooky. I dig it. Also sending Hera and 2 of her honor guard because if anything happens and Rita hasn't taken every precaution she will blame herself for years to come.
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These are just rough ideas. Feel free to edit or pitch additional ideas or revisions.

Silently and invisibly, the Leosa-Class Romulan Warbird known as the Iurret warped it's way through the rainbow streaks of warp space toward the region known as Galorndon Core. To the place where once was located the scientific research station known as Starbase 336.

A meaningless, human designation not worthy of a Romulan weapon, but that would soon change if the Iurret's mistress had her way, and Riov Dalia Rendal was a woman accustomed to having her way. The true name of the facility was Deleth Station and soon they would make sure Starfleet knew it well. In the modestly sized office of the ships SubCommander Arrenhe t'Suil, work was being completed that would help to ensure that.

Most of the office was filled with computer equipment, all patched into the massive bank of processors that filled deck 22 of the massive starship. All equipment designed to crack the code that had been extracted from the mind of the young Romulan Starfleet Officer, Mnhei'sahe Dox. Now, that data rested in the ship's computers as a complex formula for opening a quantum singularity between realities. A map to the cosmic titan known as Gaia, and possibly so much more. The computers are also working to decrypt the data stolen from the Starship Hera that contained the secret to protomatter weapons and the legendary "Genesis Device".
 
But t'Suil was putting the massive processing power of those computers, still parsing data and unlocking new secrets every day, towards unlocking a different secret: the identity of their mysterious benefactor. 

For months, the loyal SubCommander, or erei'Riov in her native tongue, had felt that loyalty waver. Once, in spite of her common upbringing, she had been the chosen apprentice of the noble Dalia Rendal. She trained under the high-born Commander and all but worshiped her mistress. Until that day 6 long months ago when her Mistress looked across at the blood-traitor, Mnhei'sahe Dox, and called a Starfleet officer "Apprentice".

WHY? t'Suil thought, as she ran the holographics of their benefactor through pattern recognition buffers over and over. Simply because the girl is high-born? A daughter of the house Rul? Why should that push aside a decade of loyalty? A DECADE of service and study and groveling and debasing myself like a common hfai!

Growing increasingly displeased with her current status in her Mistress's eyes, t'Suil instead decided to bury herself in her work. Again, she called up the three-dimensional recordings of their meeting with Rendal's mysterious master. The Romulan royal cloaked in shadows whos features refused to be pulled from the scan data. Who's face seemed to shift as the holographics from the source blurred and distorted the feed to make it impossible to identify him. 

All t'Suil knew was that he was powerful and deeply knowledgeable of Romulan protocol and it's regal history. And when he gave an order, it was obeyed. He had senators in his control and the Tal'Shiar in his grip. But how did he so perfectly reprogram the code of his holographic orders to Rendal? T'Suil looked at the code for what felt like the thousandth time, risking much by running these tests on the ship's systems, but she had to know the truth. Something itched at the back of her mind, and she didn't know why. She only knew that according to the holographic code, his code was somehow unaltered, which was impossible.

Unless... t'Suil thought, her eyes going wide, as her commbadge chirped. 

=^=Erei'Riov t'Suil. You are summoned to Riov Rendal's presence immediately.=^=

Swallowing, her throat suddenly dry, t'Suil saved and encrypted the data she had been studying and erased the computer log before making her way to the training hall.


Meanwhile, Riov Dalia Rendal had begun to suspect that her long time apprentice's loyalties had begun to waver and with the lack of progress in t'Suil's skills further solidifying her beliefs that commoners could never live up to those of noble birth, and the sudden dip in computation power dedicated to the research the cores were supposed to be researching and instead processing holographic data... she was mildly put off.

Hence the reason Rendal now summoned erei'Riov t'Suil as she ran through several warm-up exercises with her sword in hand.

Coming up to the door of the training hall, t'Suil came to attention and offered a classic, military salute, striking her fist to her breast. "Reporting as ordered, my Riov. How may I serve you?" the anxious erei'Riov said, the slightest tremble in her voice.

"You can tell me what you were just doing and why you were using so much computing power," replied the royal Riov as she ran through another exercise.

The lean SubCommander tensed up as she stood at attention in the doorway, watching Rendal's sword moving smoothly. "Riov, I... I have been..."

For a brief moment, her mind raced, trying to think of some excuse before she continued, "I have been researching the holo transmission from our benefactor. Trying to find out who it is that gives us our commands."

"And?" Rendal demanded softly, returning her sword to its sheath. "What have you discovered? How does it help our cause?"

Lowering her head slightly, t'Suil replied weakly, "I have discovered nothing provable yet, My Riov. Each layer I peel away from the mystery reveals another. The code of his holographics read as unaltered, yet the image remains distorted and impossible to pull out enough detail to identify him. There are no records on file of who it could be. No one figure in the senate wields his power. I... do not know."

"Then you have wasted precious time and resources on what? Suspicion?" the riov asked, quietly stepping over to the practice weapons and looking them over. "Yes, he hides himself well. Yes, as a royal he plays the same games within games we all do. However, as a fellow noble, I have seen through this as he uses a classic ploy to disguise himself."

"So tell me, t'Suil... Why have you lost faith?"

"My loyalty is, as always, to the Imperium. To the supremacy of the Hearthworlds against those that would destroy us, my Riov." t'Suil said, with false confidence. "I seek only to ensure that our actions protect that."

"Oh my dear t'Suil... You've been my apprentice for the better part of my life. I know you better than that." Turning back to her oldest follower, Rendal almost had sadness in her eyes for what she knew she had to do. "I ask about faith and you profess loyalty. In that case, as my apprentice, show me how deep your loyalty runs."

Without further words, Rendal slowly unsheathed her sword and took up a one-handed stance, her other hand behind her back.

"M... My Riov, I have not lost faith. I am loyal. I am faithful. I serve the Imperium and your House as I always have. I c... cannot take up arms against you." t'Suil said, stuttering as she began to feel panic setting in as her attempts at maintaining a facade of loyalty had begun to crack as she glanced down at the curved blade in her Mistresses hand, then over to the wall of practice swords.

"A proper royal apprentice would take up arms and match me blow for blow," Rendal growled out, the tip of her sword lowering ever so slightly in disappointment. "And yet you stand there as a common hfai, mewling pathetically. Is all the time that I've invested in you meaningless? All the service that you've rendered mere lip service? All that training for naught? I should slaughter you where you stand and end your lies of loyalty."

Listening, t'Suil trembled as her eyes married and her jaw clenched. In their native tongue, the word 'hfai' meant a servant or a slave. And in that moment, she realized that to the regal Riov, as a commoner, that was all she would ever be. A lifetime of service would never be enough for Dalia Rendal.

Eyes darting, the only other weapons in the chamber were the black, maithe wood practice swords. As the bottom, the curved wooden sword that the traitor, Mnhei'sahe Dox sparred with Rendal with. "I have served you HALF MY LIFE!"
Reaching over, Arrenhe t'Suil grabbed the wooden sword with a sneer and struck a defensive posture. "I have been your loyal apprentice! I have sacrificed everything for you! And still, you disregard me!"

"I gave you a name. I gave you purpose to life. When I found you, you were nobody. And yet you repay me with this?" Rendal spat the words out like they were vile poison, sharpening her stance once more. "No one appreciates your service more, but if you think that I will let you get away with this betrayal of myself, the Tal'Shiar, and to the Empire as a whole, you are sadly mistaken."

Lunging, t'Suil roared as six months of frustration and betrayal exploded out of her. "I have betrayed NOTHING!"

The wooden practice sword that Dox once wielded against Rendal was being swung wildly, as her years of training stepped aside to blind anger and pain. With a hard chunk, the black wooden blade thunked against the side of Rendal's glistening metal weapon as the Royal Riov let her SubCommander advance, swinging wildly. "I have been LOYAL! I have done all you asked! I have guarded you and tired to uncover the threat of one who would hide his face from us both! I have served the House Rendal! I have served the Tal'Shiar and the Imperium! And you would cast aside all of this!?"

Tightening her stance, t'Suil began to focus her anger as her strikes became less wild and more controlled as Rendal's defense tightened up. "You would cast aside loyalty for a pure-blood, starfleet TRAITOR?!" As she spat out the word, her worn and splintering wooden blade struck across Rendal's cheek, scratching out a thin streak of green.

With every one of t'Suil's strikes, Rendal had been taking slight notches out of it even as she deflected it, making it weaker with every blow. When she was grazed just slightly and a splinter caught her cheek and scratched it, she had had enough and with two strikes, the fight was over. The first strike sliced through both the sword at the hilt and t'Suil's left eye and the second strike was with her pommel across her face, sending both the woman and green blood flying across the matt.

"I thought you of all people would have recognized a mind game when you saw it, Arrenhe. Yes, I wanted her as an apprentice. Moreso, I wanted her as a tool." Wiping the blood from her curved blade, Rendal sheathed it as she walked over to the door. "And now because of your petty jealousy and suspicions, you've taken from me the one apprentice I did have. You'll be spending the rest of the trip in the brig. Pray to the Elements that out of respect for our friendship and time together that I do not resort to the device."

On the mat of the training room, Arrenhe t'Suil clutched the side of her face as blood gushed out onto the floor and she stifled a scream, curled into a ball, she heard her former Mistress step out into the corridor as two guards came in to lift her off the floor harshly. 

Tears streamed down her face from the one eye she had left as the guards pulled her arms away from her face and shackled her wrists behind her as she finally let out a scream. It was a long, hoarse thing filled not only with the physical pain of her injury but with the torment of her failure and her betrayal finally revealed.

In a moment of weakness, her hard-won life and promising career had ended with two swings of a sword. And as she saw her Mistress turn her back on her through her one, good eye, she wept and fell limp in the guard's arms as they led her out to her dark fate, the secret suspicion that led to her downfall still a wound as fresh as her eye. That suspicion of just who and what Rendal's master truly was her secret alone.

The Baroness Schwein von Alcott turned Asgardian goddess of... Well, she wasn't quite sure what she was a goddess of yet, but Odin had told her that she had the potential and that with the... ah... 'infusions'... from Thor... She had become something more than mortal at the very least. She just needed to find her own path.

For now though, she was working on the path of the bride. That meant that today she was going over invitations and the special requests of specific guests as assisted by one of the several wedding planners assigned to the proceedings.

"I don't want to offend anyone, but I do not think that Surtur should be allowed to..." Pausing, she held up a request card and read it aloud. "Render in twain the land of Asgard and begin the days of Ragnarok in celebration of your most holy of unions.'"

"Ah, yes. Surtur is... dramatic." The serene faced, young-looking wedding planner said. They were a wispy, lean, androgynous Asgardian with almost fluid hair that flowed down their broad, but lean shoulders. They wore an ethereal wrap that graduated in color from a pale pink to a bright teal and seemed to shift along the entire color spectrum as they talked. "Any excuse to try and start Ragnarok... again. It's tiresome. Might I suggest bringing this matter to your betrothed? He would likely enjoy reminding Surtur of his place."

Interrupting the wispy wedding planner, the golden-haired Valkyrie, Hildr groaned from the large chair in the corner, a large flagon of mean hanging loosely from her hand. "Bah, let him try! I would welcome the distraction or armageddon from the... frilly nonsense, Beldanna."

"Some of us enjoy frilly nonsense, Hildr." The wedding planner replied, rolling their eyes with the lightest of grins. "What say you, Mistress? Yay or nay?

Schwein wanted to sigh loudly, but instead, she considered it seriously, trying to come up with a good compromise. "There is to be a brawl after, ja? Perhaps he would be inclined to participate in that to a limited degree? Without the threat of ending worlds?"

"Surtur may TRY to kick off Ragnarok, but he shan't get far. And a good brawl will do a bit to quench the need for combat for many. Trust me, my Goddess. NO FORCE in the Nine Realms will stop a brawl from breaking out." Hildr said, taking a massive swig of her mead. "Tis but a matter of exactly when and exactly how. Hence, why you will have not 'bridesmaids', but instead, 'shieldmaidens'. Well armed shieldmaidens."

"I look forward to romping with fair Ethel again, I freely admit. That was a woman!" Hildr said, looking in her flagon with an almost wistful expression. "Pon that subject, how many of your former shipmates will be in attendance? And how ready for a brawl do you think they will be, my Goddess?"

The silver-haired woman smirked knowingly as she thought about how many from the Hera would likely attend. "Hmm... Enalia would likely allow as many as possible. I know of at least seventy, with seven as shield and spear maidens. There may be as many as three hundred."

"Starfleet focuses on ranged weaponry rather than unarmed so we may have to go easy on them," the one-eyed pirate added.

"YOU may, my Goddess." Hildr scoffed with a wicked grin. "Personally, I like to see the mettle of those I stand with in battle."

"This is hardly helping with the arrangements, mighty Hildr." The ethereal wedding planner said in a sing-song voice as they brought up a small stack of additional invitations and compared them with the confirmed list that appeared in the air next to them with a wave of their hand. "Ahhh... yes. This raises quite a potential conundrum. These mortals from your former vessel will be bringing a number of decidedly less mortal beings with them. The Ambrosian, Hera. The Cosmic embodiment of Death. I can... foresee problems here."

"With their finger, Beldanna began moving names through the air from one place to the next. "Particularly regarding the placement of Embodiments and their aspects. If Death is seated... here... and Hela is with Loki's party, we want them well and far away for each other. Have you any... preference to where she is located, Mistress? I know you and she share... a history."

"Ja... Ja, it may be quite bad if we seated the mistress of the underworld next to the Universe's embodiment of Death..." As she contemplated where Rei would be ok with being seated, Schwein had a flash of insight, wondering if this was what Enalia went through every time she was caught between her Starfleet and Artan responsibilities. "Just in case she has to slip out for work, let us place her here... at the end of the first row reserved for Hera crew. Far from Hella..."

"And Hera? Perhaps best to sit nearest your mortal friend, Reba?" Beldanna said. "Her advocate? Just to ensure things do not go ill? Or has she her own entourage?"

"Her name is Rita and she will be one of my spearmaidens," Schwein corrected, pointing out the arrangements. "Hera, I believe has her own entourage now. Mostly the female security members that have accepted her blessings such as Ethel. We should reserve an area near Odin and Loki for her and her retinue out of respect."

Blushing a color not unlike a rainbow upon their cheeks, Beldanna bowed their head slightly, their mid-length and light auburn hair falling in thick ringette curls for a moment. "My apologies, my mistress. I shall make the necessary arrangements."

"That said... we have the crewmembers from the Hera allowed for. What of the Artans?" The wedding planner asked hesitantly, as Schwein rarely spoke of that side of her life. At least not around them. At the question, Hildr raised an eyebrow as well.

'Ah... ja..." The silver-haired pirate paused a moment as she remembered the last time she saw her old crew. She was watching two of her ships burning in space and she had ordered her own vessel's crew to abandon ship. Unfortunately, she was the only one to have survived, even then.

"Unless you can bring them back from the land of the dead..." she muttered as she ran one hand through her hair. "Sarika should be with the Hera crew already and the rest never... ja..."

Hanging their head again, Beldanna pursed their lips while Hildr got up and walked over. A mountain of a woman, the golden-haired Valkyre shook her head and her usually jovial tone became a bit more serious. "My goddess, with the conflation of forces in play at this ceremony, know that all you have ever loved will be in attendance, even if even our eyes cannot see them. This is the life that is now yours. You are to be the crown princess of the realm eternal. But it is a burden few others would be worthy to hold. Few but you, my Goddess."

Placing her strong hand on Schwein's shoulder, Hildr nodded. "Perhaps it is time for a break in this task. A flagon of mead, song, and revelry will do you good, methinks. What say you, Goddess?"

The silver-haired woman nodded solemnly, tears in her uncovered eye and a soft smile on her lips. "Ja, that would be wunderbar. Then perchance we may find a way to tell Jörmungandr that he may not eat any of the guests and not all of the goats are for his pleasure."

"HA! Then it shall be!" Hildr said as she walked over to the lithe wedding planner and slapped them a bit hard on the back with an abundance of energy. "Come, Beldanna! Let us take this triviality and sort it away for later! For now, the Goddess and I must prepare for merrymaking!"

"Ughh, yes Great Hildr." The slightly irritated planner said, rolling their eyes slightly as they picked up the books and left for the door with Hildr. As she did, the voluminous Valkyrie turned with a sly grin to Schwein. 

"I shall meet you at the gates and we shall rock the realm with our rivalry, my Goddess." Hildr said, as she closed the doors behind her. The grin told the silver-haired Pirate what she needed to know. Hildr picked up Schwein's need for a moment to herself before they continued, and made it happen.

And indeed she did need a moment as now the tears poured freely from her uncovered eye and from under her golden eyepatch. She had lost so many in her life, from those at the secret colony where she was all but grown from a tube and raised alongside, to those in her small fleet in the Artans. She had never even hoped to even see any of them again, let alone speak with them or even share such a special day with them.

She felt lucky to have been able to share the day with her Queen and closest friends. Now she was being told that not only they would be there, but everyone that she'd ever known as well and it gave her heart such a buoyancy that she'd never known before. She wanted to share this overflowing happiness with everyone in all the universe and all the realms so that they too would know the joys of such hope and fellowship as she had found having gone from being a factory augmented mortal, to a pirate Baroness, to now the Goddess in line to rule next to the King of Asgard.

But before that, a piratical smile spread on her face as she dried her cheeks, because for now there were drinks and merriment to be had and Merriment in Asgard usually meant a very good fight which the silver-haired woman was more than happy to engage in.

Getting to her feet, Schwein checked her slightly used cudgel at her hip and headed for the gates, her grin widening as she readied herself for drinking mead and seeing who can smash the most ice giant skulls.

Weeks of paperwork, seemingly endless interviews, repetitive transmission and retransmission of medical records, testimonies from both Starfleet Medical Psych Division as well as veterinarians and xenobiologists. Miles and miles of red tape that Doctor Tyra Ironhooves galloped through, charging like a jouster to reach her objective, which she was pursuing with a single-minded objectivity.

“I just want to go for a run in the forest, that’s all. It is the closest climatic and botanical match for my homeworld on this planet, and I just want to camp out. I will make no fire, I will not harm the forest. I just want a chance to breathe fresh air, to hear the sounds beneath a canopy of great trees and to run free a bit with real earth beneath my hooves. I have served Starfleet faithfully and well even when you stuck me on a tin can in space, and I have leave acquired. It is a protected woodland site, and I swear I will respect it.”

Over and over she explained her rationale while spending her days in the Starfleet Medical library, reading up on the vast storehouse of medical knowledge available. Her grasp of anatomy of known species of the galaxy was nowhere near comprehensive, and the four-legged physician was constantly studying to refresh existing information in her brain while struggling to add more.

Nine years of duty with very little leave time had left her with considerable leave, and she was taking all of it- at least until she could get a decent vacation. And after weeks of fighting and cajoling and trotting round in circles, she had been approved for a camping trip. Beamed down, turned loose and free, she had run for hours through the forest of gigantic trees, feeling the wind in her hair and the sun on her face and being able to run without corridors or humans or anything tethering her.

Gingerly she reached out her hand toward one of the great old trees as she reached out with her soul. Ancient wizened ones, can you hear me? Is there magic still on this world?


The priestess received no answer. If there was magic as she knew it here, it did not live in the wood or it deigned not to speak to her, or she could not hear its voice. Many things were possible. Nodding to the tree she formed her hands together into a prayer ritual gesture and addressed it. Thanks you for harboring me on your world full of humans. You have been a gracious hostess, though I wonder about your children.

Trotting, dancing, hopping nimbly about, running broken field amongst the trees, dodging other tourists and a study group, Tyra Ironhooves had a wonderful day, and she might have run into the night if not for the sudden insistent chirruping of a communicator in her saddlebags.

The equine officer’s nose twitched and she cantered around one of the great ancient trees of Earth, doing her best not to snarl as it intruded on her once more. “I’m on leave. As in ‘leave me alone,”’ Ironhooves snorted as she broke for the treeline, picking up speed on her way to the clearing. Nimbly she dodged the smaller obstacles in her way, moving with a surprising gait for a dam her age.

Upon reaching the clearing she charged ahead into a full gallop, the prairie adjacent to the Sequoia Preserve ample for her needs. Reaching nearly 88 kilometers per hour the Arborian alien could still feel the vibration of the communicator in her saddlebags, which she tried to ignore as she opened up and covered some distance like an olympiad. The four-legged physician was born to run, and it was a beautiful sight to behold.

That Starfleet wanted her on starships was an inadvertent cruelty, though one she was learning to bear.

“I can’t lock onto her sir. She’s really moving, and unpredictably. She isn’t really going in a straight line either. The terrain is very varied in height and... it’s very hard sir, we’re trying.”

“Comms?”

“Still not answering our hail, sir. We can’t be certain if she even has a communicator on her unless she answers.”

“It is leave, sir. Perhaps she thinks-”

Admiral Wheeler stroked his thin beard. He never believed that Captain Telvan would stand a chance out in space, hamstrung by Starfleet’s regulations. Not the pirate queen who had ascended to her empire through the asassination of the previous queen, carried out by her first officer. Having someone so well-connected and building an empire while working within Starfleet was making a lot of people nervous. So far no one had raised an objection that had stuck- whether though brilliance or luck remained to be seen. Perhaps it was a combination of the two?

Regardless, Wheeler remained convinced in his determination that Captain Telvan should be disqualified to be a Starfleet starship commander. She presented a clear conflict of interests and was quirky, unpredictable and vcindictive, with seemingly endless resources.

Despite these reports, she seemed to be well liked by her crew, or at least, security was tight. No one currently or formerly serving aboard the USS Hera was willing to offer a statement. .

Why? Was she competent to be a Captain or was she planning to rule and empire while she bent Starfleet and the Federation to her will as well, as some sort of collective? If this were the case, she would most certainly need to be stopped.

He had to find out. A neutral, objective party with, perhaps the correct influence…. Hence, he had arranged for the transfer of Lieutenant Ironhooves.

“I do not care WHAT she thinks,” he replied harsher than he intended. “What I care about is that either you reach her on that comm or you bring her here. Am I clear?”

“Yes sir. Hailing her comm again….”

Pulling up short, skidding to a halt as her ironshod hooves dug into the packed earth, the cranky centaur fumbled about in her saddlebags for the communicator before fishing it out and hefting it in her palm. For a few long seconds she considered throwing it over the cliff before her, or simply dropping it in the dirt then trampling it into broken bits of metal and plastic. Not even one day could they give her to herself to be free and happy, it seemed, and it was decidedly unfair.

But she was light years from her home, and likely she would never return to it without Starfleet- not like Arboria was exactly on a heavily travelled route. And to be fair she had sworn an oath, and her word was her bond. Sighing heavily she tapped open the communicator, and stated flatly, “What?”

Just as a transporter effect took hold, as she had finally stopped moving long enough for the transporter chief to get a fix on her and beam her out.

Wheeler gave the startled Lieutenant Ironhooves a bemused look when she appeared on the PADD before them. Transporting moving objects was new to the Federation but they had quickly adopted the technology well. Giving a small chuckle of satisfaction, he told Ironhooves, “So good of you to join us. I trust we did not impose too greatly upon your free time.”

“I am on leave... Admiral,” the equine officer snorted, stepping off the transporter platform with her forelegs, which caused reverberations throughout the deckplates as she did so. It was a sound not unlike distant thunder when heard from a few decks away. In the small confines of the transporter room, the iron horseshoes rang out loudly when she stepped. The thick rubber covers she usually wore to prevent her from making so much noise were absent, which she subtly reinforced by hopping her hindquarters down, impacting the deck for a much louder cavitation that reverberated throughout the vessel. Sliding her communicator into a saddlebag the cranky centaur stepped into the admiral’s personal space to eyeball him.

Ironhooves’ breath was hot and Wheeler took notice of her annoyance. However, he refused to back down and looked her straight back into the eye. “Yes, you were. But your assignment will rendezvous in 72 hours, and I thought that you might need a briefing. What do you know about the Heraand its Captain?”

“My assignment on a starship,” the not yet old but greying marse snorted derisively and whinnied. “Whatever genius at Starfleet decided that putting me of all sentients on a starship was truly the greatest mind in the Federation. I have a hard enough time in your human hospitals, and you want to put me on a starship where I don’t even fit into half of the turbolifts.” The glowering granddam had stood her ground as well, nostrils flared even as one of her forelegs pawed at the deck.

“I don’t know anything about your Hera or her captain, whatever member of the bipedal boys club you might have chosen. I expect it will be even worse than my last duty, and the captain even more incompetent than Chase,” the four hundred kilogram Kutachi admitted, tail switching in annoyance as she eyed the admiral, who had not budged an inch- yet neither had the leggy lieutenant.

Wheeler smiled at Ironhooves calling Hera’s Captain ‘incompetent’. Restraining showing his teeth in a wider smile, he simply replied in a knowing tone, “I am the genius at Starfleet that decided to put you on that ship, Lieutenant. I do appreciate the difficulties that it imposes upon you. However, I have something in mind. I would say that you are perhaps the most impartial person or centaur, if you prefer, in all of Starfleet. Would you not agree?”

That earned him a braying laugh, which was then followed by consideration. The large lifeform stepped back from the admiral, and as her arms crossed one hand stroked her chin in thought as she began to pace. The reverberations in the deckplates were considerably lesser than when she had hopped off the transporter pad, but they were still very palpable.

“I have no political agenda, since I don’t care for rank nor position. I’m mature, and perhaps not level-headed but experienced and wise. I am from outside your culture, so I have no real preconceived acceptances and thus would be willing to overlook cultural aspects of humanity. Claiming me as the most impartial sentient in all of Starfleet,” she stressed the word to impress upon the admiral the correct term, seeing his ploy for what it was yet still taking advantage of the moment to educate before she continued.

“That would likely be an exaggeration, but I imagine I am close enough to fit the task for which you’re currently flattering me before you corral me into it. Breaking the mare to the rope, as it were.” Clearly she was not completely culturally ignorant of humanity, or perhaps her own world had remarkably similar development.

“And you are a doctor. I presume that you are well studied on Trill and symbiote function. Would that be an accurate statement?” He pulled out a PADD and started looking at the Doctor’s Academy record.

”It would. I have served as a practicing physician with Starfleet for twenty-three years now, four of which have been at Starfleet Medical on Earth. Humanity is still the clearly dominant race in Starfleet, but Trill anatomy, physiology and anatomy are abundantly documented and easily accessible by Starfleet records. I have studied most humanoid anatomy and failings quite extensively,” she added, tail switching a bit nervously. While there were some who were savants, the heavy-hooved healer was not one of those. Little of it came easily or naturally to her, so she studied and worked hard to learn the alien sciences.

