You couldn't tell, but the ship's chief of engineering felt like she had a pit in her stomach. She'd been putting this off for a while, but she needed to see the doctor now more than ever. Not only was this clone business worrying her, but now she was worried about her girls. If she was a clone could that affect them? Those two creatures meant more to her than her own life and if anything happened to them.

She swallowed hoping the doctor would be along soon.

Dr. Mah came out of her office typing on her PaDD and looked up surprised to see any patients in sickbay, "Well hello, I wasn't expecting you. How are you doing?" She could see something was bothering Thex and paused, "Want to talk in my office?"

The andorian nodded as she stood up and followed the doctor into her office. As soon as the door closed the andorian had collapsed onto the stool and with an outburst that shocked even her let loose with " I'm a £$£$ing clone Mah. "

Tova rushed to Thex and wrapped her arms around her, "We will handle this together, I'm here for you." She grabbed her chair and a medical towel and sat level with the poor distraught woman in front of her keeping her hand on Thex's kness so she had the comfort of contact. Tova looked at her calmly, "First, let's wipe those tears away so we can figure out how I can help," Tova gently wiped her tears away with the towel not allowing any resistance and kept the towel nearby. "Now start from the beginning, tell me everything." She sat patient with obvious concern ready to hear what Thex had to say, no judgement, just worry.

Thex breathed in hard a few times to try and calm herself down. It didn't work, but at least she was able to speak and not just constantly sob. " When we were on Risa for the party I've told you about the heiress i ended up helping. The heiress who looked just like me. According to the Risa security teams we weren't just identical, but we were the same person. Right down to the DNA level. It's probably why the thugs mistook me for her. "

The most worrying thought pushed it's way into her head. " Could this hurt Tothye and Decises?" She asked with all the worry that a mother could have.

Tova looked at Thex with compassion, "I understand now. First, being a clone will not determine who you are. You are Thex, your genetic make-up doesn't determine that, nor will it determine the type of mother you are. Your kind heart, your wonderful soul and brilliant mind will determine what kind of parent you are. Now as to the genetic composition I can look into the methodology used for your cloning procedure." She paused and took a deep breath, "There is good news and bad news to this process as we know it. It means you either met your twin or one of your quadruplets. The safest and most common type of cloning used is what's called embryo splitting. It uses an embryo and the cells are identically replicated resulting in either twins or identical quadruplets if you want better chances of more children, though the risk is higher to the birth mother. Any other type of cloning would have resulted in sterility, genetic abnormalities on your current med scans and other such indicators. Thus I think we are looking at a standard embryonic replication. It means you met your sister, not your clone and that you are not a clone Thex. It is an accepted form of artificial fertilization for some advanced cultures with low birth rates. It's merely not used within many Federation worlds because of vast medical options that no longer risk mother or child." She looked at the poor woman she just laid a heavy amount of information on, "This begs the question however, why you would have an unknown sibling or siblings?"

Thex thought through what the doctor had just said to her. " That would make sense doctor, but the religious nutters on Andor got almost all methods of artificial fertilization banned decades ago and given my family I doubt they'd break such laws."

She thought for a second before continuing better get all this out in the open. " I know this sounds ridiculous, but while we were in that pit I had a nightmare. I was in some sought of a production line with thousands of me in tubes. Some hooded people were talking about how they needed to make more of me."

Dr. Mah nodded, "The banning of artificial fertilization doesn't completely surprise me given the family centered nature of your culture partnered with its militaristic leanings. What concerns me more is how either your mother Tora or Evylao would have been impregnated without the knowledge of your fathers Relaoss or Akal." Tova calculated the viability of such a procedure and looked concerned, "The implications of such a procedure could impact your entire cuture. I will need to review your recent medical scans again. Can you stay here for just a moment?"

Tova looked at Thex's most recent postpartum scans which would give a deep indicator to any issues during a highly stressful event. Her recovery had gone well with no uninary, perineal or obstetric complications. Despite her genetic disposition for a greater exhaustion at higher tempatures she showed no signs of problems in physical stamina during or after birth. Tova was reviewing all of the records down to her DNA variables while being haunted with the concept of what it would take to produce large numbers of clones. It would mean keeping a pregnant mother in stasis and continuely replicating the embryo until it was eventually consumed. The harvest from such a method would produce viable offspring with almost no corruption of the offspring. The issue would be finding another person, a sibling to do a genetic comparison to.

She finished her thoughts and her review and returned to Thex with her PaDD, "Okay, you are definately genetically on par with myself or anyone here. I see no higher than average levels of genetic issues, if anything you are very healthy for your age and race. It is nothing abnormally high enough to alert a medical scan, however upon review I would want to see your familial records for comparison to see their ranges and DNA profiles. Would you happen to have any type of DNA sample from your parents and siblings available? I very much doubt we will be able to get the scan from Risa." Tova sighed, her mind rushing with ideas.

" My thavan's DNA should be in the federation database he is a patient at the intel hospital on dervano 3. As for my zhavey, shreya, and charanbeing and siblings no their DNA wouldn't be in any database. Impregnated without the knowledge is a taboo on andor. It was a capital punishment on andor before we joined the federation and the death penalty was abolished. Given the religion, I doubt it would happen, but without DNA proof it may be impossible to say." Thex replied wracking her brain for any memories that could help.

Tova shook her head, "No that actually helps. The thaan in your parental bonded quadruple would have only been with each other so at no point should we see the DNA structure of your thavan." Tova looked inspired and began pacing as she brainstormed, "You are a genius Thex! Each one of your male parents holds a quarter of your DNA profile, if your thavan's profile is present then only two conclussions can be had. The first is he has somehow been included in on this issue, the second is that there was a second mating somehow. Given the protractable nature of the male gentalia of Andorains and the need for emmission of certain pheromones, it seems exceeding difficult to think this was forced upon him." She looked at Thex with a certain level of eagerness, her brain processing the issue rapid fire. "I will get the data transferred over for him and compare it to your own readings. Why don't you relax a bit and I will get this processed, it may take a bit. By the way, your thavan, he was never in a bond prior to the one he entered with your parents, correct?" Tova pulled up the records for the patient she was looking for and began the comparisons.

" None that I was ever made aware of. " Thex said scratching her head trying to think of any mention he could have made.

"Alright, I will look over these records for any possible modifications or anomilies and get back to you on the results. In the meantime I want you to relax and take it easy with the family. There is nothing to be alarmed about at this point." Dr. Mah hugged Thex, "I am here if you need me day or night okay?"

" I'll try to doctor, but something tells me that there only once place with answers for this whole mess. " Thex said as she slowly broke the hug and headed for the door. She knew where to go for answers, she now just had to break the news to the rest to them.

As Doc Power, the Hera's EMH added the finishing touches to his latest fruit art masterpiece, Mont Saint Michel of France made from an array of unusual fruits, a Federation News Network stream was playing in the background in Ten Forward about a brave Romulan pilot that rescued a Starfleet crew. He and several other patrons were listening to it while they were enjoying some afternoon refreshments. Stepping back, he beamed slightly as he surveyed the parapets. "That doesn't look bad at all, does it?"

"It looks good enough to serve to our customers, at least," replied one of the barkeeps as he took a holo of the fruit art and the proud artist. "I just hope it tastes as good as it looks."

"I guarantee it'll taste twice as good," replied Doc Power with a dashing grin. "Besides, I think something like this will cheer everyone up after our recent... You know what."

Just the reminder of where the ship had been in the most recent mission sent shivers down the spine of more than just the snarky barkeep. It seemed most had at least one nightmare they preferred to forget. "Yeah, we could all use something to boost morale around here. Doctor's orders then."

The doors slid open as the ship's chief engineer and her anear quadmate stepped through the doors. The pair were dressed for Orion dancing and judging by the sweat the two had really be pushing themselves. A broad smile was on Thex face as her white other half leaned on her slightly. That had been good. Just letting themselves go and getting lost in the music. " Barkeep two Andorian ales and make sure their cold." She said with a happy tone in her voice the whole ship could use.

"Coming right up!" came the quick reply from the bar as they rushed off to prepare the order.

Dr. Mah came down to Ten Forward to check if the whispers she heard about Dr. Power's newest fruit project were true. She snuck up on Adam and peeked over his shoulder "Did you use all my weird fruits in your project?" She giggled about her interesting challenge, "Its amazing by the way." She stepped back with a huge smile proud of his amazing ability.

"Thank you," the ship's holographic medical officer replied with a grin. "I had some difficulty here and there, but everything is in there. I had to use the black sapote as a compote, for instance. Very tricky to work with. Thank you for the inspiration."

The next to arrive were Commander Paris and Lieutenant Commander Sonak- the blue and the gold, logic, and emotion, intuition, and intellect. The pair were an unlikely couple- she was headstrong, brave, sometimes rash and impulsive, but far and away an emotional woman guided by her passions. While he was Kolinahr, the pinnacle of emotionless logic, a dizzying intellect and a powerful mind whose every action was dictated by a philosophy whose foundation was laid while Mankind was still forging bronze tools. Yet in that difference was their strength- she could grasp and understand logic, and while he possessed none, through her he had learned to deal with emotional beings and to make sense of them.

Off duty, the two were quite comfortable with one another, and relaxed. They would wear casual clothes, and openly display affection for one another through actions, body language, and of course words. But in public, about the starship upon which they both served, you would never know they were a couple. Professional demeanor was the order of the day, even in a somewhat less casual setting such as this. Long ago they had set those parameters on their relationship- professional on duty, while behind closed doors they could feel free to be more intimate. It had served them well for a number of years, and as they arrived in the lounge, it might have almost seemed coincidence that the Chief Science Officer and the First Officer arrived together.

Surveying the scene, a half-smile formed on the lips of the human time-tossed temptress- something of a default expression for her. Exchanging a silent glance with Sonak, she rolled her eyes slightly, as if reacting to a conversation, then she stepped forward. "Fascinating display, Doctor. What have you named the piece?"

"Thank you, Commander. It's good to see both of you." For a moment, the EMH just smiled and stared off into space as if the question hadn't even occurred to him, which indeed it had not. "It's a stylistic recreation of Mont St Michel of France on Earth in various fruits gifted to me by the lovely Tova... So I think I'll call it Melo St Tova of the USS Hera. Please, feel free to have some. Every bit of it is perfectly edible."

The Vulcan inclined his head a fraction.

''This offering of fruit is most appreciated, Doctor. Since alcohol is poisonous to Vulcan physiology and synthehol offers no suitable replacement, as it still retains the unappealing taste of alcohol, there is usually no logic for me to come to this section of the ship. But such a situation distances me from my shimates, something which is not conducive to proper relationships, and is thus detrimental to efficiency. Today with this gathering, what you have done fills this gap for me. This effort of yours shall thus be honored as it should.''

He looked at the fruit creation from different angles and nodded.

''It is indeed reminiscent of that peculiar structure of Earth; an ancient fortified place on a steep hill surrounded by water like an island but only part of the time; a metaphor of the ebb and flow of what links us all together despite the barriers we may erect to protect our selves? Interesting... would you agree, Commander?''

"I may not know art, but I know what I like. And I like it..." Paris replied, redirecting her response to the holographic physician. "Quite the accomplishment, Doctor. Although I'll hold off on eating any of it until everyone has had the opportunity to view it in its pristine form. After all, part of the precious nature of this particular form of art is that it is designed to be temporary- a moment in time that will not be the same in a few days. I think that impermanence adds that much more value to it all, as well as to the artistic statement. Nothing lasts forever, so enjoy the fruits of your labors while you can, hm?" As admitted, Rita didn't know much about art. But that didn't mean that she couldn't appreciate it.

"Thank you both for your kind and generous words," Doc Power replied with a slight bow and smile. "It's my hope that everyone this evening is able to enjoy the... ah... fruits... of my labor, if you'll excuse the pun. Not just artistically, but culinarily as well. I just ask that everyone save the ceramic tray for our crew with more robust digestive systems. When I said everything is edible, I meant it."

The next to arrive was Ahreva Malana, the civilian biologist literally made of living stone. A soft smile graced her features, which were starting to look a little more rounded for some reason. It was as if she were consuming much more than normal and refusing to dispose of it. However, the floor sensors registered very little increase in her weight, relative to her mass. Either way, as she approached the bar and requested her usual empty plain ceramic mug, she chose to stand rather than strain one of the seats. After all, she had completely flattened the padding and warped one of the bar stools last time she had used one.

Not long after, the new mothers' Mona and Mnhei'sahe arrived, arm in arm and looking like they needed a night off from being new parents. "It looks like everyone else is looking forward to an outing as much as we are," Mona quipped with a grin, leaning in to give her bond-mate a quick kiss. They'd left the chicks hopefully sleeping with their grandmother, Jaeih, for the evening after a long day of work and watching them do their best to fly around their quarters. "At least they didn't get hurt or break anything today, right?"

Leaning over, Mnhei'sahe returned the quick kiss. As a general rule, they worked to maintain a professional air to their relationship, but Mona moreso than her Romulan wife tended to forgo that formality where public displays of affection were concerned. Of course, here in the ship's lounge, they relaxed a bit more than not.

"Today." Mnhei'sahe replied with a slight grin. "But tomorrow is another day and the cribs have lids for a reason. But at least we have a few hours to relax as Mother seems to be getting quite good at putting them down for the evening. Plus, in all reality, I'd prefer our two Romulan guests not knowing that I have children. That's... not information I want making it back to the Senate, all things considered."

"Would you like something to drink? I'm going to get a sserayl tea." Mnehei'sahe changed the subject slightly as she asked her brilliantly plumed, Miradonian wife.

"Hmmm... One of those rainbow surprise cova fruit frappe drinks if they can replicate it, otherwise I'll have the same. I'll grab a table for us near the windows." With a wink and a squeeze of her lover's hand, Mona couldn't help but smile like sunshine was pouring out of her.

Returning the smile, Mnhei'sahe made her way across the room, taking a moment to watch the FFN video playing on the large screens and smiling slightly as a clip of Ensign Fiona O'Dell ran, telling her part of the story for the galaxy to see. The story of a brave Romulan pilot that saved a Federation Starship and three Warbirds. Below the screen, watching was the pilot in question and the commanding officer of the three Warbirds, guests of the Hera.

Stepping up to the bar, the Hera's flight chief had ordered her and Mona's drinks and waited. As she did, Commander t'Rekt stepped over next to her. "Jolan tru, Lieutenant Commander."

Looking over, Dox nodded politely. "Jolan tru, Commander t'Rekt. Are you enjoying the evening?"

"As much as one can, wondering her crew has a future? But I am... hopeful that your Ensign O'Dell's plan is one that will aid our return to the hearthworlds," t'Rekt said, her arms behind her back and standing at near attention. The woman had a short-cropped head of light brown hair and was a solid few years younger than the Hera's red-headed Romulan pilot.

"By now, the story has made its way to the quadrant, I would imagine," Dox said, looking up at the slightly taller woman in the uncomfortable looking black and gray uniform. "And the senate has every reason to go along with it. It has the benefit of being true, and will make them look benevolent and wise to shower you with praise for your efforts."

"Or, at the very least, listen when it's explained that you had no knowledge of Rendal's dishonored status." Dox continued.

"That is my hope as well. Everything I have done in this mission has been to save and now protect my crews. Your Captain said that you are kin to a Senator? That you have a voice there?" t'Rekt asked plainly, maintaining her professional posture. 

Listening, Dox stiffened slightly as her two drinks came from the back. "If the Senator wishes to speak to me, I will tell her what you and Captain Garnak did for us here. I will tell her that you and yours had no knowledge that this mission wasn't authorized by the Senate."

Then Dox offered a light bow as she turned to where Mona had found a seat near the windows. "If she wishes to speak to me on the subject. You have my word. Jolan tru, Commander."

As Dox walked away from the bar, the doors slid open again, and the blue-clad Ensigns of the Research and Development department, Fiona O'Dell and Briaar Gavarus walked in like they owned the place. On the towering Tellarite's rotund hip, was the smiling Minotaur toddler, Minerva. 

"Check it, Fee! There's your bit on the screen! Look at you! You looked AWESOME!" The portly porcine said with a wide smile. "Don't your Mum look awesome, Minnie Moo?"

"AAHSOME!!!" The giddy, brown-furred babe in the little denim overalls squealed with excitement.

Dr. Tovanna Mah smiled at the little girl she met called Minnie and waved to her as she walked over to her mothers to introduce herself. She approached Fiona O'Dell and Briaar Gavarus as well as little Minnie, "Ensigns O'Dell and Gavarus, I'm Dr. Mah, I don't believe we've had the pleasure. Your daughter and I had the most wonderful game of hide and seek, she is a quite beautiful, bright and delightful child, quite sneaky too." She smiled at Minnie, "Was it okay that I caught you, Minnie?"

The miniature Miontaur was looking the ship's doctor up and down with an anticipatory expression and scrunched eyebrows before reaching to the El-Aurian physician with her trademark grabby hands, "Lolly?"

It was abundantly clear that the promise of treats was why she let herself get caught so easily in their past game.

"Alreet noow, what did we say aboot sweets, aye? Y'ken ye canna hae a lolly til ye been a brave girl fuir the Doctor, aye? She's under nae obligation ta reward ye joost because ye see her, hm? Hm? There ye go." Looking up from her somewhat abashed daughter, Fiona O'Dell looked up at the new Chief Medical Officer, who was only a full head taller than she herself. Sticking out her hand, O'Dell grinned, a mischievous affair.

"Yoo must be the Doctor Mah Miss Minnie here keeps goin' on aboot, and yuir magical lollipops. I'm Ensign Fiona O'Dell, and this here's Ensign Gavarus. We're R&D, so we get a wee bit banged up from time to time. So ye'll probably be seein us in a professional capacity sooner or later." The little redhead, whose hair was a surprisingly large and unrestrained mass of crimson curls, beamed a cautious smile at the young woman who looked barely old enough to be a doctor.

Dr. Mah laughed, "So you didn't give it your full potential little Minnie? We will have to play again at some point but, only if you give it your all got it and we will play for lollies again." She looked at Fiona, "I think your daughter is wise to my lollipop collection which she may have with her mothers' permission only." She looked pointedly at Minnie, "I will be happy to see you lovely ladies anytime you need. After 30 years of private practice, Starfleet is turning out to be quite fascinating."

Little Minnie pouted slightly on Gavarus' hip at her current lack of a lollipop before her attention was eventually pulled back to the large screens all playing a repeating clip of her redheaded mother talking with her trademark smile.

"Yeah, hopefully, we don't see you too often, Doc. But it's the nature of the beast that sometimes the crap we're experimenting with don't always work perfectly the first time, ya' know?" Gavarus replied to the smiling physician with a smile as she bounced Minnie on her hip. "Wait, thirty years?  What, did you graduate from Medical school as a baby?"

"Aye! Christ, Doc, ye look younger'n me! Thirty years ye say?" As the physician had been chatting, O'Dell had been to the replicator and back, bearing a chocolate milk for Minnie, a Guinness for herself, a bottle of Tellar's Prime for Gavarus, and a tumbler of Sangria with some fruit chunks for the doctor. As she distributed them, O'Dell glanced about furtively. "Dinna know if this is an official function or nae, boot I figure if I'm on the news, it might joost slide, aye? Handing out the drinks, she ended by handing the tumbler of sweet wine and fruit to the ship's Chief Medical Officer, having taken a shot at what they might like.