As was her nature, the alien anatomist bluntly stated what was on her mind. “You prance around the point, Admiral, but you’ve yet to put your, ah, foot down. What is this about?”

“Prance?” The Admiral asked. “That is an amusing pun, if I do say so. It also might be how I would describe Captain Telvan on the bridge of the Hera.” He straightened himself up, walked a few steps away from Ironhooves and came back.

“To be blunt, Lieutenant, I am concerned for the welfare of the Hera. I am concerned about Captain Enalia Telvan and that throwback she keeps as an executive officer and enforcer. Commander Rita Paris. The woman is apparently from over a hundred years in the past, yet she is second in command of a starship? The woman graduated from the Academy when the warp scale was wrong. Captain Telvan and her holographic.... Ah ‘masseuse’ wife... I will let you judge for yourself. After the incident in the Dedjoy system, we did have to make a number of difficult decisions. We are still low on our ships and personnel, as I am sure that you are aware. While the board deemed them fit for service and they have been cleared of all charges, I believe it may have been done out a sense of duress. Making an enemy of Enalia Telvan is a dangerous idea. As I mentioned, she is known to be vindictive. I would like for you to evaluate the command crew, and verify the safety of the crew of that ship.”

The lips of the Kutachi healer narrowed to the corner of her mouth as her eyes half-lidded dubiously. “I am a doctor, not a... counselor,” Ironhooves pointed out one of the positions people kept suggesting she move into which was sheer lunacy to her. “If they are ill, irradiated, injured, fighting diseases, I am their best hope. But the human psyche I know as much as anyone. The human heart is an unpredictable thing, capable of kings living with cowardice or thieves nobly sacrificing for the greater good. I can judge the crew’s physical fitness for command, aye sir.”

“Now let’s speak plainly,” the direct doctor redirected. “You’ve spoken with some air of disdain and you wish to send me to evaluate the captain and crew of the Hera. What is your objective in this, Admiral?” The equine officer asked bluntly, prepared for lies and subterfuge but open to the possibility that the man might tell the truth. Those inhuman teal woodland creature’s eyes, so similar to, but not quite human, transfixed the brown eyes of the admiral.



“Not disdain, Lieutenant,” the Admiral tried to reassure Ironhooves. “Concern. Captain Telvan is a... complicated woman, and Commander Paris is a severely old veteran. I have no objective other than the safety and welfare of our ship and fellow officers of Starfleet.”

The Admiral narrowed his gaze at Ironhooves. “Are you implying something further?”

The lips of the old warhorse curled into a humorless smile. "I imply nothing Admiral. You dragged me here against my will. You laid out the situation as potentially dire, certainly one for which you have considerable concern. You are in a considerable rush to impress upon me your agenda, and I am interpreting your words and actions..." The Arboreal anatomist paused before offering, "impartially."

“Then let me impress upon you that Captain Telvan traveled in time. Penetrated multiple dimensions, is harboring some rather questionable people on that starship, which has the sensor pod from the old Section 31 flagship. I need to know what is going on, especially given the nature of Hera’s current mission.”

"For this you beamed me up against my will from leave? A mission briefing, dire warnings, a medical report I would have read anyway, all over the fact that somehow you seem to enjoy stuffing me into duranium cans in space and you disagree with the choices of one of your starship commanders?" The tone was insubordinate once more, but it was clear that either the fleet-footed physician did not appreciate the admiral's sense of urgency, or she simply disagreed with it.

The Admiral took on a condescending tone. “May I remind you of your position, Lieutenant? Or the needs of Starfleet over any single sentient? You are uniquely qualified for this confidential mission. Are you telling me that your discomfort is more important than the safety of an entire ship of Starfleet Officers, or perhaps even the safety of Starfleet itself?” His eyes and tone clearly dared the centaur to defy him.

Adopting the same condescending tone, the physician shot back, "On the hume planet of Starfleet Command you could not find one qualified for this task? That seems hard to believe given that until first contact Earthlings believed that aliens were comical myths. My comfort is not the issue. Your agenda and goals are, and we both know that your surface reasoning is but a hint of the truth."

"Need I remind you, Admiral, that I am a volunteer serving in Starfleet, and that my position is immune to political guilt and manipulation?" Reinforcing that impartiality that the admiral sought, the healer who preferred to be called ‘Doc’ Ironhooves stepped in toward the admiral once more. Raising children and grandchildren had left her quite familiar with such games, and being on the receiving end from the admiralty left her less than pleased.

“Volunteer or not, you are held to the same standards, rules and regulations,” the Admiral reminded the willful marel.”Or have you forgotten?”

That earned the senior admiral a derisive snort. "As are you, Admiral. If an actual explanation of this situation is beyond you, then I can have my resignation on your desk within the hour. Unless you plan to return me to my vacation. In which case it will be a bit longer to file it. Or would you prefer to take me to court martial for insubordination, in which case this entire conversation will be openly analyzed by Starfleet Command?"

“You can return to your vacation, Lieutenant. As long as I get reports from you regarding my concerns once you are aboard the Hera. Once a week will be sufficient.”

No further explanation was forthcoming, clearly. And now she was being instructed to spy on the command staff of the Hera in weekly reports. Being an experienced battlefield diplomat, the warhorse knew when to press a point and when a battle was pointless, and the appearance of capitulation would serve far better than a continuing show of distrust and defiance. Smiling, she nodded as she gingerly stepped onto the transporter platform.

"Of course, Admiral. As you say," the large life form acquiesced. You are a fool and I look forward to meeting this rebellious captain of yours, she thought to herself. "Your reports will be forthcoming as requested."

Likely full of piss and manure, she mused to herself, but reports he would indeed receive.

“How many times do I need to tell you people that I do not belong on a starship! Look at me!”

“Lieutenant, I realize that you may have some misgivings about spaceflight-”

“Misgivings I have many, petty officer-”

“Lieutenant Commander, actually. Look, Lieutenant,” he stressed the word, emphasizing the difference in their ranks, “there’s nothing I can do about this. Orders are orders and assignments are what they are. You’ve been assigned to another starship.

“I am nearly four hundred kilos commander!” the braying alien anatomist stomped one of her rear hooves on the deck, and even with the sturdy rubber coatings she wore to muffle her impact with the deck, the reverberations still cavitated outward from the point of impact. It tended to reinforce a point, and in the case of one Lieutenant Tyra ‘Doc’ Ironhooves, it came quite naturally.

A centaur, with the entire body of a horse, save the neck which then graduated to a secondary torso with redundancy systems which appeared to be a humanoid from the waist up. Long and wide pointed ears accentuated her alien appearance. A long mane of shaggy chestnut hair shot through by a few streaks of silver was restrained behind her head in a great twist, while her stout and wide three-fingered hands planted themselves on the lieutenant commander’s desk. The glossy black flanks advanced a bit, and the desk moved a few centimeters.

“I’m supposed to be in a hospital. ON THE GROUND, Lieutenant Commander. Not on a starship. Or just station me as the liaison to my home planet, but I am not...” the desk scraped back another centimeter.

“A good match...” The desk scraped back a few centimeters more.

“For a starship,” the spirited granddam snorted, then exhaled in a remarkably equine expression. The lieutenant commander calmly folded his hands atop his desk and smiled placidly.

“Take it up with Starfleet Command. You can send a request up the chain of command and wait for an answer, but in the meantime, orders are orders. Are you refusing to report as ordered, Lieutenant...?” There was a bit of a twinkle in his eye as the routing officer waited for the impotent rage to set in. This was the good part of his job, after all.

There was that moment where she considered just bashing his skull in, but she didn’t have anything within arm’s reach that would serve as a decent cudgel. Of course, she could always reverse then buck up to kick him with both hooves. Probably at least crack his skull if not dash his brains out. Though while she found both thoughts to be satisfying, in the end she chose civilized behavior.

Another starship. Another life in cramped quarters, jamming into turbolifts while trying to keep sickbay up and running. Trying to find a treadmill that could hold her. Trying not to get claustrophobic because she could never see the sky nor feel the wind on her face. Never being able to run with all of those sharply angled corridors or the endless stream of people in the way.

“There should be provisions in Starfleet for assignment of alien life forms that are not like you humans to posts that would count as animal cruelty,” the cranky centaur muttered, her tail flicking in annoyance. “So what’s the name of this starship again...?”

“The USS Hera...”

----------

Not long after, Captain Enalia Telvan was waiting in Transporter Room Three alongside Crewman Kyle, waiting patiently and reviewing an incoming personnel file for a new ship's surgeon. She was here doing an onboarding today rather than Commander Paris, due to her First Officer's allergy to the transporter, coupled with the added mass of the incoming Lieutenant, all of which meant something different in the transporter room. While Rita would do it, better not to risk, Enalia reasoned. Hence why the buxom Trill woman had just called 'Captain's Prerogative' ahead of time and planned to meet the hooved surgeon herself.

She just hoped that she remembered how to do an onboarding. She had three PaDDs and she knew she needed to hand one of them to Lieutenant Ironhooves. The second had all the information she needed... Right, the third was for the transporter operator. With a grin, she handed it over. "Shouldn't be long now. The SS Amaterasu was only a few minutes away when I left the bridge."

"I'm getting the handshake now, Captain," Kyle noted, brow furrowing. "Uh, engaging two platforms at once for the transport... here we go..." With a twang and a whine, the transporter started up, the shimmering particles coalescing themselves in the form of a half-horse, half-humanoid hybrid. A centaur, just like the Earth legends. Only this one was wearing a modified Starfleet uniform, complete with Starfleet medical saddlebags across her equine back, now looking around with a frowning disapproval. Taking in the enlisted crewman at the console and the Captain, she read the pips on the collar and snorted.

"I rank the captain meeting me at the transporter? My reputation must precede me. Damned if I understand why you bipeds are so determined to put me on starships, but here I am. Lieutenant Tyra Ironooves, requesting permission to come aboard, ma'am," the cranky centaur sighed, drawing herself up in a salute.

"Permission to come aboard granted," Enalia replied, returning the salute with a piratical grin. "I'm sure Commander Paris would have loved to have been here, but she suffers from a transporter allergy and with us having to use two transport pads... Your complaint won't be the only one lodged with Command about you being assigned to a starship, though for other reasons."

The Trill woman then glanced down at one of the PaDDs she carried. "So... Let's see if I remember how to on-board personnel. Welcome aboard the USS Hera. I'm Captain Enalia Telvan, Captain of said vessel. This one is for you..." With that, she offered one of the PaDDs to Tyra. "It's your onboarding package with a map of the ship, quarters assignment, duty assignment, a few appointments to keep... Your luggage should be beamed to your quarters... Ah, your quarters!"

With that grin of hers, Enalia looked back up at the centaur before her. "We did our best to accommodate your physiology in redesigning your quarters. Rather than assigning you standard officer quarters on deck eight, I had a pair of overflow quarters connected and remodeled on deck twelve near sickbay so you can avoid using the turbolifts for the most part, at least for daily activities. I hope they're satisfactory."

"That's... actually the most sensible plan, and I appreciate the consideration, Captain," the quadrupedal quest chaser acknowledged, stepping off the transporter pad carefully with one hoof, then the other before bringing her back hooves down with a bit more force, which did make the deck shake and resound just a little. "Good... solid decking. The Avalon was a recycled Soyuz class in a perpetual state of breakdown. While I wear rubber hoof covers to minimize my impacts, you could still hear me decks away. That shouldn't be nearly as much of an issue here."

Prancing a bit in place, only a low thrumming came from the impacts, which seemed to please the hooved healer. "As for the turbolifts, share one with me and you'll know part of why I'm not that fond of them, but what can you do?"

"We've had a few hooved crewmembers over the years, so we've come up with ways to buffer the decks with the gravity plating. You should be able to prance about as much as you like without bothering your neighbors too much." With a grin, Enalia motioned towards the doors. "We're also several generations newer, being a Nebula class. Our turbolifts and corridors are about fifty percent bigger than a Soyuz class, for instance."

"Now... As for your actual assignment here..." The expression on Enalia's face faded slightly as they headed out of the transporter room, into the wide and vast thoroughfare of Deck 6, moving towards the nearest turbolift. "Personnel may have signed off on your orders, but I did some checking, and your assignment came directly from Admiral Wheeler. I hate to bring it up, but he's one of those in command that are none too fond of me and him sending anyone here, you have to understand I have a certain level of suspicion."

That got the captain a derisive snort followed by a whinnying laugh. "Oh, you ought to be suspicious. You've scared the manure outta that man, and from what I've read, for good reason. You look like you might be up to some pretty fast and loose hijinks out here with Starfleet intelligence at your disposal while you run a private 'trading' fleet with seemingly limitless resources? You make people nervous, Captain Telvan. Nervous leaders make for nervous herds, and nervous herds stampede."

It was abundantly clear that the fleet-footed physician was not intimidated by rank or position, not was she given to subterfuge. She was, instead, practically blunt in her honest assessment of her situation. "So yep, he sent me out to keep an eye on you, look into you and see what you're about, as an impartial observer. I'm a sworn Starfleet officer and my word is my bond, so I have my orders. Of course, he didn't order me NOT to tell you about said orders, so no reason for me to skulk about and hide it from you."

"Well that's refreshing," Enalia replied with a chuckle. "I think you're the first honest spy this ship's ever seen. In that case, you can tell the Admiral that as long as Starfleet doesn't have the manpower or resources to help those in the far reaches of the Alpha quadrant to put away the worst of the pirates and Syndicate or help those they still haven't helped rebuild after the Dominion War or any disasters since, the Artan Empire will be there."

"As the indirect leader, that's the promise I've made and the acting Queen and ruling body agree with me." Standing in front of the turbolift doors, the Trill woman looked dead serious as the doors opened and two crewmen stepped out nervously.

"Acting queen? This is news." Internally, with the confirmation of the outlandish tale she'd heard at Starfleet Command, Ironhooves wondered just what she was getting out of Starfleet that a vast trading empire did not provide, and her suspicions moved a bit further to Why is this woman here and what is she after from Starfleet that she hasn't got? Must be inside intelligence.

"Well, as a Starfleet Captain, it would be a blatant conflict of interests if I flaunted my position as queen of a privateer nation," Enalia explained as she waited for Tyra to make her way into the turbolift. "So do you have any questions for me? Or may I ask about you? We're supposed to be doing your onboarding and I'd like to know more about our new surgeon, after all."

Fishing in the saddlebags, Ironhooves brought up a tablet, tapped at then handed it to the starship captain as a collection of recordings from starship screens began playing, on a loop of Enalia in her Starfleet uniform repeatedly declaring, "As Queen of the Artan Empire..." on four different occasions.

"It would, wouldn't it?" Ironhooves snickered as she stepped into the turbolift and shuffled her hindquarters to get them out of the way as she held the door. "You're right. Roomy."

As Enalia settled into the Turbolift with her hooved companion, she tapped at the datapad to figure out when the recordings had been made. As she thought, they were all before Magnus's daughter, Elysius had taken over as acting queen and her heir to the Artan throne. "It seems I have slipped up a few times. You have my apologies. It seems I have to amend my previous statement to say that when I'm in this uniform, I do my best to represent only the interests of Starfleet, however being who I am that can sometimes be difficult."

"I can see that. It does look like you seek solutions within Starfleet when it's Starfleet's problem, and your Artan resources when it's an Artan problem. Except for your tribunal, of course, where your entire senior staff were involved. So I'm not sure where we're going, Captain, but I believe the way these things work is you call out a deck and or location?" The cranky centaur half-turned to cock an eyebrow at the pirate queen.

"Deck twelve sickbay corridor three, direct. Captain's authorization," Enalia ordered as the turbolift chirruped almost happily and started moving. "Sorry about that. As for the Tribunal, the late queen had committed several crimes both directly and indirectly against citizens of the Federation, so Admiral Meowlith authorized an investigation. As a Starfleet Captain leading a Starfleet crew, I led that investigation and did my best to bring her to justice."

"As her daughter, I admit that I wanted to make a bit of a personal statement..." Enalia shut off the datapad and handed it back. "As her heir and a princess, I wanted to make it clear to her that I intended the Artans to follow the rule of law, and that the path I chose in life would not be infringed upon by her or anyone else."

"Very convenient how that all played out for you, then," the fleet-footed physician observed. "So moving forward you've delegated things to a regent and stepped away from Artan business to focus solely on Starfleet?"

"Convenient? Nothing about that whole investigation was convenient. Adhering to Federation law while upholding Artan code and making sure there were no violations in the Artan-Federation agreements?" Enalia scoffed slightly as she made her way Tyra out of the turbolift.

"I've withdrawn from state politics as much as I've been able to, what with the change of power. Those that knew me best, know where I wanted to take the Artan Empire and they're doing so wonderfully after minimal guidance and handing the reins over to Elysius." With a wry grin, the buxom Trill woman waited for Ironhooves to make her way out as well. "They still demand I get regular reports, and they've still assigned me an adjutant. My personal lawyer is an Artan citizen as well."

"Rather than a Starfleet lawyer," the heavy-hooved healer observed as she stepped most of the way out of the turbolift, then stepped to the left, then the right. "Nearly enough room for someone to get by. Very impressive. In the interest of impartiality shouldn't you have Starfleet legal counsel working in tandem with your private personal lawyer? This way Starfleet has transparency into your dealings and maneuvers, which would make a lot of this Q&A I am putting you through irrelevant?" In her presentation of a solution, it seemed that perhaps the impartial observer was not entirely impartial. Or perhaps, true to her word, she genuinely was impartial but determined to seeing both parties amend their grievance.

"I tried that and the legal counsel the admiralty assigned the USS Hera is..." A dark cloud seemed to pass over Enalia as the memory of the man they had been assigned returned to her for a moment. "Far from impartial. Hence the choice to retain only one and having an embassy established for him to work through. They want to make it difficult for me to do my job as a Starfleet Captain, I'll play the diplomacy game. I've also answered almost all of the questions you've asked, and they're already on record. Once you're through shipboard in processing, you'll have access to almost all the ship's logs, including everything you've asked about."

The spotted woman paused at a large set of double doors, glancing down at the last PaDD she carried. "These are your quarters. At your leisure, you have an appointment with the first officer, medical, the captain, and security to be fitted for a combat EVA suit. Once those are complete, your interim computer access will be raised to full access. I would sign off on this being your meeting with the captain, but we've only talked about myself and I know nothing about your own hopes, dreams, or preferences other than your desire not to live on a starship."

Taking the tablet from the spotted captain, the physician tucked it away in a saddlebag without looking, instead eyeing the commanding officer. When she spoke, it was with a small bit of pride, and the same directness she had displayed thus far.


"Tyra Ironhooves, of Clan Ironhooves. On Arboria, I was a warrior priestess, a shaman of my people and wise to the ways of the wylde and the wood. I encountered your people when a research vessel became stranded there, and I learned of medicine- a magic that could be practiced by the common man and those blessed by the worldgod alike. An equalizer that could bring great change to our world. As I had seen them and knew of their existence, when they were rescued, I accompanied them to the stars. I left behind my clan and my people... for now." There was a bit of wistfulness at that, a hit of a longing that was old and dulled but still ached nonetheless.

"Someday I will return to them, and bring them science and medicine, and see if they will accept it in harmony with the magic native to our world, that functions only there. Here, now- I am a surgeon. I delve inside people's systems and fix what is wrong there. I believe there are six different species onboard with whom I'm not familiar, and you and your little passenger are two of them I have to study up on. Which I will, because I'm a healer. The oath I took is a bit different than your Hippocratic Oath. I will heal those who seek help, but I will defend those in my charge. That includes you and everyone aboard this starship. That is who I am, Captain Telvan." Extending her three-fingered hand in greeting, the finger s were spread wide- clearly meant to accommodate an armclasp, not a handshake. A warrior's gesture, one to another in primitive cultures.

Piratical cultures, too.

It took Enalia a moment of study to figure out that it wasn't a handshake being offered, but an armclasp, but returned it when she knew that Tyra meant no harm. Her mother had broken her arm several times that way so she was always wary of such grips. "I think that pretty much covers everything I would ask about in our meeting then. I look forward to serving with you. When you get the chance, I recommend paying a visit to the arboretum. It's not big enough to really run in, but it's good enough for a breath of fresh air at least. Besides, I'm honestly not sure even our largest holodecks could keep up with you at your fastest gait. Welcome aboard and if there's anything you need, please don't hesitate to give me a call."

"If they've beamed my belongings over, why don't you join me for a drink, Captain? I'm not on duty, and after having to push all that manure out ahead of me, I'm sure you could use one as well. They may have sent me as a spy, but that doesn't mean we can't be friends." Many of the officers onboard would have ended that with a request for a buy-in- an 'aye', or something to that effect. But not Ironhooves, who just stated it plainly. "Sounds like you could use one who's known to be... impartial."

Enalia thought it over, moving her schedule around in her head. "Well, I could use a cup of tea. Plus, I'd like to know what you think of what the engineers made of your quarters. We did our best with sensor logs from your homeworld as well as your own logs and requests, but... Sure, let's have a drink."

For the first time, a smile spread across the middle-aged matron's face, and she clapped the captain on the shoulder. "this might not be so bad after all..."

Another day in Starfleet, another onboarding crew member.

With the advent of the schools and nursery facilities added to he starship, the Medical department's resources were being spread thin. Thus the first officer had put in to Starfleet Command for more Starfleet Intelligence-cleared medical personnel, whose clearances would allow them to serve. The fresh graduate of the Academy apparently lacked said clearance, so today Commander Rita Paris would be making that determination during the onboarding interview.

In her day, a new officer was greeted by the First Officer at the point of entry to the starship. This taught the officer if the onboarding personnel understood fleet protocol for coming aboard, as well as giving them a walk from that point to speak with the new crewman, feel them out and get a feel for how they would fit in on the starship.

That was back in Rita's day, which had been long since relegated to the history books. But Rita Paris, while herself a minor footnote in history, was not relegated to a museum exhibit somewhere, but living, breathing and still carrying on the old-fashioned traditions of her day, here in what she considered the far-flung future at the close of the 24th century, as the 25th century approached. The sexist minidress uniform of her era, in what was considered back then to be command gold, still marked her as an anachronism, quite deliberately so. While she did not dislike the modern uniforms, as they had returned more toward their colorful origins, Paris wore the old uniform as a visual cue to others, as well as she herself.

A gentle reminder that she was not of this time nor place, but instead, a living piece of history. A time capsule of old-fashioned pioneer spirit that had driven the Federation's trek through the stars, seeking out new life, and new civilizations. Some understood it, some it merely confused, and some just tried to overlook it. That mattered less to Rita Paris than it helped her remember her identity, and who she was, then and now.

The old short-skirted long-sleeved minidress was a comfort to her, which was why the Captain allowed it- so long as she kept the three gold pips on the black low V-necked collar of the uniform. After all, very few enlisted or officers of modern Starfleet recognized the ancient delta of command on her breast, a three-dimensional version which served as her customized comm badge. Less likely was their ability to recognize the two wound golden braids woven around the cuffs of the uniform, which indicated rank... back in 2268. Thus the three gold pips were a kindness to the rest of Starfleet who were not historians.

Today's onboarding was not an historian, but a combat medic of considerable mass. This promised to be a potentially interesting officer coming aboard, and Rita planned to get to know them rather well.

Because of course, Rita Paris had a plan. Subject to alteration depending on the individual she was now making her way to meet in Transporter Room 2 on Deck 6.

Which was not making her nervous. At all. Don't get close to the pad, stay behind the control panel so you can see what's happening with the readings, let them step off the pad and invite them over, it looks like a power play to make them come to you but it is you exerting control over the situation, and just be The Commander.

As the first officer entered Transporter Room 2, Transporter Specialist 2nd Class Bol'urgh swallowed a gulp of anxiety of his own. The legends on the USS Hera about the Commander and transporters made the operators uneasy whenever she was even in the room. Bootleg copies of one of her transports still made the rounds as a ship's legend, and all of the transporter techs knew the most steady technology known to the Federation just didn't behave around the anachronistic officer. Discretely dabbing at his leaky gills, the Bolian nodded respectfully to the buxom bombshell, who nodded back.

"Are we ready, Mister Bol'urgh?" she asked in a steady voice, coming to attention there beside and behind him at the transporter control panel.

"Aye ma'am, getting the handshake now.... energize?" he asked. technically since she was in the room it was her order to give, although he would have just done it upon receipt of the beam request from the USS Sargasso. It wasn't lost on him that she paused for a second before replying.

"Energize," Rita Paris said with an authority she didn't feel.

A slow shimmer lit up the transporter pad, growing tall and wide until it faded into the form of Ensign Tanaak Sado. He was held perfectly motionless for a moment as he materialized, allowing an early glimpse of the new crew member. Tanaak was an Oriasi, seven feet tall, with bluish-purple skin and striking ram-like horns; ridged, curled, and black. They seemed to sprout from the top of his dark, almost rocky forehead. His steely-gray hair looked coarse, like a horse’s mane, and only grew in a long strip between his horns. This natural mohawk he had done his best to tame by trimming it to a professional length. He was clean-shaven, and his uniform fit him well. His high nose with its steeply slanted nostrils gave his face a beastly quality, and for that moment he was frozen, his eyes seemed wild as well.

As soon as he was present in himself and in the room, the wild expression turned to one of wonder. It was obvious he wasn’t used to traveling by transporter beam, and his lips parted slightly as his jaw dropped. He scanned the room and quickly closed his mouth when he saw the Bolian at the transporter controls. He started to smile, then registered the commanding officer standing in front of him and adopted an alert, stoic expression instead. She was impossible to miss, and the words ‘beauty’ and ‘intimidating’ ran through his head. He stood a little taller, cleared his throat, and suddenly wished his mouth wasn’t so dry.

“Ensign Tanaak Sado reporting for duty,” he said, offering a salute. His voice was deep, but not loud. It had a softness to it that might let it blend in with the warm shadows if he lowered it any more. The corner of his mouth twitched slightly as he tried to control an excited smile. “Permission to come aboard.”

Returning the salute in kind, the blonde Human with the tomboy haircut snapped the hand up then away with military precision. "Permission granted, Mister Sado. Welcome aboard the USS Here... I'm Rita Paris, the first officer." With that said, the curvaceous commander extended her hand for a handshake, not budging from where she was behind the control panel. The observant medic noticed her face was slightly flush and there was a fine bead of perspiration on her brow.

Tanaak stepped down from the platform and took a few long strides across the room. "It's a pleasure, Commander Paris," he said with quiet enthusiasm and took her hand to shake it. His grip was firm and warm, but not crushing. Close up, his eyes were not solid violet as they had appeared from afar, but blue in the center with a red ring around the iris. As he let go of the commander's hand, he decided not to mention what he had noticed about her physical state--yet. She wouldn't have been the first human he'd met to have a physiological reaction to meeting an Oriasi, but he doubted that was the issue. She didn't seem the type to lose her composure so easily, especially for someone who faced new species and dangers on a regular basis.

No, he suspected something else was going on, but if she considered herself fit enough for duty, he wasn't about to start his first conversation with her by suggesting otherwise. He'd keep an eye out for worsening symptoms, but kept these thoughts to himself for now. "It's quite an honor to be invited to serve on such a ship," Tanaak said, folding his hands behind his back. It was evident that he had practiced this line, but the smile in his voice conveyed his sincerity. He truly did feel honored and privileged to be here.

"Well, she's a beauty, alright," the officer on deck said from a full 30 centimeters beneath him. A smile lit up her face, one that broadcast it's genuine glee. "The Hera is indeed a very special starship... but you're pretty special yourself, aren't you Ensign?"

Moving toward the door, the Commander apparently expected him to fall in step with her as she didn't bother looking back, and continued speaking as she moved. "First Oriasi in Starfleet, although apparently there are a few others at the Academy now. Graduated Starfleet Combat Medical training, which I understand to be a reasonably intense experience, also with honors. I understand you even saved an instructor during a training accident, and received a meritorious commendation. By all accounts you are open-minded, curious of other cultures and as even-tempered as a security officer. A gentle giant, although I suspect you've heard that one so often you're likely a little tired of hearing it from we less gifted humanoids."

"Hardly," Tanaak said with a frown. He mentally kicked himself, then shook his head. "I mean hardly less gifted," he corrected quickly. He could boom about racial equality all day with his family, but it was still painfully awkward when it came up with other species. He felt something like shame that his experience was one of relative privilege. He wanted to say something else, something to assure the Commander that he didn't believe anyone was born more or less gifted, but he didn't want to sound patronizing.

"Actually, I admire humans for coming so far from the violence of Earth's past to the tolerance of today. That's something my people could still learn from." His mouth twisted to the side, trying to make itself smaller, trying to shrink and take back the words 'actually' and 'my people'. He took a deep breath. No point second-guessing himself now.

He remembered the incident the Commander had mentioned with one of his instructors, a man Tanaak had at first believed to dislike him. During a zero-g exercise with defibrillation equipment, a team of students managed to start a fire by following instructions out of order. Without gravity, the flames sparked into dull blue orbs that pulsed like jellyfish rather than bright orange tongues.

The fireballs would have extinguished themselves without gravity if the instructor hadn't been using an oxygen mask.

Tanaak remembered seeing the flames crawl toward their instructor's face and how he had a split second to decide between tearing the mask away and turning the oxygen off at the tank. If he hadn't done the latter, the tank strapped to the instructor's back would have exploded. Afterwards, sitting in the instructor's office, listening to him thank Tanaak for sparing his wife a second tragedy, Tanaak realized that the instructor's apparent disdain for him was actually distraction and grief, and had nothing at all to do with him. The quiet moment of realization that Tanaak wasn't responsible for his instructor's unhappiness was a lesson he valued every bit as much as the commendation he had received afterwards.

Tanaak brought himself out of the memory and followed the Commander through a doorway. As wide as he was, he couldn't stay by her side as she crossed the threshold, but he caught up easily with his long strides. "I, ah, thank you for such a positive appraisal. I hope to live up to it."

"By gifted I was referring to your size, Mr. Sado, attempting to draw the obvious inference without being too on the nose. But I see it fell a bit short- I'll remember subtlety isn't your strong suit." Paris wagged her finger at her shoulder as they walked. The woman maintained a martial pace, just as did cadets at Starfleet, so it was easy for him to fall in at the same pace beside her.

"Starfleet is a lot of things to a lot of people, Mr. Sado. Not the least of those is to give people a chance to go out there and see the galaxy, then tell the folks back home about it, to encourage them to step onto a greater galactic scale." Looking up at the hulking healer, the comely commander smiled wryly. "Given the classified nature of our vessel and missions, this experience isn't going to be all that good for that sort of thing, I'm afraid. But you will find some of the other promises of Starfleet are still alive and well out here in space."

Stopping at the turbolift doors, Commander Paris turned to face the Oriasi officer. "So why are you out here, Mr. Sado?""

The giant's ears were still wine-dark from his mistake, but otherwise he seemed composed and thoughtful. "I suppose you hear a lot about the dream," Tanaak said with a faraway smile. "I grew up on a broken world." He could see through the Commander to revolts and rallies in the streets of his city. "The Federation gave us hope. It tipped the scale in favor of a more civilized way of life, but it wasn't enough. An alliance with the Federation brought freedom to the oppressed, but not equality. Not justice. Ever since I got a glimpse of that hope, I've wanted to chase it. I've wanted to immerse myself in it. Someday I want to take it back." He thought of his brother.

"Someday I will take it back." Tanaak's younger brother had accused him of running away, and maybe he was right. Maybe the horned giant was running from the political turmoil that choked their world, and he felt a pang of guilt when he thought about the accusing look in his brother's eyes as he left. Maybe he was running.

Tanaak focused on the Commander once again, meeting her bright gaze. He realized he'd let a shroud of seriousness settle over him, and he shook it off with a smile. "I had thought about going into education, but the Academy introduced me to my interest in alien biology. One thing led to another and I found myself in Starfleet Combat Medical training." Fully back in he present, memories of home stashed somewhere he could find them later as he was trying to fall asleep, he nodded slightly. "Now I'm here."

"An idealist, looking to better his people by experiencing what a culture of acceptance can do? Ohhh, Mr. Sado, I like you already," Paris grinned up at him- a genuine expression, he realized. The woman smiled often, it was clear, and when she said such a thing, there was no sarcasm, nor was there insincerity. It was as if she believed him and genuinely respected the man for his beliefs, and was expressing so in quite the straightforward manner.

That smile eased the anxious, excited energy in Tanaak's chest. He sensed in her the kind of warmth that put him an ease, and the kind of honesty that sparked excitement and curiosity. He had met plenty of people who laughed at how seriously he took his wish for a better world, but now he felt that he would be among friends. He wondered if the Commander would have been the kind of person to believe in the Spirits, and suspected that she would at least be the kind of person to respect them.

The Oriasi are not necessarily religious--they don't believe in mystical entities with supernatural control--but they do have a belief system. Tanaak had been raised to believe that things like Compassion, Justice, and Valor (among others) were real things existing in themselves. The Oriasi call these Spirits, and while they don't preach that the Spirits are conscious or divine, they do believe in their inherent goodness. Tanaak sensed the Spirits of Hope, Duty, and Honor reflected in the Commander, and it gladdened his heart.

"Well, I look forward to serving," the massive medic said with a wide grin, "And I very much look forward to meeting more of the crew."

"That's good to hear. We're a diverse bunch- Captain Telvan is a Trill, Lieutenant Commander Dox is a Romulan, Lieutenant Commander Sonak is a Vulcan, and Lieutenant Commander Thex is an Andorian. I believe our Doctor Mah is an El-Aurian. I myself am an old-fashioned Earth girl, in mint condition for my time." At that somewhat private yet not so private joke, the cheerful commander grinned, then gestured about as they passed through the infectious disease ward.

"You will meet the crew, Ensign, have no fear of that. But first we walk through this little interview, you see. Because you and I both know it's an interview. As we've been strolling through Sickbay, through the various medical specialization centers and stations, I see you orienting yourself. You are listening and paying attention, but you are also taking in everything around you, comparing it to the deck plans you studied as soon as you got the assignment- at least what you could find for a standard Nebula class. Because the Hera's deck plans are off-limits to non-personnel."

Handing over one of the flat tablets in her hand to the larger officer, the mod minidressed first officer- as she had expressly introduced herself as such, not the executive officer or the more traditional shortening of 'X-O'- pointed to the tablet. "Thumbprint here to unlock to your biosignature, Hera's already got insanely detailed bioscans of you from the moment you walked onboard. That will unlock your 'welcome wagon' package, including your quarters assignment on deck 10, maps of the Hera, limited computer access and some appointments to keep."

"You need to check into the command in order to have full access, so that means a meeting with the first officer, a meeting with the captain, a physical and an assessment. Once everyone signs off, you'll be checked into the command, and be granted full access for active duty. Any questions in that regard?" It was clear by now, with the ground they had covered, she was literally walking him through the hub of medical, which occupied the entirety of Deck 12. Why was not entirely clear, but it was the nickel tour she was offering as she chattered on.

Tanaak had to turn sideways more than once to clear some narrow passages, but he kept up easily. His brow furrowed and his lower lip jutted out slightly in concentration as he listened. "I've no questions about that," he said thoughtfully, "But I am curious how many doctors share this space for their work."

While he'd mostly been trained with mobile equipment, still Tanaak was familiar enough with many of the machines they'd passed. He was impressed by the clean display of such a high concentration of tech, and his imagination was running wild with thoughts of the diverse crew in immaculate uniforms and stern expressions at the various stations they'd passed. He could envision them calling out orders while the lights changed to indicate an emergency.

"Who will I be working with primarily? And how often will I be part of a land--" He waved a hand as if to dismiss his own thought. "Pardon me. I'm getting ahead of myself."

"An inquisitive mind is a positive thing, Mr. Sado. If I walked you through all of this for you not to question where you'll fit in, that would be disheartening to me. You'll cross-train on all of the rotations, just like all of the Sickbay staff." The new crewman couldn't help but notice the Commander had a rather old-fashioned way of referring to Medical. Apparently, the uniform wasn't the only thing that was old-fashioned about her. "But you and I have business on Deck 11."

"Let's introduce you to what you signed on for, Ensign Tanaak Sado."

While these meetings weren't common, they were getting a bit more so than Enalia liked as they required the Hera to come to a stop and encrypt all com lines just for an intel briefing like this. Still, the subject matter was quite concerning from what little she knew so far. The Persephone and her captain - Naraan Seria, had detected not only the Iurret, but half a dozen other Romulan ships crossing the neutral zone.

This was why they were now in a three-way call between Meowlith, Naraan, Enalia, and Rita.

While Meowlith and Naraan were holographically sitting on the couch, the Trill captain leaned back in her chair and thought about this first tidbit of information. "We have a course and heading from their ion trails... but why would they be so blatant about it? It has to be a trap."

"Agreed, Captain," Paris piped up. "If she is being this incautious it's because she wants us to follow her and she's laying a trap of some sort. The question is, what now?"

"Normally, I would say we spring the trap..." Enalia began, looking over the readings one more time.

Farenia interrupted with a wave of her hand. "But with almost a dozen signals, it makes the Kobayashi Maru look like a walk in the park."

The spotted woman scoffed slightly at that remark. "I don't think I have to remind my Academy ops officer that that scenario was a literal walk in the park for me. However... I think you're right."

"Well, for the rest of us who are simply mortal, this is quite the troubling turn of events." Said the tall, stern-looking Cervan woman in command crimson. Her eyes had a half-lidded, judgmental expression and her jet black hair was up in a large bun on the back of her head, and between the slightly olive complexion and slight points on her ears, indicative of her race being an offshoot of the Vulcans.

Captain Naraan crossed her holographic legs and looked at a PaDD in her hand. "Long-range sensors picked up her trail behind a trade convoy passing a checkpoint near the Barolian trade route. That's not far from Galorndon Core. The Persephone is currently on maneuvers but at high warp, we would only be a few hours behind the Hera if we adjusted course now."

"So she's going back to the Galorndon Core, where her space station..." Paris rolled her eyes to the overhead as she concentrated, pulling the call numbers from memory. "336 was located, where she was experimenting on the corpse of a titan. Which I kind of handed off to the Asgardians as a peace offering to prevent Odin from doing something a lot of us would regret. Not my finest shining moment in Starfleet, but it was a solution for the moment. Real question is, what is she doing out there now? Was there something we missed, was there a cosmic phenomenon she was studying, is she trying to rendezvous with someone or something out there?"

"What we've got is a lot of questions, and no answers," the throwback officer observed. "If it is a trap, since she stopped short of a bread crumb trail, clearly she wants us there. So the motivation is a mystery and her plan is the same. Do we have any way to prognosticate her plans, or do we have any more data?"

The admiral pulled up a bit more data on one of the ships they had detected. "Well, one of the ships has four nacelles and a new core big enough to move a station the size of starbase 336... But its tachyon and ion scans put it at one of the smallest ships in the group. There's no station for them to move, though."

Leaning forward slightly, the Cervan captain of the Persephone raised an eyebrow. "That Romulan Singularity drive was what originally tripped the sensors. It was putting out a massive amount of energy that caused their cloaks to be ever so slightly imbalanced."

"Commander Paris, you said that the Asgardian's took claim of the station after the incident? Was it not removed from our space through some sort of... trans-spatial rift that this... Odin... opened?" Captain Naraan said, looking at the Top Secret data on her PaDD that the Admiral had shared with her.

Sighing, Paris nodded. "Yes, that's pretty much how it happened. Couldn't tell you HOW he did it, but he did. You don't think she's poking around trying to reopen that spatial gate, do you? The hazards inherent in that process, even from what limited amount I know about the process, renders it practically suicidal if you can't guide, monitor, and power the process. Although one cryptic note I did get about it was that it was a lot like a soap bubble- the key is to penetrate without permeating, if that makes sense in a cosmic sort of way."

Raising a brow, the holographic representation of the Cervan Captain pondered Paris' question. "I would not have the first idea how such a thing could be guided or monitored... but powered. That singularity drive was producing a significant amount of energy. Enough to be detectable through a very good cloak. If she has the means to guide or monitor such a process... opening a spatial rift... that might be what she will use to power it."

"That said, it is pure, wild conjecture from this position." Captain Naraan concluded as she sat back slightly.

"Sounds like she wants her space station back," Rita quipped with pursed lips, the fulsome first officer wagged her index finger as she conjectured. "What are the odds that wherever he put it, Odin just left it there once he was done with it?" Paris mused, turning to Captain Telvan. "I suppose if she's after it, and she thinks she's somehow going to open a space warp to retrieve it, maybe if it isn't in the same spot we might just be able to foil her in advance this time? Perhaps we should send a communique to the Asgardians?"

"Yeah, that sounds like something he'd do. I'll send a message as soon as we're done here, but in the meantime, I'm pretty sure the Hera still outperforms them on sensors even if we'll be severely outgunned." Enalia tapped at her desk a moment, working out a plan of attack. "We'll assume for now that Rendal does indeed have some information we don't know about, and has figured out a way to recover Starbase 336 from wherever Odin stashed it with the Bifrost. We'll engage full stealth mode and approach at warp six from the northern pole of the sun, taking passive scans to minimize our chances of being detected. If I remember right, the sun put out a lot of extra EM radiation from the poles which should mask any ions."

"Captain Naraan, if you could stay at a distance and scan the system at a range they can't detect you at, I think that would be for the best since your stealth plating isn't quite up to quite the same specs as ours." Tapping her desk a few more times, the buxom captain nodded slightly. "Besides, if things go poorly, we'll need cavalry, and it seems you're it."

"Then the Persephone shall be at your disposal, Captain Telvan," Naraan said with a respectful nod.

"Thank you, Captain," Enalia replied, returning the nod.

"Well, sounds like we have a plan," Pris summarized, stroking her chin as she pondered the problem at hand. "Maybe Odin could offer us insight into how spatial bridges between locales operate, so we can be doing a bit more than trying to analyze the scans of the times we have encountered their Bifrost space bridge to determine how this all might play out. Meanwhile, assuming this IS a trap, perhaps we should employ some smaller support craft in the system, just to add an element of unpredictability to the encounter?"

"And by support craft am I to assume you mean the ones from R&D?" Enalia asked with a grin. "You have an idea?"

"Our standard operating procedure would be to warp in and keep everything self-contained on the Hera," Paris pointed out, then proceeded to elaborate on her thought process. "By fielding a number of support craft, it will be a large scale change in our tactics. Since we've all decided this is a trap and we've all decided that this is her expecting us to react like Starfleet, let's not react like Starfleet. Instead, let's arrive outside the system, deploy a dozen support craft and deploy into the system in a search and destroy pattern so that the tactics she is counting on will immediately be called into question, if not nullified. A change in tactics is a sound tactical plan, and changing our Modus Operandi will likely have some psychological warfare effect on Rendal. Thoughts?"

"That sounds pretty much like how a certain someone beat the Kobayashi Maru," the admiral replied with a grin. "I think it's an interesting plan."

The spotted Captain nodded thoughtfully, running over the scenario in her head. "Far be it for me to object then. We'll approach at stealth, then launch a small fleet to catch her by surprise. We keep transporter locks on all personnel in the support craft, though. That means you're on the bridge." Enalia waggled one finger at her first officer.

"Somebody's gotta fly the ship..."

"Captain's log, stardate 72333 point... ehhh, close enough."

"We're en route to the Galorndon Core system yet again to investigate Captain Dalia Rendal's activities in the area. We suspect she's found a way to retrieve her station... Another thought just occurred to me... What if there's something on the planet?" Enalia paused her log entry as she looked up the next time the ionic storms were supposed to clear enough for a transporter to cut through them. She didn't often record her logs while on the bridge, but this time, she made an exception.

"Looks like it'll be several more months, so that rules that idea out. Anyway, we're currently under full stealth and at warp six, approaching from the northern pole of the system. Once we're in the system, we'll be launching the Banshee, the Thunderchicken, the Warchicken, both type 11 shuttles, the two cyclones, and all five of our runabouts as support. At the same time, we'll be dropping our stealth and pumping our sensors and shields to full power. As we are currently running a bit low on pilots, Commander Paris will be at the helm rather than at tactical, and anyone with a class 4 license or above will be in cockpits. We'll be keeping a lock on all pilots just in case, but I can't help but worry. End log."

Tucking the PaDD away, Enalia glanced around the dimmed bridge. The red lighting of the alert status definitely set a mood, and not one she enjoyed. It felt like the whole crew was on edge.

"ETA three minutes," came the call from ops. "Sensors show four D'Deridex, one Leosa class, and one unknown class, as well as several probes and satellites all, centered around a singularity."

"Thank you Ensign..." Enalia had to turn around and look at the nondescript human sitting at the operations console. Brown hair, brown eyes, the definition of average build... It had to be Ensign John Jones, the most forgettable person on the ship. "Thank you, Ensign Jones. Please continue to keep us apprised of the situation. All hands, final checks. We are three minutes out."

Sonak turned from his science station to report.

''Long-range sensors do not register any tachyon or gravimetric disturbances; this would seem to indicate that no other cloaked ships are within the sector. Short-range scans are monitoring the storms. Navigation will receive an automated warning for every clearing appearing in them. Tactical will have shields snap-on automatically if any potentially damaging energy focuses on our position.''

"Thank you, Commander Sonak. With luck we won't have to get too close to the storms. If you see any signs that they've detected us, let me know immediately." Eyeing the countdown timer warily as the system slowly closed in on the main viewscreen, Enalia took a deep breath and let it out, trying to relax.

Projecting their approach vector onscreen, Paris laid out the tactical map of the situation from the helm. "I wasn't counting on this level of tactical support, Captain. None of the intel we received indicated this level of support, so our previous plan is... scrapped. If we launch support craft those D'Deredix battle cruisers are just going to turn them into debris. Unless we have one amazing strategy, they're going to do the same to us in a firefight, Captain."

"If our goal is to disrupt their recapture of the space station, we can just blow it up- damage it structurally so that it's useless to her." Paris muttered at the helm, then turned to eye the Captain. "I mean, it doesn't have its shields on yet, and they shouldn't see us coming. And we can bring how many torpedoes to bear?" Paris asked over the Captain's shoulder.

"Four quantum torpedoes at the ready with two photon torpedoes," the beefy dark-skinned tactical officer reported. "In addition to the eight Type XIV phaser arrays that can be brought to bear. As well as these dozen package delivery systems you have stacked on the edge of the flight deck, but they can only be aft deployed... ah, proximity detection guidance systems. Mines, Clever, Commander. Tractor beams at the ready with... 'grapnel for boarding' protocols online." The Klingon petty officer had worked the tactical panel of the USS Hera before. But this was the first time she was working it with the tactical officer herself actually onboard, who'd had time to prepare for the encounter and set up some surprises for 'just in case'.

Like 'just in case' there were four Romulan battle cruisers, the pride of the Star Empire. A dozen signals, the Admiral had indicated. Rendal was supposed to be on the outs with the Romulans, but...

"Is it just me, or does this NOT look like she is on the outs or a renegade AT ALL?" Paris asked hypothetically as she plotted a pair of vectors, to bring them up onscreen in realtime as the Hera approached the singularity. "We could sneak in with a warp hop to make a strafing run, or we could just try a respectable distance torpedo launch, by the book," Paris broke what bare-bones she had for a plan into two options. Because the Captain didn't need questions, she needed options. "One is far more dangerous, but practically guarantees success. If we survive it, we'll make a run for it. Best I've got in under three minutes, ma'am."

"It doesn't look like that at all, no..." Enalia muttered as she pulled out her PaDD and started scribbling battle plans furiously while occasionally tapping at the sensor feeds on the arm of her command chair. "Sonak, analysis of the beams those D'Deridex are firing into the singularity, please. I assume they're keeping it stable, but I need more information. Can they fire? Raise shields? Can you get any readings on what's on the other end of that singularity?"

The Vulcan looked at his console before replying.

''Since a singularity is a collapse of local gravity, the only way to stabilize it is by manipulating graviton fields. The level of output needed would depend on the severity of the instability. That being said, sensors indicate these four ships are old first-generation D'Deridex dating back a quarter of a century. Life signs aboard are lower than standard crew complement and power output is significantly lower than current norm- all of it seemingly directed at maintaining their shields and the graviton generators. Calculations would indicate that they cannot engage with any appreciable combat capabilities while undergoing this power transfer.''

He pushed a few buttons to shift the readout of his sensors before continuing.

''As for what lies beyond this singularity, energy readings suggest tractoring efforts from a greater number of other vessels with a higher energy output than these four. To obtain more data, we would need to get much closer; essentially, right there with these.''

"Okay, seeing all those gravitons adding into the equation, just my ROUGH estimate of the turbulence and gravimetric shearing forces, that's..." Paris brought up just the base readings from their incoming position and ran projections onscreen. "Definitely lowers our odds of a safe passage for a strafing run."

"Those graviton generators the D'Deredix are employing, though... if they're that undermanned, a lot of that is just engineering and ops, of what we know of that starship's crew allotment. Which means they can't employ the majority of their heavy weaponry, even with automated command, plus the power drain for those generators looks pretty severe- I confirm Mr. Sonak's assessment. I retract my earlier statement, Captain," Paris admitted, turning to make eye contact with the starship's commander behind her.

"Deploying the support craft might be our most viable option at this point, in order to make a coordinated strike on those generators, Captain," the first officer reported. "The smaller craft can 'go with the flow' for the graviton waves with much less cavitation, then get inside their shields while we work on drawing their fire, to take out those graviton generators. Which might strand their tow vessels on the other side of the... rift? Stargate? Singularity? What do we call this sort of artificially generated phenomenon?."

"Computer reports that we've recorded an almost identical singularity before," came the report from ops. "Something about a being called Gaia?"

Muttering a light curse under her breath, Enalia thought back to one of Dox's reports on her time as a captive aboard Rendal's ships. She had been cleared as not affected by the Jurot device, but she had said she had fried it somehow, embedding something into the screens and monitoring devices. "Now it's starting to make sense. When they used that mind altering device on Commander Dox, she resisted it... But they still got something out of her. This is it. The knowledge of how to open a Gaia singularity."

The spotted captain tapped her arm rest nervously, seriously thinking about calling the whole thing off as the countdown passed the thirty-second mark. Then she thought better of it, recalculating their odds once more. "All support craft, ready for immediate launch. Open shuttle bay doors. As soon as we hit the first marker drop to impulse, drop stealth, and raise shields to full. Have a full salvo of torpedoes ready both fore and aft. Target those four battlecruisers."

"We'll soften them up for the runabouts, then engage them and the Iurret directly. Let's just hope the readings on the big one are correct and it has no real weapons systems."

=^= Medical at the ready for incoming casualties Captain =^= reported Dr. Mah from sickbay.

"Well THERE'S a vote of confidence," Paris muttered as she tapped furiously with both hands at the keyboard in her flight control display, as she dispatched new orders to all flight wings, assigned duties, declared strategies for Tactical and ran the rough calculations for the untested maneuver she was about to attempt. Internally she decided on a number of very strong words she planned to have with Admiral Meowlith about advance intelligence... assuming they survived the next five minutes.

"Dropping out of warp in six seconds, red alert, all hands to battle stations," Paris called out over the comms as the Hera popped out of warp, already moving at full impulse as she slid across the Romulan theater of operations, the Hera moving in a high-speed circular pattern, paralleling the 'flat' spatial 'disc' of the singularity as she deployed torpedoes which came to life in their wake, and support craft who immediately moved in on their targets at high impulse speed. Meanwhile, the torpedo and phaser salvos impacted the shields of the D'Deridex class battlecruisers shields.

"Their shields were already damaged when we arrived, now down to 42 to 49 percent strength, Captain," S'Rina reported from tactical. "It seems their shields are taking damage from the pulses being put out by the," S'Rina gripped the console as the Hera's shields rocked a bit in the turbulence of local space. "Singularity. Shields holding at 97 percent, Captain."

"More good news," Paris noted with some optimism from the helm. "Captain Telvan, perhaps contacting Captain Rendal and dialoguing a bit to stall might be advantageous at this point?" Paris offered as she began banking and weaving in anticipation of the multiple disruptor beams, plasma torpedoes and tractor beams that were not currently angling their way from four starships, each twice the size and firepower of the Hera. Instead, the great green behemoths simply sat there as their shields flickered and flared to life as phasers and torpedoes were still being launched according to plan, with the expected result of one starship's weaponry spread out to assault the shields of four battle cruisers. A slow but steady attrition.

Thus far, the Iurret had yet to make itself known.

''Captain;" Sonak turned towards the command dais. "If we need to buy a moment of surprise, we can send a torpedo salvo at minimal yield but with the widest dispersal pattern. The overflow of photons will completely blind all sensors and all direct line of sight aimed at the area for at least four point seven seconds. If we shut down ours at the precise moment of detonation, they will remain fully functional.''

"That would blind our support craft as well so let's save that for just the right moment," Enalia replied, checking her own tactical readouts on the command chair as light disruptor fire rocked the ship. "Excellent idea though, as always. For now, let's..."

A grin spread across the Trill woman's face as a thought occurred to her. "There's a lot of gravimetric distortion coming off of the singularity, right? Can we disrupt the beams they're putting out? I assume losing just one or two of them should collapse the thing."