Dr. Mah laughed, "I'm only a little over 65, barely over a baby in my people's years. I have thousands upon thousands of years to live. My many greats grandmother saw my father not long before I enrolled in the Academy. She is in fact over 2000 years old and is part of the reason I joined. If El-Aluria still existed I would not be allowed to leave like this for another few hundred years despite my skills." She shrugged because to her it was a normal part of life in some ways. "At least you'll have a familiar face for a long time in sickbay or until I'm transferred. Now you know why I might be able to track down little Minnie during her hiding games, I'm not human. It could be handy if she ever gets hurt while hiding." She smiled at the ladies while taking a drink still feeling around herself to become familiar with people's energies.

Thex had been quietly listening in as her ship family talked and laughed. It brought a smile to her own face. She didn't want to tell them, but this would be the best time. "I'd like to tell you all something. I'm taking a leave of absence for a month so if you have and engineering issue you'll have to let my team know."

"This is the first I'm hearing of this, Thex," the first officer mentioned, then redirected. "So where are you going, if I may ask? Which, since you announced it publicly I assume you don't mind us knowing?"

" I'm heading to Andor to get try and get some answers. The only place that's likely to have them. " Thex repled fidgeting the drink in her hand a little. It had been a lifetime since she'd be on that world.

Listening, the Hera's Romulan flight chief ran her hand across Mona's leg, shooting her a quick smile as she put her tea down and walked over to the center of the room where Thex had just made her announcement. The blue Andorian and she got along well, but rarely socialized outside of work. And with Dox having only returned to the ship herself after almost two weeks away, whatever has going on with Thex, she was oblivious about.

"Answers... about what?" The Andorian Chief Engineer's tone was troubling and there was a tremble in her voice that Dox wasn't used to hearing. All the cues told Dox something was deeply wrong. "Thex... what's going on? Is there something you need help with?"

" About who I am and this mess that caught up with me. On why there appear to be more than one of me running around this galaxy. Enalia has gotten me a ship and crew who can get me to the only lead I have which is in the Andorian northern ice sheet." Thex replied still fidgeting with her drink.

Setting little Minnie down, as she had started to get good enough in groups to not run completely amok, Gavarus took a sip of her drink and cricked an eyebrow as the tiny tot walked over to hug on Fiona for a moment. Remembering her conversation with the chief engineer while the ship was trapped in the Undrheim, the towering Tellarite asked a question, perhaps a bit more tactlessly than was required for the tense moment. "What? Is this because you found out you and that chick on Risa are, like, clones or something?"

" Yeah, it's regarding that. My Thavan's in a comma so I only have the data he sent me to help. Means I'm going to the Andorian northern polar region. " Thex replied her fidgeting easing off slightly. Talking about her plan seemed to be helping.

Listening, Gavarus felt a little bad for blurting it out like that. But the portly porcine was immediately more preoccupied as to what Thex being off-ship would mean to her workload as she hoped it wouldn't mean a temporary reassignment back from R&D to Engineering like had just occurred during the Hera's recent emergency where extra hands were needed. Worrying about THAT, she took a massive swig of her beer.

"What's in the Northern Polar region? Or... what do you hope is there?" Dox said, in a concerned tone.

"What I'll be there for is the Ushaan ritual at High Mountain Park! Nothing like a brisk duel out in the middle of a mountain glacier!" Sarika exposited as the cybernetic woman came up alongside the others with a glass of Andorian ale in one hand. "Our ship will be here in three days and I've arranged passage through Andorian customs. That's as far north as we can normally beam in."

" Something that the Andorian government believes is worth killing over. A bunch of students on the Uzaveh expedition found something there and they've tried to cover it up. Has the heavy-duty ice driller I've replicated been loaded on the ship? " Thex asked the cybernetic woman.

"It's on my shuttle and ready to transfer to the ship that'll be taking us," Sarika replied with a nod. "They're an old group of fighters and contract salvagers I've worked with before that are used to working on frozen rocks and I trust them. They normally work with the Federation Merchant Marines but take on the odd exploratory mission now and then when their interest... and the pay... is high enough."

"While what you do with your leave time is up to you, and you certainly have plenty saved up," the old-fashioned first officer offered, "I'm curious why you're going as a private individual and not as a Starfleet officer, Thex. Andoria is a founding member of the Federation, and you say the Andorian government is killing students? This sounds like an official investigation is called for, with the full resources of Starfleet."

"But your plan... that you just sprung on us," Rita muttered under her breath, "is to take the Artan adjutant, and some roughnecks, go to the ice wastes of your home planet, alone, to investigate an investigation into your people's deity, which you say your government is covering up, which has something to do with you being a clone? Am I getting all of this? Because on my planet, this is how you set up a horror movie."

"And if someone happened to say, get injured or discovered vital DNA information it might be helpful to have a a medical team around. Just a thought," offered Dr. Mah quietly as she took another sip of her drink.

" I know my plan sounds like one of the old horror holo programs my ch'te and th'se enjoy so much, but I have my reasons. My thavan didn't send the data I got this through regular channels. He's was worried, someone would find it if he sent it that way. Maybe he's just over paranoid, but maybe someones listening into the comms beacons. " Thex said as she began to fidget with her drink again.

" And I don't want to drag you guys into this in case it does go badly. I need someone here to keep my girls and my quad safe." She added

Her eyes narrowing slightly, Dox's voice dipped slightly as she interjected. "Considering that you and a good portion of this crew underwent reconstructive surgery and risked your lives to help me escape from the Tal'Shiar on Romulus, I would think that you would know full well that none of us would hesitate in risking ourselves to help you, Thex."

"But as Rita said, we have very official resources that can be brought to bear to help you uncover the truth here, with far less risk. We put our lives on the line for the Captain's family. You all crossed into Romulan space for me and my mother. We went to Mariposa to help Fiona and her family." Dox finished, somewhat declaratively, "That's what we do. That's what Starfleet does. When there is a need, we hold out our hand and say 'what can we do to help'."

For her part, Rita Paris tried to restrain a smile of pride, because this wasn't the time nor place for it. But Dox had succinctly given voice to her own thoughts, and in that moment she was proud of the redheaded Romulan. because she'd come a long ways, and it was clear the lessons she had learned in the past year and a half of service on the USS Hera had most certainly made a difference in the formerly shy, overly self-conscious young pilot who hadn't realized what Starfleet was all about. This.... was a Starfleet officer who stood for something, and in that moment Rita's heart swelled with pride at her protege.

"She's right, Thex," Paris added in gentle tones. "If this is something you are determined to do as a private endeavor, we won't try to stop you. But you're Starfleet, and that means you're only alone if that's what you want."

Thex was silent for a second as she tried to think of the words to say. " I just don't want you guys to get hurt because of me. You guys are more family than my own family. Your part of my life as much as my quad is. " She said with a weak smile on her face.

"I can help fix injuries, doctors are for more than just lollipops. Just sat the word and you'll have help," offered Dr. Mah.

Sarika reached up and rested a hand on Thex's shoulder. "It sounds like they're volunteering to help you out. They'll be a lot more willing to help you than some scrubs on an asteroid breaker anyway, right?" With a soft smile, the cybernetic woman finished off her ale in one gulp. "The plan is still sound and I'll still go with you if you like though. I've grown fond of you 'fleeters and I want to see how you fight before I go back to the fortress for a while."

As the Trill captain of the USS Hera, Enalia Telvan entered Ten Forward, she discreetly reached behind the bar and pulled out a random glass and a mixing spoon, tapping the glass several times to produce a ringing sound throughout the room to get everyone's attention.

"If I may have your attention please? I'd rather do this in a more personal setting rather than as a ship-wide broadcast." Pausing, she looked around the room and for the first time found herself a bit intimidated. This was not only her family, but the one she chose.

Steeling herself, Enalia began. "We've been through a lot over the past few weeks. We've lost loved ones, gained friends and allies. We got stuck in what we now know is a realm of sleeping elder nightmares called Undrheim. With the invaluable aid of our new friends, we've survived. Not just as a team, but as family. Their brave actions are now known across not only the Federation, but reports are coming in that the story has spread to the Romulan and Klingon Empires, the Dominion, the Ferengi Alliance, Cardassia... Even the Breen Confederacy has publicly distributed the report to some degree. Embassies that have not been active for decades are receiving inquiries about it."

"And I suspect that while your return across the neutral zone won't be without incident, my guess is that it will be with far more pomp and circumstance than we had suspected." With a wry grin towards t'Rekt and Garnak, Enalia continued. "I've received word that the Romulan embassy is in a fluster and they're scrambling to find you a proper escort home."

The spotted woman then turned more serious and her demeanor slipped into a more regal posture. "In other news, the heir to the Artan throne is ready to take her place upon it and I will be retiring from the Artans as soon as that happens. Elysius knows my vision for the Empire and is in a far better position to lead it to where it needs to go. When that happens, Baroness Sarika... I'm sorry, but I will no longer need your services as Adjutant. Please support her as you did me."

The cybernetic woman was slightly taken aback at the declaration - she had been expecting it, but nowhere near this soon and she felt like she was scrambling for an excuse for Enalia to remain her Queen. "What? But... You'll really give it all up to that... After fighting so hard for..."

"For a better galaxy. For freedom. For everything she wanted that family to stand for." Dox said, putting an arm around her silver-haired friend, doing her best to comfort her. "It what she fought for in the Tribunal and what we all fought to help her achieve it. This is a moment to celebrate, 'Rika."

"But what we are doing here and now. Getting these people home safely. Building bridges between people that have been at odds for centuries. That's something that a Starfleet Captain can do maybe a little better than a Queen." Dox added, deciding this wasn't likely the best time to point out to the Silver Haired Baroness that she had also deferred her duties in the Artan Empire to someone else that she trusted as well. 

Turning back to Thex slightly, Dox brought Enalia's announcement back to the topic of the Chief Engineer's plight. "But that's Starfleet. That's the culture the Captain wanted to bring to the Artans. That's what makes a family out of all of our different peoples. We are all of us stronger when we have each other's back. And we have your back, Thex. No matter what."

A smile spread over Thex's face. She should have expected this. "Okay then. Anyone who wants to help is more than welcome! Just make sure you pack some very warm clothing. Even by it's normal standards, Andoria's northern pole can freeze your blood in your heart." She said finishing the old saying of Andorian ice carvers.

"We have some wonderful exploration suits, and they have adaptors for low-temperature outings," Rita Paris interjected, giving the shy Andorian girl a shoulder hug. "We'll be fine, Thex. Thanks for not shutting us out. You're one of us... Starfleet takes care of its own."

"Staarfleet also takes care of its friends- leastways as best we can," Fiona O'Dell said quietly as she and her little family stepped in behind Garnak.

As the discussion with the higher ranking officers continued, Gavarus and O'Dell slowly and quietly wandered away with little Minnie and the uncomfortable looking Romulan pilot a bit closer to the bar.

Looking back at the assemblage of the Hera's senior staff members for a moment, Garnak seemed slightly relieved to be with the friend he had made out in space. "I will admit... until I had met with more of your crew members and the others on the Persephone, I... had wondered if all human's matched your stature, Fiona."

Then he looked up at the towering Tellarite who was taking a swig of her beer and he raised an eyebrow, "But to see so many different kinds of people on one ship is... so unusual to me. But please, forgive my ill manners and my ignorance. I am still learning."

"This is... the family you spoke of, Fiona? Briaar... Gavarus. And little Minerva?" He asked O'Dell with a slightly nervous smile that still seemed slightly alien on his severe face.

"Aye," the redheaded firecracker said softly, the fondness in her voice for the subjects just as evident as when she had spoken of them in space, the day before. "This here, of course, is Miss Minerva Moo Mary Margret Mona O'Dell. Say hello to Captain Garnak, sweety. He helped your mum when she was all alone oot in space, and he kept her from freakin oot and goin off the deep end when ye and yuir mum... weren't there."

It was unusual for O'Dell to be subtle, but she was learning to self-edit for the wee one. Minnie, for her part, stepped over and hugged the Romulan drone who had somehow been thrust onto a greater stage, even as an image of him displayed onscreen with the FNN story.

"Thank yeeeee!" Minnie squeezed a bit, and the alien pilot was surprised by the strength of the child, even as the largest of the trio peeled the horned and furry child who bore no resemblance to her elfin mother whatsoever, save for perhaps her accent.

"A'course, this here's Briaar Gavarus, me partner. I toldye she was a big girl, aye?" O'Dell grinned as she nudged Gavarus with her shoulder, planting it into the tall Tellarite's hip.

Looking up, Garnak's eyes went a bit wide and it was clear, along with his questionable knowledge of humanity, that the Romulan pilot had never seen a Tellarite before. To say nothing of a toddler Minotaur. "Jolan'tru, Miss Gavarus. I am in Fiona's debt for her efforts toward my aid and the aid of my people. As such, as her partner, that debt extends to you and to your child."

The overly serious declaration had Gavarus raising a brow and taking the last swig of her beer. Noticing that the bottle was empty, the slightly uncomfortable engineer muttered slightly. "Uh, yeah. Whatever. You helped her while she was out there too, and the both'a you is why we're all even here to talk about it, so... we're even."

"Hey, another beer, here." Gavarus said as she held her empty bottle up to the bartender. "Oh, hey. Garnak. What are you drinkin'? You like that blue stuff?"

"Yes, I would enjoy a glass of Kali-fal if available, please." Garnak replied, a bit surprised at the offer.

"And a Romulan Ale for our buddy!" Gavarus called back.

"Sooo. I dinna ken if our wee scheme will save ye and the Commander over there and the crews and alla that. But twas the best plan we had, so we gave it a shot. When ye get home ye joost might be a bonafide Romulan hero, Captain Garnak." Fiona grinned at Garnaks sideye at that, as it still worried him when people called him that.

"I hope we get to meet again someday. I'd like to meet your wee one and yuir partner, aye?" With that, the drinks arrived, and Fiona offered the pale blue ale to the Romulan sublight hauler pilot who had somehow been swept up in events since the voice of a leprechaun had come through his speakers, and talked him out of self-destructing. he had helped save the fleet, thousands of lives, and the woman had taken it upon herself to paint him as the hero of the day, all in an effort to save his life.

As he sipped the best kali-fal he had tasted in his entire life, Garnak had to admit. The Federation didn't seem so bad, at least to him.

It was a dangerous thought, he realized. But it was his and he would remember his experience here, with these strange people who accepted him and showed him that the galaxy was truly bigger than the view he had been shown from his home. But it was a home he knew that his new friend would likely never be able to visit.

"I would like that as well, Fiona." He said, taking another sip, knowing that it would be all but impossible to ever see his friend again, but glad for this moment. "I would like to see you all again."

Once again resting on Gavarus' prodigious hip, the fuzzy, horned child took a massive swig of her sippy cup of chocolate milk and let out a rather deep burp for such a small child. "BRRRAAAAAPPPP!!!"

Half the room paused and turned to look at the source of the minor disturbance for a moment as the brown-furred bovine babe giggled excitedly in response, proud that her action had gotten her so much attention. 

"I think that's Minnie here agreeing with you, Garnak." The portly porcine said, blushing slightly.

"I've no illusions about what might be waitin' for ye when ye get home, Garnak," Fiona admitted quietly, then looked up, large emerald eyes bright and wide with hope. "But I made good on me promise to ye, and we can hope, aye? Besides, if we make it a plan, then maybe the universe listens to such things, too? So someday, I hope we meet again... your family and mine. So we can break some bread together, have some drinks and some laughs, and catch up on our lives... like distant friends do, y'ken?"

"So for now, we'll raise a glass..." O'Dell scampered up onto a stool, then nimbly climbed up to stand on the bar, and raised her pint of bitters.

"OI! I propose a toast!" the squeaky-voiced O'Dell's voice didn't carry extremely well. But this was a small gathering, and it was easier to catch people's attention from up on the bar. "Here's to our new friends... we came together in a crisis, and we helped each other out of a jam. We trusted one another... and in that trust, we all found salvation, and we kin raise this glass in celebration. So here's to friendship, and the people it can save- you and me. Slainte!"

A resounding cheer went through the crowd as everyone followed suit, followed by the bar finally opening up the dining part of the fruit castle art that Doc Power had constructed for the occasion. Without hesitation, Enalia rested a hand on the midget Mariposian's shoulder.

"Fiona, without a doubt, you're going to make a great starship captain."

"Cap'n!" O'Dell replied, a stricken expression on her face. "I thought ye liked me, why would ye say sooch a terrible thing?!?"

The last year had been a roller coaster for Lieutenant Commander Mnhei’sahe Dox of the U.S.S. Hera.

What began with a simple night off-ship with her then newly pregnant wife and mother for dinner kicked off a string of events that could best be described as life-altering for the young Romulan Starfleet officer. A kidnapping lead to family revelations and journeys to forgotten colony worlds and finally, to her wife’s home planet to give birth to their triplets.

What each different twist in her life caused, for the often-damaged young officer was more and more time away from her home on the Hera. And more and more time away from her responsibilities at the ship’s Chief Flight Control Officer. A job that was far more elaborate than just flying the ship. Dox was in charge of the entire department, which meant monitoring and training every pilot on the Hera. It meant being in charge of who was on bridge duty and who was manning the ships multiple flight decks. It meant making sure that the ships support craft were all in pristine condition and that their pilots were the best they could be.

The Hera operated like a world onto itself, where each department head had a high degree of autonomy to make decisions and manage itself. And while every decision Dox made as the chief went back up the chain of command to be reviewed by Commander Rita Paris, they were still her decisions to make. And the point of fact was that she hadn’t been around much of late to make those decisions.

Now, she was back on the ship again after traveling to Miradon with Mona Gonadie to be there for the birth of their children, Hlai’vana, Amihan, and Tala, and she was feeling the pressure of getting caught up on everything that had happened in her absence. And this time, it was a LOT.

The Flight Control office was a particularly expansive one in comparison to other department head offices, with a massive window overlooking the bustling main flight deck. To the right of the double doors to the office, Dox had a decent sized desk with it’s back the right corridor wall. On her desk was two small starship models, both gifts from Rita Paris. One, a model of the Refit her old Constitution Class ship, the “Exeter”. And the other, a t’Liss class Romulan Bird of Prey called “The Raptor’s Wing.” In the middle of the desk, a haphazard stack of PaDD’s she was reviewing and on the left of the desk, her small work computer.

Now, though, there were 2-D photographs on the desk as well, next to the computer. She preferred them to holos, and wanted to keep the picture close to her. It was two, small framed images. One of her and Mona on Miradon with their newborn girls in their arms, with their respective parents behind them. The other, simply a photo of Mona herself taken when they visited the orphanage she grew up in on Miradon. Taking pictures of ANY kind was a highly monitored practice on Mona’s homeworld due to the ever-present problem of hunters from races that tried to invade the planet because of the horrific practice some races had of eating Miradonians. But these images had been approved, and Dox cherished them.

And she wanted them close, to remind herself every day, that no matter how much she tended to prioritize her work responsibilities, that THEY were her primary responsibilities.

On her screen, however, was a different kind of responsibility.

It was the reports regarding the Hera’s recent mission to confront the Romulan renegade, Riov Dalia Rendal, that had put the ship in deadly danger and left them temporarily stranded in a void known as the Undrheim. The realm where gods went to die… or to hide what they didn’t want found. A void that Rendal was only able to find because of data she had pulled from Dox’s own mind during her kidnapping. So, on top of that level of personal guilt, she had to now deal with her failure to properly prepare her new assistant chief, Ensign Wieaex.