"Also, mask the biosignatures of everyone in the support craft and aboard the Hera so that we all read as Romulan. I think I have a taunt for our dear Dalia..."

Sonak nodded.

''Tractor beams use gravitons. One aimed anywhere in the flow will disrupt it. Any small disruption will be enough.''

"Biosignature masking in place, captain," came the call from ops.

"Bring us about for another salvo of torpedoes, ready tractor beams to target their emitters, and open a channel to the Iurret." Enalia had a grin on her face as she leaned back in her chair. "Dalia..." She started off in a sing-song voice. "Commander Dox is on one of those shuttles. Oh, or is she not? I don't remember where I assigned her now. Can you guess?"

"A shell game, Captain? Mean," Paris grinned from the helm as she sent the order to tactical to target the D'Deredix class coming up on their flight plan as a subtle humming vibration began rattling the superstructure of the starship Hera.


IRW Iurret Bridge
--------------------

Riov Rendal was on her feet in a flash, hovering over the sensor station, frantically looking over the readings herself for Romulan lifesigns. "Where is she? Which ship is she on?"

"I'm sorry, Riov. Every biosign reads the same. They're all Rihannsu!" The distraught centurion frantically tried to cut through the masking but it was too late as Rendal was out of patience. He gave a sharp intake of breath as she impaled him from behind with her sword and shoved him out of the way.

"Fools! Get me an operator that knows their job properly!" Not even bothering to sit down or sheathe her sword, she stood on the bridge and fumed at the viewscreen. "For now, do not fire on the smaller craft. Fire to disable the Hera."

Stepping back to her command chair, the royal Riov fumed as she flipped open a panel cover with a button underneath it. Her finger hovered over that button for an instant, before a nervous voice interrupted her.

"Good news, my Riov," the comms centurion offered up, hoping he wasn't next. "We have a signal from three of the T'Liss Freight Eagles we sent in. They have retrieved the station and will be exiting the singularity in approximately three minutes."

"Well... At least we have a little good news..." the royal Riov muttered, finally cleaning the green blood from her sword and sheathing it as she closed the panel over the unpressed button, an advantage she would save for later. "Keep the shields up on the D'Deridex no matter what. Drop cloak, red alert. Prepare to engage the enemy in battle. If we lose any of his precious Warbirds..." Rendal let that thought fade as she sat back down and the bridge lighting raised just a hair.


USS Hera Bridge
-------------------

“Captain. The Iurret is uncloaking and is on a heading toward our position.” The young, nondescript Ensign John Jones at Ops said as Enalia grinned at the viewscreen.

“Excellent. She took the bait. Now we only have one ship on us. Commander, let’s draw her away from those D’deridex. Some fancy flying, please. And inform the support craft that it’s time to go after those graviton generators.”

Pushing the throttle, Paris banked the big starship up and back the way they had just come, realigning their flight path on an intercept course for the Iurret as she pushed the speed of the surprisingly swift starship. "Diverting auxiliary power to impulse engines, because we are coming in hot. I'd very much appreciate a firing resolution on the ship, Miss Wil'I'Ams."


Support Craft
----------------

When the shite hit the fan, Angus O'Dell always said the best place to be was not in the room.

The order had come to prepare to launch, then some last minute orders from the Commander had come, to get inside the shields of the enormous Romulan battlecruisers and disable the graviton generators. While Fiona wasn't sure about what happened when a graviton generator exploded, she was reasonably sure she didn't want to be anywhere near one when it did. Particularly if it was holding open a spatial rift. Which begged the question of just how she was going to manage this particular impossible feat and still come back to tell the tale.

There in the R&D break room, she'd hugged her odd makeshift family, then took her protein pills and put her helmet on.

Ground Control to Major Tom, commencing countdown, engines on.

Check ignition and may God's love be with you.

Piloting the Silver Banshee, she had brought the prototype War Chicken and the Lieutenant Commander's cyclone, the Cherry Bomb along, slaved to her controls so that her squadron wasn't undermanned. Because the qualified combat pilots were few and far between on the flight deck, and she'd had plenty of experience in remote piloting, O'Dell volunteered to MacNeille to solo her squadron. Which had been gratefully accepted. After all, O'Dell was the preeminent expert in the Banshee class, and she'd had design input into the War Chicken, while being one of the original test pilots for even the Cyclone series.

Now that she was here, she wasn't entirely sure just how to disable the generator without the gravimetric shear destroying her ship, shattering her body or maybe just sucking her into a singularity. Or possibly all of the above.

Now, as the great jade starship loomed large in her viewscreen, she nipped inside the shields and took a few seconds to consider her options. The War Chicken had the heavy armaments that the Banshee lacked... in truth, she had planned to use the Cherry Bomb's superior offensive capability at this point as well. Whipping the small starship around, she backed up to hug the large assault craft, to hide in its blast shadow reinforcing and concentrating all it's shields to fore. Bringing the Cherry Bomb to bear over the shoulder of the War Chicken, O'Dell brought those weapons systems online and targeted the generator. Hoping the Hera wouldn't breach the shields anytime soon, Fiona remote slaved the War Chicken's weapons system, bringing the two quantum torpedoes it packed online and targeting the graviton generator.

Entering her firing instructions into the computer brought to bare the impressive arsenal that the Cyclone known as the ‘Cherry Bomb’ could bring to bare. 2 phaser pulse cannons, 12 micro-photon torpedos in the top turret. 2 underslung photons in the underslung package delivery system were nothing to sneeze at.

There was no time to check any math, no time to consider whether or not she'd be inside the blast radius, because she knew she would be... if she planned to be here. A quantum torpedo by itself was a 100 megaton yields with no atmosphere to slow down the shockwave Inside the shields like this, it would be devastating. But she was firing a lot more than that, witht he Cherry Bomb's photon torpedoes added to the mix.

There seemed to be no need to waste the microtorpedoes, what with four torpedoes engaged/ Picking a coordinate, Fiona verified the target locks, as all three vessels made the calculations for a coordinated two second warp hop on course 14 mark 68 bearing 4 mark 7. Leaping somewhat blindly into the universe, Fiona O'Dell whispered a prayer, then fired the torpedoes and warped from the scene.

As behind her, hell unleashed in the belly of a starship powered by a contained singularity of its own.

"One of the graviton generators just exploded, and the shields of that battlecruiser are failing. Their shields are down.... they are redirecting power and changing course, Captain," tactical reported as the Hera rocked dramatically. "She's imploding, captain! Huge surge in graviton particles."

"All hands, brace for impact!" Paris called out as the red alert klaxon still whined.

On the bridge of the shuddering D'deridex known as the IRW Kre, nothing more than the designation of the number ‘Two’, the cool green lights had turned a stark and distressing red. A red alert klaxon was deafening as the crew scrambled at their stations.

Clutching the edge of her command chair was a young Romulan man with the rank markers of Commander shining very fresh and new on his baldric. He had a short military haircut, but his light brown hair was missed and a trickle of green flowed down his smooth, lineless face. In his eyes was a look of mounting panic. A chuckle almost escaped his lips as he remembered his concern about commanding a vessel simply given a number and no proper name. But he had chided himself for putting stock in that old superstition of a ship without a true name being doomed, at the time.

Who knew?

"Commander ir-Ramnau, engineering reports the Singularity core shielding is collapsing. Power is surging past 335 percent. That attack ruptured the leads from the graviton generator. Shields are gone and…" a young woman at one of the oops stations shouted back, gripping the station as it all but shook apart. "By the elements… the containment field has ruptured."

In the command chair, the young man who, only a week earlier was only a Vriha'Erein… a Lieutenant… had hoped that this secret assignment would earn him a house name at last and bring honor to his family. Now, he was a Commander of a doomed ship, and as the reality sunk in, the viewscreen cracked before them all.

Over the sound of screams, then came the wrenching of metal all around them as the hull began to twist in upon itself. While Tarek ir-Ramnau was young, he knew how a Warbird worked. Without containment, the artificial quantum singularity that powered their ships would devour them all in a matter of seconds. Suddenly, the entire bridge wrenched and began to crush in upon them all as the last thing he felt was his own mass tripling as he shut his eyes and prayed to Al'Thindor.

In a flash of light, he felt his bones shatter and blackness overtake him, his moment now over.

As the ship imploded in a brilliant flash, the new source of stress caused the artificial singularity to ripple dangerously and start dragging the other three warbirds towards it.

Seconds later, three T'Liss Freight Eagles… small but immensely powerful towing vessels... ripped a charred and battered starbase from the hole in space, not only showing signs of the battle in which it had been surrendered, but new damage as well. Armor plates that looked like they had almost been digested.

The Hera and crew were a bit too occupied with Rendal and the Iurret to stop the Freight Eagles from towing the remains of the station and docking the four nacelled beast, however.

"Keep focusing fire on the Iurret for now. Don't let her draw us too close to that singularity. Have the support craft..." Enalia paused a moment, trying to decide if she should have them withdraw or go harry the station, but the decision was quickly made for her, as plasma fire rocked the ship.

In her moment of indecision, the station, with the behemoth mystery ship having docked to it within seconds, had warped away while cloaking, striking two of the small tow ships while doing so. "Recall the support craft. Full quantum torpedo spread on the Iurret.

From Ops, Ensign Jones clutched his console as he shouted back. “Sensors detect a massive gravimetric wave coming from the singularity, Captain!”


The Hera's Fight Deck
-------------------------

On the flight deck of the Hera, the acting Flight Chief in Lieutenant Commander Dox’s absence was the three armed, Edosian pilot, Ensign Wieaex. As the order came in to recall the remaining support craft as the gravimetric shear began to rock the massive starship, the generally chatty, orange shelled junior officer was unusually terse at the control console of the station.

“Aye, Captain! Green Squadron did a warp hop before the shear grabbed us and is clear. Recalling R… Red, Blue and Gold now!” Wieaex said as she scrambled to call up the data on the remaining groups of ships out there. Opening up comm frequencies to the other ships, three more groups of three, each with its own pilot to worry about, Wieaex’s usually energetic and friendly voice was broken and anxious.

“Hera Flight Control to all flight teams. We need to time your returns to the deck carefully. We can only drop shields for a moment with the gravimetric shearing.” The frightened assistant Flight Chief said as she looked at the tactical placement of each squadron of ships. The Runabout Thor and its two support shuttles was closest. Then the Selune, followed by the Frigga.

“Hera to Thor. Ensign Harnell, approach vector… uh… 7 mark… uh…” Even with three arms, Wieaex was having difficulty keeping track of everything. On the other side of the deck, Ensign Jessica MacNielle was busy locking down the remaining craft and prepping an emergency relief team for potential casualties. Swallowing, the Edosian woman who had studied extensively for the Assistant Chief position realized she was panicking and called across the deck. “JESS!!! Please, I need your help over here!”

Hearing the panic in Wieaex’s voice, the plain looking, even tempered human woman with shoulder length brown hair delegated to the deck officer who was assisting her and ran over to the command station. “Okay, Ensign... let me take a look. We got this.”

For the last couple of months, both women had been working with Lieutenant Commander Dox to see who would be best to replace the recently promoted Lieutenant Gonadie as her assistant, and both had done well in tests, but here in the moment, MacNielle was stepping up with a cooler head. “Okay, Wee. I need you to calculate the approach vectors and timing so we can drop those shields as quick as possible. Okay?”

As the orange-skinned woman nodded and started her calculations, MacNielle hit the comm. “Okay, Ensign Harnell, we are sending you your approach vector now. You’re coming in first and you are not slowing down, got it? Then you, Selune. Then you, Frigga. Beam your wing pilots onboard the lead crafts and set the Type 11’s on auto pilot to get clear.”

With a nervous glance, Wieaex stuttered? “W… wait, what?”

“C’mon. We got this. We both aced the sims for this with the Chief and she planned this whole thing out as an emergency contingency. I’m bringing them in and you’re catching them. It’ll be fine. We’ve got this, Ensign. Just relax and remember the training.” MacNielle said, offering a slightly forced smile as she tried to bolster her OWN confidence. Then, with a shout on the loudspeaker to the room, she called out. “All hands, clear the deck. Preparing for Emergency Landing Plan: B!”

“B as in barricade.” She muttered under her breath as a set of long, metal waldo arms lowered from the overhead and between them a blue forcefield snapped on. A modern twist on an old trick that was built by Lieutenant Gonadie to literally catch support craft as they entered the bay hot.

“Flight Deck to Bridge… this is Ensign MacNielle. We are going to need aft shield control routed to this station to get the support craft back on board. ETA is in 32 seconds, mark.”


USS Hera Bridge
------------------

On the bridge, Ensign John Jones was struggling to balance power between all the shielding systems and the structural integrity field and now he was being asked to reinforce the docking bay too? Shaking his head, he decided to employ a little trick he learned back on Mars back when he was knee high to a workbee and pulled power from life support temporarily, cancelling the sixteen warnings and overrides the system had in place not to do so. It wasn't like it would be needed for more than a few minutes anyway, so it would be going right back to life support anyway. Besides, he was pulling it from the less critical parts of the life support right at this moment like waste reclamation and replicators.

No one should be eating on the refresher right now, anyway.

"Power rerouted. Shields at sixty nine percent, SIF at eighty seven percent. Both holding for now."

"Is it just me, or is Rendal fighting more desperately than she was before?" Enalia mused as she punched up a tactical readout of Rendal's ship on her chair's display. Apparently the sensor shielding was still in place though. "Keep unloading all weapons on her."

As the Hera raced into range, the tractor beams lanced out, retarding the Iurret's movement and causing her to drift close to the singularity, which was shrinking quickly as the surviving trio of battlecruisers held their positions. Phasers lanced out, multiple banks coming together to synchronize the band fire in larger and larger successive bursts, as the Iurrettr was the only target at the moment. Thus their was no reason not to bring the full strength of the Hera's phaser system to bear upon her.

It was the torpedoes that caused the problem, this close to an already unstable subspace rift. But a full spread was what the Captain had ordered, so a full spread was what she'd gotten.


The Hera's Fight Deck
-------------------------

Back on the main flight deck, the main doors were opened to space and the blue rimming of the force field disengaged. The internal shielding that kept the bay from decompressing remained in place, but the tension was high as the Runabout Thor approached quickly. At the control console, Ensign Jessica MacNielle was working frantically at the panel as, at her side, Ensign Wieaex did the same. The entire ship was now shaking from the gravimetric shearing forces from the massive singularity that was pulling at it. Hitting the comm, MacNielle called to the Thor’s pilot. “Okay, Harnell. You are locked in your approach. Cut your engines on my mark and brace for controlled stop…”

“Wieaex, you’re on the force field net. Are you ready?” MacNielle said, beads of sweat visible on her furrowed brow as she prepared to perform the insane maneuver she had only ever done in simulations. Looking over to the three-armed Edosian who looked just as anxious, who nodded her reply silently as she hovered her hands over the virtual controls for the massive mechanical arms that had extended the forcefield in the center of the deck.

“Okay, Harnell. On my marrrkkk…. Annnnnd, MARK!” As MacNielle shouted, just outside the main doors, the RUnabout Thor cut its power and MacNielle activated the docking tractor beams which created a virtual rail that directed the speeding shuttle into the massive inertial dampening energy net where it rapidly stopped in mid-air. As it did, MacNielle and Wieaex were almost knocked off of their feet from the force that shook the ship.

As soon as the Runabout slowed to a stop between the massive, shuddering arms, the docking tractor beams took over and began moving the support craft to the other end of the bay as quickly as possible. And as soon as it was moving again, MacNielle pulled herself back over the console, gasping. “O… one down, two to go.”

Next to her, Wieaex looked over and at the display which showed the Runabout Selune rapidly approaching and muttered, “Ah, shit!”

Back on the bridge, Ensign Jones grabbed the edges of his console as the ship was rocked by two more sharp impact shudders over the next fifteen seconds as the singularity continued to pull at the Hera. Then, over the comm, MacNielle’s shaken voice came across. “F… flight d… d… deck to bridge. R… runabouts secured, all crewmembers from the three teams are aboard and the main doors are closed!”

"Roger that," Enalia replied, knowing from the impact that they had used landing plan B, for barricade, and that they had used the catch tractors mounted to the deck echo bars along the flight deck ceiling and floors, hence how the entire ship felt it. "Ok, let's get a little more distance from that singu..."

But she didn't get to finish that thought as suddenly the gravimetric shear intensified several times over, threatening to tear the ship apart.

From Ops, Ensign John Jones was almost thrown to the floor as he read the readings scrolling across his station. "Captain, the Iurret has performed a warp hop out of the system leaving a shadow singularity behind! I'm no longer reading the three D'Deridex warbirds! Residue... They were sucked into the singularity!"

"And we will be too, if we can't get out of here! Rita!" Enalia gripped the arms of her chair with white knuckles.

As the hull shuddered and the superstructure of the solidly-built starship groaned. Rita Paris redirected power even as she primed the warp engines. "I'm givin' her all she's got, Captain, but it's still dragging us..."

Whatever Paris planned to add was lost as at that moment, shields failing, Riov Rendal leapt to warp, leaving behind a miniature singularity, her usual calling card of a gravity bomb. Save that this time, it was next to a singularity. In a fraction of a second, it caused the entire singularity to compress, causing all three D'deredix class battlecruisers to be pulled close enough for their proximity alert sensors to go off, metal groaning and shearing.

Before the singularity flared outward, to the size of an A-class sun, enveloping everything in its wake.

Before collapsing, leaving only empty space in its wake.

Finger hovering over the commit button after realigning her course and assessing where to go next, Ensign Fiona O'Dell gaped at the empty space where a starship engagement had been happening seconds ago.

"Shite!" she squeaked.

Three days after the birth of Hlai’vana, Tala, and Amihan GoDox, their beleaguered parents were going to trust them to another for the first time. And in this case, it was a task that was to fall to the newborn children’s grandmother, Jaeih Dox.

Still on the planet of the children’s birth-Mother, Mona Gonadie, came with what Jaeih had thought was an excessive number of traditions, ceremonies, pomp and circumstance. And today, that meant that Mnhei’sahe and Mona were to meet with priestesses of a nearby temple without the children for another such ceremonial… thing. In truth, Jaeih neither understood or really cared. That it was important for Mona was enough for her to keep her skepticism to herself. And it really just meant that she would finally have some time with her grandchildren to herself.

And now that it was happening, she was beginning to understand just how difficult watching these three would be.

“Hlai’vana… my dear… please don’t… aaand she’s trying to fly again.” Jaeih said running across the room where the newborn girl with the black and red feathers was taking a leap, inexplicable, off of the back of the couch.

Holding her arms out as long as she could, the tiny tot was flapping her miniature arms as fast as she could as she hovered to the ground before being snatched up by her slightly haggard grandmother. “I have you now, little one. By the Elements, you are bound and determined to damage yourself.”

Pouting in Jaeih’s arms, Hlai’vana wriggled and tried to squeeze out to no avail as the elder Romulan woman walked across to the large, round next-like bed where the other two chicks were playing.

“Hu'nanov” Tala and Ami squeed as the reached up and made grabby hands, saying the Romulan word for ‘grandmother’. As they did, Jaeih set Hlai’vana down with her sisters, an unguarded smile on her face.

“Well, you three shall certainly keep me easily as busy as young Minerva back on the Hera.” Jaeih said as she walked over to the table to prepare the children’s mid-day meal. Opening up the container left for her, she scooped a portion of the light yellow, mashed meal, the former intel operative mixed it to a fine consistency in the old, clay bowl. “But I shall not be passive in my responsibil… aaand your all gone.”

Turning around with the bowl, all three chicks were crawling away from the bed in different directions as Jaeih set the food down and quickly assessed the situation like an assassin marking her targets. Hlai’van was the largest, but also the fastest and the most likely to get into trouble. Tala was the most curious, and as such, the most easily distracted. Ami was the one that craved attention the most, and therefore the easiest to catch. Because she had crawled straight towards her Grandmother.

=^=Chirrup=^= The door chime of Dox and Mona’s hotel suite where Jaeih was babysitting rang, and after an extended moment, the door slid open. Outside the door, the Vulcan refugee from a mirror dimension stood and raised an eyebrow curiously as the door slid open. On the inside, Jaeih stood with her foot on the door control pad, Hlai’vana hanging with the nape of her little red jumper in Jaeih’s teeth, with Tala under her left arm and Ami under her right.

“P’ees… c’m nn, Ahh’pll.” Jaeih muttered with her mouth full but a controlled expression on her face.

"Do you require assistance?" the Vulcan woman asked calmly as she entered and closed the door behind her. "Or would you prefer to continue your acrobatics solo?"

Jaeih leaned slightly forward, holding the dangling, black and red feathered infant who was hanging from her mouth and pouting. As Az'Prel took the dangling child, Jaeih stepped back to let her in, rotating her jaw slightly after holding a baby's weight with her teeth. "My thanks. Be alert, little Hlai'vana is very much Mnhei'sahe's child and seems bound and determined to leap from any surface so much as a centimeter off the floor."

"And If I didn't know better, I would swear that was... a joke, Az'Prel. Of course, I know better." Jaeih said with a light smirk, knowing her bond-sister quite well. As they stepped back inside, Jaeih popped the door panel with her elbow, closing the chamber door.

"I was about to feed them, and I would... appreciate some assistance in keeping them in one place, thank you. Is all well?" Jaeih asked as she held Ami and Tala in her arms and walked back into the bedroom with the children.

"These past few days have reminded me of my own..." For a moment Az'Prel almost lost her hold on the red and black chick as she once more attempted to take flight and the wide-eyed look on the Vulcan woman's face was almost that of surprise as she had to leap out to catch her in mid air. "My own family. I have had much to think about and this planet has forced those thoughts to the surface."

"Ah... I see. One moment." Jaeih said as she put Ami down on the bed, still holding Tala in her arm. "Amihan, my dear. Your Hu'nanov and Aunt Az'Prel would love to hear one of your beautiful songs while I prepare your meal. Would you please?"

The Romulan woman, more accustomed to dealing in secrets and death, seemed unusually comfortable as her voice softened and the warm smile on her face spread. And looking down, the tiny girl covered in Golden, feathery down blinked her large, copper-colored eyes and blushed a pale green as she began to hum. There was no melody to speak of, but it was still resonated through the space. In her arms, the blue-green feathered Tala calmed down and began to thrum slightly in Jaeih's arms.

Over by the door to the bedroom, even the rambunctious Vana calmed down a little and began to thrum lightly in Az'Prel's arms. It was an extremely pleasant distraction that worked exactly as Jaeih had planned, enabling her to collect the bowl of meal and a spoon and bring it and Tala to the bed next to Ami. As she did, she gestured with her head to Az'Prel to do the same. And once all three chicks were sitting together, Jaeih began to feed them small spoonfuls.

"I can fully understand. In truth, I have been concerned that all of... this... would do exactly that." Jaeih said, lightly patting the other side of the bed for the Vulcan woman to sit. "I may no longer actively be in the Intel Department, but I still have my clearance and have kept up with what information is available. Have you had any contact with her?"

"Until they have removed the augments deemed unnecessary or hazardous, they are keeping her in stasis. They have sent status reports and imagery as they have confirmed that I am indeed her mother and I have been granted clearance, however, I have made no direct contact." Az'Prel paused a moment as she watched the chicks eat. "They estimate that it will be at least two more months before she is removed from stasis for final rehabilitation and they request I be present."

"I am sure the Captain will do whatever she can to make that possible for you." Jaeih said as she took a moment to wipe some food off of Vana's chin and bop the tiny tot on her nose, which caused the chick to giggle for a moment. "However, your choice of words suggests you may be torn about being there."

"I am," the Vulcan woman confirmed with a nod. "My emotions run hot within me at the thought of her and my logic fails me when it comes to this decision. I want to be there but I want to be there for the right reasons. As her mother not as her jailor. I fear she will not accept me as the former but as the latter."

As the bowl emptied, Jaeih placed it on the floor next to the bed and began to gently run her fingers across the chicks heads one by one with a smile. "I understand your concern. And while you strive to control your emotions as a logician, perhaps this is a situation where controlling your emotions means allowing them to... breathe."

"What Mudd did to her is... unforgivable. And those augmentations were even in her mind as I understand the intel reports that were available to me. As such, she may need a mother. More even than she wishes to accept. She knows only what he told you of her and acted under his influence." Jaeih said, looking up to her bond-sister as the chicks began to thrum again happily as they started to snuggle up against each other. "This... may be an opportunity to start over with her."

Then, her eyes went back to her three grandchildren and smiled, "And second chances are... rare."

"In our lines of work they are all but unheard of. However, in this Federation they seem to be commonplace and abundant as long as one is amenable to their means of conflict resolution and ways of thinking." The Vulcan woman ran her fingertips across the feathered head of Tala a few times, prompting louder thrumming from her. "If you were wondering, I find myself inclined to be amenable. I have found peace far more logical... and comfortable... than near-constant combat."

"It is indeed something of a course correction. I am still becoming accustomed to this new position on the ship, but as young Minerva gets older, I understand why the Commander felt an accomplished spy would be ideal with children of the Hera."Jaeih said, smiling slightly at the sight of Az'Prel's tenderness. The two women shared much in common and both had a hard time adjusting to life on a Federation starship.

"For me it was the constant threat if the Tal'Shiar. Of the knife slid between ribs in passing. Never knowing what each false smile held or which meal would hold the poison that would end you." Jaeih said with the slightest hit of longing in her voice. "I will admit, perhaps only with you, that there are days I miss the game. The challenge."

Then Ami burped, a strangely musical sound prompting a smile on the former spy's face. "But that was... before."

"For me it is similar. I feel even now I must be constantly on guard for an attack that will never come. Every Human or similar I see, I expect a fist or a knife at my throat. Every glint of a shiny surface, I expect a squad to throw me into an agony booth or for weapons fire to erupt on my position."

Pausing in her petting of Tala to let her burp as well, Az'Prel almost smiled. Almost. "I do not miss those... games... And I would have my daughter know this universe, this Federation, properly and lead a peaceful life."

"It is... a good thing. This is better. When we must use the old skills now, it is towards a purpose that no longer brings shame. Now, we can end pain rather than just perpetuate it. I pray to the Elements that you can help her find that peace." Jaeih said, watching as Tala looked at Az'Prel, then at Jaeih, then at her sisters who were getting drowsy. Then, the curious chick with the green and blue plumage put a tiny hand up to feel her own ear. Running her hand over the point, her big, copper eyes went wide and she smiled as she reached up, trying to touch Az'Prel's own Vulcanoid ear, grunting for the effort as it was out of her tiny reach. "And you will, of course, have whatever you need from me. You are my bond-sister. That makes you a part of this family as well."

The Vulcan woman leaned down so that Tala could reach her ear and touch it. She considered curiosity a good thing and this chick seemed quite curious. "I am unfamiliar with many aspects of this culture. As your bond-sister, logically, I am their great-aunt. Does this hold true in Miradonian society?"

"In truth, I admit I do not know. I have learned from Mona that her people value the bonds of... found family... extremely strongly, so I would suspect that the answer would be yes." Jaeih said, watching as she continued to rub the heads of Ami and Vana, who were continuing to doze off, their bellies full. "Romulan culture these days is generally almost... obsessed with bloodlines, but I follow the old ways. Our true name, Rihannsu, means 'of the Declared' in our own tongue."

"I declared you my sister. That makes you the great-aunt to my Grandchildren. Period." Jaeih said, definitively.

"And in my old reality, in the cells we fought in, our bond sisters and brothers were simply qorDu'. Family. There was nothing more important. You are my bond-sister and you are my qorDu' now." It had been ages since Az'Prel had used the adopted Klingon word for family that her resistance cells had used to describe themselves, but she felt there was no better term. "Thus they are my qorDu' now as well. It is only logical."

"QorDu'." Jaeih repeated, having to think for just a moment to recal her knowledge of the Klingon tongue, she had taught her daughter as a child. "Not a word I've heard in a while, in truth, but a good one. Logical and fitting. QorDu' it is."

Reaching up, Tala ran her fingers over Az'Prel's ear and smiled. Then, she looked back at Jaeih, grabbing her own pointed ears and started to giggle, making the mental connection of what they all had in common, regardless of if she had feathers instead of hair.

Reaching over, Jaeih picked up the curious little one and sat her down next to her sisters, and kissed all three on their foreheads. As she did, Tala almost immediately began to doze off as soon as she physically touched her sleeping sisters. Whispering, Jaeih spoke in her native tongue, which the children seemed to understand a bit more than Federation standard, "Ehhaai notht, arham lacendt jhu'ri." or 'Sleep well, my little angels.'

Then, as the chicks began to thrum in sequence, fast asleep, Jaeih gently rose up from the bed and gestured for Az'Prel to follow as they stepped together into the main room. Leaving the door open, the two women walked over to the table where Jaeih could still see the bed, far enough away so they could not be heard. "Would you care for a drink?"

"I would," Az'Prel replied simply, taking one of the seats, knowing that Jaeih would pick something appropriate for her. "I must admit a growing fondness within me for our expanded family."

Returning a moment later from the main wall panel next to the dining table Az'Prel was seated at, Jaeih took a seat as she waited for their drink selections to be beamed to the center ring of the table as the hotel they were still staying at didn't use replicators, but rather prepared orders on demand and beamed everything in. "Sadly, the kitchen here has neither Romulan or Vulcan selections to speak off, but I have been enjoying a particularly strong local blend of a dark coffee that I am trying to get the formula of for the Hera's replicators. It's quite intense and a bit bitter, but that is my taste."

Moments later, there was a shimmer, and two steaming cups appeared in the center. "Hopefully, you will like what I selected for you."

The Vulcan woman took a moment to savor the aroma of the drink before her. She then sipped at it gingerly and nodded. "Indeed, it is quite pleasing to the palate. Thank you. I have been ordering random food and drink since we have been here. Many of the selections have not been... pleasant."

"Well, just another perk of our extended family." Jaeih said, taking a sip of her Miradonian coffee and smiling across the table at her bond-sister. "And when the time is right, I shall be by your side when we extend it futher, Az'Prel. I swear on the Elements and Al'thindor itself that if there is any way to reach her, we will find it. You are not alone."

As the Hera was sucked into the singularity created by the Tal'Shiar agent Riov Dalia Rendal and her small fleet, the bridge crew hung on for dear life as the ship was buffetted by the collapsing gravimetric tunnel.

The view on the screen was unhelpful as the ship plummeted almost out of control, spinning helplessly end over end until with a herculean effort and a trick she'd learned from Hikaru Sulu back in the day gave the Hera sufficient counterspin to give Paris a plane of reference. Once she had that, she guided the mighty vessel toward that plane, giving her stability and a way to ride the gravitic currents until the starship was back under control once more. With a sigh of relief, the buxom Commander Paris skillfully reoriented the ship to at least ride the collapse of reality to whatever their destination would reveal itself to be upon arrival.

Assuming there was going to be an arrival, and not just some event like being crushed by unimaginable gravity or whatever happened when a spatial rift collapsed into a singularity, dragging entire starships with them.

Everyone on the bridge had seen records of effects similar to what was now onscreen. When the refit Constitution class ships had undergone trials, they were able to accidentally create wormhole effects, which caused severe stress, damage, and worse to the starship line. Most notably, the USS Enterprise had survived this effect, and the flaw in the warp system had been quickly corrected by Montgomery Scott.

But what they saw on screen soon changed as the minutes dragged on. The blue and black tunnel took on more of a green tint and grew darker with sparks of energy arcing through the ship.

There was no time dilation thanks to the compensators the ship used, but the trip to wherever they were going was still eerily quiet, even with all the alarms flashing across the bridge and people trying to call out orders and reports.

Or was that just from Enalia's point of view? As she clung to her chair, it seemed like the rest of those on the bridge were responding to each other. She glanced over at the ops station where John Jones was telling her something. she could barely make out the words. Something about shields failing and end of a tunnel? It was almost surreal as she felt a pressure building in both her Trill and symbiont minds. She looked over towards the science station to Commander Sonak and was surprised to see his brow furrowed in concentration.

And then suddenly, they were out of the singularity.

The ship was no longer being buffeted.

In the R&D Lab, one of the Hera's newest transfers, Lieutenant JG Haruna Mizuhara, picked herself up off the floor, rubbing her head where she had been thrown to the deck. "Ah that's not good" she said feeling a trickle of blood from her hair. She must have a cut somewhere from the impact. She sighed as she looked at her latest research experiment, now on the floor in pieces. Ruined. She swore under her breath as she held onto a nearby workbench for support.

"What happened. How long was I out of it?" she asked herself. She looked around, she had been alone in the lab. "I should get to sickbay and sort this out" she told herself out loud as she wandered towards the door.

Back on the bridge, someone was pressing a hypo to Enalia's neck, and the world came back into focus.

Pressing her fingers to her head, the Trill woman blinked a few more times before nodding. "Thank you. I feel better now. What's our status?"

Ensign Jones replied first from Ops, somehow still clinging to his station with beads of sweat upon his anxious brow as he looked over the data he was receiving. "Shields are at... twenty-three percent and holding. We are in an unknown form of space... I've never seen readings quite like this before, Captain."

Taking over for the ensign, Paris rattled of facts from tactical, which she was watching in a subscreen. Back in her day she had flown the starship and manned the ship's weapons, and with the opportunity at hand, she couldn't help but frustrate her own subordinate to enjoy the modern starship's capabilities. "The three D'Deridex ships that preceded us in are here and are on minimal power. Looks like there's roughly eleven hundred crew between them. Reading consistent structural damage, but still maintaining minimal shields. One of them is likely going to lose life support in less than thirty minutes."

Looking up at the viewscreen to confirm what the readings were saying, Ensign Jones swallowed and reported his distressing discovery. "We are receiving no sub-space frequencies of any kind, and there are no detectable celestial bodies... there are no stars."

From the science station, Sonak provided more details.

''Sensors detect only the gravity and nuclear bonds of the ships in the immediate vicinity. There seems to be only space beyond. You will notice that our ship's chronometers, except our inner mental 'clocks', have all stopped.''

A glance was enough for anyone to confirm this unexpected situation, so Sonak continued.

''This means that our own mass, and that of the other ships should will us together; navigation corrections will be needed to avoid collision. However, we are also all drifting into a definite direction. This means that, somewhere in that space, there is something of considerable mass present. To have this effect and remain undetected by our sensors, it has to be something far beyond even the most massive star cluster ever recorded; or close by but undetectable, like a galactic super black hole as is projected the universe will become at the so-called end of time.''

Looking again at his instruments, the somber scientist tried to make sense of the strange readings he was given.

''There is no subspace domain present; meaning warp speed and subspace communications are impossible. Thrusters, impulse, batteries and generators, shields and weapons should remain unaffected. Yet, there is a minute drain of all power sources; as if this void is... slowly consuming them. And... there is this.''

He shifted the viewer to visualize the readouts. To their eyes appeared a roiling blackness with, at a distance, the occasional stream of sickly, green gas-like, swirling, indistinct shapes in this darkness. No stars or other light sources other than the occasional wisps of sparkles and gasses were in evidence.

''Sensors cannot identify the basic nature of these... clouds. Their signal is being absorbed. The infinitesimal drain we are experiencing on our systems points toward that location.''

Adjusting the readouts, the chief science officer brought up on the main viewer a magnification to show a great oblate sphere of luminous sand grains on a dark velvet.

''However, there is a background radiation of electromagnetic energy, much like our own cosmic background radiation, but here of a very particular frequency; the frequency of the organic brain.''

He looked at Captain Telvan.

''As we entered this area, my mental shields rose to block this frequency. I can still feel something constantly attempting to disrupt my mental faculties. There seems to be constant cerebral activity throughout this space, which has no specific source.''

"So does that mean we are in a subspace pocket, essentially?" Paris asked, an annoying headache trying to creep up on her.

''Negative. This is not part of or linked to subspace. It is a different reality; possibly another part of the multiverse vastly different yet still compatible to our form of existence... at least for a time.''

"Then we need to find our way out of... wherever this is. That means we need the help of the crews of the other ships here." Enalia tapped at her chair's console to review the tactical readouts and saw that two of the D'Deridex ships were righting themselves but the third was not. She also saw what looked like the remains of two, maybe three, Freight Eagles closer to whatever that was out there. "Hail the other ships. Let them know we mean no harm and want to get home as much as they do and are willing to render whatever aid they need."

"No subspace, which means no subspace radio, which is how everyone communicates in this day and age. Hmmm..." The pretty pilot furrowed her brow for a few seconds, then snapped her fingers. "We'll have to use good old radio waves. Miss S'Rina, please provide Ensign Jones with some coordinates to do some tight-beam radio wave projection to the hulls of those starships out there... all of them, if you please. Ensign Jones, prepare to record our message of goodwill and cooperation and instruction of how to communicate to them."

"We're going to get fancy with the deflector dish today, folks!"

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

Not far from the location of the Hera, on the bridge of the nearest of the three Warbirds, the bridge was in minor chaos. The emergency lights were on and several young crewmembers were busily trying to stifle a small fire that had broken out at the tactical station when their shields had collapsed along with the singularity they had been helping keep open. 

Running from station to station, was a very young-looking Romulan woman with mid-length, light brown hair styled in a traditional military cut. Her skin was a dark olive and her features sharp and severe, but her eyes revealed a woman over her head as a stream of green blood came from a gash across the side of her neck she had a rag pressed to. "Centurion, I need to you lock down that panel and get our shields up, NOW! We're in here with a Federation Vessel and I would appreciate some degree of defense, if it's not too much TROUBLE!"

Stopping by the command chair, she checked the readouts from her ship's undermanned departments and the other two Warbirds, including the dire report on the third ship as she let out a sigh. But as she did, an even younger officer from the communication post called over. "Commander, we're receiving a radio message from the enemy vessel. They are... saying that they wish to discuss a halt to hostilities and are offering... aid? To come together in trust to aid one another's escape from this place? Their words, not mine, Commander."

"Rhifv Areinnye daeohre..." the young woman said as she slid into her chair, muttering the Romulan equivalency of 'when hell freezes over', before she switched over to Federation standard. "I don't know what game they're playing, but put it on screen, Arrein."

"It's, ah, audio only, Commander. Radio waves, no visual component," the comms officer reminded the injured commander.

Tucking the bloody rag under her collar and hoping it wasn't noticeable to her crew, the young woman took a breath and wiped her brow as she sat up and addressed her blank screen. "Greetings. I am Commander Arnia t'Rekd of the IRW Sei."

"Commander Arnia t'Rekt of the IRW S..." Enalia had to pause as she glanced down to confirm the name of the ship. It was literally just numbered three rather than named... "Sei... This is Captain Enalia Telvan of the USS Hera. I will assume you're familiar with the Federation's weakness of a soft heart and penchant for offering aid to anyone that may even remotely seem to need it so I'll get straight to the point."

"We're in an unknown form of space with no way of contacting either of our commands, there's no reasonable hope of rescue from the outside, your ship, in particular, is in dire straights, and whatever is out there is breaking down the remains of three of your Freight Eagles. As I see it, we are in a position to render aid however you need and if we want to survive and return home, we'll need to work together."

The buxom Trill woman then leaned forward. "And I very much would prefer not to have any more needless deaths on my conscience today."

Looking across the expanse at the empty space with only the starships onscreen, the young Commander of the Warbird looked off to the side to her science station which was working feverishly to figure out exactly where they were. Looking up from the console, two crewmembers who looked no older than twenty nodded nervously, confirming that data she had just absorbed.

Sweat was forming on her brow again as she stalled, doing her best to look like an inscrutable trademark Romulan, she leaned in her chair and as she did, the rag tucked into her collar came loose and she felt a trickle of hot blood wet the front of her uniform tunic, and she nervously chewed the inside of her cheek, never thinking she would be glad for the thick, uncomfortable uniform she wore that wouldn't let that blood show easily.

Finally, she worked up some measure of a reply, the weakness of her position reading clearly in her voice as she tried to sound intimidating. "You speak as if I am somehow unaware that the words 'return home' mean a heroes welcome for you and the executioner's block somewhere on a Federation penal colony for us. As I see it, dire straits or not, t... three Warbirds still outnumber one Starship."

It was clear, just from the voice, even to the lowest ranking officer on the bridge of the Hera, that the Romulan commander was putting on a facade and bluffing.

"Execu..." Enalia pursed her lips and considered her response carefully. "The Federation hasn't executed anyone since its founding. I also represent the Artan Empire, who supports reunification, should you choose that path. As for the Romulan Empire... I won't pretend to speak for them, however if you and your crew have family and loved ones in danger and you choose not to return there, on my honor... on my mnhei'sahe as Queen of the Artans, we will do all we can to ensure their safety."

On the bridge of the hastily named Warbird, its Commander was taken aback by a Starship Captain evoking the name for the Romulan honor-code of the Ruling Passion. On the bridge, a few of the younger crewmembers froze for a moment and looked back at their clearly inexperienced leader, wondering what she would do.

As she pondered, however, at least some of the decision was yanked rather violently from her blood-covered hands as the warbird shuddered. "What was that?" She shouted to the reconstructed science station.

"Some... some kind of... force is acting upon the hull, Commander. At the rear, closest to the disturbance's edge, shields are gone and sensors indicated hull integrity is at... 63 percent and falling." Looking around the bridge, there was a welling of panic in the Commander's eyes as she thought for a moment. 

"I am the... ranking Commander amongst the other two ships, the Hwi and the Mne." She said to Enalia, referring to the other two warbirds, whose names were clearly just 'One' and 'Four'. "I will need to confer with them, but it appears that we have... little choice but to... take you at your word"

Shutting her eyes for a moment, she brought her hand back up to replace the blood-soaked rag, making it clearly visible that she was hurt as she bit her lip and looked down in shame. "There are approximately 400 crewmembers under my command, Captain. I... will not allow my pride to doom them to Areinnye. I... accept your aid."

Sonak openly addressed his commanding officer while communications were open.

''Captain; I have a working hypothesis. Since this space is devoid of masses close by except for our ships, it is possible that there is as suspected some much larger mass exerting this attraction. It could be easily tested and possibly countered by reversing shield polarity. Since shields are graviton-based, reverting them at the current distance would effectively act against this attraction, regardless of its nature.''

"Then do so, Commander Sonak. Divert all available power to shields and extend them around that Warbird, Ensign Jones. And stabilize them with a tractor beam. Commander Paris, please get us as close as possible." Enalia was looking over her tactical display, trying to figure out if the ship could be saved or if it should be abandoned and from where she was sitting, it was looking like the core wasn't fit to last much longer.

"Acknowledged,'' the Vulcan answered as his fingers played on his console. ''Tactical, I have tested the shield harmonics and the hypothesis is confirmed. I am sending to your controls the proper calculations for shield polarity and connecting sensors to compensate for any change in the pull. Ops, I am sending you the same calculations for the tractor beam. Although it will push instead of pulling, this will make no difference as far as stabilizing the target is concerned. it will, however, help strengthen the shield's effect.''

"Close? There's a docking port over there on Deck 19. I can match speed and rotation with her and dock if you'd like. Alright, Ensign Jones, you've got the sensors worked into the tractors, let's help the old lady stick the landing, shall we? Sharing my controls, let's get into position, shall we?" As she spoke, Paris was tapping away at the console, plugging in the math to let the computer crunch the numbers, recalibrating the input if the results weren't to her liking. A dozen flight resolutions later she had it in the ballpark, which would be close enough.

"Here we go," Rita Paris engaged the thrusters, and for the first time in a long time, got to just fly the mighty starship on thrusters only, almost like an atmospheric craft. Making minute changes to her trajectory, she let the computer project the flight plan as she flew, and Rita grinned. Mona Gonadie had indeed built a wonder with this piloting interface, and the starship was genuinely a joy to fly.

"Commander t'Rekd, I believe our first order of business is the state of your ill-named vessel. Our sensors indicate that you have just over twenty minutes of life support left and the core has little more than that. Do you prefer engineering assistance or evacuation assistance?"

On the bridge of the Warbird, it's young Commander had been following the discussion over the open channel, looked at her ragged and anxious bridge crew as she considered Enalia's words. Allowing Starfleet officers into their engine room would brand her a traitor. If she ever was to return to the Star Empire, she would be destroyed. Her name would be written and burned three times. Her family's property seized. And that was all if she would even live. 

But to evacuate the crew to a Federation Starship, could mean far worse for herself and the crew. She would have no choice but to accept this strange woman's offer of assistance, which meant she would like never see the light of her homestar again. "The... the graviton generator caused a feedback to the power regulators in our engine core. It is in collapse, as your sensors determined."

"We... have lost 14 crewmembers locking down the singularity for now. If we were to reroute all available power to the core shielding, our Master Engineer believes we can keep the core from imploding. We would simply be without gravity or breathable air." t'Rekt took a long breath before she nodded. "This ship... is doomed, Captain. I have failed her and I have failed my Empire. I cannot fail those who s... swore to serve under my command."

From the helm, an officer,s eyes went wide. "C... Commander? You cannot..."

"Silence, Arrain. You are still under my command. And I am commanding that you live!" t'Rekd shouted out, wincing in pain as she did as more green blood filled the hand at her neck and she became pale and began to wobble slightly in her seat. "You have your orders. Inform the crew. We are... surrendering. Obey your oaths and I shall take full responsibility with the Imperium."

Turning back to the viewscreen, she nodded as she flumped in the seat of her cursed vessel. "I officially p... petition your aid, Captain Telvan, for... evacuation."

"Then that's what we'll do. However, in order to evacuate everyone in time, we'll need aid from your sister ships. Please have them evacuate the uninjured and prepare those that need treatment to be beamed aboard the Hera." The Trill captain, now with a clear course of action, opened a channel to sickbay. "Doctor, prepare to receive at least one hundred Rihannsu patients. I recommend you start replicating replacement copper-based blood immediately and activate the triage ward as well. We'll be beaming people in shortly."

= ^=Acknowledged Captain=^= was all Dr. Mah gave time for.

Having gotten a response back from the Doctor, Enalia turned her attention back to her olive-skinned counterpart out there across the expanse. "Now... What say we solve another issue that I think bothers both of us? Your ships have no proper names and are just numbered. To the Artans, a ship without a proper nameplate is no real vessel of the stars. Just a boat without an oar. Yours may be doomed, but I think she at least deserves a name to remember her by, don't you?"

"My sisterships may yet survive. They deserves true names, Captain. I have... done this ship and her crew a disservice. But you... know the ways of my people well." t'Rekt tapped instructions into the console of her chair. "My sisterships may not agree with my orders, but they will follow them, Captain."

Pulling the soaked, green rag from her neck, t'Rekt wobbled in her chair and muttered as she clutched the arm. "Perhaps the SubCommander will... will... have a suggestion for a name... when he replaces... replaces me. Our shields are down and remaining power is being rerouted to contain the singularity core. We are collecting our injured in our medical bay for transport now." As the blood loss finally became too much for her, the young officer passed out in her chair.

From the science station, one of the two young officers ran over to check t'Rekt's weak pulse and tapped the console. "Captain. Our Commander speaks for her entire crew. We are ready."

Enalia nodded and gave the order. "Then prepare for mass transports. Ensign Jones, coordinate with the other two warbirds - I want everyone off of the IRW..." The spotted woman paused a moment before a thought came to her - perhaps a bit of inspiration from the voice of the Subcommander out there. Her father's ship had been named Third Star, and with what happened to it, she felt it was fitting here for some reason. "I want everyone off of the IRW Nuseir Saeihr ,and a safe distance between us in less than fifteen minutes."

"Aye, Captain. Transmitting beaming frequencies and protocols now for evacuation and assigning responsibilities to each vessel now." The Martian Ensign's hands flew across his consoles - this was what he was best at. Spreadsheets and assignments like this. He'd have most of this done in less than a minute and beaming would begin in... "The worst cases are being beamed directly to sickbay now. The Warbirds report receipt of the first wave of evacuees as well."

"Subcommander, will you join us on our bridge?" Enalia asked, even as t'Rekt was beamed away.

Looking at the empty chair a moment, the young SubCommander nodded respectfully, but anxiously. "As my Commander has ordered, I shall obey."

"Aaaaaaand-" there was a metallic 'T-CHUD' and a bit of vibration, or lack thereof, as the docking maneuver was completed. "Docking accomplished, handshake made, we are good to evacuate, Captain Telvan." With that, Paris spun around in her chair, crossing her legs in a clearly practiced pose as she beamed the million-watt smile she pulled out when she was particularly proud of herself.

"You did say close, right...?"

Trapped within the unusual and inexplicable realm that the crew, as of yet, had no name for, tensions were running high on the U.S.S. Hera.

Stuck within the bizarre, black void of toxic gasses where no stars could be seen, the Hera had been sucked in by an artificially created singularity that had deposited them in this disconcerting reality. A singularity that had been created by four, specially equipped Romulan Warbirds, three of which had been pulled in with them. Now, all four ships needed to come together and pool their resources if escape was to be possible.

The crew of one of the Warbirds, 400 Romulans and their injured commander, had been beamed off of their highly damaged ship. The healthy crew members had been send to one of the other two Warbirds, but the nearly 100 injured crewmembers were now packing the Hera’s now-overburdened sickbay.

Escorted by a security officer, the damaged Romulan ship's commander stepped in the door of the Hera’s conference room to confer with the command crew what she knew and could share to ensure all of their survival. Badly injured in the event, she had been expertly healed by the Hera’s medical staff, but it did little to alleviate the anxious young Commander’s mood.

Commander Arnia t'Rekt of the newly re-christened Warbird now called the IRW Nuseir Saeihr, or ‘The Third Star’… a decided improvement over its original designation of nothing more than the number three… was still in her slightly blood-stained uniform as she looked over the assembled officers in their garish, brightly colored uniforms. The Starship appeared to be run by a motley crew of alien races that caused the woman from a closed and notorioulsy prejudiced culture to raise an eyebrow.

Sitting at the end of the table, was the crimson-clad Captain of the ship. A Trill woman with prodigious physical assets that seemed to have a wholly inappropriate grin for the situation. Sitting next to her was an enigma of a woman in a gold uniform t’Rekt didn’t recognize with proportions even more unlikely than her captain. But Romulan intel wasn’t remiss and t’Rekt knew Starfleet rank markers, and this seemingly human woman as a commander. Ergo, a woman of power and importance.

Across from the blonde human, was a tall, lean and solemn-looking Vulcan in blue. So physically like her own people, but with that ever-present air of arrogance that she found in all his people, that put her even more on guard. Next to him was an Andorian woman in gold that was busy studying a data plan. And across from the Andorian, the woman in blue she knew was El-Aurian from her time in sickbay, and the only other officer she knew by name as Doctor Tovanna Mah, who had tended to her wounds and had the sickening audacity to offer her a child’s confection for simply bearing her pain.

The confused Romulan commander was young, but her preconceptions well established as she stepped to the table at military attention. “You wished to see me, Captain Telvan? I have, with your permission, spoken to the other two ship commanders and I am authorized to speak on their behalf in this mission as the highest-ranking officer.”

"Yes, please, have a seat." The spotted woman motioned towards the empty seats at the briefing room table. "We're all in this together so I appreciate your cooperation in this matter. There's a way out of every box - it's just a matter of finding it. It's my hope that, without compromising your own protocols, that we can work together towards finding our way out of whatever box it is we've found ourselves in."

"As for where we are, after referencing a few old documents and conversations I've had with Odin over the years, I believe this may be the dumping ground of the Asgardians. Sort of a tenth realm under Niflheim where they send things they want forgotten." Enalia waved one hand in the air offhandedly. "Or I could be completely off. Either way. So what's our current status?"

"Shields are holding, but slowly fighting a losing battle to the entropy of whatever's not out there. We're still not entirely certain what happened to half the hull of the IKR Third Star, but I believe there are some hypothesis which include the fact that we are not, in fact, alone here, and the entities who dwell here may not only be massive but an anathema to life as we know it. Or more specifically, mass. We have the graviton generators on two of the warbirds reading as still functional, if we could get some juice to them. The graviton generator from the Third Star is still intact, but again, no power, plus she couldn't get into position and remain stable."

"If we could set up all three of the graviton generators inside this space, we have no idea where we're trying to navigate to with the warp gate. Apparently, Rendal used some of the math she got from the Gaia information in Dox's head, but I'm not sure how we could access that data. If Lieutenant Commander Dox were here, we could likely manage something, but... she is a universe away at the moment. We're assuming that you had presets for the generators?" At the last question, Paris directed it to the Romulan commander.

Sitting near the other end of the table, the hesitant Romulan Commander chewed on the inside of her cheek for a moment. She had decided to accept help from the Starfleet ship. She had agreed to work with these aliens for their mutual benefit, but this was the moment when she had to commit to the openness required to do so, and openness was generally not her strongest suit. 

Swallowing what scraps of pride she had left, she looked down slightly from Paris' eyes and replied truthfully. "Presets? No. Not even that much. Commander Rendal... Her flagship controlled the generators remotely. The Iurret activated the generators, set the frequencies, everything. The operational computers and equipment were installed only three days ago and were designed to hold no data."

"We were... there to keep the machines running and our noses aimed in the right direction," t'Reck said, realizing as she said it that she and the others on her ship and the others that had opened the rift they were now trapped in, had been expendable. Sacrificial, if need be. And the thought lodged like a stone in her stomach.