For weeks, Dox had been training the Edosian pilot to fill the vacancy left when Mona had been promoted to the head of the new R&D Department, and it had seemed like Wieaex would be a good fit for the role. But when the chips were down, she had choked causing Ensign Jessica MacNielle to step in.

Looking over the record of the event, potential disaster was averted thanks to MacNielle’s quick thinking and cool head. She took over without exacerbating Wieaex’s panic attack, and controlled the situation. Weeks ago, when considering who would be the better assistant chief, MacNielle seemed disinterested in the role, in spite of having taken it on while Dox was kidnapped when Mona had been removed from active duty for a month. Jessica had done the job fairly well, all things considered, but also made sloppy mistakes in protocol and paperwork. And Dox viewed these as impediments in her performance, whereas it looked as if Wieaex just wanted the job more. Now, Dox had to reconsider her own choices here.

Had MacNielle not been there, lives might have been lost. That was on Dox, as far as the anxious Romulan was concerned. Wieaex had already submitted a letter saying that she no longer wanted the position, and Dox would have to deal with that on its own and would be sitting down with the Edosian pilot as well, soon enough. But for now, she needed to talk to Jessica MacNielle, because it was becoming clear to the young Romulan chief, that she had overlooked some things and needed to course correct.

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

“You wanted to see me, Lieutenant Commander?” Jessica MacNielle said, standing nervously in the doorway to the Chief Flight Control office. She was standing, not quite at attention so much as what was technically called ‘parade rest’, which was common in Starfleet. But Dox, an expert in all things anxiety-based, could read all the signs off of the crimson-clad Ensign.

Standing a few inches taller than Dox, MacNielle was lean and kind of lanky with shoulder-length, straight brown hair and a plain face. Once upon a time, she was referred to by some of the other pilots in the department as a ‘brown-noser’. Someone who had a habit of watching Dox and occasionally even mimicking her chief. But that had stopped over the last year and MacNielle seemed to have just… stop trying.

Looking back, it was obvious to Dox, and she was ashamed at herself for missing the problem under her own nose. So here, she would try and see if she could make up for the mistake.

From her desk, Dox made a concerted effort to keep her face open and friendly as she replied. “Yes. Please, have a seat Ensign. I would like to talk.”

Pursing her thin lips, the average looking human woman came in and slowly sat down in the chair across from Dox’s desk as the Romulan chief did her best to look friendly and inviting, which was not exactly a natural expression for her. In truth, as a chief, Dox had a bad habit of defaulting to acting like her own mother, which created an extremely intimidating persona that had her the subject of more than a few unflattering nicknames from the pilots in the department.

In short, she came across very Romulan, and she didn’t like that at all.

“So, the first thing I’d like to say that, upon review, your performance during this latest mission was exemplary. I have put in a request for official commendation with Commander Paris.” Dox said, the smile feeling a little forced, even though the words were sincere.

“Thank you, Ma’am.” MacNielle said, looking sheepish and a little tired, the more Dox looked.

There was a moment of awkward silence for a moment as Dox struggled for a moment. It was easy enough to point out a problem, but that much harder to figure out what the problem was, and she suddenly had a much better understanding of how far she was from being able to be a good leader like Rita or Enalia. “The thanks are mine, Ms. MacNielle. In my absence, your quick thinking and decisive actions saved lives.”

“Ma’am… Ensign Wieaex did her job well. I only helped her, really.” MacNielle said, speaking up a bit trying to leap in front of what she was predicting was to be a meeting about the current Assistant Chief of the department.

“We aren’t here to talk about Ensign Wieaex.” Dox said, instinctively stiffening slightly. “We’re here to talk about you. About… why you weren’t in that position at the onset of that mission.”

“Ma’am?” MacNielle said, slightly confused. “You… I don’t understand.”

Standing up from her desk, Dox let out the slightest of sighs. She seemed to prefer pacing when she was working through a problem and decided to try and relax a bit as she stepped around the desk and walked a little closer to MacNielle, who stiffened a little bit. For most of her time as the head of the department, her leadership style was adopted from her stern, authoritarian mother and Dox was trying to be better about that.

Noticing how she had stiffened, Dox ground her jaw ever so slightly and nervously ran her finger over the tip of her ear. An old nervous twitch that came back up every now and again. “Miss MacNielle. Not too long ago, you were very much on your way to that position of Assistant Chief. You were energetic, ambitious and you put yourself forward whenever a duty needed to be handled. Then, you just… stopped.”

“You fell to the background. You lost that energy and, as such, when it came time to look at my options for a replacement for Lieutenant Gonadie, I looked at Ensign Wieaex, who was pushing for the position harder. Even in the tests between the two of you, she just seemed to want it more.” Dox said, as she stopped pacing and decided to take a chance.

She sat down in the empty chair next to MacNielle. “What did I miss? What happened?”

Turning to look at MacNielle, not as a commander but as a peer, Dox raised an eyebrow and smiled a bit more naturally. For a moment, there was only silence as MacNielle looked down, twiddling her thumbs. The moment stretched even longer, before the anxious Ensign replied. “Permission to speak freely, Ma’am.”

Without hesitation, Dox spoke up to the room. “Computer. Please pause any and all recording. Privacy mode. Authorization Dox, M. Lieutenant Commander. Access code 795-X9E.”

With a chirrup, the computer replied with a friendly sounding, =^=Privacy mode enabled, Lieutenant Commander.=^=

“Permission granted, Miss MacNielle. Say what you need to.” Dox said, folding her hands in her own lap, bracing herself.

“Well… you know what happened when you were away. Where the ship was… and all about… the nightmares?” MacNielle said, mentioning the horrible effects those still on the Hera withstood while the ship spent days trapped in Undrheim.

“I do, yes.” Dox said, nodding.

“I… I had a nightmare. I had a nightmare, and… and…” With a frog in her throat, MacNielle paused, closing her eyes. As she did, Dox got up and walked back around to sit in her desk chair, already feeling like a failure as she realized what she suspected MacNielle was avoiding saying.

So instead, Dox volunteered her thought, her own voice sad and distant now. “I was in there, wasn’t I?”

“A… aye. Yes. It… it was all those months ago. And I was in the Second Flight Deck… with Raphael.” MacNielle said, and suddenly the realization of where this was going exploded in Dox’s mind. What she had overlooked. “I was there in the room with him, working his overnight shift. And… in the dream… it was much bigger. Much bigger than it really was. The assassin droid that… that killed him.”

There were tears beginning to well up in MacNielle’s eyes as Dox produced a box of tissues from her desk drawer and walked them back around, returning to the other seat. MacNielle took the box and continued, wiping her eyes with the tissue. “It was… terrifying. It was so big, and it came out of the darkness and it just… snatched him up and… and I tried to hold on to him, but he was just screaming my name over and over, and I couldn’t hold on. It just… pulled him away into the darkness. And then… from the darkness, his body fell back to the deck and he was dead, and… and you came out. Walked out from where the monster had… had been.”

While she talked, MacNielle couldn’t bring herself to look up at Dox. “And… and you said what you said to me when… when you came to me that night. To… to tell me he was gone. You said, 'I am very sorry, Ensign MacNielle. But while on duty, Ensign Paulson had been killed." But in the nightmare… you… you were so… so cold. And then it became different from what happened that night. You said… you said…”

Clenching her jaw for a moment, Dox reached over and put her hand on MacNielle’s shoulder, not quite knowing how to help. But she was trying. “Miss… Jessica. It’s okay. Just say whatever you need to. It’s okay.”

At which, the mousey Ensign snapped her head over to Dox, with angry tears in her eyes. “You… you said that it was better this way! That Raphael deserved it! But he DIDN’T!! He DIDN’T deserve to DIE!!!”

As she screamed, Dox did everything she could to remain as passive as possible, just taking it all in as she finally understood where she had failed. It had been just under a year since the incident in which a tiny Scorpion-Model Assassin droid had infiltrated the Hera, trying to kill her, and instead killing Ensign Raphael Paulson as nothing more that a means to draw it’s true target closer. Dox herself had barely survived the attack, and chose to be the one to tell MacNielle what had happened.

The two ensigns got along like oil and water and constantly bickered, but that hadn’t stopped them from beginning a relationship. A relationship that was still very new when the then-Lieutenant Dox came to Jessica to let her know that Paulson had been killed on duty.

Killed by a mechanical monster meant for Dox.

At the time, MacNielle was noticeably distraught. She took a week of leave time to recover, but seemed to Dox to otherwise be alright after a while. And the young Romulan had been so caught up in the Captain’s Tribunal shortly after the attack… the reason FOR the attack… that she allowed herself to believe that MacNielle was fine. But looking back, it was clear that the young, human pilot had been spiraling into a sadness that the emotionally distant Romulan chose to not see.

Slowly, Dox pulled her own hand back and bit her upper lip as she absorbed what MacNielle was saying as the young Ensign curled over in her seat, sobbing uncontrollably now. She still not only missed Paulson terribly, but she blamed the Romulan chief for his death. And on some level, Dox agreed with her.

“You’re right. He didn’t deserve what happened to him. Nobody deserved that, and I can’t tell you how sorry I am for what happened. Over and over again, I wish I would have been there instead of him.” Dox said, skipping over the detail that Paulson had been assigned the overnight guard duty due to his poor behavior on duty earlier that day, knowing that such a detail would only make things worse. “I wish I could take it back, but I can’t. And I wish I had known how to help you afterwards better than I had done. I should have seen how much you were hurting.”

Then, Dox paused. She didn’t know what to do as a commanding officer in such an instance. And she didn’t know what to do as an acquaintence that wasn’t quite a friend. She glanced over at the miniature model of the Starship Exeter, wondering just what Rita would do in an instance like this and let out a sigh.

And as she looked at that recreation of a Constitution-Class Refit from over a century ago based on the ship Rita Paris served on… the same model as the ship Charybdis MacGreggor one Captained… and her head sunk slightly as MacNielle’s sobs began to slow. She struggled to think of the clever words Rita might have. Or the sage advice Char might give her. Something noble and inspiring. Something worthy of the pips on her uniform. Instead, she simply opened up her heart and spoke.

“Fvadt…” She swore under her breath in her native tongue. “I saw. I saw how much you were hurting, but I just… didn’t know what to do. I didn’t know how to make it right because I couldn’t. So… I just tried to pretend everything was okay. I’m sorry, Jessica. Not just for failing Raphael, but for failing you. I should have been better. I should have known that perfect thing to say or do to help you when you needed it the most.”

Looking up, MacNielle wiped her nose with a tissue and tilted her head slightly. In the year and a half that Dox had been her chief, she had never seen the woman like this. She had never seen the Romulan woman seem so human, as Dox continued, looking at the tiny Starship.

“I always try to tell myself to… just do what SHE would do. But I’m not Commander Paris. More often than not, I’m so frightened of failing that I default to just… acting like my MOTHER, Al'thindor forgive me.” Dox said, pursing her lips and wringing her hands together. “I should have figured something out. I should have focused on you. Seen that you were in pain and addressed it. For that, and for what happened to Raphael, I can only ask your forgiveness.”

Turning her own head, Dox’s eyes were dry but her cheeks were flush green as she met MacNielle’s eyes. She had learned to control her tears somewhat during her month-long captivity on a Romulan Warbird to some degree, though it was difficult. In this case, it was taking a massive effort. “But now… we both have choices to make. I need to choose to be better. To be the department chief you need me to be. But you need to decide what you want to do. And whatever that choice, I will support it without prejudice, because that’s my job: to support you.”

Standing up, Dox offered a hand to the young Ensign. “I still need to talk to Ensign Wieaex and see how she’s doing. I still need to make sure all of you are doing as okay as is possible. But for now, I would like you to begin sharing the responsibilities of the Assistant Chief’s position with her. You each have very specific strengths that you bring to the table, and if there’s one thing I’ve learned in my own time on this ship, is that we are stronger together than we are separately. And that’s both on duty and off.”

“If you choose to move on and would like to be transfered off the Hera, I will facilitate that for you as well. But…” Dox said, as MacNielle looked up at her. “I would like the opportunity to… make up for my own failings. And to help you… if I can.”

Slowly, MacNielle wiped her nose off again and tucked the tissue in her pocket before taking Dox’s hand and pulling herself up. “I’m sorry, Lieutenant Commander. I know up here that it wasn’t your fault. I really do.” She said pointing to her head.

“But in here… there was still a part that… I guess… found it easier to just blame you. Untill…” MacNielle paused slightly, her hand on her chest.

“Until?” Dox repeated, inquisitively.

“Until I was on the flight deck, and I had to help Ensign Wieaex out, bringing the support craft in. And with everything that was happening, in the moment, I was just doing what I needed to. But when it was all over, and I had a moment to think about everything, I… I went into the break area and almost cried and I couldn’t figure out why.”

There was a genuinely puzzled expression on the young woman’s face as she looked slightly down at her supervisor. But the slightest of smiles cracked Dox’s Romulan facade as she nodded. “Because when you had that moment to think, you realized that had you made the slightest of mistakes or made a wrong decision, crewmembers could have died. Died under your orders?”

“Y… Yeah. Yeah, it was like a kick in the gut and… and I realized that’s what it must feel like everytime you… you… make orders. Decide who pilots the support craft.” MacNielle said, half asking.

“Essentially, yes. When Raphael died, I learned that even something as simple as crew rotation could have impossible to foresee consequences. That is magnified when those decisions get larger. But, think about this, Ensign.” Dox said, looking up now with a bit more of the confidence of a commanding officer in her eyes, tempered with genuine concern.

“Had you not been on that Flight Deck, whatever would have happened would now be weighing upon Ensign Wieaex. Because of your clear head, you didn’t just save lives, you maybe helped save someone’s soul. Do not discount that. THAT is a big part of the promise of Starfleet. Of what the Hera stands for. That we are here for each other.” A smile came back on Dox’s face. “And as long as I’m in that chair, I promise to you that I will do everything I can to be the chief you need, and even the friend you need when you need it.”

“T… Thank you, Chief. I do appreciate it.” MacNielle replied, her eyes drying and her body language loosening slightly.

“As do I, Ensign. Thank you. Now… take a break. Go clean yourself up, and report back for helm duty at Oh Six Hundred hours. Tomorrow, we can start to discuss the next step. Dismissed.” Dox replied, snapping back to a more professional posture as MacNielle did the same. Then, as MacNielle turned to leave, she paused at the desk, looking at the pictures.

“Um, Chief… before I go… is this them?” She asked, with an awkward smile, slightly biting her bottom lip.

Smiling back, the closest thing to beaming that MacNielle had ever seen on Dox’s face, the Romulan chief picked up the picture. “This is them. This is Vana. Ami and Tala. And yes, Ensign Gonadie will be bringing them in for a visit before too long. And I’ll make sure you’re here to meet them.”

“EEE! They’re so beautiful, MacNielle squealed as she bit her lip again, a broad smile on her face. “Thank you, Chief. I can’t wait!”

“Indeed, Miss MacNielle. Thank you.” Dox said as MacNielle left the office, leaving her alone again. She would still need to talk to Ensign Wieaex and see what she could do the help in her case, but for now, it was just her and her thoughts as she stepped over to look out onto the Flight Deck which was under her aegis, and she smiled.

Having been in the Hera's lounge for most of a day now, Sarika had been tossing back shot after shot in an effort to get drunk to no avail. Her cybernetics were on high alert due to her mental state and processing the alcohol almost as fast as she took it in, leaving her with the barest hint of a buzz on her lips and that was it.

After what felt like an eternity in what the 'fleeters were calling Undrheim, she really needed a drink to take hold, especially after the nightmares. The fact that they weren't only frustrated her more and she wanted to smash up the bar. However, as a Baroness and a guest aboard a 'fleeter ship, she had to set a good example at least in that regard. After all, she wasn't just some nobody in the Artan fleets. She was Enalia's adjutant now. Plus she had her own fleet and responsibilities to consider.

Turning to look out the massive bay windows, she was just glad that there were stars back outside like there should be. Starships should have stars outside the windows. It's in the name. Turning back to her drink, she found it was still empty and waved her glass at the barkeep who just shook his head. It seemed she'd been cut off for one reason or another.

With a sigh, she slid her glass aside and called out. "How about something at least wet then? Bolian melon soda? Maybe some Deneb nachos?" That got her a nod. With another sigh, she settled in and waited for her order, the events and nightmares of the past few days rolling through her head once more.

Heading to the ship's lounge, striding down the corridors of Deck Ten, Lieutenant Commander Mnhei'sahe Dox had overheard Ensigns Fiona O'Dell and Briaar Gavarus mention that there was "Some silver-haired Pirate chick" in Ten-Forward drinking enough to "make them look bad." And while the Romulan Flight Chief had more than enough on her plate to keep her busy, she had a tendency to over-worry and take every responsibility she could onto herself.

Particularly where Sarika was concerned.

After all, both women were also Baronesses in the Artan fleet. And while as a Baroness, Sarkia outranked Mnhei'sahe, on a Starship Dox had the greater responsibilities and rank. Plus, as a woman who had her own problems with drinking too much, she knew that it was likely a sign of another issue. And Sarika was a headstrong woman who rarely came to others to help with her problems. Especially the emotional ones.

Something else Mnhei'sahe could easily relate to.

Walking into Ten-Forward, she saw Sarika looking bleak at the bar as the bartender delivered a soda and nachos. Tucking the PaDD she kept on her at almost all time, an affectation she picked up doing her level best to Emulate Commander Rita Paris, into her read pocket, Mnhei'sahe took a breath and walked over and sat next to her comrade in arms and friend. "Hello, Sarika. Mind if I join you?"

"Ah, someone with some sense. Please tell this fine purveyor of beverages here that I can't get drunk and that anything I drink I'll replace so he can at least serve me synthehol." The barkeep didn't even glance back at Sarika so she just waved him off and slid the blue and green nachos between her and Dox. "I mean, yeah, I could use the distraction. What's up?"

Since Sarika waved off the bartender, it saved Dox from the awkward moment of having to back the bartender's decision. Instead, she picked up an offered nacho and took a bite, which was a little bland for her tastes but good enough. "That was to be my question. For me, I just finished two performance reviews, reset the Flight Deck duty schedule, have 6 support craft under repair and refurbishment, stopped in to check on my family, and had some time before I have to check back into duty and thought I'd check-in on you."

"I've read all the reports about what happened while I was off-ship, and I've... heard a bit about the Undrheim. Considering I normally deal with rather... intense nightmares, I can't say that I'm not just a little glad that I wasn't on-ship during that." Mnhei'sahe said with a raised eyebrow. "So, I do know how troubling and disorienting a serious nightmare can be. And that sometimes, you just need to vent a bit."

"Which we can do here or go to holodeck 2... which I have on hold... or the gym, if you really need a distraction. Your call." Finishing her statement, Mnhei'sahe nodded and held her hands out a bit in a 'ta-da' fashion with a smile she hoped was disarming.

"Well, working holodecks are a pretty rare luxury in my fleet... I don't tend to get the more modern ships since I prioritize scientific and cargo capabilities..." Sarika considered the point as she munched on several of the nachos, making a face as she too found them to be bland and flavorless compared to what she was used to. Washing them down with her melon soda, she nodded.

"Yeah, I'll have to give these people a proper pattern for Deneb nachos later, but for now let's check out this holo... you said deck? Not suite? I need to get a ship half this size somehow..."

"Yes, holoDECKS. We have some rather large facilities as the holodecks are used for both recreation AND special training scenarios. As such, we often need to accommodate full-sized landing parties for training maneuvers and the like. But for now, Holodeck 2 is reserved for us." Mnhei'sahe said with a light smile. 

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

On Deck X, Mnhei'sahe walked Sarika down the broad corridors where the few crewmembers that passed paid neither of them any undue attention. After all, silver-haired pirates were no out of the norm for the Hera. At the larger, double-doored entry, the red-headed Romulan stopped at the control panel. "Here we are. The computer has a massive catalog of scenarios to pick from and can also be fairly inventive with even a minor description to work off of."

Calling up her own personal menu, Mnhei'sahe stepped aside to let Sarika get to the display. "So, since you're needing a distraction, I figure it should be... what's the expression... dealer's choice. I use the room largely to either train with the Captain, jog with the Commander, or do flight maneuvers on different starship classes."

The menu was broken up into sub-categories that were easy to work through. Sword Training, Morning Jogs, Flight Deck Sims, EVA suit training, Calisthenics, Sparring, and a more cryptically named 'Private' file. Most of Mnhei'sahe's saved programs were clearly focused on one form of training or another.

"Elements... The door is almost as big as the holosuite on my flagship and I haven't been able to get any time in it in over a year..." The silver-haired cyber-pirate marveled at the sheer size of the room they were now in, wondering just how big these things even got. Surely this was the largest mobile one Starfleet had. Then again, as soon as she had that thought, she knew that they had bigger since this was far from the biggest ship in their fleets.

"Ah... Something shooty? I could go with something shooty," Sarika decided on, not even sure what was or wasn't possible.

Walking in behind Sarika, Mnhei'sahe nodded solemly as the doors wooshed shut behind them. "That is easily arranged."

Looking up, the stout, thickly built young Romulan woman spoke to the room. "Computer. Please call up program... Private files. Dox tactical combat sim... Warbird escape scenario 3. With a floating menu for range weapons, please."

As she spoke, the computer replied with a friendly chirrup, the room shimmered for a moment and suddenly, the two women appeared to be in the center of a darkly lit corridor of a D'deridex class Romulan Warbird. To the left of Sarika, a floating pulldown menu glowed white with a visual listing of various firearms. Everything from phasers to disruptors to old Earth muskets and crossbows appeared to be available to choose from.

Sarika muttered to herself under her breath at the selection as she scrolled through the choices, pausing eventually as she stared at the holo-screen a moment. Did she dare? I mean, it was literally in her nightmare... Gulping audibly, she hit the selection and the Orion Mining Consortium CR-221 Mining Laze System shimmered into existence in front of her, two-handed Gatling laser, backpack, and all.

"The last time I used one of these, I had my own arms..." the cybernetic woman muttered as she ran her black durasteel fingers over the red metal pack unit.

The observant Lieutenant Commander watched the selection play out silently, picking up on all the cues from Sarika. Then, as soon as Sarika was done, she stepped over and scrolled to a modern Romulan hand disruptor and called it up. As she did, the menu vanished and the dark, greenish-gray weapon materialized in her hand.

As Mnhei'sahe adjusted the settings and the thin strip on the side began to glow green, she spoke softly to her friend. "And the last time I was here, I was a prisoner for a month. Almost broken on more than a few levels. I set this up to teach myself how to fight my way through one of these because I have... very little doubt that I'll eventually have to. More than a few of my nightmares happen in a place like this."

"The objective is to either get to the bridge or one of the three shuttle bays. They are all about 32 decks away in multiple directions. The turbolifts are all guarded. The crew complement is 1,500 Rihannsu and they are all armed. And in this scenario, they are aware we are trying to get off the ship." Dox looked down at the weapon again and nodded. "What do you say? Work through some old ghosts together?"

"If that's how 'fleeters do therapy, I can think of worse ways," Sarika replied as she tossed the pack unit on and plugged it into the minigun mining laze canon. "This thing is probably not the best choice, but since it's made for cutting magnesite apart, I'm sure it'll melt through the enemies." With a quick flick of the trigger, the six barrels all lit up and cut a glowing swath of destruction through one of the warbird's walls. "Yeah, this will do. I'll handle the groups, you get the singles."

"Sounds like a plan to me." Mnhei'sahe said, raising her disruptor, picked because it's what she would have access to in a scenario like this. "Computer... begin program. Level three of five."

With a Chirrup, the corridor suddenly shuddered slightly and seemed to come alive. Small lights began to flicker or blink on door entry pads. The hum of a Romulan Singularity Drive could be both heard and felt through the simulated deck plates, and in the distance, boots could be heard on the move. And with a silent nod, both women began to move. 

"Bridge or Flight Deck?" Dox said, as she put her back up to the corridor bulkhead behind her.l

"Normally I'd say the cargo bay, but let's go flight deck," the silver-haired woman replied, hefting her mining minigun at a group of centurions that rounded a corridor and opening fire on them, easily slicing through all but one of them. "Yeah! Get some, bitches!"

"So when I lost my arms when I was a slave, Enalia bought me and helped me get going again," Sarika offered as she spat out another burst, melting through the corridor wall and taking off the head of the Romulan she had missed even as they fired back wildly. "When you were a prisoner... Do you ever think about what your life might have been like if she hadn't come for you?"

Walking along, the passed over the simulated bodies of the first wave and came to a junction in the corridor. Without looking at anything, Dox listened around the corner and lead them to the right. "This way." It was clear that she had memorized the layout of the ship and could likely find her way through its corridors blindfolded. As the walked, a cluster of three Romulan Centurions rounded the corner coming up behind them, and Dox swung her arm over Sarika and, her Disruptor set for short bursts rather than continuous beams, squeezed three times, and in quick succession, all three dropped.

"Every single day." Dox said in a flat, almost creepy voice.

"My wife had just learned she was pregnant. Triplets. I had just learned I was going to be a parent when I was taken. At first, they offered the open hand. The proverbial carrot. My Grandmother is a senator. A powerful one, and in her mind, they were rescuing me. But she also made it clear that I had no choice but to accept what she was offering. Be her heir. Learn the ways of the Senate. Be a LOYAL Rihannsu and my mother would live. I would have what I had always been denied. My family. My homeworld. She offered me everything I had grown up wanting, and all I had to do was give up everything I had become. Give up Mona. Give up my CHILDREN."

They began walking faster and as they did, Sarika noticed that the program was throwing up disruptions that meant that even with her artificial eyes, she couldn't map out around corners or see-through surfaces. It was a pure line of sight exercise, which made it easier to get ambushed, which happened when a small group of three rushed them from an access panel along the wall. The first rammed Dox with a tackle, sending her Disruptor out of her hand. But as they fell to back against the opposite bulkhead, Dox jabbed the Centurion hard under the ribs and twisted, causing the figure to seize up and spit out a stream of simulated green blood onto the Romulan woman's shoulder before collapsing in front of her.

Even taken by surprise, Sarika was able to backpedal enough to get the barrel of her weapon aimed back at one of the remaining two Centurions and bring it around into the other one, cutting them both in half at the crotch. Thankfully, as smart as the simulation was, it left the screams and the smell of burnt flesh out of it and for that, Sarika was thankful.

"I feigned acceptance. Tried to play along, but I wasn't good enough to play that game. Not on her level. I was losing myself. Going along willingly. I was giving up. And when I was made to see that... I resisted. From there, it went from carrot to stick. And every night I struggle with both. Where I would be today if I had relented. Or where I would be if I had been broken. Likely wearing one of those uniforms." Dox said, looking down at the felled Centurions seeming to be unnaturally calm. "Or worse. After all, slavery is still practiced on ch'Rihan as well, and Rendal owns her fair share. She owned her own SubCommander."

"I've heard stories from some of the Rihannsu in the other fleets. Those that have joined us don't paint a pretty picture of what it's like over there." As another trio of guards came out of seemingly nowhere, Sarika lazed a swath through them and straight through the turbolift they were guarding, destroying the doors and the controls inside. "Oops..."

"The Orions I grew up with were... decent... As long as you were a useful or knowledgeable slave. My mom was an astrophysicist so she was able to teach me a fair bit and by the time I was eight I was able to work most of the mine's scanners better than the owners." As she looked over the torched turbolift, the silver-tressed pirate just shook her head. "Then when I was in my mid-teens, some idiot transport operator dumped a load of molten magnesite on top of my station. Last thing I saw as my arms were molten off and my eyes exploded from the steam was the red of transporter sparkles."

"Fucking hate transporters..." Sarika muttered as she pulled the trigger on her mining laser and didn't let it go until the latest group of Centurions, this time in heavy armor, were no more than bite-sized chunks. "If it weren't for Enalia several months later, I'd have died long ago from starvation. They liked me but not enough to get me new arms, eyes... Let alone a new face..."

Barely registering the damaged turbolift, Dox knelt down in the corridor to the right of the lift doors and began feeling along the lip of a ridge coming off the middle of the wall until she found what she was looking for. With a click, she pulled down the small hatch for an access tube. "The lift's are traps anyway. These tunnels are narrow, and it's a long climb down, but it's easily defensible, just ramp down the output settings on your weapon so it won't cut through the hull. Follow me."

Crawling into the tube, Dox felt around and found purchase on the rungs of the ladder. There was minimal lighting coming off of dim green strips every meter or so as she climbed down to give Sarika room to crawl in above her. "Get the hatch behind you. A short pulse at low yield off of that thing should weld it behind us for good measure."

Sarika was easily able to cut the power back for a more delicate beam in a tighter grouping and had soon climbed in and welded the hatch shut behind her. "Been so long since I've done anything like this..."

Once in, Dox kept her disruptor trained down as they began to climb down. And as they climbed, Dox could properly reply to Sarkia's comments. "Was that what you saw when you slept while the ship was in the Undrheim? Were you forced to... relive that?"

"That was the start of it, yeah. Then it just kept cycling into worse scenarios with Enalia and the other Baronesses... My former Second..." The silver-haired cyber-pirate paused a moment, resting her head against a rung of the ladder.

"You've never really talked about that much. I understand if you don't want to, of course. But the offer is out there." Dox said, leaning her back against the bulkhead behind her, balancing her feet on the ladder rungs and looking up at Sarika. "What's the expression? Quid Pro Quo. I'll tell you something for each thing you tell me? Sound fair?

After pausing for a moment, Dox started climbing back down, hoping Sarika would continue to follow. Her hope was that the activity would distract a little from having to think about what they were talking about, and as such, maybe make it easier to get the words out. 

"There's a lot I don't talk about so you'll have to be specific," Sarika replied, making her way down the shaft after Dox. Her smaller frame made it a bit more difficult for her, especially with the larger weapon, but she was getting there. "If you mean my former second... We were quite intimate before the tribunal. Unfortunately, he was part of Arennara's camp and had infected myself and half my command crews with that malware... And the other Baronesses had found him guilty of treason... Since I was emotionally involved and he was from my crew, I abstained as is custom, but..."

She paused in her descent and pulled her hat a bit lower over her eyes out of habit. "There's only two punishments for treason in the Artans under Enalia. Collecting on any outstanding bounties on you plus ex-communication, or a life sentence in the dilithium mines we use as a penal colony."

Nodding silently, Dox looked down and listened for a moment to make sure there wasn't anyone else in the tube below them as they kept moving. "So... would I be correct in thinking that this is eating at you from... multiple angles. That you allowed it to happen? Doubting your ability to trust your decision-making skills? Wondering how you missed it? Wishing you had been involved in his punishment? Guilty at maybe being a bit happy you weren't involved with his punishment, whatever it was?"

"Or... are you just angry at yourself, because... in spite of everything you did, you still care? You wish you could reach into your heart and pull out the part that still cares, but you can't?" Dox asked at the end, plainly. But the tone of her voice shifted to a very knowing, more sympathetic one.

"The last words he said to me..." Sarika was starting to lose it now as a bit more than moisture filled her eyes. "He said... No matter what... what happened... he forgave me... Why would he say something like that? After all we'd been through... After what he did... Why that?"

As they descended, they reached a horizontal access level. It was narrow and small, like a Jefferies Tube, but it gave them a place to stop and sit down on the same level. Dox checked for more Centurions, but it was still clear, and though she could have easily paused the simulation, she was hoping that the immersion was proving helpful as a needed distraction.

Climbing in, one after the other, both women sat next to each other, but on opposite ends so they could see each other. After a moment, Dox took a breath and crossed her arms over her knees. "I don't know. I... I can try and surmise based on what you told me, but it would be guessing. And considering that you are my friend, it would be extremely biased against him, in all reality."

"From here, it sounds like he knew you would be torturing yourself and wanted to set that seed in you. It's a horrible thing to do, but he did a lot of that, it seems. He manipulated you when you were together, and made it possible to do the same when you wouldn't be." Dox continued. "My grandmother. After everything she did. Kidnapped me and my mother and tried to kidnap my wife. Locked me up against my will and tried everything she could to manipulate me into becoming what she wanted me to be. After the isolation and the torture and the pain and the death. After everything... I still care about her. I still want to see her again. I still want to make her proud."

"Here we are. I'm free. I escaped. Enalia and Rita and the others rescued me and I have my life back. My children have been born, and I feel for them more than I thought I could for anything. But still... I'm ashamed to admit that there was a large part of me that wanted to give up on this ship. A part of me that... that still wants to go back there."

"They both got into our heads. And we're both still letting them live up here, torturing ourselves over our feelings for them." Dox leaned in and put her hand on Sarika's knee. "Beating ourselves up over what we did or didn't do with people that victimized us. But... no matter what, you weren't wrong to risk loving someone. As much as you may want to believe it, it wasn't your fault."

The silver-haired Baroness nodded silently, thinking it over as best she could with tears tinged with oil running down her face. "I don't want to believe you... But I think you're right. He was a rather manipulative Caitian. And now I have a bunch of cats in my quarters back on my ship. My new second passed a fleet background check so hopefully she's actually ok, but I still don't want to get too close. She was my former Fleet Activities Coordination Officer so the job isn't entirely unfamiliar to her, but..."

"But you've been burned... and burned hard. And that makes it difficult to trust anyone again. Believe me when I say, that I am extremely familiar with." Dox said, allowing a light smile to cross her lips. "And for right now, you have a unique advantage. You're here, so you don't have to risk getting too close before you're ready. Similarly, I'm here, so I CAN'T just waver with my Grandmother. She wants me back and she's doing everything she can to make me a part of her world politically. But to just talk to her is a rather... what's the phrase... Herculean effort, so I have that... buffer. And I will admit, that I'm happy for that."

"So, for now, take the time. Observe from afar. Sometimes, just having the IDEA that you can control a situation helps." The red-headed Romulan slapped the bulkhead behind her. "That's what it is. The illusion of control. I know this ship inside and out. What we're playing at... it's not possible. Security measures make everything we've done impossible. Sensors would have deactivated our weapons, had us beamed into the brig. There are force fields in these tunnels. I've learned how to counteract... maybe 15 percent of the defenses, like the force fields. But it feels good to try and get a little better. To exert just a little more control each time."

"Then perhaps you need a little pirate training," Sarika replied as several ports on her cybernetic arms cycled open and closed. "Most of us don't go off ship without a suite of sensor and transporter scramblers, not to mention ghost access chips for terminals to automate hacking. How do you think I got a cloak for my ship? Under Arenara how do you think I got funds and spare parts? Energy weapons don't work? Use a blade or your body."

"But in this, you're absolutely right. When you're dealing with equals and you can't exactly take what you want by force, even if there was something you wanted..." Sarika nodded solemnly.

"So... now that you've helped me work through some of my emotional issues, how about I help you learn to exert a bit more control over yours, one Baroness to another?"

Nodding, Mnhei'sahe smiled just a bit. "From one Baroness to another, that sounds like an excellent idea. When I was here... all I had to fight back with was my resistance. My words. And that feeling of... utter powerlessness... was something that still hurts."

"So, yes. A little pirate training just might be what's called for here." the Red-headed Romulan said, her smile turning into something of a smirk.

The cyber-pirate had a matching smirk as she replied. "Excellent. Then pull up the ballroom deck of the HMS Avante Garde luxury liner, grab a pirate costume and your preferred blades, and I'll teach you how a pirate pilfers precious knowledge and cargo from the exceedingly rich and politically untouchable while making them feel good about handing it over."

Dr. Mah finished her patient files for the day, and looked over her upcoming duties. She realized her security training schedule was falling behind, so she pulled up the security team members to see who might be available for help. Let's see, my options are fresh Klingon made Tova pancake, or possibly being spaced if I piss off the head of security. Decisions, Decisions. Tova sighed deeply as she thought over her options and decided that she would make a horrible pancake.

Okay Tova, you've faced worse and you know how to drug someone if all else fails. She went to the replicator thinking about an appropriate gift to thank the Commander for the favor she was going to ask, a habit left over from her family. She new the XO wasn't a lollipop kind of person, so she chose something more appropriate for her and headed up to her office.

As she stood in the turbolift she called Commander Paris =^=Dr. Mah to Commander Paris, are you available for a moment?=^=

"I have as many of them as you need, Doctor. My office or yours?" came the cheerful reply.

"I'm currently in the turbolift enroute to your office on deck 2, I should be there in a minute," replied Tova. She stepped off the lift making her way toward the Commander's office. On Deck 2 there were only so many destinations, as it was the small deck only slightly larger than the bridge, used for junior officer's quarters, and the Commander's office. While she intended to press the door chime, the door slid open at her approach to reveal the office of CDR PARIS, R as the modern signage on the bulkhead advertised.

Said office, however, looked considerably less modern.

The forward facing office of Commander Paris appeared, for all intents and purposes, to be a reproduction of her old office on the USS Exeter from 130 years ago. Clutter covered the bluish-purple painted bukheads, covered with shelves magnetically holding the bric-a-brac she had accumulated from years of strange adventures exploring space. The old irregularly-shaped conference table with the tiny tri-screen monitor was still there, for old time's sake, as were the pleather padded plastic chairs of the era. Photos of heroes of Starfleet past, mostly handsome white men with cocky smiles in uniforms not seen for a dozen decades or more were scattered here and there on the walls.

Including an image of herself, an older man and a young man closer to her age that all wore the same gold uniform, the masculine version of the one she sported to this day. Both men bore a family resemblance, which one might surmise to mean they were perhaps perhaps her brother and her father. Another image depicted an animated pair of characters, one of whom looked like a black-armored cartoon version of Rita, standing beside a nebbish wearing a blue button-down shirt and a ballcap, mugging for the camera like a happy couple.

A trideo image showed a handsome blonde captain in the captain's chair of a shiny version of the old-school bridge, leaning forward smugly with his hand on his chin. Beside and slightly behind him was to the right, the somber scientist Sonak, and to his left, Rita Paris, in the same uniform she wore today with only one and a half braids on the sleeve, a large and clunky PDD on her hip, posed like a pin-up model and bearing that million-watt smile. A photo behind her desk bore a photograph of an aged and dignified fleet admiral in a stiff white formal uniform of very long ago, which was clearly autographed, 'To Captain Rita Paris, Admiral Jonathan Archer'.

Alongside the books and a few odd geometric shapes were models of old starships that had never existed in this reality, as well as some that had. Vostoks and Mercuries, Apollo Soyuz and a Phoenix. One shelf at her own eye level when seated was the USS Constitution of the 2260s, the original ship of the Constitution line. Then there was a model of the more rounded-nacelled USS Exeter from her own universe, as well as a model of the refit USS Enterprise-A. Near the door hung a pair of bronze bracers and a gladius. They were not ornate workmanship, a bit thick and crude appearing, yet clearly Grecian in style if not origin. Behind her desk hung a stylized dagger wrapped in a torn golden sash, which anyone familiar with the dimension and era might recognize as the type worn by a ship's commander in the Terran fleet.