For just a moment Enalia wished she had Mona here to at least act as a living lie detector before brushing the thought from her mind. They would have to trust each other completely if they hoped to escape wherever they were and as a Starfleet Captain, the beginning of that trust had to start with her.

Nodding solemnly, the Trill woman took a deep breath and let it out. "That sounds like something Dalia Rendal would do. We have the scan data, but there's still a lot we don't know. That missing data is aboard the Iurret... In Commander Dox's head... And in the datacore full of our memories and thoughts that was recorded shortly after the Gaia incident by Lieutenant Clemens that will be used as the subconscious personality matrix of one Kodria Mizu."

"After the Tribunal I had a sort of visitation by a being calling itself the White Rabbit and Moira was one of the people I visited right before Kodria's activation." The spotted captain tapped at the desk interface and brought up a holographic display of a cylindrical data storage device a bit larger than most but otherwise seemingly nondescript. "Which means we're likely going to violate the Temporal Prime Directive again since the data is also likely in the copy of herself that Kodria left in our systems."

"See, all this meddling with time," quipped the human woman born in 2233. "Well, she left an aspect of Kodria here. What we're after may or may not be a part of our onboard version. I'll have a word with her and see if Mr. Sonak and I can't help her plumb the depths of cosmic knowledge for a trail of metaphysical breadcrumbs to get us out of here. We'll need those codes, Commander. Also," Paris snapped her fingers then pointed casually. "I'm gonna need to know the political officers of your vessel who are now on ours. All of them. Please," Paris pleaded with those big blue eyes.

"Because if the Tal'Shiar can screw something up out of spite, you know they will. I think we can all agree it's pretty clear they intended no witnesses," Paris pointed out; as they were all now sharing the same fate, even the loyal Romulans. "So how about if the coordinating vessel identify the loose cannons, please? I really do want to survive this, and 'vanished, never to be seen again' is something I've had on my tombstone a few times already. I'd rather it not ACTUALLY come true."

"Agreed. I’ve cheated Death. I’ve tricked my way out of death and patted myself on the back for my ingenuity. However, I've never faced Death. If you want proof of that, she has a room on deck eight. You can go ask her yourself. I'd go talk to her myself, but I can't see her, and I have no intention of ever doing so." With a grim look, Enalia tapped the holo-display back off. "Therefore, to both remove the need for her services and to ease the consciences of all involved, I must mirror my first officer's words."

Dr. Mah quietly looked at her Captain and XO, "If we have need to speak with Death we are on very good terms since we frequently come into contact serving the ship as I do. I can to speak to Death on your behalf should the need arise for....whatever reason." With that, she looked pointedly at the Romulan captain then back to her own. She knew she had zero influence on Death in any manner but she was betting the Romulans didn't.

Looking back at Rita, t'Rekt stiffened slightly. There was something about the golden-clad Commander that she didn't like, and she couldn't put her finger on exactly why, but under the circumstances, she didn't trust her people's natural distrust. 

Pulling a PaDD out of her pocket slowly, she placed it on the table, and taking a breath, pushed it towards Rita. "The command codes of... of all three ships. But to gain access, each ship's commander is also required to submit the data manually as our security also uses biometric encryption."

Glancing at Enalia, she continued. "Each of our ships came with an Intelligence officer to report to Commander Rendal directly. My ship's is very dead, I'm afraid. One of the fourteen lost in engineering when the graviton generator overloaded."

"On the Hwi, the officer is named SubCommander ir-Jhaan. One the Sei, it is SubCommander Sieeve." t'Rekt said, shaking her head lightly. "These ships. Us. Our crews. We were... assembled only days ago. Most of us... myself included promoted from lesser ranks to our current positions. I cannot speak to either officer as a Romulan, or to their loyalties. I can only say that I tried to avoid my watchdog as much as possible on this mission."

"Perfectly understandable." With a bright smile, Enalia changed gears. "So now that we have the start of a plan, what are our options from here? How long do we have? What's the decay rate on the Third Star's singularity? Will we be able to at least salvage it and use it to get out of here?"

"My Master Engineer says that our emergency shutdown of all non-essential power usage has stabilized our decay rate significantly. As is, the singularity should remain stable long enough to effect basic repairs." T'Rekt replied, folding her fingers together. "It should at least be possible to attain a level of functionality to assist in any efforts to escape from... wherever we are."

All this time, Sonak had remained silent. For one thing, he knew from experience that emotional beings needed time to adjust to one another before being able to work together. So he took this opportunity to make several calculations in his head before addressing his commanding officer.

''Captain; there may be a way to stop the drain and even restore power to all ships. Since there is no actual gravity in this area but that generated by the mass of our ships and whatever other source is distantly acting on them, it should be possible to use this to generate power for our own use.''

He activated the holographic projector to show a strange contraption that looked like a segmented metal snake undulating on watery waves.

''On Earth, during the later half of the twentieth century and centuries before that on watery worlds like Bolarux IX, power had been generated by what could be called tidal turbines. Essentially, it is a link of generators powered by the coming and goings of the tides, the movement of each segment of the chain under the moving waters producing the energy then converted into electricity.''

The image switched to the four ships at station-keeping to one another and visualized what he explained next.

''If our engineers can make us something akin to twenty-second century grapplers, we could link all the ships with power cables and let them drift with the gravitational waves of this unknown, undetected mass. Thus, we should be able not only to... ride the wave as it were, but the movement will produce much of the same effect. It will be a slow process; I estimate forty-seven hours for restoring full power if we ration our current consumption to the strict essentials. But it will slow our movement towards whatever is pulling at us and eventually bring all our systems to nominal status; we will then be able to reactivate the Romulan gravimetric projectors and effect an escape from this area.''

"The man from Vulcan has a plan. Thex, can you give us something like what Sonak describes? Assuming so, Captain, authorization?" Paris turned to regard first the sapphire-skinned sprite from engineering, then the spotted captain, seeking her decision on the common-sense plan in the outlandish circumstances.

The Trill woman tapped one finger to her lips thoughtfully. The Artans had used similar techniques in the distant past as well so she was vaguely familiar with the science, if not directly. After all, history was one of the lessons in which she had drilled into her.

Finished studying the holo-display, Enalia eyed her Rihannsu counterpart with a grin. "Commander t'Rekt, I may be the highest-ranking joint commander in our little fleet here, but I won't proceed without your approval since this involves interconnecting the power systems of all of our vessels. What say you?"

Linking ships. Allowing Starfleet officers access to her command codes. Allowing those same officers access to her Warbird's engines, computers and technology. The list of crimes that would be linked to her disgraced name continued to mount. Looking down, she began to wish that it had been her ship these officers had destroyed before the rift collapsed, and not the noble crew and commander who had passed to Vorta Vor. She wished that when she was but an Arrain... the Romulan equivalent of a Lieutenant... that a week ago, she had somehow turned down the inexplicable leap in rank to the Command of her own ship. But she had chosen her path to save the lives of the remaining crews, and had committed to that shame too deeply to worry about her own disgrace now.

"My only interest is in the survival of my crew and those of the Hwi and the Sei. I will approve what I must and shoulder that responsibility, Captain. You... have my approval." t'Rekt said, a noticeable weakness in her voice as she gave up what she considered another ragged shred of her honor, her eyes never lifting from the table.

"Thank you, Commander. On my honor, your faith in us won't be misplaced," Enalia replied, her usual piratical smile softening. "All right everyone, let's get to work. We've got lives to save, and little time to do it in."

As the universe turned inside out in a cosmic spectacle of gravitic and stellar forces being violated until they shrieked, Ensign Fiona O'Dell's finger hovered over the 'execute' button in the cockpit of the experimental Silver Banshee prototype craft she was piloting. She'd done her damage and warped out in a short hop that left her thousands of kilometers away from the space battle she'd been participating in a moment ago.

Now, after a rather spectacular explosion of a D'Deredix class battlecruiser which she herself had caused, and the formation of an inexplicable bubble of energy had formed in the theater of operations, the scanners seemed to show nothing. Previously there had been 3 more Romulan battlecruisers, the USS Hera and another 9 support craft from the Hera, as well as the IKR Iurret. Now there was just empty space.... no rift, ho starships, no nothing. Checking her scanners to see if she had vastly overshot her mark with the little warp hop she had done, O'Dell verified she was in the right spot of the universe- everything else, it seemed, was gone.

"Green leader to nest, this is Leprechaun calling the chicken coop- Hera, do you copy?"

Silence.

"Hera, this is Ensign O'Dell reporting in- do you copy? Gold leader, blue leader, red leader, sound off."

More dead silence was the response, which was starting to make the little lass in the pilot's seat a bit anxious.

"Leprechaun to base, anybody, do you copy?"

"Starfleet vessel. I am receiving you." came a strange voice from the comms.

"Ah, and who exactly would you be, aye?" O'Dell responded, more out of curiosity than anything else.

"My name is... Garnak. I am the pilot of the towing vessel... 7 X 9 dash Vee." came the stern sounding voice with the trademark attitude O'Dell recognized from her conversations with Mrs. Dox back on the Hera.

'Soooo are ye with the Romulans, or...? O'Dell was busily scanning local space to seek out the source of the signal, finally deciding that a fuzzy patch of space a few hundred kilometers off her port bow was the most likely source.

"I am a proud Romulan. I live in service to my house, and to the empire and was assigned to this mission by my Mistress." The ever-so-slightly anxious response came, illustrating that if it was the Tal'Shiar, they were doing one hell of a job making themselves sound like a scared man trying to sound in control.

"So are ye seein what I'm seein? That the whole fleet is joost... nae there?" O'Dell ventured. She couldn't trust this individual, but right now, she had to admit she was glad to hear a voice. Being all alone out here would be a bit daunting.

"My sensors show no other vessels. The mothership left with the station I had been assisting in towing out of that spatial rift, but the other ships appeared to be... pulled in when it collapsed," the Romulan on the other end ventured, which verified what Fiona's scans were revealing. The sensors were telling her it was a gravitic spatial rift event, but the rest of the facts and figures made little sense to the tiny test pilot. She was a flyer, not a scientist, and this phenomenon looked to be far out of her league. Right now she wasn't ruling out a Romulan trick, or any other wild notions that might pop into her head. So it was time to see about building a little trust.

"Well, ye want to decloak so I have a bit more chance of believin' ye?" she asked, and a suddenly visible fuzzy sensor blob became defined as a smaller, squatter version of the T'liss haulers. The ship was roughly the size of a small freighter, shaped almost like a chibi version of the vintage Romulan ships of the Commander's era. The hull was scuffed and worn, but the sensors in the Banshee revealed just one individual on board and almost all engine, nacelles, and tractor beam emitters. All towing power, and the most rudimentary of offensive weapons.

And, most importantly, a damaged propulsion assembly and a fried field coil. For all it's engine power, the ship would barely be able to achieve 1/5th impulse, and at best only for an hour or two.

"Well, alreet then I guess ye are a glorified tow truck," O'Dell muttered under her breath, then tabbed the key to her mic again. "So what did yuir people joost do oot here, because I dunno aboot ye, but I canna see me starship, nor inny a' yours, nor pretty mooch innything but empty space oot here. Whatye got, aye?"

"I was assigned my mission, and as your sensors no doubt have revealed, I am incapable of escape." The voice said, a defensive edge to it settling in. "I was not made privvy to mission details, and to ask would not... not have been my place."

"Aye, alreet, that's pretty fair, I'll own," O'Dell muttered into the open mic channel, then read off what she was seeing on her scanners of the Romulan vessel. "So yuir a wee bit damaged over there... it dinna look like ye have a radiation leak into the compartment, so yuir nae goin' innywhere's, but ye're nae in immediate peril, aye?"

Over the comm, O'Dell could here a bit of fidgeting and button-pushing before the man's voice replied again. "No, I do not believe so. At least, not from radiation.

"My... propulsion is damaged. You have... scanned my offensive and... defensive capabilities. Honor... dictates my... options as... limited " he said as the Banshee's sensors detected a spike in the small towing vessel's engine output. But O'Dell could hear something else in the man's voice as it paused between words: fear.

"Hey noow, are ye setting the... HEY! NAE! You stop that self-destruct sequence right noow, y'hear me! Yuir nae captured and I am nae boarding ye, so there's no need to blow yuirself oop! C'mon, fella, we might be the sole survivors of this..." As she said the words, the realization that Briaar and Minnie might be gone struck at the heart of the picayune pilot like a dagger, but she refused to believe that. The Hera was tough, and her little family was safe out there. They HAD to be. But for now, Fiona felt compelled to stop the self-destructive Romulan tugboat driver.

"Please. I've nae interest in hurtin, capturin or takin yuir secrets," O'Dell pleaded, realizing that facing the possible deaths of everyone she served with was considerably more than she was prepared to bear emotionally. Thus the fate of the Romulan pilot marooned out here in deep space with her was somehow more important than it might ordinarily be for her. "I'm beggin ye, please dinna blow yuirself oop. Ye kin take me captive if it'll make ye feel better, aye? I dinna ken if ye kin tell, but these other two ships are joost slaved to mine, and they're unmanned. So really is joost ye and me oot here. So please, what do ye say... please dinna off yuirself, I'm beggin ya."

Inside the Romulan Freight Eagle, it's pilot sat, fingers over the console for a long moment before he replied. He had not yet set the sequence to explode and, in truth, didn't want to die. "Why... why do you care? My ship holds no secrets, save its technology. And I am sworn... sworn to obey my duty to... to..."

Pausing, his voice dropped at the realization that his mistress had left him to die with these orders. "My mistress... escaped. She... left me here."

Then, his voice hardened again, just as false-sounding as before. "No! This... this is a Starfleet trick. I shall not be swayed from my... my duty to... to the Empire. I am a LOYAL Romulan, Human!" At which he stopped himself and his voice took on a quizzical tone. "Wait. ARE you... human? Your speech pattern is unlike any I have heard before."

His hand hovered a little further away from the controls that would destroy him as the distraction of the question was enough for him to postpone the execution of his command just a bit longer.

"Wahhhhhl, I'm from a wee planet called Mariposa, in truth, but aye, I'm a human fer sure. But that's nae important reet noow! I'm nae tryin ta trick yez, it's joost... look, me paartnedr and me daater are on that starshjip that joost vanished wi'three a yours. And I'm tryin' real hard reet now ta not be thinkin aboot that. So seriously, what's it g'win ta take to convince you I'm not tryin' ta trick ya nor hoodwink ye... I joost want ye to live, is all." There was a pleading quality to the woman's voice, which she spelled out plainly for the enemy she'd found herself marooned with here in deep space. "We might just ha' lost a few thousand here, and... c'mon, nae ye too. Ye kin kill yuirself if yuir fleet comes back, alreet? But if not, don't ye owe it to yuirself to at least report in as the sole survivor?"

As she spoke the words, a cold hand of fear closed around the heart of the brave little pilot, and tears came to her eyes as she shoved aside the very real possibility that her family, her friends and her entire command might just have been swallowed by a cosmic phenomenon. But for now, she focused on the one life she might be able to save- that of a stubborn and suspicious Romulan tugboat pilot.

"You do not... you cannot under..." The voice said over the comm, cracking slightly as well. The man could clearly hear the desperation and fear in Fiona's voice and it mirrored her own. "You... you..."

Then, his tone changed entirely, and there was a vulnerability that hadn't been present previously. "What is... what is her name? Your daughter, Ensign O'Dell? Tell me something of her. I need to hear you speak of her."

Desperate to clutch at any straw that would prevent her from being alone out here, O'Dell banked into a standard scan pattern, the War Chicken and the Cherry Bomb flying in unison alongside her Silver Banshee. While it might not be Starfleet protocol, she'd talk about her wee one if it kept the fella talking.

"Ach, well, Minnie... Minerva's her first name, but we tend to joost call her Minnie. Which is funny because eventually she's g'win ta be bloody enormous," O'Dell warmed up, before she started rambling, as parents could do about their children. "But she's the sweetest little darlin ye ivvir did see. Good tempered, good natured, doesnae want to hurt a fly, gentle, caring. Ye kin see it in some bairn's eyes, y'ken? That they want ye to be happy. As a child, that's what make's 'em happy, is seein you happy. And she does see that, let me tell you... ohh, our wee Minnie, she laughs and giggles and snorts. A right rum sort, our wee one. I think she's aboot ready fuir preschool, give or take. Smart as a whip, too. Briaar, that's me paartner, she teaches her how to taker stoof apart and poot it back together, and she's gettin' it! Startin to make her letters and startin ta string words together. She's... she's joost a wee bundle a'sunshine that the sun kinda rises and sets on in our family quarters."

It was obvious that she'd gotten carried away talking about the focal point of her life, and O'Dell refocused on the task at hand, getting the readings from the area. There seemed to be a number of dispersing gravitons, with a particularly peculiar dispersion pattern. "Sorry... when it comes to me bebeh Ah can go on. What aboot ye, any little thruster pilots back home?"

There was a long pause and the sound of buttons being pressed over the comm. Then, after nearly twenty seconds of silence, his voice returned. "I... have a daughter as well. Her name is Faeoh. It means 'rain', in our language. She was born at the end of a long drought that decimated much of the land I worked. When she was born, the rains finally fell and we saw it as a sign... from the elements."

On the Romulan tug, its lone pilot let out the lightest of breaths as his mind settled. Whoever this strange human was, whatever purpose she truly served, he knew that the words she spoke of her daughter were true. He had heard her speak the truth and now knew it's sound upon her lips. And he now believed her other words, as well.

As he spoke, the sensors on the Banshee registered that the power buildup in the mid-sized towing vehicle had returned to normal, the build-up halted. "I would see her again in this life... if at all possible. My vessel came equipped with no navigational charts. I've... no idea how far we may be from any bases or worlds."

"Well dinna ye worry, me Romulan chum, because old Fiona's got it all. I've got star charts and alla that mess, I know joost where we are, and how far from there to here. What's got me puzzlin is what happened to the ships of our respective fleets, aye? No debris is a vurrah good sign, I'm hopin'," Fiona chattered on, relieved to hear the Romulan wasn't keen on blowing himself up. "Not that it looks like yuir ready to get to inny of 'em soon, but here's our coordinates... I took the liberty of pointing oot distances to a few places, includin home fuir ye, so's ye kin know how far to your own wee one- for now."

"We're gonna git oota this, ye and me, and yuir g'win ta see yuir Faeoh again, Garnak. Ye joost stay calm and leave it to wee Fiona, aye?" Knowing it probably wouldn't make a difference, she sent over the scans she was receiving. Unlikely that the tugboat captain would be able to make much sense of them, but Fiona meant every word- she was sharing information freely, because she wanted the man to trust her, and for all she knew he might be a brilliant astrophysicist. Either way, she'd be better to include him than not.

Again there was a moment of silence as the Romulan on the other end of the comm reviewed the data. Then, after a moment, he replied. "If our ships were pulled onto the other side of the singularity, then it is completely reasonable that they are intact. I... I have..."

Another pregnant pause filled the void between the two small ships before Fiona noticed a data packet come across her screen from the Romulan ship. "My job was one of the multiple ships to tow the derelict space station out of that region. It was unlike anything I had ever seen. It was... just blackness. No stars. Nothing. But... my ship has the most minimal of sensors. I have sent you what data my sensors collected from my time inside the rift."

"Well hey, lookit us makin progress, aye? Alreet, now..." there was a pause while the pixie pilot chose her words carefully. "I think we're gettin along fiine noow, so time fuir me to come clean. We're not completely marooned oot here, mate. In aboot three hours or so the USS Persephone is g'win ta be comin' along, and she's g'win ta offer ye aid fuir yuir damaged vessel, and they're goin' to want ta try to help our people- both our people- who might joost be on the other side of that rift. So... lettin ye know, alreet? I'm nae tryin' ta trick ya or noothin and I dinna want ye to be panickin' when they get here, y'ken?"

Immediately, he began to panic on the other side of the comm. Not because he didn't believe Fiona, because he wanted to. But because a lifetime of indoctrination against Starfleet was near impossible to ignore outright. but so far, he felt that the strange alien had yet to lie to him. He believed the desperation in her voice when she begged him not to initiate his ship's self-destruct.

He wanted to believe her. He wanted to survive, and for the first time in his life, he realized that he had more to fear from his own people then he did from his enemies. "Ensign O'Dell... If my ship is taken. If I am taken, my daughter will be... punished. She bears my name and would be put to blame for my crimes. But..."

Thinking for a moment, his mind raced as the Romulan man struggled with his situation. "But... perhaps if my actions can save those three Warbirds. Perhaps then... I can earn her freedom. Earn a true name."

"That's the spirit!" O'Dell crowed from the other end. "Look, yuir ship's nae g'win to be taken. I promise ye that, and trust me, I've got a lot of firepower here to back oop me word. I won't let yuir ship be 'captured'. It might get 'repaired', but ye remain a free man, and aye, I'm thinkin ye joost might be a hero if we play our cards right, aye? Ye and me workin together to save alla our people. I would be happy to give ye the credit, that ye secured me help and ye directed efforts and alla that. Tell the folks back home whatever version ye like and tis fine with me. But with these readings, I joost might have me an idea how to help our people lost on the other side of this thing. Are ye with me, Garnak?"

Listening, Fiona could hear an audible sigh. "I... I choose to trust you. Please. Be true. it is said that humans have no mnhei'sahe... no honor. But... but. You have shown honor."

"I dunno how honorable I am, m'friend, but I am a lass of me word. I want to see me big space pig and me wee munchkin agin, joost as much as ye want to see your wee Rain. Ye and me, we're g'win ta save the lot of 'em. I'll nae fail yuir trust, Garnak. Still a few hours until the Persephone arrives, though. So... no state secrets, no violation of orders or our respective services. But we can tell kid stories to wile the time, aye?" Taking the pause on the other end as acquiescence, Fiona O'Dell launched into a tale.

"This one time we went on vacation to Earth, to see Ireland, which is where my people colonized from. So we found this advert for a haunted castle, and we thought it'd be big fun, and nice for Minnie to see her culture a bit, aye? So we get to the castle, and reet off Minnie's fascinated..."


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

On the bridge of the Intrepid-Class Starship, Persephone, her captain was visibly nervous as she stood ahead of her chair, arms folded behind her back between the helm and Ops stations.  Captain Naraan Seria was a tall, stern-looking Cervan woman in command crimson. Her eyes had a half-lidded, judgmental expression and her jet black hair was up in a large bun on the back of her head, which emphasized the slight points to her ears that indicated, along with her olive complexion, that hers was an offshoot of the Vulcan people.

But not so close to her Vulcan ancestors that her emotions were in any way controlled, as she nervously twisted her hands together behind her back and spoke, "Range? Do we have anything?"

"We are in sensorrrrr rrrrange now, Captain. There is massive residue of Grrrravimetric disturbances in the sectorrrr and significant ionization... but no sign of the Herrrra or the Rrrrromulans." The young, gray-furred Caitian at Opps said. "Howeverrrrr... I am picking up the transponderrrr signals of fourrr smallerrr crrraft. Thrrrree Federrrration, one a Rrrrrromulan Frrreight Eagle."

"And rrreceiving a hail from the Starrrrfleet crrrraft, Captain. Frrrrom an... Ensign Fiona O'Dell. Also, with significant data packets frrrom the vessel." the Caitian at opps added.

"Excellent, Miss Rainaa." The Captain said as she looked over to the helm. "Mr. Pickins. ETA?"

The young, dark-skinned human man at the helm checked his console and nodded. "Dropping out of warp in 6 minutes, Captain."

"Also Excellent." The lean Cervan woman said as she went back to her command chair. "Tactical. Yellow alert. Keep a lookout for any distortions that might indicate a cloaked ship. Sickbay, prepare for injured. Science, I want a detailed analysis of all sensor readings available. Prepare Class 1 probes as needed. And open the comm, Miss Tommat. Visual if possible"

The computer replied with a pleasant chirrup as the Captain spoke. "This is Captain Naraan of the Federation Starship Persephone. We are receiving you, Ensign O'Dell."

"Well, top o' the mornin to ye!" came the cheerful voice from over the comms. "Me and Mister Garnak here was just catching oop, waiting fuir ye folks to arrive. Noow, his starship is crippled, and I convinced him nae to self destruct. But I need yuir word that he's not to be boarded or captured, as he's willing to help us try to recover the Hera and the battle cruisers from the other side of the spatial rift they got sucked into. But he canna be captured or potentially betray any Romulan secrets, and I promised him that wouldnae happen, alreet?"

There was a moment of silence on the bridge of the Persephone as her captain raised an eyebrow and processed what she had just heard. Both the information and its unorthodox source. "That was an extremely... bold promise for you to have made, Ensign. However, the Federation is actively trying to not let this incursion escalate into open conflict between us and the Star Empire. That gives us some discretion to make... accommodations."

"For now you can assure this... Mister Garnak... that we shall honor your... promise. At least pending further information and your debriefing." Captain Naraan continued. "Now, we are still reviewing your data packets and will have a great many questions about this... spatial rift and the whereabouts of the Hera. What is the current status of you and your vessels? Do you require immediate assistance in a capacity, technical or medical?"

"Wahhhhl, this is an open channel, mum, so he's been listenin to every word," O'Dell pointed out, rolling her eyes where no one could see. "As for me current status, all three vessels are undamaged and at full capacity. I've a theory or two me and Mister Garnak have cooked up while we bin waitin' on ye, and we'll damn well keep me promises to Mister Garnak, mum, wi' all due respect. His vessel's damaged but in no danger, he has refused offers of mechanical assistance and he is within his rights to be oot here in neutral space. So we'll be keepin' them promises to him, Captain Naraan, if 'tis all the same to ye."

As she said the words, the three Starfleet vessels took up defensive positions around the small century-old craft- not pointed to contain it, but to defend it. While the little pilot made no threats, the positioning of her ships made it abundantly clear to all involved that the unspoken ending of her statement was 'if 'tis all the same to ye... unless ye want a fight on your hands'.

Raising an eyebrow, Captain Naraan smirked ever so slightly. It was clear that Captain Enalia Telvan's crew were as unique and direct as the woman herself. "Very well, Ensign. I would much rather discuss your data and theories than engage in a standoff over a situation that does not need to exist."

"And since this is, as you pointed out, an open channel. You may rest assured, Mister Garnak, that our primary goal is recovering our missing vessel, along with yours. If our interaction here can be of benefit to all parties, all the better. On that note, I will extend a welcome to come aboard with the assurance that you will be safe, and your vessel protected and untouched."

On the other end of the frequency, the Romulan man was quiet for a long moment before he replied, just not specifically to Captain Naraan. "Fiona, you have assured me that I shall be safe, and I trust you. I shall agree."