Clearly a deeply sentimental woman, in her own office, as with her uniform, Rita Paris surrounded herself with mementos of her past.

Yet here in her anachronistic office, the security chief also reviewed footage holographically. Thus the archaic-appearing office was currently awash with holos and screens, as she reviewed reports, did research and tried to ensure that even in a crisis, the starship ran efficiently and without incident. That was her job as First Officer, and she enjoyed keeping a tight ship for the Captain as the viewscreen facing forward, showcasing the stars streaking past at warp between her and whomever sat opposite her.

Part of which was tending to the crew, which meant a conversation with Lieutenant Junior Grade Mah, who arrived to find the door opening at her approach, to admit her to the office where the lights were currently dim, illuminated by the dozen various sized holographic 'monitor' screens the Starfleet survivor had open and working at the moment.

A fossil from the faraway era of rocker switches and dials she might have been; but despite her claims to be technologically challenged, Rita Paris was nothing if not adaptable.

"Come in and have a seat, Doctor. What can I do for you?" Paris asked, glancing up to confirm the entry of the physician and make eye contact. "What's on your mind?"

Dr. Mah took a seat while looking around the office observantly and then back to her Commander, "First I wanted to offer a gift, a familial and somewhat cultural tradition for when one is asking a favor, since this is yet to be an official request." She slid a pearlescent white box to Paris which she carried in.

"For you," Tova said with a small smile as she sat back, much less bubbly than typical, more professional and calm. The last time the doctor appeared this way was when she was treating Paris' own husband in sickbay, seeming to adjust her mannerisms to whom she was speaking to. It was reminiscent of how Dr. Dael mirrored those they sparred with.

"Well, thank you Doctor. A gift is unnecessary, but appreciated," the commander said, somewhat cautiously. Opening the box, she found it contained a replica of a starship, carved from beautiful white quartz. Eyeing the replica of the famous starship, Paris recognized it from history. "This is the T'Plana-Hath, the vessel that detected Cochrane's warp signature and introduced Earth to a galactic society. The first bridge between Earth and Vulcan culture... a very appropriate gift, in my case. Thoughtful and well-considered, Doctor... thank you!"

The words of the commander were not mere lip service, but sincere, and it was clear that she was touched not only by the gesture, but the thought and care that had gone into choosing it, as it was quite appropriate for the human woman married to a Vulcan male.

"So, with that said," Paris continued as she fished the small stand out of the box and set to displaying it in her desk, "now I'm only mildly afraid to ask what the favor you need might be? Tell me you don't want to keep experimenting with transporters..."

Tovanna shook her head, "Not at this point, it would be counter productive to our missions at this time. I would however like to continue working on Dr. Dael's research given my sensitivity levels to temporal disturbances. My request has to do with my phyisical training on security tactics. My prior experience as a doctor didn't lead to a great need for such long term confrontations. My strength is in medicine, patient confidentiality, investigation and research, restraining patients at most, fighting not so much. Thus I have come to you for your help."

Noting the doctor's lack of surprise at her anachronistic office and realizing apparently that conversation wasn't on the table, Paris addressed the issue at hand. "I'll be frank, Doctor, I'm not much of a fighter. I know the Judo they taught at the Academy many years ago, and I've become a fair swordswoman, but beyond using the targeting systems and improvising as I always do, if you want someone to teach you how to fight, there are far better qualified personnel on the Hera. What sort of 'fighting' did you wish to learn?"

Tova smiled at Paris, "There may be better fighters, but I was hoping not to be a pancake when all is said and done. From all reports, you seem to be one who thinks first- thus my selection of your advice. In Starfleet Medical, well non-Academy medical school, we are taught to restrain patients, to then sedate them. The same technique can be used with hypos, and was done during my time with the Captain during our little excursion. I can use daggers and such, because I know how to effectively slice and dice; however, I loathe doing so."

"That doesn't mean I don't know it may be a skill that is needed from time to time. Thus I am coming to you for a manner of self-defense that can inflict the least amount of physical damage with the most effective manner of knocking someone out, with or without the assistance of a hypo is needed." Tova shrugged. "Not to mention being thrown into a fight within my first few days on the Hera reminded me that despite my position, we are still all part of a team, and none are above entering the fray when needed for the sake of our crew." She looked at Paris with respect and understanding of where she fit into the crew, and her commitment to the job.

"My people call that a phaser, Doctor. It can be used on a wide-beam low power setting to stun a room. Is that what you're asking?" Paris tone wasn't confrontational nor derogatory, but bemused. No one came to her for advice on how to fight, after all. On a ship of remarkably dangerous opponents in personal combat, Rita Paris ranked rather low on the list of individuals sought out for combat training. Then realization dawned on her, and she felt the light of understanding might just be presenting itself.

"You read some of Dr. Dael's logs, didn't you? You familiarized yourself with their account of the action on Meroset 347, and it has you concerned over your own combat readiness?"


At that, Tovanna looked at Paris and nodded. "I would be remiss if I didn't review my predecessor's work. To see what was currently being worked on, what my crew needed of me, and so on. It's how I knew of your issue with the transporter ,and how I might further Dr. Dael's research without your involvement. And yes, my possible lacking in Security protocol. Thus I came to you, head of Security, for what you feel I might need in any given situation to be ready for our crew's best interest.

"And to avoid a pancake-like state of being. I rather like my current shape, and prefer having a solid rather than powdered skeletal system." The last part was said with a twinkle in her eye, and a small playful smirk she had yet to reveal, similar to the dry sense of humor one might see in certain other species. It showed the variance in Tova's ability to express herself in different ways given her surroundings.

"Avoiding a pancake state of being is an admirable goal. I will be frank, Doctor- I sometimes go where angels fear to tread, and I do call for others to accompany me. In such moments, best they be familiar with the options available to them and have some confidence in their training. So, in short," in that moment, Paris leaned forward, dropping the formal First Officer mein and relaxing a bit, her tone softening in sympathy. "Of course I'll train you, Tova. We can keep it private if you like so no one need be aware, and we can take it as light or as far as you like. If you decide you like combat, we have experts in dozens of styles onboard."

"But for now- just thee and me and a holodeck makes three. Once you're fitted for the EVA armor, of course," she added casually. "That we've got to do down in the Armory."

Tova nodded "Perfect," she leaned forward conspiratorially, "Now, one other thing before I squeeze myself into a vacuum pack for our training. Completely off the record, Commander," she looked around with a great deal of caution and then stared at Paris intensely, "What sort of nefarious deed must one get up to in order to acquire such amazing office decor, because mine sucks in comparison." She grinned widely at Paris with a bright twinkle in her eyes. "I can trade in lollipops," she lifted one slowly at Paris and waggled at her slowly.

"This does have a story, of course," Paris smiled indulgently. In her youth, she had watched as the young officers had asked of the old men's stories, of their souvenir, of the legends they had carved amongst the stars for themselves. In it was often feigned interest and obvious flattery, hoping to curry favor. But for some of them, those stories were what filled their dreams and inspired them to get out there in the galaxy. To boldly go, as the poster said.

Now she was Commander Paris, not her pig-headed father. Now she was the senior officer, likely on track to finish her rise in rank somewhere in Starfleet Command. She had designs on Daddy's old house on Francisco Street wasn't on the market, but she was watching it, just in case. Because when they settled back on Earth, she'd want to entertain, much like her father had- inviting the next generation to come and mingle with the old salts and establish a kinship between the generations of beings taking to the stars to explore and discover the wonders of the universe.

All of this ran through her mind as she settled back into both her chair and the role... both of which were quite comfortable for her.

"So I assume my file says it all- I am not native to this universe, but instead I was born in a universe similar to yours, but with a divergent timeline. A time traveler named Nero blamed Spock for the destruction of his world. In seeking his revenge he traveled in time, creating a splinter reality, an alternate timeline, a variant dimension- call it what you will. Thanks to my little 'talent'," Paris actually paused to raise her fingers in air quotes as she said it, "with transporters and a jury-rigged transporter panel in an ion storm during solar flares- see? Told you, exciting life sometimes."

"I ended up here in this universe, as an energy pattern, a ghost again. But when I ended up here there was nothing to turn me back into matter again until the Hera hit me, and I got splattered against the back of her warp field. Which pulled me back into a warp ghost again, so since I was kinda familiar with this state, I started exploring. Warp engines are a lot stronger now, so they could actually see my 'ghost' mucking about in Engineering, so the crew figured out I was here, Captain pulled me back together, and here I am. One universe and 130 years from where I started." The casual manner in which the old-school officer in the very old-school office was a bit surreal, yet it did explain a lot.

"Skipping a lot of that story, at one point we flew through a dark matter cloud that held some portion of the essence of a galactic consciousness. It ended up trapped in the holographics system when we escaped from the cloud, and it tried to communicate with us, by showing us something the computer couldn't know- my old office from the USS Exeter, back in 2268." Paris gestured around to it all before winding up her story. "We freed the entity, but as a parting gift, they left the file with my office accessible. So while they are reproductions of the originals... they're original enough for me. The Captain gives us considerable leeway to maintain our offices in a manner in which we see fit. in my case I am by far the most old-fashioned officer in the fleet. My uniform says it, my demeanor says it and my office genuinely screams it," the buxom blonde grinned at her own joke, which turned into something of a bashful smile.

"Thanks for letting the old lady ramble. I used to listen to the old men tell stories, and now I'm the 'Old Lady'. But I'm okay with that... it's tradition, and that's very important, I think. Adapt them to the times, but traditions help us remember where we came from, and those who went before us. It honors them, and honors the generations yet to come." Pausing, Paris eyes opened wide before she burst out in good-natured laughter. "And I am rambling again!"

Tova stared at her for a moment and pulled out all the lollipops she had from her pocket without breaking eye contact and placed them on her desk, "Now that is a story worth all the lollipops I have on me." She sat back in her chair and looked at Paris with fascination, "I really want to pick your brain now. You're a science and history lesson all rolled into one. If you were a book I would read you cover to cover." Tova laughed at the thought. "Alright, first training to make sure I'm up to specs on your Security protocols. Later dinner and more stories at some point, fair deal?"

"Absolutely, Doctor. I don't mind at all- I mean, I am something of an expert on Starfleet history of the period from which I came, and while my history is a bit different than yours, it is still very valid in many cases. Honestly, just between us, one of these days- after I've attended the modern version, at least- I think I'd like to teach at the Academy. History I suppose, most likely. Or possibly command ethics." Pausing to lean over, select a green lollipop, unwrap it and pop it into her moth, stick protruding prominently, Paris rose from her chair.

"Dinner and stories is a go," Paris confirmed with a smile. "I'll let Sonak know we're having guests tonight. Meanwhile, let's get you down to the Armory on Deck 11, and get you suited up for a little field work, hm?"

Tova's smile faded a bit, "I guess it's time to get vacuum sealed, I must admit I have little fondness for those suits. I feel like a compressed lab specimen." She stood up, "Lead the way Cognoscenti and I will follow," she giggled and waited for the Commander, "Your hamster awaits her maze."

"Not at all. We'll get you suited up and give you a feel for it. Bodies come in all shapes and sizes, Doctor. I would think you to be more of an advocate of body positivity, no? Or is it just the form-fitting nature to which you object? Not a fan of anything that close?" The question might be penetrating, but it was asked lightly, as the emotional executive got up, habitually smoothing down her skirt as she did so then walking around the old-school conference table that served as her desk. Clearly the plan was in motion.

Tova laughed as they walked along, "I appreciate bodies of all races, shapes and sizes and their beauty no matter their gender. I merely prefer the more flowing clothing style I grew up with. It allowed for our arms and legs to move with greater freedom, nothing more. Besides, it avoids awkward interactions between myself and others I am uncomfortable addressing." Tova shrugged.

"Fair point. I didn't know if it was a 'self conscious around me' thing," Paris explained as they departed her office and headed for the turbolift down the corridor. "I get that from a lot of people- these days due to rank as well as how I'm built, but I assumed yours was more the clothing preference. Well, no worries, Doctor. The suits are skintight, yes, but then covered in hard armor plates for additional protection, but I think you'll find the custom body suit to be quite comfortable."

Arriving at the turbolift, pressing the call button and almost immediately the doors opened for Paris, as if the universe responded to her timeclock. Stepping inside, she kept talking. "So would you like to do with the standard USS Hera black nonreflective stealth version, the white with the red cross that not every culture understands but the can all see clearly, or Medical blue?"

"I tend to lean toward whatever doesn't get me shot or make me a target," Tove replied as she stepped into the turbolift.

"Deck 11, the Armory, please," Paris called out, then motioned for the chief medical officer to continue.

"Somehow I think bright white might be a poor choice," Tova managed to get out before the ride was done, and Paris was off and moving again in that martial gait of her that ate ground so effectively. Hustling to keep up, Tova continued. "So when you say medical blue, how dark are we talking about? I don't think the enemy is going to care if I am a medical professional. If my reading about historical battles has taught me anything, it's that it can make me a priority target to be shot at, taken hostage or taken prisoner. That's one problem with being a history buff- too much knowledge, so I will defer to your field expertise." said Tova with an eyebrow cocked in concern.

"Not at all, Doctor. It's a choice we make, each of us," Paris replied as the arrived at a circular room, with industrial scan bars and replication stations, with grooves in the walls for waldoes and such. there was privacy, which the CMO was uncertain if that was by design or not. "Computer, please bring up holographic representations of three standard humanoid female EVA armors- one in standard Medical blue, one in Hera stealth plating and one in Doc Dael configuration."

The representations, lifelike to a fault, hummed into being before the gold-clad commander, who began pacing before them as she indicated them during her speech.

"Medical blue says Starfleet science or medical. Identifying yourself to the enemy on the field is a potential hazard- in that you are clearly correct, as history bears you out time and again on that front. However, doctors were usually prized, and preferred for capture as they could be put to use- I believe that is also historical fact. My point being, for some it is preferred that the bright colors of Starfleet are meant to be seen. Because we are here to help, and we wish to serve as rallying points for those who encounter us."

Pausing to turn ad smile self-deprecatingly, the curvaceous commander draped her hand on her collarbone, as if touching pearls there. "Obviously this is my school of thought. When I got here and saw those black and charcoal uniforms with the hint of color at the collarbone, I was afraid I had landed in the Mirror Universe again. I believe that we wear these colors because they identify us as helpers, as heroes when people need help."

Moving on, Paris indicated the jet-black, so dark as to be seeming to absorb the light that touched it, suit of Extra Vehicular Armor.

"Hera hull plate stealth coating can be activated at any time on any EVA armorsuit. It provides a degree of ablative protection, and is mostly light absorbent- not black, but a pearlescent violet that will react under certain stimulation, as you can see by the lighting on the Hera's exterior hull. It is excellent for stealth missions, and will very much enable you to be far less noticeable on the field. But to my mind," Paris paused to wag her finger at the solid black nonreflective armorsuit. "This does not say 'I come to help'. This says, 'I am an assassin who has come to slip past you and murder you."

The old-fashioned officer pointed to the Medical blue and black armor.

"We come in peace, I am here to help."

Then she pointed to the stealth armor.

"Not quite the same message."

"Now Doc Dael, they had some ideas when it came to being there to help," Paris moved on, pacing over to the white armor with the wide red cross emblazoned across the front and back. "They wanted it very, VERY advertised that they were there to help, and to heal. Which they did with a rifle in their hands and more bravery than I've seen in admirals under fire. But that... was a very personal choice. I bring it up here because I think it's important to make the distinction to you."

At that Paris turned and regarded Tova Mah with all due seriousness. "No one expects you to be Doctor Dael. Your choices, how you choose to run your department, how you comport yourself, will not be compared to our former chief medical officer. That is the past, and the past is a distant country... trust me on this. Just know that you are not being held to a standard borne by the memory of your predecessor. This is Starfleet- you're here because we need you here. Understood?"

Tova looked over the three sets of armor and scrunched her nose at the stealth set clearly not in favor of it. She then looked to the other two and smirked, "Must be an El-Alurian trait but I agree with Dr. Dael. I would prefer to risk my own well being in an effort to help others than look like an assassin or even just a Science officer. I want people to know I'm safe to come to, so white it is apparently. Never thought I would go for it but upon seeing the options the other two just seem wrong. Does that make sense?" She looked at Paris obviously surprised at her own choice but quite settled on it.

"It very much does, Doctor. Well, with that settled, let's get you scanned and suited, shall we? You just step on the pad there- exactly." Paris worked the controls while she kept up the patter- a good way to keep the subject distracted. :The scanner will do detailed exterior scans so that the pressure suit will fit, and the plates will all be the correct size and shape. There's little standardization in this process, after all. While you might be able to ger the skeinsuiot on, the plates would fit foorly. Each EVA is unique, precisely like it's owner."

"There we go, scans complete and replication beginning now." As some of the machinery hummed to life, the familiar sound of a replicator was heard, the sound continuing for a bit longer than the replicators found in quarters. "There wqe are. Your black underbody armor, which I call a skeinsuit, while Starfleet calls it a body glove, is coming out of the replicator- that one is the easy part. There's a privacy screen if you prefer, and let me know if you need help getting into it, alright?"

Tova looked st the skeinsuit and scrunched her nose, "I remember the vacuum bag," She sighed and went behind the privacy screen, able to get in with ease due to its similarity to many medical restraint devices. She came back out with a look on her face reminiscent of a cat who just got washed.

"Alright, I'm properly sealed up." She looked at Paris with her hands on her hips with a harumph. In reality she didn't look bad, it was obvious however she hid her self behind her medical coat and wore her uniform on the larger side for comfort. She had more muscle than one would think, the skeinsuit showing her more athletic proportions. If anything she had the pin-up T&A look rather than the typical female hourglass. She was obviously working out and muscular so maybe there was hope for her.

An upraised eyebrow was her response to the harumph and defensive body language. "You came to me for this, Lieutenant Junior Grade, so I'd drop the negative attitude with a quickness if I were you." As quick as the rebuke had been delivered, Paris pressed on as if it hadn't happened, continuing to instruct.

Tova giggled and scrunched her nose at Paris with a wink, getting her head back in to it.

"Now, there are the gauntlets and boots, as well as the thigh and bicep armor plates. The replicator should be producing and dispensing those, so feel free to start getting those on as the replicator produces them. The 'clamshell' of the thoracic body armor will be the last piece to be produced, as it is the most complex, and I'll show you how to get in and out of that when we get to that point," Paris explained, handing over a white gauntlet complete with forearm guards.

"For now, let's get focused on getting you armored up with the available components and insure there are no manufacturing defects in the production model, as the computer will replicate this for you on demand, stored as bulk matter rather than it's assembled state, for ease of storage. So we just have to make sure we get it right the first time."

She nodded, "If I remember it's boots first and then work up from the feet? I only had to do this a couple of times," she was putting on her boots as she looked up at Paris for a bit of guidance to remember the proper procedure.

"A matter of personal choice, but it does tend to work well that way in my experience," Paris agreed, offering a few suggestions for ease of insertion, pointing out where the securing clasps were located and how to lock them, and basically walking her through the early stages of donning the EVA as one would an Academy student. Surprisingly, rather than seem put out by the doctor's lack of understanding, Paris seemed quite happy to instruct and guide the physician through the process.

"Now that you've got the gloves and boots on, stand up, and the waldoes will bring the clamshell over- the center thoracic armor hinges at the waist and closes over your body..." Paris instructed as she guided the process along. "Right, that's it, and then it seals here, here, here, here and here.... and now you should be good to power it on- the power pack is on your back, with a 40 hour power supply and solar recharging capabilities onboard. Waste reclamation is handled by a small replication unit, so you won't starve and you won't drown in your own fluids."

"Am I correct that all of Hera's Security is equipped with this type of armor?" Tova nodded, taking close note of how the armor worked, studying to see how it was assembled closely. "Do we have all the changes to the standard specifications issued from Starfleet included in the medical database in case of emergencies?" She looked at Rita with a deeper appreciation for the lesson, "Seems I need to study these for more than just wearing but, also for quick evac of patients. It also seems I owe you another lollipop."

"That... would be something I would ask the Chief Medical Officer and expect her to know, Doctor," Paris pointed out, as the information was readily available to the CMO. "Yes, all of the Security personnel are equipped for EVA, but many of the crew are as well- Science, as well as R&D, most of the flight control department. Go ahead and engage the helmet to seal the systems, and bring up the holographic displays. You can use the visor that comes with the suit, as well as the interior of the helmet for your displays, and organize them according to personal preference. Different crew have different needs in these suits, so I encourage customization of the interface. It is, after all, uniquely yours, unlike a work station or a similar shared resource."

Humbled by the knowledge that, though she was well versed in her medical training, she had a long way to go in her military understanding, Tova nodded at her Commander. "Thank you for the reminder Commander, I will be sure to look into that information and review it thoroughly." She smiled at Paris with a growing respect and deeper understanding for the woman before her. Tova was beginning to understand how difficult the burden of being a Security Chief was, in addition to being the First Officer.

Not only did the woman have the crew to care for, but also to train, just as she was doing right now for Tova. It was similar to her duties as a department head in the hospital. Lives depended on you, and you were accountable for the mistakes under you- not just for their tasks, but their mistakes. It was a heavy burden, and one that was even more difficult in a ship with no available resources such as there were planetside.

It seemed her view of Rita Paris was changing to one of a deeper and more appreciative respect. Tova activated her helmet with a newfound desire to learn even more about how to ease the burden for her Commander. As the helmet built itself out of the housing it was stored in on her back, the displays activated, and not only could she see the internal monitors that were monitoring her life functions, but the full capabilities of a medical tricorder were now arrayed as commands she could control as a virtual visual interface.

Turning to Paris with her helmet displays flooding the readings in to her, Tova began managing the settings as she reviewed the Commander's biological readings. "Your life signs look good Commander, blood pressure excellent... CO2 readings within normal ranges... overall you are doing great for a woman of your age." Tova giggled at Rita.

That got her a wide and immediate smile, as well as a merry laugh. "See, no one ever makes jokes about my age. For pete's sake, I'm 164 years old. Or 31, if you only count the years I've been solid. But come on, for a very old human I am really knocking it out of the park!" Paris giggled a bit more at that, then sighed.

"Alright Doctor. What sort of environment would you like to experiment in to get a feel for the armor? Keep in mind, it's all holographic and the safeties are on." Holding up her hands, Paris waved them a bit in mock surrender. "This is not one of those 'Doc wants to learn about rough stuff so bully her' moments. This is a 'Let's get the Doc comfortable in the suit she already explained she is uncomfortable in so she can get the hang of training in it'. Understood?"

Tova stood there, her hands on her hips and head cocked thinking. "Hmm...well since the cat is out of the bag on my knife fighting might as well run a program for it. Most people don't even know I can do it but, here I was found out in my first week." It was obvious that when in a EVA suit, Tova again took on the habit of mimicking a different stance, that of one more comfortable fighting. It seemed a habit she was unaware of but, was somewhat amusing to watch. "Alright you wiley old 23rd century fox, let's go see if I can get a workout."

"Uh, I apologize..." Paris said as a frustrated expression settled on her face. "I thought I was teaching you how to prepare for potential exotic combat scenarios. I am not a knife fighter nor a trainer for that particular skill, Tova. You're likely better with a small blade than I am. I was under the impression you were more interested in getting a feel for the EVA armor and getting comfortable with it. Blades is more Dox's bailiwick, or the Klingons or the Captain. Sorry... I just have no expertise in that field, and clearly I misunderstood the request."

Tova looked at Paris and retracted her helmet for a moment, "I have complete trust in you to set up a training simulation for me Rita, don't doubt yourself. I'm not asking you to be the one to do the training one on one. But, I have little doubt you have faced a knife fighter in all your years in security. I'm asking you take a 30 year medical professional and enable her to serve her crew better. The one thing I have no doubt about is your commitment to your crew and its well being. That means you know what I need better than most. At this moment it's not the mechanics of fighting, I've proven I can survive a battle. I need guidance to overcome prior knowledge which is a much more difficult thing to learn, and something I must face over and over again in my life and is something you must have the patience to teach no matter the student. You, Rita Paris, will be the first teacher I have for this lesson, its a lesson you are uniquely qualified to teach, given your personal history, and one I need given the future I face. So Security Chief, I need you for this, I need to learn how to think about life on a ship, not with the ease of a replicator and full crew at hand. That's what I am asking of you, as a Listener, that's what I must hear." For the first time, it was easy to see the wisdom of Tovanna's race that was frequently spoken of, the talent for saying what was needed as advisors and how she was easily a 60 year old woman. She nodded at her Commander as she once again activated her helmet as she laughed.

"Now show me the way, oh wise one." She knew she was egging on her Commander as she playfully kept up the age jokes.

"Alright, first? I've been head of Security for a year. I only took on the job in addition to First Officer duties because I was appalled at the Security team I took on an away mission," Paris explained, her brow furrowing slightly at the memory of the mission in question. "So that's your first lesson- don't assume competency. Yes, I have faced off against knife fighters before. But I have faced off against professional chefs, too- that doesn't make me a professional chef."

"So, with that said, rather than teach you knife fighting, as that's very much not my bailiwick, how about I teach you what I think will save your life and keep you safe, hm? Because THAT I am more than qualified to do, and we can still spend time together, you can still get to know me, and you aren't putting me into a position that makes me uncomfortable and instead playing into my actual expertise. Think we can get on that page together, old lady?" With a smirk, Paris shot one back at the El-Aurian physician who, by human standards, was also quite elderly, although like Rita, deceptively youthful on the outside.

Tova laughed "Touche' old gal, though I doubt you would be put in charge if you were less than capable and it's exactly that capability I have trust in." She shrugged, "As for knife fighting versus some other sort of exercise, I'm more focused on a making sure I live to save lives, changing my mind set on how I handle patient care on a ship. I know how to work with the equipment I am handed, and well, between me and you and me, making sure I don't get the worst wedgie of all time while I do so. It's really hard to focus with a wedgie." It was obvious that Tova was playful despite her moments of depth. It almost seemed she wanted to hide the deeper levels she was capable of unless she was in the medical bay or perhaps she desired someone she could consider a friend.

"Go commando," Rita Paris stated flatly. Squinting slightly, when the full-figured first officer spoke again, her tone was light, low and her eyes offered earnest honesty. "Please...Doctor Mah. Tova. If I had a better idea of what you want from me, not in general but in specific, I could help you. So I'm going to go out on a limb here. The combat readiness isn't really the issue here. Nor the EVA armor, nor the wedgies. This is the first starship posting you've ever had, and because you're an amazing doctor, they assigned you to the starship of wonders. Which makes you feel very, very in over your head. Looking around, a lot of these people are intimidating, and while you are still trying to find your footing and the flow of the people around you, you could kind of use a friend."

"How'm I doing so far?" The ancient astronaut peered at the young immortal, the smile still friendly and a bit knowing and mischievous.

The helmet snapped back revealing a deeply blushing Dr. Mah, who was obviously thrown off her game, "I, uh uh, I uh no that's not my uh um .... style." She looked at her suit as if trying to get back on track. "Um for the training, I really do need to have a new mindset on how to address my new role as well as the physicality that goes with it. That was not untrue and is indeed an issue based on my own bias. As for a friendship, well you are not completely off base."

Perching on a container, the El-Aurian physician looked at the time-tossed tempest with her deep look once again, "I face what you have already seen- my friends have started to age, some have already succumbed to old age. I am trying to learn how to deal with this reality." She looked down at her hands and took a breath and then back at Rita, "I grew up on Earth, thinking like them despite my parent's best attempts/ But the actuality is I will live thousands of years. Being a doctor is just the first step on a long list of many careers I will have. Given my race's limited numbers, my options for spouses and children are boundless. So as I said, I chose you to be my first real teacher, for things that are more than academic. You will likely be the toughest teacher I'll have, because these are the hardest lessons I have to learn." She sighed heavily quite aware of the weight of the the lifetime she would lead.

"alright Tova- then that's the very first lesson," Paris replied softly. "Old age won't kill you. Deep space will, poisoin will a fatal wound will be just as fatal to you. You are highly resistant to the aging process- that renders you not immune, but resistant. You will still age, and you will know infirmity- just not at the same speed we mortals do." As she said the words, there was no rancor, bitterness nor jealousy in her tone. Instead, they were the soft tones of a counselor, or an older sister trying to explain a delicate subject to a younger sibling.

"You are still mortal and you can die, Tova. So that's the very first thing I will teach you- you will not live for thousands of years. If you are very careful and a bit lucky, you MAY live that long. You will play a great many games of dice with the universe, the longer you are here. And I am here to tell you, the universe will test your resolve to be here. There will be times when you don't believe there is any way to survive or escape. In those moments, you must WANT to live. It is not guaranteed, not even for your people. You will have to fight and scramble and run and go past the limits you believed for yourself in this lifetime. They key in those moments," Paris laid her hand on the younger woman's shoulder, with a half-smile and patient eyes that clearly knew of which they spoke, "is to remember all of the amazing things that are in this universe. All the things you haven't donbe, places you haven't seen, people you haven't met... or people you refuse to lose."

"So that's the first thing I will teach you, Tova Mah," the ultimate survivor, remnant of a universe that no longer existed, who had survived and thrived a dozen decades past reports of her death explained to the young immortal. This was, after all, an area in which she had indisputable credentials and skills, as an all too human explorer, who was all too mortal. "A long life is not guaranteed. You will have to want it, and the universe will test your resolve to be here. You must want it more than the universe wants you gone. It may not make a world of sense to you now, but when that first test comes, hopefully you will remember my words. It isn't about fighting, or diplomacy, or pleading or safety. The first rule is always remember just how amazing and sweet is is to be alive, and hold fast to that in your darkest hours... and never surrender that gift willingly. Stall, bluff, plead, seek peace, or fight if you have to. But hold onto life with both hands, Tova Mah, or it might just get away from you. Understood?"

Tova nodded looking a bit sad. "I have a many greats grandmother who is in fact over two thousand years old. I feel blessed that I have longevity in my line as well as the will to survive.You sound like her, that the will to live is the first step. It's why I started teaching myself knife fighting, I consider it a duty to live for myself and others who didn't get the chance. It's why I became a doctor, because every breath we take is a gift so many take for granted and so often is denied due to circumstances like disease, injury or lack of medical care."

"There is one thing I haven't really mastered though, beyond that of doctor and my duties. It's the main reason I chose you- it's the qualification you have above all others in Security. You aren't the strongest physically, the fastest, maybe even the most patient of the ones with the intellect. You have the perfect combination of all of those traits however, with the admirable quality of heart that is often overlooked....It's that experience as a human that I seek so I might learn to become the Earth born El-Alurian I am. The hardest part...." She stopped.

She looked down, so vulnerable and then to Rita, "How do you say goodbye?...To those you loose to time, to age, not injury but just life that can't keep up with your own?" She sighed deeply. " Its why I want to do the best I can for my team and crew. Because one day the only familiar face may be that of Dr. Power. How do you deal with it AND wear underwear? She looked at Rita a smirked weakly.

The rambling worried her, honestly- could she be going prematurely senile? Rita wondered, but kept it to herself. Meeting the eyes of the woman who was physically twice her age but looked half it, Rita's eyes narrowed a bit. "What have you told your patients in thirty years of practice, Doctor? You have to advised plenty. Surely in a career that lengthy you have lost patients and had to comfort the bereaved."

Tova thought it over, "I told the families we did the best we could and apologized or maybe it was their time. In some cases that it was good that they felt deeply enough to cry because a life mourned is one with meaning for the saddest life is one no one cares about." She looked down, "The reality was however I had sympathy, not empathy for what I was saying to my patients. Before I left I lost my first friend to age. Now here I am facing such a possibility again not even knowing how to work my own armor. And to think I used to be the top in multiple fields of medicine. I feel like I am just figuring out I am not human and completely in over my head." She looked at Rita, "What do you say when facing loss?"


"As for me..." The pale blue eyes of the earth girl glazed over a bit in reverie. "When I was a warp ghost, I WAS the dead, moving unseen and unknown amongst the living. I... don't recommend it. Then when I lost everyone, I lost them all at once- my world, my place in the universe, my ship, my crew, my captain and my t'hy'la. When you jump in time, you don't just lose everyone," Paris turned back, eyes sharp again. "You lose everything. All of my knowledge was outdated. I missed 130 years of cultural developments and discoveries. What's a 'fill in the blank common knowledge' is still not an uncommon question for me."

"So while I had to grieve a few individuals, and for the first few months I would hear the name of a starship and think of an academy mate on that ship... but no, not the one I attended. Because wrong time, wrong universe. Well.... and by the time we were done, our entire timeline was undone... made never-was. Sonak and I are paradoxes. We exist, despite having no origin reality which spawned us." Realizing she was sounding a bit morose, Paris chuckled darkly. "So I'm afraid I don't know how to face losing people and watching them grow old and die, Doctor. If you want me to teach you that lesson, it'll take time... the rest of my life, I suppose, however long that may last."

Tova nodded, "So it looks like this is one lesson where we both just learn together, huh? You realize I will not be okay with letting you go, nor will this crew, as beloved as you are so you are not allowed to die." Tova stopped and reviewed what she said, her feeling she needed more training, all of it. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath to examine the issue from the outside.

There was a reason doctors didn't treat themselves or loved ones, be they physicians or psychologists, and were known to make the worst patients of all, as they tended to lose perspective. Tova was flying without balance for the first time in her life. No real friends, no peers she felt comfortable enough to go to, no one she felt she could trust with her deepest secrets. It was something few people realized about the medical field. It took more bravado than most understood to deal with life and death on a daily basis, to be trusted with the problems of others with the exception of having none yourself. Tovanna knew how precious life was, how delicate life could be- hell ,she understood how to kill more effectively than most people could fathom. In turn, she also knew how to save someone in multiple scenarios with a simple tube and knife. Its why she hid behind smiles, lollipops, books, jokes and hid in general. She opened her eyes and looked to Rita, her face changed to a new state of focus and formality.

"My apologies Commander, I've been far too informal and taken up too much of your time. I appreciate the opportunity to get to know you better. I have come to realize this is more an issue of physician heal thyself upon reflection. I will make sure to stow the suit should it be needed for away missions." Tova swiftly began removing the armor as she was speaking, "I will focus on the training I received at the Academy to ensure I am prepared for a point where your instruction will not merely waste your valuable time."

"Are you sure this wasn't all just a ploy to make friends with the odd First Officer, because this is your first starship assignment, you feel like you might be in over your head, and you really could use someone to talk to out here?" The question was asked quietly. While there was no one within earshot, Paris was being private and gentle, choosing her words and her tone carefully. "And I'd stop removing that suit if I were you, because we aren't finished yet, Miss Mah. Where we're going, you'll need it."

To that, there was silence, and Paris pursed her lips, and sighed.

"Tova, I'm sorry. I've handled this poorly, and I'm alienating you when you are reaching out to me professionally. Please, come with me. There's something I think you need to see." With that, Paris stepped over to one of the hatches, which hissed open at her approach. gesturing inside, she eyed the physician. "I'd like to maybe put it into perspective, and maybe fulfill a bit of what you're asking for. Would you be willing to accompany me for a walk on the hull?"

Tovanna looked confused, "The hull....as in the outside of the ship? You mean walk around on it?" She looked quite nervous but decided to trust the Commander. Afterall her original fear was that she would be spaced by the woman, at least she'd gotten a few laughs in before going and wasn't a pancake. Besides she already knew the face of Death that would come for her if this was her time, at least she would get to hug Rei personally. Somehow knowing Rei would be the one to come for her if things went awry made her feel better. She shrugged, "Ummm, okay."


"there's that enthusiasm. C'mon, it's safe, I promise you. The EVA armor is literally designed for this, and it has gravity magnets built into the boots," Paris explained as she opened the door to an airlock that apparently bordered onto the armory, for what now seemed like perfectly logical reasons. "Honestly, we're going for the view. But maybe so you can get a bit of a feel for the scale that you live on these days."

As Tova entered the airlock, Paris closed the hatch behind them, then turned, stiff wearing her anachronistic minidress of gold velour, which Tova somehow had trouble believing was going to protect the woman from a chill, forget about the vacuum of space. As Paris met Tova's eyes, she held her arms up before her, exposing bronze bracers of ancient design she wore beneath.

Then the curvaceous commander was clad in her EVA armor, all black and gold and still bearing the crest of old Starfleet on her left breast. As she watched, the power systems kicked on, and the lights of Paris' suit kicked in as she ran a quick diagnostic. "Stored in an extradimensional weapons cache. Non-regulation, but like my uniform, special dispensation and long story. Meanwhile," tapping at the control panel, Paris depressurized the compartment, then once that was accomplished, retracted the hatch onto the saucer section, at the starboard armory hatch, on the flattened surface of the saucer section. Steps organized themselves as the hatch disgorged.

Outside that hatch, the stars were streaking by at warp.

Taking the first few halting steps, her gravity magnet boots keeping her adhered to the deck, Rita Paris turned back to the young immortal, holding out her hand.

"Come on, Tova. The universe is waiting to meet you."

Tova took Rita's hand in a deathgrip with greater force than she intended. She looked like a cat that had been dumped in the middle of a lake with only the Commander as her lifeline as she stepped out, "I know you are being poetic, and I swear I don't want to ruin the moment, but... you know how you said go commando? Let's just say I'm really glad I didn't, because right now my ass is trying to eat this suit, and my underwear is the appetizer." Tova looked at Rita with eyes as wide as saucers ,placing every bit of trust the doctor had in her Commander. She was using every bit of bravery and self control she had to face the stars that seemed quite frightening at the moment.

"Easy does it... there you go, one foot in front of the other. Now..." As Tove reached the top of the stairs, the experienced explorer had not let go of her hand- if anything, her own grip was rather tight and secure, matching that of the anxious anatomist. Helping her up the last step, Paris gestured to the stars streaking by at warp, the light smearing fore to stern.

"There's a bubble of real space this close to the ship, so you actually can walk on the hull at warp. The deflectors are keeping anything away from us, of course, which is part of what makes warp speed possible. But so long as we stay close to the hull and don't do anything silly," Paris gestured to the universe streaking by at greater than light speed.

"We get a view like no other," Paris declared, staring up, taking it all in like she belonged there. "Come take a good look at the scale that you live on now, Tovah Mah. Come say hello to the universe."

Tova looked Rita and took a deep breath. She was trained to walk in space just not while traveling at warp speed. She knew however that just as others placed their faith in her on the operating table she could place her faith in Rita when it came to flying. She'd studied the woman enough to know she was a capable and devoted pilot. Tova took another deep breath getting her lizard brain to quiet down, giving her rational brain a chance to kick on as she looked around.