"See? Invited aboard, nae taken prisoner, free to return to yuir ship whenever ye like. We come in peace, aye?" Angling toward the Persephone, O'Dell sent the traffic control request to land first the Cherry Bomb, then the War Chicken, then the Silver Banshee. The shuttle bay could hold them all if their own Class 2 shuttle, the Type 6 shuttlecraft, and the Type 8 shuttlecraft were moved to Shuttlecraft Bay 2, the maintenance bay for all three craft.

"When this is all over, we'll raise a pint, ye and thee and the Captain there makes three. Cuz ye know wot?" O'Dell postulated to the Romulan tugboat pilot. "If I had to make a wager, somewhere on the other wide of the universe there, me own Cap'n is workin' with yuir fleetmates reet now ta git ivveryone home, sure as God made little green apples."

"I assume those are good things, Fiona. But perhaps when this is over, we may share that drink. Until then, I have secured my ship's controls for beaming," Garnak stated over the comm. 

From the bridge of the Persephone, Captain Naraan replied flatly, "Excellent. We are making accommodations in our main shuttlebay for your craft, Ensign O'Dell. Flight Control is sending you landing clearance now. We shall be beaming you aboard to the pad on the flight deck so I can welcome you both aboard personally. I shall meet you there. Naraan out."

As the channel closed, Captain Naraan stared at the screen a moment. "Well, that was... interesting."

"Innnnnteresting is a worrrd forr it, Captain..."

Meanwhile... Back on Miradon...

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

On April tenth, 2397. Tala, Amihan and Hlai’vana GoDox were born on the planet Miradon. By that planet’s calendar, it was the 40th day of Low-Winter of the year 485. On the Romulan calendar, it was the 10th day of the second week of the first month of air, low Eisn, the year 1824 After Shipfall. But for their mothers, the Miradonian Mona Gonadie and the Romulan Mnhei’sahe Dox, all that mattered was that they were there, safe and healthy.

The day after their birth, the doctors at the Aerie had released the children and their birth mother, Mona, from their care, having declared them well and healthy and the new family and their rather large entourage of women from the Starship Hera made their way back to the hotel where they had reserved an entire floor for the visit.

Settling in for what was scheduled as another week and a half on Mona’s homeworld, the children seemed to receive no end of attention. Of the three, it was Amihan with her golden plumage over most of her tiny body that seemed to lap it up the most, preening, singing, and smiling. It was clear very early on that the tiny, half-avian, half-Romulan girl loved attention and did her best to hog it from her sisters.

Not that Hlai’vana was a slouch at getting attention, she just seemed to go about it in a decidedly different way, trying to climb as high and crawl as fast as her tiny body could take her as soon as she wasn’t being actively held in place. She was also the first of the three girls to learn that their innate instincts as half-Miradonian chicks were somewhat at conflict with the denser bones they inherited from their Romulan side. Almost straight out of the womb, Miradonian chicks were usually capable of short bursts of flight, flapping about like chickens trying to soar. But Vana was quick to discover that even on Miradon’s reduced gravity, that their dense bones and overall builds were too heavy to do anything more than pull off the slightest of glides for any more than a meter at the most.

The blueish-green feathered Tala was the quietest of the three. She would often just sit and watch her sisters and her parents. When their friends would come in to play, she soaked in all of them. She would examine Ethel Jablonski’s bronze bracers and her Grandmother’s pointed ears, which were just like their own. She would stare in awe at the goddess Hera, their copper-colored eyes capable of seeing the woman’s aura. She had an amazing curiosity and loved to take everything in.

As Miradonian chicks were telepathically bonded with their parents while in the womb, and still could connect with both parents empathically through touch, they were capable of the most rudimentary speech on their first day out. ‘Nona’, or ‘Mother’ in Miradonian was their first word, though little Vana was the most talkative of the three and was the first to call Mnhei’sahe ‘Ri’anov’. ‘Mother’ in Romulan.

In what was something of a surprise to Mnhei’sahe, her mother Jaeih was hard to keep out of the room, even when they were all exhausted from the day. The woman who had been working extremely hard to be the mother she had failed to be when Mnhei’sahe was a child seemed almost obsessed with turning that around, and when the children called her ‘Nonala’, or ‘Grandmother’ in Miradonian, Mnhei’sahe was shocked to see something that was almost alien on her mother’s face: tears of happiness.

For the first few days immediately after their birth, everything had gone remarkably well. The children were healthy and the extended family was enjoying the time to bond and to relax, free from their respective duties for a few uneventful days.

Six days after the birth of the triplets, however, something had changed. The aura of the goddess Hera had changed in a way that was visible to both the children and even to Mona, and the goddess of Women and Families recused herself to meditation in her own room. Something was wrong, and Mnhei’sahe was curious.

At the door to her chamber, Petty Officers Jablonski and Liu also seemed worried when, on that sixth day, while Mona was putting the triplets down for a nap, the Romulan flight chief came to check on Hera. “Have you talked to her at all, Ethel?” Dox asked at the door.

“Just a little. She insists that she’s fine, but somethin’ is bothering her.” The mountain of muscle who was intensely devoted to the Goddess said, clearly worried about her charge.

“I won’t press if it’s too much, I promise. But I want to see if I can talk to her, if that’s alright?” Dox asked, looking up at the giantess with a warm smile on her face. She could have made it an order, but she knew better and defaulted to asking.

Looking at the door with concern, Jablonski nodded. “Uh… yeah. Just… like you said… don’t stress her out and… and could you… uh…”

Nodding, the much shorter, red-headed Romulan put her hand of Ethel’s arm and smiled. “I will let you know whatever I’ve found out. Don’t worry.”

After a moment, Dox stepped into the expansively large, curve-walled hotel suite the goddess was staying in and waited in the foyer. “Hera. It’s Mnhei’sahe. I was hoping I could talk to you for a moment.”

The matronly goddess had been kneeling on the floor staring out the open window for what felt like centuries, when in reality it had only been a few hours. Her people had a way of compressing their consciousness during meditation though, so that when they searched the planes and cosmos, they had all the time they needed. Still, no matter how hard she tried or how long she looked, she could find no trace of who she searched for now.

Sensing that another searched for her, she returned to her senses and leaned forward, her legs now numb from kneeling for so long. “Ah… Yes… If you could help me up…”

Rushing over to Hera’s side, Dox knelt down and put an arm under the clearly distressed goddess to slowly help her to her feet. And while Dox didn’t know Hera near as well as she should have, she had an idea of what she had just watched. The young Romulan mother was also friends with the woman named Masato Rei. The embodiment of Death. And she regularly meditated in such a fashion, and it usually meant that she was not entirely there.

“Are you okay? You looked like you were… somewhere else just now.” Dox asked softly, keeping her arm under Hera’s until the goddess indicated where she wanted to go.

“Thank you… I…” Hera paused a moment, motioning towards one of the plush Miradonian couches in the large apartment. “Yes, I’ve not been able to sense Rita through our bond so I’ve been searching for her. I fear for what this means.”

Immediately, Dox’s stomach tightened at Hera’s words as she walked her slowly to the couch and gently lowered her to a seated position. She knew the Hera would be out of communication as an Intel ship on a mission. And worse, she knew the Hera was chasing a lead on the whereabouts of the Romulan renegade, Riov Dalia Rendal, and had been working to not think about the poor timing of her being off-ship, but now those fears were boiling back to the surface.

She knew that Hera and Rita shared a unique bond, but little more about that. But it was now clear that bond was a literal one as she sat next to Hera, still holding her arm. Whatever strength the goddess that had once saved her life could take from her, she would give. “Rita’s gone? You can’t sense her? What does that mean?”

The questions were a little more rapid-fire than she should have let them out, but Dox’s natural anxiety was showing on her proverbial sleeve at the moment. “I am sorry. Please. Take your time.”

“Ah, no… It’s ok,” Hera replied with a soft smile, doing her best not to let her own worry and anxiety show. “I suppose I should explain a little better. Similar to the bond you share with your wife, I have a bond with Rita. She spared me and my life became hers and through a… Let’s just call it a life debt boon… She’s essentially become like a daughter to me and I can sense her presence no matter what realm, dimension, state of being, location…”

“And yet right now, I can not…” The elderly Ambrosian closed her eyes a moment before continuing. “I can sense that the bond is there, but not Rita.”

Nodding, Dox pursed her lips and thought for a moment, trying to think rationally. “I can try to send a message to Admiral Meowlith, but she couldn’t tell me anything useful over subspace. Fvadt… I don’t even know if she would tell me if she knew if something was wrong. I’ve only talked to her twice now, after all.”

“So. You can feel that your bond to her is still intact, you just can’t feel where she is?” Dox asked, hoping the clarification would help her think out the issue.

Hera nodded solemnly. "Yes, I can tell she exists and I worry that something dark and terrible is near her... But otherwise, I am unable to locate her in any way. And I remind you I was able to watch over her struggles in the dimension of Kathoom as if I were invisibly there, even if I could not aid her."

Listening, Dox simply nodded. She wasn't a scientist, she was a pilot. But she had been called on to ba a lot of things she hadn't been of late, and this would be no different. While she was wearing a simple pair of black workout pants and a loose-fitting green top, her Starfleet commbadge was still on her chest as usual, and she was inexplicably the highest-ranking officer on the trip, so choosing to act in whatever fashion she could, she tapped that badge. 

"Dox to Doctor t'Liun. Please make preparations for our early departure." the anxious but focused woman called to the Commander of the Artan Bird of Prey that was under her aegis, not as a Starfleet Officer, but as an Artan Baroness.

"Is... there a problem, Commander?" The Romulan doctor replied over the comm with a touch of concern in her voice.

"I'll tell you once I know, thank you. Dox out." She said, somewhat tersely before turning her attention back to Hera. "So... does this mean that she's... somewhere outside of reality as we know it? And what about you? It looks like trying to find her has taken a toll on you? What do you need?"

"I suppose that is what it means, yes," Hera replied, nodding solemnly, gazing up at Dox wistfully. "I could use a moment of rest and a bite to eat, I suppose. Everything here is so full of energy, anything is fine. As much as I want to search reality for her forever, I know it will do little good as I am now."

"Then rest." Dox said, knowing that Hera's powers were limited and that she likely strained herself far more than she was willing to admit to try and find Rita. And her mind wandered for a moment to someone else. Another friend that might be able to help. But she put that thought away for a moment and smiled at the matronly goddess warmly. "Let me order up something. I'll be right back."

Stepping across the room, Dox called up the room's computer library on the wall near the door. Searching through it a moment, she found the record of Hera's past meal orders and found what she seemed to favor in the week they had been there. A large plate of egg pasta smothered with local vegetables and a bottle of Miradonian cava wine. It had been ordered four times, so it seemed a safe bet.

The food was cooked fresh, and beamed to the room so Dox put the order in, along with one other item in specific. And while she waited, she kept busy opening up the windows to let the fresh, midday air in and prepared a small table in front of Hera. A few minutes later, there was a chime and a flutter of energy as the ordered meal appeared in a sparkle of energy in the dining table.

Stepping over, Dox picked up a small item of food off the tray and put it in her blouse pocket and then carried the rest over. Setting it down, she poured Hera a glass. "Let me know if this helps, Hera. I'll let you eat, but I won't be far. I'll just... be on the balcony for a bit so you can rest."

"Thank you, my dear. I'm sure everything will be fine and we're just worrying for nothing. Rita and that captain of yours have a knack for getting out of mortal situations, don't they?" With what she hoped was her best smile, Hera did her best to project the confidence she didn't feel at the time as she prepared to eat the pasta and vegetable dish she had come to love since coming to this world. It had almost become a comfort to her, with all the various flavors of energy they had lovingly cooked into it.

And then there was the wine. One could become addicted to wine of this caliber. It was no wonder there were deities still roaming this world with wine this delectable.

With a warm smile, Dox nodded assent to the freshly feasting goddess who looked a little better with the meal. "You're probably right, Hera. Enjoy your meal, I'll be back shortly."

Stepping out onto the balcony and walking across to the far end, out of Hera's sight, Dox didn't want to bother her, not that she had any idea if what she was trying to do was even possible. Overlooking the beautiful city of Quen'quen on her wife's homeworld, she pulled the small item out of her pocket and began fiddling with it as she leaned over the balcony.

Looking out, the city was built all on curves and circles within circles. On the streets walked a rainbow of different colored Miradonian citizens, all going about their days, unaware of the goddess in the hotel room above them. Or who the strange Romulan woman was hoping would hear her. Looking at the piece of Miradonian Nepara fruit in her hand, Dox spoke.

"Months ago, you told me someone was always listening. You were there when Rendal took my father from me on that ship. And... I know that the rules of your station forbade you from helping me then. But... back then I didn't know." The young Romulan spoke softly, but up towards space. "I didn't know what I know now. And, if you are listening, Rei, I need your help."

Several long, tense seconds passed as Dox stared at the teal sky. Clouds lazily floated past as the twin moons almost seemed to hang motionless as the wind died down and went silent. Then suddenly there was a crunching sound from the nepara fruit. On her other side, Rei was staring up at the sky with her as Taxes munched on the Miradonian fruit with the white flesh that resembled a cross between an Earth apple and nectarine.

"Do you need help staring at this beautiful sky?" Rei asked a hint of a nervous grin on her face. "Or is it related to..."

Looking over at her unusual friend in black, Dox rubbed the ethereal equine on the side of his head while he chewed on the strange fruit. "I guess that answers Tova's question from the bachelorette party about whether of not I can call you."

There was an awkward chuckle as Dox tried to calm her nerves at the situation. "It is truly beautiful here, but no. I'm afraid there's more. It's the ship. Hera... she has a bond of some sort with Commander Paris... with Rita. And she has been struggling to locate her. She says the bond is still in tact meaning Rita's alive. But she reached out and couldn't find her in the entire universe. In ANY universe she can sense."

Turning towards the pale woman who, in life had been a Japanese human before accepting her role in the cosmic balance, Dox continued. "I know Rita herself isn't in your books. That she somehow exists outside of fate. But the ship. The others. I do not mean to ask anything of you that would task you beyond the rules I know you are beholden to, but is the Hera... Do you know anything?"

The pale woman continued staring up at the sky, her grin turning into a bit of a frown as she concentrated. Still further, her brows furrowed, cracking her dry skin as her eyes moved about, silently searching for... something...

Then finally, she relaxed, closed her eyes, and let out a sigh. There was much she could say, but little she was allowed to say since her friend would act on any words she now uttered. She'd have to choose her words carefully so that the others didn't get pissed at her.

"I believe my bedroom is missing. The clothes I left there vanished into a hole that I believe leads to where many higher beings toss dead and slumbering ancients called Undrheim." Rei sighed again, this time a bit more softly. "But you've already seen one of these holes before, haven't you? That's how I can get away with even mentioning it, even though I can't see there. No one can."

"No one sees in, no one sees out."

"Holes?" Dox muttered her response, her mind working to interpret what she knew Rei had to tell her in pieces. "Where higher beings toss... Slumbering..."

In her mind, the young officer was juggling everything that she knew. She knew the Hera was going after Rendal at Glaonrdan Core. She remembered that that was where they had first encountered the Regal Romulan at the former Starbase she was a commander on. The joint Romulan/Starfleet operation where it turned out that the Romulans were secretly experimenting on a sleeping godlike being called a Titan.

"The Titans." Dox said, working through her memory. "At Starbase 336, Odin pulled the station and the sleeping Titan away into a spatial rift, out of our universe. Then, Gaia opened up one when we... Hnaev!"

Cursing in her native tongue, the young woman began making connections in her mind. "We got clear before Odin took the station away, but we were almost pulled in when Gaia opened her portal. Imirrhlhhse."

Thinking, Dox ran a finger over her ear nervously. She knew that the Hera was chasing a lead that Dalia Rendal was going back to Galorndan Core... Where Starbase 336, HER former station, was taken from her. Then, another, darker thought occurred to her.

"No... Oh no. Dhat, dhat, dhat. " The Romulan woman muttered, looking at her friend with fear in her eyes as she bounced back and forth between Federation Standard and Romulan, repeating 'no' a few times in her native tongue. "Rendal. When she had me. When I was her prisoner, she tried to rewrite my mind in that machine. I resisted it, but she... she got something that Gaia had buried in my mind. The White Rabbit, she called it... a map to find Gaia. If Rendal has that information. If she used it..."

Hanging her head slightly, the spectral steed, Taxes, leaned in and put his head softly against Dox's face. With a slightly strained smile, the anxious Romulan woman rubbed the side of the horse's face. After a moment, she spoke again. "Thank you, Rei. I know you told me more than you probably should have, and I greatly appreciate it."

Rei nodded solemnly, once more staring into the teal Miradonian sky. "D?shi..." She uttered the word to Dox as she would a confidant, a comrade, a kindred spirit - for to her, that's what it meant. "If you act upon this... And I know you will... The others will likely exact a penance upon us both. I do not know when or what it will be. I only pray that they return to where I am able to one day guide them to the afterlife."

"If it's any consolation, I don't know if there's anything I can do with this. I... I have no idea how to get what Gaia left in my head out. The last time, it took being hooked up to that horrible machine and fighting back so strongly that it almost broke me. Plus... the actual shard of Gaia... I gave that up... I think. That memory is... a little hazy, admittedly. So, the information might not even still be up here." Dox said, starting to pace a little on the balcony, prompting Taxes to walk alongside her as she did.

As she spoke, she stopped next to Rei and put her arm on her friend's shoulder, trying not to think about what kind of penance might be called down upon either of them or what kind of door she may have opened in asking Rei for help.

"But, at least I have an idea of what happened. And, really, all you did was confirm what Hera told me, so in that regard, all you really did was give me a name to something I had already seen." Working through it, Dox chuckled and shook her head. "Heh. I'm getting too good at this kind of thinking, working with my Grandmother in the Senate."

Rei puffed out her cheeks in consternation like an upset child. "Well, what did you call me for then if you just wanted to confirm what you already knew? Just so I could jog your memory into remembering it? That sounds like something they would do, you know... Always using me to remember what living was like since I'm almost the youngest..."

Biting her bottom lip, Dox didn't realize that her comment was as thoughtless as it was. "No, no. I'm sorry, no. That... that was just my foolish way of trying to be clever. I'm sorry, Rei."

"No, I called you because... because I didn't know. Because I needed to know if they were really... just gone. Somewhere else." Dox said, her voice cracking slightly. "Because... I'm frightened. But... I shouldn't have asked you. I... I am sorry. I just... didn't know what else to do. I'm sorry. I... I didn't think about the consequences. And I didn't think about how my asking would affect you, and that was... thoughtless. Selfish. Wrong."

Speaking, Dox tightened up and her stomach twisted itself into a knot of guilt as she realized just how Romulan she could be and she felt disgusted for it.

The pale woman wrapped her arms around her friend and buried her face in the cloth of the top she was wearing in as tight of a hug as she dared. "I'm just tired is all. I just... I'm sorry too... This job, it wears on a person. The White Rabbit was human but I think she's gone nuts. The rest are so removed from whatever they were... Cleverness doesn't work with them - it's absolutes and black and white and I just want to relax and with you I feel like I can."

Taken aback, this was the most human Rei had allowed herself to be with Dox and the young, conflicted Romulan returned the hug. "Yes. Yes, you can. You can always relax with me, Rei. And I'm sorry for putting this on you. But again, I do thank you. Whatever happens because of this, I... I don't know how, but we will deal with it together. I promise."

Tilting her head down slightly, Dox looked Rei in the eyes. "You have shared so much with me. Given me so much. And above all, you've been my friend, often when I've often needed one the most, so I promise to be a better one to you."

"You are my D?shi... my comrade... my kindred spirit..." Rei's shoulders shook slightly as if she were crying, but as she looked up at Dox, there were no tears - perhaps a bit of dust around the corners of her eyes and that was it, but the emotions were definitely there. "I will always be there for you and soon you'll need to be there for your friends aboard your ship. I know little about Undrheim, but that it is where beings older than us go to die and slumber for eternity."

"Then, I'll do what I can to make sure I'm where I'll need to be." Dox said as she nodded and offered her friend a warm smile, keeping her hands on Rei's arm. While they couldn't touch skin to skin without it being somewhat fatal to the vert mortal Romulan pilot, but as Rei was clothed, it was safe. And more importantly, that basic touch was clearly what she needed at the moment.

Then Dox's tone shifted slightly, with a touch of concern in her voice as she knitted her brow slightly. "This... Undrheim. Would that be where... you would eventually go? Or, would you be freed to move on once this station wasn't yours anymore?" It was a remarkably difficult topic to bring up, considering the primary way that the woman known as death would leave the job would be if another claimed it. And the person currently being considered for that position was, in fact, Dox herself.

Stepping back and wiping the dust from her eyes, Rei smiled softly. "If I were to stay in this position for too long, it's a possibility but realistically, once you reap my soul, it's up to you what happens to me. I would no longer have a say in the matter and you... Or whomever takes over... Is free to decide my place in the afterlife."

"Well... that's a bridge we would have my lifetime to worry about." Dox said, smiling lightly in spite of the fear she felt at that prospect, doing her best to turn the moment towards the positive as best as the generally negative woman could. "But until then, I'll do what I can as a friend to remind you who you are."

"And I'll be here to remind you that I enjoy a good meal with a friend as much as anyone else," replied the pale woman, starting to return to her usually calm self. She then turned back to the teal Miradonian sky, her smile fading. "For now though, I hope we can eventually share a meal under a beautiful sky like this."

In truth, Dox's friendship with Rei was important to her. In some respects, she saw her own issues reflected in the woman who, while looking like a Japanese human teenager, was almost 2 millennia old. WHO Masato Rei was as an individual was regularly overshadowed by WHAT she was: the embodiment of Death itself. The reaper. It was a job that defined her to the rare few that could even see her and she was judged by how people interpreted that job. 

As a Romulan in Starfleet, there was something familiar about that. The scope and scale of it might have been cosmically different, but the flavor was there and Dox wanted Rei to feel as much like a normal woman as possible, and she went out of her way to do that for her unlikely friend. 

Finally, after a long moment, Dox nodded with a wry smirk. "When this is all over, we will. But for now, I need to get everyone moving, for which I thank you again. I'll do what I can to not piss off the others by doing anything foolish." 

"Thank you, D?shi," Rei replied with a smile that for a moment lit up her face so much that she glowed a healthy pink and radiated the warmth and life that she must have had when she was a fifteen-year-old newlywed woman back on Earth, so long ago. Then as silently as she and Taxes had arrived, they were once more gone.

Standing, now alone, on the balcony, Dox smiled and looked back up at the beautiful teal sky. She thought of Rei, who had been alone for hundreds of years, judged for what she was rather than the compassionate individual she was. She thought of her unexpectedly sweet, spectral equine Taxes who all but forced Mnhei'sahe to get over her fear of horses. Then she thought of her new family. Of her bond-mate Mona and their three new children who have quickly become so much of her heart, mind, and soul. Looking up to sky, she then thought of Rita, Enalia and the Hera. Her family and her home, and she stepped back inside.

Walking over to where the goddess of women, marriage and family was taking another sip of her wine. "Are you feeling any better, Hera?"

"I am, thank you my dear," With a soft smile, Hera nodded softly and set aside her now almost empty plate. "I will have to see if we may take a supply of this wine with us when we leave. Was your conversation on the balcony fruitful?"

Smirking ever so slightly, Dox nodded. Clearly, Hera was aware of what had just happened, though her only real reason in stepping outside was to not tax the weakened goddess. "Well, I used to smuggle Kali-Fal as a girl, so legitimately purchasing a few crates should be easy enough. I'll take care of that before we head out, but we will be heading out as soon as we can."

"I called Rei.. which I didn't know I could do... but she told me that the ship is in a place she called the Undrheim."

The matronly goddess scowled a bit before recomposing herself and finishing her glass of wine. "I vaguely remember my husband mentioning a place like that a time or two. I'm sorry, my memories of those days are not what they used to be. I'm not sure if I'll be of help, but if you think I can be, please... do not hesitate."

"You've done more than enough, so far, Hera." Dox said, looking over and smiling gently. "You put yourself out here for my family, which you didn't have to do. You've regularly given of yourself to us on the ship when it would knowingly take energy from you. I thank you for everything you've done and your offer of assistance, Great Hera."

While she spoke, Dox picked up some of the empty dishes and carried them over to be reclaimed from the small kitchenette. "In truth, even with what we know, there may be... little any of us can do. I know Rei is concerned that any actions I take will anger the other cosmic forces, so I will do my best to... tread lightly. But, I'll be getting us packed up. We know where the Hera WAS and we will be heading there ourselves as soon as possible."

While Dox was trying to be what she, in fact was at the moment: the highest-ranking officer there and essentially in charge, she was also clearly working hard to contain her own tremendously conflicted emotions at the situation as she politely took her leave of the weary goddess.

One by one, she explained the basics of the situation to the rest of the crewmembers that had taken of themselves to come with her and her wife for this event and did her best to be what they needed her to be: calm and in control. But as she returned to her own room to prepare to leave her wife's homeworld and take them all off to see if they could help find their missing ship and family, Dox didn't feel like a woman in control.

She felt like a woman afraid that the universe may have already punished her for her moment of happiness. In the back on her mind, she was terrified that, for the crime of having a happy family of her own, she may have just lost the rest of the family she had found on the Hera.

Captain's log, Stardate 72373.72. U.S.S. Persephone. Naraan Seria, commanding.

Under orders from Admiral Meowlith, the Persephone has arrived at the Galornan system, only to find that not only has the U.S.S. Hera vanished, but that there is no sign of the Romulan vessels we were sent to intercept. All we have now are three experimental Starfleet vessels from the Hera and their pilot, one Ensign Fiona O'Dell. And a Romulan Freight Eagle and ITS pilot, a man named Garnak.

Ensign O'Dell and this... Garnak were beamed aboard the Persephone and, while O'Dell is free to move about the ship, the Romulan has been appointed a security detail. While the unorthodox officer from the Hera made the somewhat infuriating promise that the Romulan would be free to come and go as he pleases, I want more answers from them both. However, I know full well that the Hera's Captain, Enalia Telvan, has some kind of extraordinary pull with the Admiral, and so I am deferring to her persistent officer, for now. I shall lodge my issues at a later date.

That said, Ensign O'Dell has insisted on the Romulan sticking close to her, and the two had collected a significant amount of sensor scan data on the spatial anomaly that they claim to have taken the Hera, along with three additional Romulan D'deridex class Warbirds, into some form of alternate space. The Freight Eagle had been WITHIN this alternate space, and has provided its limited scans.

If I had my way, the Romulan would be in the brig and my engineers would have already dismantled his ship for all the information we need, but I am choosing to trust this Ensign O'Dell, as Captain Telvan must have, to have put her in control of the rather remarkable vehicles we have in our docking bay. All in all, I am extremely uncomfortable with the current situation, and have no intention of taking orders from an Ensign that barely comes up to my chest. However, my Chief Science officer Lieutenant Jharan says their scan data is sound and, as such, will be joining myself, Commander Garan, Ensign O'Dell, Chief Engineer Raquel and the Romulan Garnak in the conference room to discuss some sort of... plan that O'Dell and the Romulan have.

I sincerely hope I don't regret allowing this latitude.

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

Stepping into the Intrepid-Class starship's conference room, Captain Naraan Seria did not look amused. The tall, stern-looking Cervan woman in Command crimson had a half-lidded, judgemental expression and her long, dark hair was pulled back to show the slight points of her ears, coming from an offshoot of the Vulcan people. But her expression was enough to reveal that her particular people had no compunctions with showing their emotions.

Already at the table was the Chief Engineer, Lieutenant Commander Christine Raquel, a curly-haired human woman with a stack of PaDD's in front of her and a few more pounds around her middle than the Captain would prefer of a command officer. But she was an efficient officer who knew her engines and got results. Across from her, the ship's First Officer, Commander Garan Taa was pacing at the window by his seat. The burly, barrel-chested Bajoran man didn't like the current situation any more than Captain Naraan did, but was doing his best to keep those feelings to himself.

A good officer that will one day make a fine Captain, She thought. Once he learns to govern his passions. Typically Bajoran and hotheaded, but it has served this ship well.

The chief science officer was also reviewing a data PaDD as they sat in the far corner, as usual preferring to keep a bit of distance from the others. It was an eccentricity of her race, who avoided touching others quite religiously, that the Captain found irritating. "Lieutenant Jharan, please join the group. Thank you. Now..."

The skittish young man, a lean-built, tall Va'Norian covered in a thin teal fur blinked a few times before hesitantly getting up and sitting next to the Chief engineer. "Aye, Captain."

Looking around the mid-sized room, the Captain narrowed her eyes. "...where are our... guests?"

At that moment, striding in came the diminutive O'Dell in the lead, followed by Garnak and his two security officer detail. "... so I get her all worked up to talk to her dream girl, aye? And she promptly threw up on her shoes!"

Turning to greet the assemblage as they entered, O'Dell offered a broad wave as Garnak chuckled at her story. As defensive of the Romulan pilot as she had been, it seemed O'Dell was not letting him out of her sight. Nor was she doing anything less than working hard to put the man at ease. He was alone in enemy territory, at the mercy of his captors, and he knew it. Only O'Dell's threadbare promise to him was keeping him going at this point, but she had defended him at every turn, had worked to keep him at ease and to stay beside him. All of which went quite a ways toward insuring his cooperation, which was now proving invaluable. After all, only he had scans of the singularity from the other side, and only he had been where the Hera had gone. Thus what he brought to the table was significant.

Aside from all of that, Fiona O'Dell had given the alien pilot her word. She had convinced him not to destroy himself, she had convinced him to cooperate. Now all they needed to do was rescue the starships trapped in the twilight lands beyond all reason and sanity that existed in the void with no stars, and he could get back home to his wife and child. That was all Fiona wanted right now, and she knew the Romulan pilot felt the same. Worlds apart, they had found common ground, and O'Dell would make good on her promise to him, she was determined.

"Alreet, Cap'n, Commander, Lieutenant Commander, Lieutenant. Ye've had time to review our data and our plan- to flood the area where reality still looks a bit thin after that spacewarp with Gravitons, to try to light a candle in the window to give the Hera something to lock onto and navigate home. So, I assume this is the meetin' where ye tell us tis too dangerous and untested and it might reactivate the warp or suck us all in too or any number of hazards?" While she delivered the entire diatribe with good cheer and a smile, it was clear that the seemingly harmless moppet with the untamed mane of crimson curls had both an agenda. It also seemed clear that she seemed accustomed to dealing with superior officers who were more cautious than the diminutive daredevil.

Standing at the end of the table, Captain Naraan raised an eyebrow and gestured to the two empty seats between her own and Lieutenant Jharan. "Ah, welcome to the meeting, Ensign. Please, have a seat. You as well, Mister Garnak, and we can begin to go over this idea of yours."

Standing to wait for O'Dell to comply, the Persephone's mistress was purposefully ignoring O'Dell's set up for a moment.

Looking back to nod at Garnak, O'Dell slipped nimbly into a seat and folded her hands before her, sitting up straight- presumably, because not much of her cleared the tabletop sitting in the chair adjusted for a normal-sized humanoid. A close-lipped smile on her face, those big green eyes opened wide, and blinked once or twice as O'Dell sat in silent, rapt attention.

As Garnak slowly sat next to Fiona, he mirrored her posture somewhat nervously. He was as out of his element as could be imagined, and it showed. Meanwhile, the Cervan Captain looked down at the Romulan pilot and took her seat as her First Officer did the same to her left.

"I have had my Chief Science Officer, Lieutenant Jharan, and my Chief Engineer, Lieutenant Commander Raquel, look over your data, Ensign O'Dell. We have all reviewed the details of your plan. Lieutenant, if you will?" The Captain said, sitting ramrod straight in her seat.

"Aye Captain." The blue-furred young man said as he swiped on his PaDD and the data appeared on the large screen across from the table. "With the data provided, we have been able to make a gravimetric map of the region, including the left-over effects of the collapse of the artificial singularity. Unfortunately, that collapse did have the effect of completely distorting and obscuring the ion-trail of the escaping Romulan vessel and the remains of Starbase 336 that were removed from the fissure. BUT we do have quite solid frequency data from the sensor records of the Silver Banshee when Ensign O'Dell destroyed one of the Romulan Graviton Generators."

Sparing a light smile for the red-curled test pilot next to him, the reserved Va'Norian continued. "And scans of Mister Garnak's hull have a residue of the vibrational frequency of wherever it was that his ship was occupying. That, combined with the frequency data means we may be able to not only implement Ensign O'Dell's idea, but with even greater efficiency towards the goal of recovering the lost ships on the other side." 

At which point, the Cervan Captain interjected. "Excellent, Lieutenant. Thank you. Now... Mr. Garnak, what can you tell us further about these other Warbirds that are on the other side of this spatial rift?"

Glancing slightly at Fiona, Garnak cleared his throat as he replied anxiously. "M... my knowledge is limited. The nature of this mission required a high degree of secrecy. I was transferred into my new mistress' service specifically for this mission, and assigned the vessel I was piloting. The High Command is not in the habit of sharing sensitive data with those that need not know such things."

"Indeed. Illuminating." Captain Naraan said flatly as she crossed her fingers in front of her. "And Ensign O'Dell, as pilot of the three craft we recovered you in, you engaged one of the initial four D'deridex craft in question and destroyed one of them, did you not? What would you consider the potential odds that the Hera is still intact on the other side against three additional Warbirds? I have... concerns that all we will be doing if we enact your plan, is inviting three enemy ships an open opportunity to attack us."

"Aye, wahhl, if ye reviewed me logs, ye know they were vastly unmanned- skeleton crews at best. While Garnak's experience might be unique, I dinna think so. Seems like someone pulled a fast one to get those ships oot there to do this magic trick 'a hers, but dinna care mooch aboot them. I mean look, me wee little fleet of experimental fighters oot there- they are brilliant designs, make no mistake. But they couldnae hae destroyed a D'deredix class with full offensive capability, not... wahhhl, mebbe acuz it was me at the stick. But overall, this fine starship here would have a reservation against goin' toe to toe we' one of those battlewagons."

"Point bein, they weren't mannin the guns, just the shields. If they ended up on the other side o' the universe with the Hera, ye kin guarantee Cap'n Telvan made peace with 'em right quick, the Starfleet way. To put aside our differences and work together for a common goal. That's the message 'a Starfleet, aye?" While not the most professional response, it was at least an accurate summation of her perspective, complete with supporting arguments in data, not opinion.

"Thank you, Ensign." Captain Naraan said nodding towards the diminutive test pilot, the stern expression on her face lightening ever so slightly. "Now, to respond to your earlier statement, yes. I have significant concerns that if we begin pumping gravitons as you suggest into the exact spot where that spatial rift closed, that we risk being pulled in should your ship pick up on our intended purpose and try reopening that rift from the other side."

"As it stands, Captain, we don't have the engine power to open a rift like that on our own." Lieutenant Commander Raquel said, leaning slightly over so that Fiona could see her unencumbered as she spoke. The somewhat portly human with slightly carmel skin was talking with her hands as she continued. "But trusting what Ensign O'Dell is saying... that the Hera will be working WITH three ships ALSO equipped with Graviton emitters, they should have more than enough power to open the hole... so long as we show them where it is."

"It's like a pinhole in a black curtain. Tiny and invisible under normal circumstances, but our graviton beam would act like a flashlight on the other side. The big problem is that to have the best result, we would have to be close. Very close. And with our power strengthing the rift from THIS side, we do run the risk of being pulled in, ourselves."

As the Chief Engineer finished, she acted out the scenario with her hands as starships and the rift, respectively, making wooshing noises as she made the unintentionally suggestive gesture of sticking her fingers through the circle she was making with her other hand. While she blushed slightly, biting her bottom lip, the Captain rolled her eyes slightly. "Yes, thank you for the elaborate detail, Lieutenant Commander."

"The question NOW, is how do we light this proverbial candle in the window without being burned, ourselves." The Captain asked, leaning forward. 

The eyes of the picayune pilot darted about as she considered a way for the starship to ensure its safety. In the end, she had only one answer. "I'll take the helm, mum. I'll keep her from gettin' sooked in, and keep 'er on the right side of the rift. I know tis dangerous and all, but 'tis what the Hera'd do for us, aye? Can we do no less?"

"I could... secure this vessel, like an anchor, with my ship?" Garnak volunteered, getting into the spirit of cooperation. These people were willing to endanger themselves for their people on the other side. Who they assumed were working with his people as well. Maybe he was just buying into their Starfleet propaganda, and maybe when they betrayed him he would have regrets. But for now, he was starting to feel something reasonably alien to the Romulan pilot.

Hope.

"That's dead brilliant, Garnak! Aye, yuir wee tugboat is the perfect thing to anchor us from gettin' sucked in, along wi' me pilotin' skills, no disrespect to your flight control department, as I'm sure they're all quite outstandin pilots and sooch, joost voilunteerin' ta help oot is all, mum, aye?" O'Dell grinned a somewhat rictus grin at that one, hoping her first idea hadn't rubbed the Persephone crew the wrong way.

At this point, the gruff-looking Bajoran First officer wh had been quietly taking the scene in piped up, "Well, I do think Mr. Pickins would be a little put out at losing his job, Ensign O'Dell." There was a bit of a thoughtful expression with the hint of a grin on his chiseled face as he tapped two fingers on the table. "That SAID, I would like you to consult with him while we're preparing the science side of things. You've FLOWN ships in the kind of gravimetric shear we can expect and your expertise should not be wasted."

"You are assuming that we're committing to this plan, Commander Garan." The Cervan Captain raised an eyebrow and smirked ever so slightly.

"No, I am not, Captain. I am simply working towards acting on the decision I know you've already made, or you wouldn't have asked for the how." The burly Bajoran said with a rakish grin as he sat back in his seat. 

"Indeed. We are doing this, people. It is a sound plan, and we have ships on the other side that don't know they need us, but who I have no doubt will know what to do once we do our part. That said, there is one wrinkle left to be ironed out." Captain Naraan said as she looked back to Garnak.

"Your ship, Mister Garnak, is in need of repair before it would be capable of handling the task that you have rather graciously offered." She said, eyebrow raised. "Would you consent to my sending an engineering team over to effect repairs?"

Swallowing, the anxious Romulan's eyes went wide. The Cervan Captain was right. But repairs by a Federation Starship would be proof of his complicity with the enemy. Proof that he worked with them and let them aboard his ship. But he had already made that step by sending over his sensor logs. Nervously, he looked over to Fiona, wanting to trust these aliens he had been raised and trained to view as the enemy. 

As he did, Captain Naraan leaned back in her chair, nodding slightly to O'Dell. "If I do that, my people will know I allowed... The consequences could be... I do not know what to do."

Turning to face the mistress and commander of the Persephone, the little leprechaun's eyes widened. "Might we be able to effect repairs from ootside, mum? Make Mr. Garnak the inside man, while we work from the ootside? This way he could still tell the Romulan command that he dinna let inny Feds aboard his ship?" It was a longshot, and would not only make the job more difficult, but somewhat hazardous to the engineering crew doing so. But it was a compromise Fiona had to ask for her fellow marooned pilot.

Instead of answering, Captain Naraan thought for a moment, then leaned slightly towards the rotund engineer with the large, brown curls on her head. "Lieutenant Commander Raquel, would this be a workable solution, and more importantly, possible in the timeframe we have, which is as soon as is possible?"

"Wellll..." The portly engineer said, looking at one of her PaDD's, "The Freight Eagle blew a coil and our scans show that the power conduits are fused. Normally, my teams could have that sussed out in about two hours, max. Part of it would actually work EASIER in EVA suits for the conduit leading to the port nacelle. Otherwise, I could walk Mr. Garnak through the rest... pretty easy, I would say. It shouldn't be too tricky. Especially if I holopresenced in. There's nothing I could see that our sensors couldn't scan, and I could set the holographic for projection only, so I couldn't touch anything."

"That way... we could get it all done in... 4 point 5 hours, tops. Would that work, Mr. Garnak?" Raquel leaned over and smiled as the Romulan officer pondered his options. As he did, the Persephone's Captain cleared her throat and tented her fingers.

"Mr. Garnak. I appreciate the situation you find yourself in, and understand the weight that your decisions make, but I swear to you on my honor, that we will honor the promises Ensign O'Dell made. When this is over, you will not be held. Your ship will remain your ship. And my vessel played a part in the retrieval of Ensin O'Dell's fellow Romulan officer from the Tal'Shiar, and as such I believe her Ship and Captain may even have some pull to relay that you maintained your honor as a Romulan to your superiors. To make a long story short, we need your help and your offer is extremely appreciated. And in return, we will help you."

"Then... then I accept and give... my permission. Thank you Captain." Garnak said, nervously but with a growing resolve.

"Excellent." Naraan said with a nod and a somewhat mild, but almost warm smile. "Commander Garan, oversee preparations. Lieutenant Commander Raquel, you and Lieutenant Jharan, I want that graviton generator working and ready by Oh Thirteen Hundred hours, and the Freight Eagle up to full specs in half that time. Use personnel from beta shift if needed. Dismissed."

As the officers of the Persephone got up and left, the Captain turned to O'Dell and Garnak with a raised eyebrow. "As you understand, the security escort must remain in place, as is standard protocol. Ensign O'Dell, I would like you to meet with our helm officer as Commander Garan suggested, and make sure he is tutored in what you learned flying in these conditions. Aside from that, the both of you are invited to join me for drinks in my ready room."

"Sooo is that drink in the ready room before or after the... ah, after the tutorin, aye mum. Well, we'd be more'n happy to take ye oop on that, right neighborly of ye mum, tis indeed. We'll get yuir man a few tips an' tricks an' we'll meet ye in say twenty minutes or so, and we'll bring along yer slabs a beefcake too, aye gents?" O'Dell turned to grin up at the rather beefy security officers, one of whom chuckled slightly as she hop[ed off her chair and headed for the door.

"Alreet, c'mon Cap'n Garnak, we've some explainin aboot surfin gravitic waves to offer to some poor sod who's g'win ta think we're daft..."

Taking a journey inside one's mind to see if there was a fragment of information from one of the consciousness that comprised the core of one's personality wasn't the strangest trip Rita Paris had undertaken in this lifetime, but it was definitely up there. Now she had to make the attempt with Kodria, the fragment of the time-traveling 'niece' of the Hera who had ended up leaving a 'neural clone' of herself in the ship's computer who was now slowly becoming a crew member. After all, Kodria the original had left her behind to try to affect events that would lead to her creation, yet would be tragedies for those who comprised her 'family'. Thus Kodria the copy had gradually lost her foreknowledge advantage of the future, as the timeline diverged from the one she knew.

Once Rita had figured out that the 'pre-recorded messages' from Kodria were a bit too on point, she had figured out the living program was in the system, and had coaxed her out to begin integrating her with the crew. After all, Kodria would have to wait 80 odd years to awaken, and Rita couldn't leave the poor kid hiding in the Hera's computer core until then.

But today brought a new challenge, one that was unlike any Rita had faced before. Locked in the mind of Mnhei'sahe Dox, who penchant for trouble seemed to match her own, were equations left there by Gaia, the titan whose fragment had briefly inhabited the mind of Dox. Now that the Hera was trapped in a formless void, a space out of time, they needed those spatial calculations in order to get out of the entropic void in which they and three Romulan battlecruisers had become entrapped.

They might get out of here without the equations. But then, they might not.

Thus today found Rita reserving her holodeck of choice, to bring up a lovely Parisienne cafe in early fall, as the winds beging to pick up and bring a bit of morning chill, but not enough for her to need more clothing. Instead, oi a simple cafe on a side street on Rue J'etaim, Rita sat out front, eating a delicious flaky danish and drinking a cup of strong coffee, when she called for Kodria.

"Miss Kodria, could you join me please?" the buxom bombardier asked the empty air, knowing that her algorithms tended to alert her when her name was spoken, usually by one of the 'relatives' who knew her. "It's a lovely day in Paris, and we need to catch up on current events, I think."

It took a few seconds longer than normal since Kodria was no longer hiding and watching things from inside the ship's computer, but eventually, the holographic representation of the future android and granddaughter of the ship's captain shimmered into view with a lopsided grin on her face. "Sorry, it took me a moment to get away from the sims in the R&D lab. There are a few experiments running and I just wanted to make sure Maru was watching them before I came."

She then slipped into the other chair at the table and served herself up a glass of sparkling water and a Charlotte aux fruits exotiques to nibble on. "By current events, I assume it relates to the area of... what passes for space outside the ship right now."

"So it does. What experiments are you working on, out of curiosity? I haven't seen the reports," Rita asked casually.

"Mona wanted some further tests run on the holographic materials she developed. She had some concerns when it came to the Warchicken so I've been running concentrated radiation and weapons tests with the holographics paneling at full while blasting them with a wide range of sensors." Kodria pulled up one of her floating holo-screens that tended to hang out around her to show Rita the data being collected. "I'll admit that I may have programmed in a couple sensors that have yet to be invented yet... But I'll delete them as soon as the tests are concluded."

"The other tests are mostly just stress tests for Daycare One's new systems," Added the young lady as she sipped at her water. "The grappler arms and tractor manipulator fingers are... unexpected."

"But interesting. In the long run they may come in quite handy if Daycare 1 ever needs to deploy," Rita countered, sipping her coffee. "So I am going to assume any meeting in which your name is mentioned, you are listening, because you can review the sensor logs and study the exchange. So if that's the case, i assume you know why we're here today?"

Kodria held up one finger and spoke as if reciting protocol. "All meetings that I'm not directly involved with, official or otherwise, are purged from my memory immediately after all trigger words are logged for privacy and security reasons. That being said, since it is a matter involving me, I've logged the use of my name and the cause of that use having assumed that you would ask me about it. You're interested in seeing if, as a copy, I have the same data that's stored in the personality core that was used to stabilize the original..."

The young lady shook her head sadly. "Yeah, those algorithms. Unfortunately, I don't. Maru ran a recursive scan on my subroutines for me and none of that data is there. However, I should be able to interface with the original core, if it's still aboard."

"Original core? Meaning what now?" Rita had gotten lost in the conversation again, which happened from time to time.

"After an incident with a being I believe is called Gaia, Uncle Sam downloaded everything he remembered during the communal mind meld into some sort of personality core, and it contains the memories and subconsciousness of everyone that was in it, which eventually became the core of my own subconscious and stabilized my matrix. I believe the data you're looking for is in there. Plus, the interface subroutines are still at the core of my program."

In truth, Rita intensely disliked that there was a virtual copy that existed of her. Apparently her thoughts, memories, feelings- everything that comprised who she was on a mental plane had been copied, along with Sonak, Dox and everyone else who had been involved in that mind meld. It was an enormous invasion of privacy, and startling that to a Starfleet who couldn't reproduce a functional positronic brain they could equip the cyborg intelligence chief with sufficient onboard computing power to hold not one life experience, but numerous more, to the point of being able to reproduce them for available receptacles.

It was, in truth, a violation. Of their trust in including Sam in the mind meld, and in Sam for backing up and saving all of the data, as literally personal as it was. For her personally, being copied to be reproduced at will rankled Rita to her very core. If not for the moral conundrum that Moira Telvan would one day use those copies to create Kodria, upon learning of their existence Rita would have insisted they be eliminated immediately.

But now they were critical to a lifeform 80 years into the future, and in the here and now they were about to violate Dox's privacy in an effort to save the ship. It made Rita's teeth grind, but there seemed to be little recourse.

At which point she stopped, because there was always a choice.

"No, Miss Kodria. We will not violate Miss Dox's mind, even in a virtual fashion, for information that it contains. Not without her consent," Rita stressed, as that was a core issue here- consent. None of them had ever consented to being digitally copied, as improbable as it seemed, and Sam backing up the data and storing it was just that much greater the violation. If she was the shepherd of this life form, then it fell to her to teach the young woman morals.

"If there is no other way, we may consider it. But for now.... no. I will not be a party to such a violation of privacy. While I understand the circumstances of your creation meant you had no say in the matter, you do have a say in delving into a digital copy of Mnhei'sahe Dox's mind now." At that, Rita's tone softened, as she realized she needed to coax and guide- this was not the time for moral outrage. That would be a conversation with Lieutenant Clemens later. For now, she needed to explain the difference between right and wrong to a young woman who might not see the moral implications of a particular course. "So in the here and now, I'm going to explain that is a violation to do so without consent, Kodria. We shouldn't do such things if they can at all be avoided, all right?""

"I understand completely, Aunt Rita," Kodra replied with a soft smile and a bow of her head. "That was why I didn't include it when I copied myself over. I think that's why my mom only used the core as a subconscious guiding and stabilizing force in my matrix. I couldn't remember anything directly out of it, but all the morals and hope were here..." With that, she put a hand over where a human heart would be, but in her it was where the core was. "And it may sound strange, but I never felt alone, even on that station when it seemed all hope was lost. Somehow, I knew I would never be alone no matter what, and that someone would come for me."

"I appreciate that, Kodria. So for now, how about we work to find another way out of this mess. Why don't you review the sensor logs of the incident, and what we've put together so far, and see if you have any insights to offer?" Rita had been the one to call the meeting, so she needed to find a way to enable Kodria to participate in a positive manner. Just calling her here to find out about Sam's indiscretion wouldn't do at all.

"That I can do," Kodria replied cheerfully. "After all, scientific data analysis is one of my core functions." Without hesitating, a multitude of floating screens started popping up around the young woman, each one with sensor data scrolling past at incredible speeds, much faster than the original temporal analysis ones ever did. Soon there were nearly fifty such screens all overlapping each other displaying the raw sensor data, video records, and other various simulation data as Kodria just sat there in the middle of it all, nibbling on her pastry.

"Initial analysis will take approximately seven minutes."

"Excellent. Then we have time to catch up," the old-fashioned officer smiled as she picked up her danish and took another bite. "So how is life as only a partial ghost? I know we haven't found you much outside of Daycare 1, but you are definitely getting some interaction there. How is it? Are you enjoying it, or is it not really suiting you?"

"Changing my own mother's diapers isn't something I expected," With a soft chuckle, Kodria's infectious cheerfulness returned, as did that wonderful smile of hers. "I'm also seeing the foundation of a few things that I take for granted in my era. Not only being invented here, but just in general. It's... heartwarming, I suppose."

"You suppose? It either is or it is not when it comes to heartwarming. What's wrong, Kodria?" Rita asked, brows coming together in concern.

"Nostalgic might be a better term, but can I even be nostalgic about something I've not experienced? Is heartwarming the right term? It engenders an emotion similar to these and I'm not sure what it's called, Aunt Rita."

"Nostalgia seems to be what you're fishing for, I imagine," Rita confirmed, then took a sip of her bitter black coffee. "Well, it seems you are not pushing any technological breakthroughs before their time and leaving that for the locals, so well done there. How are you getting along with Mrs. Dox?"

"I expected her to be a lot more... Ah... Well, she's nothing like in the stories I was told so..." Kodria chuckled softly as she sipped at her sparkling water. "She's a lot nicer, for one. I'm not sure I can imagine her killing or breaking people on a whim."

Before either of them could continue the conversation, the screens floating around Kodria paused and seemed to stutter a moment before winking out one by one. "Ah, analysis is complete. I have the algorithms used to open the singularity from the other side. I can reverse the algorithms to open a singularity from this side, but... I don't think I'll have a way to set the coordinates for the other end of it. We could end up anywhere in the universe without something to lock onto."

"Or some other universe. That's a lot of possibilities...." Rita contemplated. It would be like going to warp at random, save they were doing it across the multiverse. Surely Sonak could tell her the odds of randomly managing success, but even then, for all they knew they might move chronally as well, so the potential for the Lost Navigator to get the Hera very, very lost was far greater than success. But that wasn't the point to focus on now. "We'll definitely be giving the folks back at Starfleet Command and the Science Academy some interesting data. Alright, it's at least a starting point- now we know what to do with the equipment we have to produce the effect. Well done, Kodria- you just gave us a fighting chance, and that's more than we had five minutes ago."

"I'm just happy to be of help, Aunt Rita. I'll forward the finished calculations to you once I'm done and leave a spot open for if there's something from the other side to lock onto." As she spoke, the android turned hologram poked at her floating screens, going through the data one at a time.

"Thank you, Kodria. So.... anything?" Paris spread her hands, giving the floor to the young woman. "Anything you'd like to discuss while we're here? We're here, we have time, and it's a beautiful day in holodeck Paris."

Which was when her communicator chirruped, and Rita tapped her left breast to answer it. "Paris here, go ahead."

"Commander, the Captain collapsed in 10-Forward and has been beamed to sickbay," Came the reply, and Rita rolled her eyes at having invited disaster with her choice of words.

"I'm on my way," Paris replied even as she got up from her chair, downing the last of her coffee in a gulp. "Well, Kodria, duty calls. Here's hoping the Captain's alright."

Logging the incident internally, Kodria frowned slightly. Nothing of this event was in her memory or logs so she had no idea what was going to happen, however she could at least analyze the data and come up with a most likely scenario. Then she realized she didn't need to calculate anything and smiled brightly. "I'm sure she'll be alright, Aunt Rita. She's got you and everyone else, right?"

Pausing in her exit, Paris turned and grasped the young person in a shoulder hug. "Yeah, Kodria. She's got all of us, you included- so I'm sure she'll be okay."