"It's beyond words" whispered the doctor. For the first time in her life she felt like someone finally showed the breadth and depth of what she was gifted as an El-Alurian. She was gifted what so many others considered lifetimes to explore all of this and more, it was endless, breathtaking. She felt unworthy puff such a gift as years fell and she let go of Rita's hand looking at the universe before her. She understood in that moment what her great grandmother removed had meant when she told her Wisdom is understanding how tiny you are in the universe, yet how important that makes you.

"Can we just sit for a moment please?" the young immortal asked Rita Paris, who sat down beside her without a word, to take in the stars.

Taking Tovah Mah's hand in her own, together they watched the universe slide by, in all it's glory.

Tovanna kept looking out at the stars and spoke quietly, "I knew you were the right teacher, Rita," she sighed "I am a child of two worlds, and I'm still learning what that means. As I look at the stars before me, I am beginning to comprehend the magnitude of the gift the universe has given me... as well as all it entails."

Pointing to the stars ahead of them, stretching to infinity behind then, Tova waxed rhapsodic. "The reality is, it terrifies me to face such a long life. Until recently it was a concept- I never thought of the realities that came with being El-Alurain beyond my heritage and namesake. Now I meet people like you, Adam, and others on this crew, and for the first time I find that I want to, well, stay." She looked at Rita with a small smile. "In the moment. With the people around me."

"It also doesn't hurt that now, I can't run all over a planet to get away from anyone anymore, especially myself." She looked back to the stars, not yet ready make eye contact as she shared her feelings. "I have feared close bonds beyond family, because of the pain of losing people. I saw it when I first became a doctor- the pain of loss, and realized I would face that pain over and over, living such a long life."

"Yet here I sit facing a crew of mortals, trapped with them as it were, and I really gave myself no choice did I? The worst part is, I really stink at allowing others care for me, at opening up to people like I am to you. I'm a master at playing the fool, saying nothing while it seems I say much, or just listening."

"So now, Rita Paris, you know the reality. I am a wizard at deception when I choose. It takes a great deal of intelligence to play stupid, a great deal of integrity to admit when you are ignorant, and the humility to be honest." She looked at Paris, now revealing her deepest secret of all.

"I'm not stupid, there is much of which I am ignorant. I do not have too much pride to admit it, and will say if I am; above all, however, I have integrity. Because before I answer to you, I must answer to myself. I do, however, try to avoid that which is emotionally uncomfortable like the plague." She shrugged and stood up, putting her hand down Rita. "Come on, that's all the deep thoughts you're prying out of me for one day, Teach."

"Then sit down, because teach still has a lesson for you," Paris replied, patting the spot next to her. As Tova sat back down, Paris snickered before she took a shot at encompassing it all. "Pry it out of you. Please."

"Save the universe, and it will reward you every day for it. An old friend told me that, years ago," Paris mused. "But in the here and now, just live your life, Tova. Not everything needs to be grandiose and dramatic. Sometimes it can just be about that time you asked Rita Paris for combat training, and she suited you up and took you out to look at the stars, so you could feel insignificant yet connected to the universe in a way you never had on Earth. The deep and grandiose lesson of it all will be relevant to the person you are explaining this to long after I'm just a footnote in the history books."

"In there here and now... just simple lessons, Tova," Paris explained, gesturing to the broad horizon of streaking stars that formed their vista. "Be here, now. Plan for it, yes, but tomorrow will take care of itself. Centuries from now you won't be who you are now, you will be so much wiser, older, who knows what else. But that's yet to be. Focus on here, now, us- the people who are trying to be your friends, on this starship of wonders, as we explore in the greatest adventure of them all."

"That's just it though..., Tova looked at Rita, "you are more than just a footnote, all of you are. You will live in my heart in my memories, my memoirs and notes for as long as I do and beyond. A life is so precious, it has meaning, impact. I can feel when time is not in synch, when a life is out of place."

"YOU are just such a life, Rita. You are blank to me, you are not in place here, yet you clearly make a difference. There are others here that are like you, even the ship itself. I feel it all the time. It's overwhelming at times, maybe that's why I sound like life encompasses more than just one moment. I feel time and it's continuum even moreso than some of my race." Tova shook her head, "It has its joyous moments... like finding sweet Minnie when she is hiding, I can feel her displacement. At other times though..." Tova never revealed her ability to those outside her race. Most knew very little about El-Alurian abilities in the matter, but she felt it was important the Commander know what was at hand if needed. "That's the other part I will need help with."

"Ahhhh. You see, for that you need a specialist, Doctor, not a generalist like me," Paris replied, whioch seemed cryptic until she explained in the next breath. "I'll set you down for a chat with Hera. She has a great understanding of such things, your best interests at heart, and you won't be the first El-Aurian she's counseled. Between your questions about immortality and your El-Auruian abilities, I had planned to send you to see her anyway. But you asking directly... well, she's the specialist, and I trust her with my life. So I'll make you an appointment."

"Meanwhile we could just relax and watch the stars slide by, Paris said, leaning back and taking her own advice. 'Or you could make another impassioned declaration..."

Laughing with relief, having gotten everything off her chest for the first time ever, Tova laughed. She was glad her Commander now knew everything, "I'm good."

With that, Tova Mah followed the lead of the anachronistic adventurer, and just sat back to appreciate the stars.

When the door chime rang, no one was expecting company. Yet someone was at the door, asking to be let in, rather than calling through the comms. Which was unusual in their shipboard society, but not unheard of.

Since Enalia and Maica were both in the small nursery with Moira, it was Aiva that made it to the door first to answer it. The person on the other side hadn't been added to her registry yet, which likely meant they were a new arrival, especially considering the unusual biological configuration of the visitor, but she greeted them just the same.

"Welcome, Lieutenant. Mistress Telvan and Lady Maica are currently preoccupied with their infantile unit Moira at the moment. Would you like to wait inside while I announce your presence?"

"That would be fine," Ironhooves nodded as she stepped inside, making careful footfalls so as not to vibrate the deckplates and potentially disturb the baby, even though she was likely a dozen meters away on this collossal starship with it's enormous quarters. In her own, the four-hooved healer had cleared the furniture and made herself a track of sorts, with most of her belongings in storage in the center. But bipeds lived differently, and she respected their need for furniture and such.

"Please tell the Captain that I'm here to raise a toast to the past. I think she'll know what I'm talking about." Under one arm, the Kutachi healer had a rather large drinking horn slung, which looked as though it had been pulled from storage. She looked around at the decor, taking it in. Personal space said a lot about people, and she was curious what the Trill woman and her hologram had chosen to do with the place.

It was a few moments while Aiva announced the arrival of a quadrupedal Lieutenant with intentions of lifting double baked goods to history, which Enalia and Maica both couldn't help but chuckle at while they finished up with Moira's diaper. Soon though, Enalia came out of the nursery with Aiva while Maica headed to the kitchenette.

"Doc Ironhooves, to what do I owe the pleasure?" Enalia asked, greeting the centaur with a smile and a handshake.

Clasping the other woman's forearm in a warrior's greeting, the four-legged filly slung the drinking horn about to present it. "I heard the news. Starfleet sent me out here to put the pressure on, so you dropped it, all of it. Walked away from the pirates, the Empire, everything. So, given what a huge life change that was and easily not a simple decision, I come bearing the mead of my people, to commiserate your loss, and celebrate your course. Seemed like somebody ought to, and I seemed to be the best candidate. Given how they sent me out here to determine where your loyalties lay."

"That was all just coincidence, actually. I've been planning this for some time now, so it's more of a relief than anything." The Trill woman then glanced around the quarters - there was plenty of room, but it wasn't exactly furnished for entertaining such an unusual guest. "Perhaps we should reconvene in my private mess next door? The accommodations are holographic and can be changed to suit our needs."

The equine officer snorted, then settled her rump onto the floor, with her forelegs still up. Which gave her the unique appearance of being both seated and standing at the same time. "I'm a 2 kilo mammal, lady. I can sit where I want. If you'd rather be out of your quarters I'm good with it, but I figure this is your home, this is where you're comfortable. Your den, with your mate and your young."

"So, I brought drink. Because when you lose something, whether it's taken or you give it up, it hurts. So, we drink. Simple, no?" It was somehow not that hard to see the simple shaman in the medical doctor, who may have gotten started without her.

"That is indeed simple," Enalia replied, grabbing a pair of drinking glasses, a bottle of Artan brandy, and slipping into a nearby chair. "You know, I grew up in the Artan Fortress. Rather than a world to call home, I had a transparent dome and a controlling mother. Eighteen hours a day I trained from my earliest memories until I left home."

"But you know..." The Trill woman thought it over as she poured a couple drinks and handed one of the glasses to Tyra. "Back then I was running from something, but it's still my home. It does feel kind of odd to think that I might not ever return there again."

"Are you unwelcome there, now?" The bay mare held out the horn, offering some of the homebrewed mead even as she took a swig of the brandy, smacking her lips in appreciation. "Won't they still recognize and honor you? The past is not lost to them, just your titles. You they still respect, no?"

Enalia took a draught from the horn and handed it back, nodding solemnly as she followed it with a sip of the brandy. "Oh I'm still welcome. I'd be honored and still treated like royalty. My whole crew would be. But that's just it, isn't it? I go back even for a visit or shore leave and suddenly Elysius is planning a banquet, events, meet and greets... No, that's the other thing I wanted to get away from with Starfleet. Here, the weight of everyone's life is equal."

She then pointed a finger at the centaur before her. "And I had Elysius go to the Academy so I know she knows that as well now."

"So... you might not return there, but because you don't want to be an honored guest. Not because you can't, or you are an exile, or your choice will have negative repercussions for you. Sounds like a terrible problem to have," the centaur laughed, a bit of a whinnying affair. "Who's Elysius?"

The former pirate queen put on her best piratical grin and spread her arms wide. "Elysius Magnus, Daughter of the Captain of the Artan Fleets- Delor Magnus, Heir to the Artan Empire. She was trained to be the next Captain of the Artan Fleets, who coordinates the Baronesses for official duties and functions before I named her my heir. I also asked her to go to Starfleet Academy for that reason. I signed her papers and made a rather large donation to the Academy museum on her behalf, but she got through the accelerated program on her own merits."

"So the successor you had been grooming has been placed where you wished her. You are out from under the responsibility, yet still get to be treated like royalty should you return. Your divided loyalties have been addressed and Starfleet has no grounds to harass you over them. So... why are you still unhappy, woman?" The Arborean native did not mince words, nor did she particularly defer to rank. She spoke as being to being, taking no familiarities with the woman she barely knew, who had not invited her to do so. But nor did she defer to the higher rank of the starship captain. As the Trill woman had yet to object, the Kutachi granddam felt her gait was good and her footing secure.

The former pirate queen furrowed her brow and stared down into her glass, thinking it over. Something had been bothering her as of late and she hadn't quite been able to put her finger on it. She had everything she had dreamed of - freedom to choose her own path, a family, a good crew... "I don't know. Maybe it's something my mother once told me. Those in power must sacrifice for the greater good. She said a lot of narcissistic things, but that's one thing my grandmother said too, so I trust it. I know Elysius will be okay, and she's okay with taking over."

"But I'm wondering if my own happiness is worth it - if I shouldn't have retired from Starfleet and taken the full reigns of Queen and Empire instead... and if I'm lying to myself when I say I can do more good here."

"Why did you choose this? That's something I don't understand. You had an empire, a fleet and wealth beyond imaging and power limited only by your enemies. But you gave it all up for one starship that you command at the authority of others, and your word here is far from absolute. Why would you make such a choice?" The black-socked dam took a long swing off the drinking horn, then frowned and went back to the brandy.

With a grin, Enalia downed the rest of her glass of brandy and poured them both some more. "If I told you I could hand you your every desire... every wish you could ever imagine on a golden platter every morning and all you had to do was wake up and take it... Would you do it? Or would you rather go out and do something that you feel like matters and actually see the galaxy around you change as you work?"

"The first path is a lot of training and hard work initially, yes... But then again, what rich or royal parents don't train their children within a millimeter of their lives? The other path... The path of the Starfleet Captain..." The Trill woman paused a moment remembering why she ran off to Starfleet all those years ago. "Why did I choose it? Because of personal choice. Because of the hope and dream of Starfleet itself perhaps. Because as a princess, I normally felt alone. Put on a pedestal by almost everyone around me. And here? Here I'm never alone. Even when people treat me like a captain, they don't treat me like some sort of object you put on a shelf to be worshiped."

"Better to be a participant than a figurehead. Makes sense," Ironhooves nodded as she held out the brandy snifter for a refill. As Enalia poured, when she made to stop, the centaur's brows cane together and her free three fingered hand came up in protest, indicating her equine lower half currently supine on her living room rug. As the refill continued, she nodded appreciatively. "So with the resources and the chain of command and the exceptional people, you zip around the galaxy making a difference. All to keep you from being bored to death as a pampered queen in a high castle."

"And being independently wealthy in the greater universe as a whole, I have yet other resources to pull on should the need arise." With a soft chuckle, Enalia sipped at her brandy and continued. "Even without being a queen, I still have the largest collection of teacups in the galaxy. I also have a healthy tea and brandy brewery company and Maica has a steady income of latinum from her brokerage, not to mention our investments. If we wanted to retire somewhere off the beaten path, we can."

"But the Federation eschews the materialistic lifestyle, thus there is no need for wealth, as needs are met and desires can be accommodated. All that you have surrounds you, which is truly all that you need." The somewhat large brows of the centaur came together as she took another healthy swig of brandy. Savoring the flavor as she swallowed the mouthful in a few gulps, the appreciation of the liquor's warmth was evident as it traveled through her. Ending as it did in a flourish of her black tail, which was shot through with a few threads of silver.

"Where is your mate, and your child?" the older woman slurred a tiny bit. After all, the captain drank rather good brandy, and Ironhooves was enjoying it, getting her buzz on in the spirit of having a drink with the woman. "We share drink and make calm talk, here in your den. I have the hands of a surgeon, and am sworn to my Starfleet oath, under your command. Do you not yet trust me with your other and your colt?"

"It's bath time. They should be back soon. If not, I'll go check on them." Enalia motioned towards the small nursery where the sounds of water and giggling could barely be heard. "You're my guest though and you were asking about materialism? Because a replicated teacup is not of the same quality as a handmade one. A replicated painting is not the same as one painted by hand. Art can not be created by replicators. It's created by artisans with blood, sweat, and tears."

And that's something you have to exchange something of equivalence for," Enalia explained motioning towards a china cabinet filled with stasis emitters holding the teacups and saucers steady. "Those are some of my favorite pieces. Each has sentimental value and yet I normally only drink from replicated versions of each."

That was when Maica returned from the nursery holding Moira with Aiva behind her. Maica was wearing one of her red sleek masseuse dresses still and was rather wet, while Moira was in a gold onesie that read 'I've Boldly Gone' with a delta shield outline behind it. Aiva was of course in her maid outfit and somehow dry.

"Bath time went... as usual," Maica declared wearily, handing Moira off to Enalia and poking the green toy sword into the baby's hand to help settle her down.

"As usual. Thank you, my love," With a quick kiss, the Trill woman nodded to Tyra. "Tyra, I'm not sure if you've met them yet, but the emerald beauty is my wife Maica. The one in the maid outfit is my assistant from the Artans, Aiva. And this little lady is our daughter, Moira. Everyone, this is Lieutenant Tyra Ironhooves - I believe she's our newest member of the medical staff."

"You know I am, we talked about this," the cranky centaur grumbled, her rear legs in motion to get her flanks off the deck. Taking something of a full body shake afterward, she approached Maica, then placed her hands together and bowed. "I am Tyra, of Clan Ironhooves. I come as friend and counselor to your mate, not as an officer. So I greet you as the mate of my friend, whom I will not dishonor with a touch. But..." The granddam eyed the little green-skinned toddler meaningfully, her eyes sliding back to Enalia in a silent plea for permission.

For just a moment, Maica looked confused before she caught onto the meaning as Enalia slid little Moira into Tyra's arms. "Then I greet you in kind, Tyra, of Clan Ironhooves. Welcome to our home." Placing her own hands together, she bowed respectfully as well.

"She's a cutie, isn't she?" Enalia asked with a wide grin as now it was Tyra's turn to face the brunt of Moira's mighty swordplay.

As the tyke batted her with the foam rubber sword, the granddam smiled, reaching out with a thick finger to tickle the belly of the toddler, fighting unfairly against her assault. That in turn produced a series of shrieking giggles and a fart, which led to the four-legged physician to cradle the babe expertly in one arm, as if she had done it thousands of times, as she reached down with her free hand to interact with the child, to give her a sense of who she was, and that the person holding her was different than her parents. "Hello, little one. You are Moira, and I am Doc Ironhooves. You will know me in time, and I will care for you while I am here. I will protect you from harm as best I am able, and I will heal you when you are broken. That is my pledge."

With that serious statement made, the sentimental centaur turned to place the babe gingerly on her back, placing a bit of her long hair in the babe's hands like reins to hold on to maintain her balance. With the tyke securely placed, the centaur who earned her reputation as cranky promptly started gingerly trotting in place, simulating the motion of a horse in motion for the wee one. It tended to be a hit, particularly with female younglings.

As the young girl shrieked with untold glee, her parents looked on with fascination, Enalia reaching over and taking Maica's hand with a grin and making one more declaration. "You know, I think this is the biggest reason to stay in Starfleet. Moira deserves a normal, happy upbringing, and a right to choose her own future."

"I don't know if this is considered normal... in most places in the galaxy, your steed doesn't offer advice or drink your brandy," Ironhooves observed, taking another healthy swig of the rich liqueur. While Rita Paris eschewed drinking for her logical mate and stuck to synthehol unless she was angry at him, it appeared the grand old dam of the Ironhooves clan was perfectly at home drinking dry whatever fine spirits the Captain offered. If it was affecting her, it apparently was a positive effect, as she was happily trotting, simulating a pony ride while not threatening to run her parents over. The warm smile she offered the child was clearly more invested than she had been in any adults so far, save the troubled starship captain herself.

"Now, we can do this from time to time, but you must keep it a secret. If others find out I give you rides, then everyone will want them. And i only give them out to very special people. So we can keep doing it if you keep our rides a secret. Understand?" The gruff centaur held out her lower finger from her three fingered hand to the level of the child's eye and crooked it toward her in invitation.

Without hesitation, Moira reached up and grabbed the offered pinky with her whole hand and blew the happiest raspberry she could followed by more happy squeals and giggles, eliciting soft chuckles from her parents.

"I think that means she agrees," Enalia interjected as she finished her own brandy and set her glass aside for now, instead opting to pull Maica into her lap.

"Well sworn, little warrior," Ironhooves smiled at the little pirate in training, then looked around the quarters as she resumed the horsie ride.

"You do look happy here... home and hearth, fine command. I've snooped around," Ironhooves paused in her bump and jump pattern that was keeping the toddler amused to shoot a dirty look at the bemusement that was evident from the concept of the heavy-hooved healer 'sneaking'. "Nothing's broken, everyone seems to know their jobs, and everyone seems to get along. 750 souls and you are keeping them all content and flying and working. Easier than an empire, even if you did keep the help."

"So what now, Enalia Telvan? No longer queen, but captain in Starfleet, righting wrongs and lending aid. What's next for you in the chapter to come of the saga that is your life?" The centaur had a rather epic and literary way of looking at things. Which was unsurprising, given her background.

"Well, that's another thing I love about this life," Enalia declared with that piratical grin of hers. "As a queen I was the only one in the empire that didn't have the freedom to choose my own fate."

"Here? I think I'll see where the stars and Starfleet take me for a while. Find my own freedom."

Trotting over with her empty glass, the celebratory centaur held it out for a refill, and grinned.

"I'll drink to that."

It had felt very much like less time had passed than the week or so since Lieutenant Commander Mnhei’sahe Dox has returned to her post on the U.S.S. Hera.

The nature of the command structure of the wondrous, Nebula-Class Starship meant that as the Flight Chief, Dox was responsible not just for flying the ship or its various support craft, but for all of the other pilots on the ship and the maintenance of those support craft. If if had anything to do with flying, the redheaded Romulan was in charge of it. As such, she had a significant amount of paperwork left for her upon her return from her two weeks off ship for the birth of her three children on her wife’s homeworld of Miradon.

At the desk in her rather large office overlooking the main flight deck, Dox was busy reviewing files and hoping she had done the right thing dealing with the crisis that had occurred in her department during her time away. The Edosian Ensign named Wieaex had choked in her role of assistant chief. A delicate rescue mission to recall a number of the Hera's support craft needed to be controlled at the last minute, and Wieaex didn't know what to do. The woman was a skilled pilot and good under pressure AS a pilot, but in command of others, she panicked. The emergency had been managed with the help of another flight officer, Ensign Jessica MacNielle, but it had shone a light on a major problem with the Edosian pilot’s confidence. In spite of meeting with her to talk about it, Dox was afraid that she was going to lose a skilled pilot.

The two have talked and Dox had convinced the Edosian pilot to stay on the Hera and the two would continue to reinforce Wieaex's training, although the difficult decision had been made to move Ensign MacNielle up to the position of assistant chief for the time being.

Running a finger over her ear, which was a very old nervous affectation that Romulan pilot had carried over from her childhood, Dox was questioning her decisions. She was debating her OWN command abilities. Rita would have known exactly what to do. Rita would have had one of those perfect Starfleet speeches in her pocket that would have inspired everyone. Dox thought, berating herself.

With her head already swimming over the proper course of action to hopefully help a troubled officer recover her career, Dox was exhausted and glad for her day to be over. She looked forward to going home to her bond-mate and their three wonderful new children for the evening. Everything else would keep for the night.

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

At 0330 hours in the morning, a light chime stirred the young pilot from sleep and the computer’s voice lightly seemed to whisper to her delicately.

=^=Message for Dox, Mnhei’sahe. Lieutenant Commander.=^=

Laying in the nest-like bed she shared with her bond-mate, Mona Gonadie, Dox groggily crawled up to sit on the edge of her bed and slowly make her way into the main living room of their expanded family quarters so as to not disturb her sleeping wife.

After peaking in on the holographic sensors to check on Hlai’vana, Tala and Amihan, who were all sleeping soundly, Dox picked up a PaDD and flumped on the couch as she looked at the incoming message that the chime had alerted her to.

Tapping the screen to call up the message, Dox’s stomach tightened into a tight knot as the sigil of the Romulan Star Empire came up on her screen. In green letters below it, she read the words.


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

MESSAGE:

From: t’Rul, Verelan. Senator, Ihhliae province. 1,657th Session of the Imperial Senate. Fifth Day of the Second week of the Fourth month of Air. 1824 A.S.

To: Dox-t’Rul, Mnhei’sahe. Lieutenant Commander, Starfleet. Kolaes, Imperial Senate.

Greetings, Kolaes Dox-t’Rul.

A formal request for private, personal communications between yourself and Senator Verelan t’Rul has been tendered. Arrangements and timeline is approved by Starfleet Intelligence. Your presence is required and we have been ensured that you Vessel will make the appropriate accommodations for holographic communications at 0430.

Thanks are conveyed for your continued service to the Star Empire and the betterment of relations between our two governments.

Jolan’Tru, Kolaes Dox-t’Rul.
Senate Kharifv, tr’Naan.

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

Sitting back, Dox rubbed the bridge of her nose knowing full well that this was viewed by the Admiralty, Captain Telvan and Rita before arriving at her desk. And while it was written in Federation Standard, it was loaded with titles in her native Romulan such as one that was new to her. Plus, it no doubt woke up Enalia and Rita as well, which just added to her anxiety.

‘Kolaes’ meant ‘Emissary’, which she technically was, as she had been tasked with communication with Romulan Reunification colonies on her Grandmother’s behalf. But the title being used in an official communication was troubling. The Senate and her Grandmother seemed to be trying to send a message both to herself and Starfleet that Dox didn’t like. Much like Commander Dalia Rendal constantly referring to her as her ‘Apprentice’, this felt designed to make her superiors in Starfleet continually doubt her loyalties.

‘Kharifv’ simply meant a ’Mediator’, which was innocent enough, but still troubling that they were choosing to insist on making those at Starfleet translate parts of the message, down to the regional dating terminology that simply meant ‘June 4th’ on Earth Calendars. It was dog whistle communication and it immediately put the young Starfleet officer on guard for the holographic communication scheduled for an hour.

Looking at it, she knew that Enalia and Rita would understand that they were poking at her a bit. Both women trusted Dox’s loyalty and the young Romulan woman knew it, but she was still irritated. Which was NOT a good way to start a call with one’s grandmother.

‘Accomodations’ meant that the Hera would be pulling out of warp and coming to a stop near a subspace relay to affect clear, holographic communications. Meaning the ENTIRE ship would essentially know that they were being held up because of her. It was a bit of a hyperbolic moment on her part, but she would allow herself the self-indulgence of the irritation for the moment to help clear her head.

This call was most likely going to be about the Hera’s part in the recent engagement with a number of Romulan ships at Galorndon Core. The engagement that, while she was not directly there for, lead to joint operations between the Hera and the Persephone and their Romulan counterparts that were operating under false orders from the renegade Commander, Rendal. There was an official story sent out over the Federation News outlets extolling the bravery of the Romulans in helping save the Hera that she was sure Verelan would want the truth of. Dox was comfortable, at least, in the knowledge that in THIS case, it WAS the truth for all intents and purposes. She wouldn’t have to ever TRY to lie to the woman whose ability to see through such things was beyond impressive.

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

Forty-Five tense minutes after rescheduling the duty roster on the Flight Deck to account for her meeting, Dox arrived at Holodeck Two for the scheduled call. Even without checking with the bridge, the natural pilot, raised on ships, could feel the Hera drop out of warp and take up a fixed position relative to the motion of the galaxy for the call.

As she rounded the corner to the exterior door to the chamber, she adjusted her crimson uniform which she had been preening in at her office to ensure that it was to inspection levels of care. Her pips were freshly shined, as was her Starfleet badge. Her uniform changed for a freshly pressed one. She didn’t need too, but she always felt exceptionally nervous when speaking with the stern matriarch of her ancestral house.

Those nerves were minorly expanded upon when she saw Commander Rita Paris and Captain Enalia Telvan waiting outside for her arrival.

“Captain. Commander.” She said, coming to parade rest before her commanding officers.

The Trill captain greeted her with a wry grin. "Mnhei'sahe. Why politicians always insist on doing this sort of thing before breakfast is beyond me. You know her best, but we expect her to ask about more than the recent incident. We just want you to know that we trust you and though everyone is expecting you to meet with her, it's up to you what you do or don't tell her. We have complete faith in you. You've got this."

"Unless of course you would like to reinforce to the Senator that you are in point of fact a Starfleet officer with a chain of command, in which case we'd be happy to stand behind you and look imposing," Rita added, subtly tugging the hem of the anachronistic minidress she wore that somehow never seemed to be quite enough to completely cover her abundant assets. "Not that we don't have faith and confidence in you- but we also have your back."

At that, there was the hint of a genuine and warm smile on the young pilot's face as she nodded, looking again for a moment at the PaDD in her hand with the message before replying. "Currently, it's mid-day on Romulus. But the wording of the message request was specific to the time as on our clocks, so this is either a power play on her part, on the senate's part that she is enacting, or an emergency in which time was of the essence."

"Regardless, I think that in lieu of the flexing done in the message, a little flexing back is in order. As you say... reinforcement of who and what I am first and foremost." Dox continued, as she added. "However, on a personal level, I... would appreciate it. Thank you."

"Then we're with you the whole way," Enalia replied with a nod and a press of the holodeck controls which opened the large double doors. "We can begin when you're ready."

"Thank you." Nodding and stepping in, Dox tucked the PaDD into her back pocket and adjusted her uniform, making sure it was as ready for presentation as if she were meeting with the Admiralty again. As she did, she immediately felt just a bit embarrassed for it in front of her two commanding officers.
 
"I feel... foolish, but it still matters to me what she thinks. In spite of everything, I still care. Sometimes, I wish that I didn't, but I do." Dox said, admitting something that was extremely difficult for her to the two women who were extremely important to her as they set themselves up in the center of the black and gold, gridded chamber.

"She's family - of course you care. As bad as my mother was, do you think I didn't care what she thought? Just don't let her manipulate you." As they entered, the spotted woman tapped at the holodeck arch controls and loaded the prepared location data, replacing the black and gold grid chamber with that of Senator t'Rul's chosen meeting chamber - a study of some sort presumedly in her own manse. "Also, a small word of advice, if I may? Don't have anything in any of your pockets in calls with the Admiralty, Councilors, Senators... It hurts the creases of your uniform and makes it look like you're hiding something."

Blushing slightly, Dox pursed her lips and took out the PaDD. Waking back across to the arch of the chamber, she opened the small storage locker on the wall and placed the PaDD inside before coming back looking extremely embarrassed by the oversight as she re-adjusted her uniform. "Thank you, Captain."

"As for seeking approval from people who have kidnapped you in the past, we've all been there, Miss Dox. Don't beat yourself up about it- family tends to fall in a different category, as do our issues with them," Rita offered with a smile and a roll of the eyes. Her own relationship with the elder Commander Paris over the years had been tumultuous at best, but she had never given up hope that one day he might see her value and that he had raised an excellent officer. Given that he had died a hundred years ago, now it was absolutely never going to happen. But still, Rita understood that drive.

“Thank you. Seriously. For everything.” The anxious officer said as the computer chirruped from overhead. =^=Incoming private message. Security level Alpha priority, from Verelan t'Rul. Senator, Romulan Star Empire.=^=

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

The holographic form of Senator Verelan t'Rul materialized, along with a rather ornate and polished desk, a comfortable high-backed chair. and a circle of sage carpet- apparently the sum total of the holographic capability directed to the call. In her view, she materialized in a black room with a yellow grid pattern about it that looked suspiciously like a cell, with two taller officers flanking her, whom she recognized. After all, they had mind melded, and impressions of both women were quite strong in Mnhei'sahe's mind.

Taking it all in, eyes slowly rolling about to take in the spartan military display by the Federation, she was impressed. Tres militaristic- know thy audience. Settling her gaze over to the anachronism in the objectification uniform, then to the space pirate, those sharp blue eyes focused in on the redhead, whose body issues she could certainly understand, given the pair of Valkyries who accompanied her. Settling a professional close-lipped smile onto her face, the distinguished lady from the Ihhliae province greeted her granddaughter, as an emissary of the grand senate of Romulus.

"Lieutenant Commander Dox. Commander Paris. Captain Telvan. I was not expecting such participation in this communication, although of course your perspectives are welcome. Well," The old dame's eye lit up and she raised one eyebrow slightly as she smiled a bit saucily. "I hear you went on quite the adventure, and were saved through the heroic efforts of one tugboat captain who heroically fought to free his fleet, and they even saved a Federation starship in the bargain. Or so I hear."

Standing straight with her arms at her side, Dox offered a culturally respectful, light bow. "Jolan'tru, Senator t'Rul. Yes, the Hera and three Romulan Warbirds were pulled into an artificially generated singularity. Without the aid and planning of Garnak, the commander of the Freight Eagle 7X9-V, all four ships would have been lost."

"Captain Telvan and Commander Paris were present on the other side of the singularity and can speak first hand to the efforts of the ranking officer in charge of the Warbirds, Commander t'Rekt, and her invaluable service towards the goal of ensuring the survival of the crews of her ships," Dox concluded, summarizing the information that was now public knowledge of the incident.

The smile faded a bit, and the sharp-eyed and pointy-eared matron steeled her gaze. "There is considerable talk about why the Federation is working so hard to paint the Star Empire in such a flattering light. Theories and conspiracies abound. As the ranking officers who can speak to the invaluable service of the crews and her ships, what would be your response to the questions that abound on Romulus at this hour?"

Enalia expected such a question so she smiled politely and replied. "With the aid that they rendered us, my personal honor demanded that we do all we could to honor and aid them both in the Federation and in their return home to their families and Empire."

The aged senator offered a half-lidded eye to the captain, then cast an inquisitive glance toward the throwback. "Anything to add, Commander? Really, the magnanimosity of Starfleet is grandiose indeed, and it has a great... number... of factions putting forth theories. Any insight would be helpful."

The curious commander cocked an eyebrow of her own, nodding. "The events unfolded as indicated. All parties logs confirm it, so if the Federation chose to honor the Romulan participants, whom we appreciate for their assistance, why should we object to them being hailed as our saviors? What was exemplary was that their cooperation saved us all. I think that's the most important point in all of this, because as this showed, peaceful cooperation can achieve great things. We're here today because of it."

That answer actually took the Deihu aback for a second, as the earnest sincerity came through. She honestly believes that. Rather amazing naivete for someone in her position. "I see that someone read their Federation charter this morning. So, as the Kolaes to this particular situation, given your remarkably unlikely proximity to the situation... although you say you were not onboard at the time?"

With the attention focused back at her, Dox's stomach tightened even further as she considered the direction of the conversation, and realized that in mentioning that she was NOT on the Hera during the incident, it would eventually lead to her Grandmother questioning where she HAD been. That was a line of questioning that might lead to the birth of her children. 

While Verelan knew that Mona had been pregnant thanks to their mind meld, Dox had taken great care to keep that fact a secret during the month of her captivity on Verelan's Warbird and wanted to keep the information of their recent births just as secret. But she was also a terrible liar, so it was her goal to make sure the conversation stayed on point. 

"That is correct, Senator. I was on the other side of the singularity during the incident, but I can attest to the events as described in the official reports, and what is being said here as true. As for the value of peaceful cooperation, I agree with Commander Paris wholeheartedly. After all, peaceful cooperation is also why you and I can stand here and speak our minds freely."

While her words were general, their meaning was specific and Dox hoped that her grandmother understood. Verelan may have dismissed Rita Paris' words as naive, but Dox wanted her grandmother to remember that it was that naivete that made it possible for her embattled grandmother and her Vulcan superior to enter, and free, the elder Romulan Senator's mind. That naivete that enabled Mnhei'sahe to extend the trust to her grandmother in spite of everything. 

That philosophy didn't just save the ships from that singularity. It saved Verelan's mind from Rendal's machinations. 

"I see. So you have nothing to add to the official report which might add clarity?" The silver-haired Romulan statesman sat back, bringing up her hands to emphasize her point, her long and elegant fingers weaving in the air as she expanded on her point and drove home her reason for the call. "You see, there are a great number of theories and possibilities. None of them are particularly positive, nor do they paint the Federation well. I would strongly suspect that the crews returning home will face some rather aggressive questioning. I had hoped to perhaps quell some of those rumors and possibly shine a light of truth onto the matter. But it seems there is no deeper truth than the Federation's usual message of benevolent friendship through conformity to their ideals."

The unspoken translation of that statement was that Deihu t'Rul expected the crews to be tortured by the Tal'Shiar until they broke, and ideally she was seeking some maneuvering room for them. But with the Starfleet officers standing by the official position, she wasn't going to make any headway. At this, she looked resigned. A good politician knew when she had lost, after all.

Recognizing the resigned look on the Senator's face, Enalia decided to offer up a bit more of a boon. "We may be able to offer up our sensor logs during the event. I'm sure Starfleet will strip out certain elements, which your own people will easily be able to reconstruct. However, from the perspective of the Hera, it should confirm many of the details of the reports when combined with the logs and sensor data from the four vessels returning to you."

Looking at Enalia for a moment, then back to Rita, then back to her Grandmother, Dox knew she was failing. Failing as both a Starfleet officer and as a voice FOR Starfleet that would be heard in the Senate of her estranged homeworld. For a moment, she cast her eyes down, having picked up on what Verelan was suggesting with the words she hadn’t said.

After a brief instant, she took a breath. The Romulan Starfleet officer wasn’t sure if she was being manipulated. She didn’t know if she was doing the right thing, but in her heart, she had to at least try. If she failed, she might destroy not just the tenuous link that she had been working to maintain with her grandmother, but also the link Starfleet was establishing through her to the Romulan Star Empire. And worse, the brave Romulans that risked everything by trusting Rita and Enalia could be lost.

“Senator. I would speak, if I may.” She said, holding her head up high and standing as straight and tall as she could. No small feat flanked by her statuesque Captain and First Officer. “The most important details in all of this… the details not mentioned in the official reports, for reasons I will elaborate upon in a moment… is the involvement of Dalia Rendal. More importantly, the facts collected from talking with the crews of the three Warbirds and Captain Garnak. Those facts told us that the skeleton crews were assembled hastily from remote colonies and stations, too remote within the Star Empire to be aware of Rendal’s discommendation.”

“They had every reason to believe they were on a classified mission for the Senate, in service to their home and their Imperium.” Dox said, talking a little bit more confidently. “They obeyed their orders and performed their assigned tasks with honor, unaware that the source of those orders was a woman without honor. Acting WITHOUT the approval or backing of the Hearthworlds.”

“It was decided to omit that information from the media account, as it could have reflected poorly upon the Star Empire. But also, because it was our personal desire to act in the best interests of those officers that risked everything to do what they knew was right. Commander t’Rekt’s primary goal, along with Garnak’s, was purely and simply to protect the Romulan citizens whose lives had been entrusted to them. I can attest to this personally from my own discussions with all involved, and an examination of the logs and records here on the Hera.”

There it was, and the canny old politico smiled. The piece of the puzzle she needed announced over a monitored channel, which would cause ripples she could use, confusion she could work between, dissent that would foment rebellion. "I see. That was indeed not a part of the official reports in the Federation's new coverage, which most certainly would have caused considerable problems in the Imperium. Likely a diplomatic incident as well... as opposed to the odd handling of the situation that has so many scurrying to find some kernel of truth in the presentation. I see... Rendal once again operating on her own, pursuing her own private agenda with utilizing the resources of the Star Empire for her own personal gain. That does make the situation seem considerably clearer."

The knot in the gut of the lowest ranking woman in the room, literally or virtually, loosened ever so slightly, though her face and body language betrayed nothing of her anxiety as Dox was getting ever so slightly better at masking her own emotions when needed. It was a skill that, for better or for worse, was fostered and grown ever time she communicated with her authoritarian grandmother.

"Then I am pleased that we could provide you with the clarity you required, Deihu," Dox replied, using the Romulan term for Senator as a sign of respect. 

"So, are there any other questions the Imperial Senate would care to send our way, or are we done here, Deihu t'Rul?" Rita Paris asked with a perfunctory smile. On the other end of the call, Verelan noted the ploy. Protective, using directness to end the confrontation. Castling, the knight exchanging the rook, interposing. Let's see how this plays.

"There is one last point of business to discuss," the senior senator said with a smile, then fixed her gaze on Mnhei'sahe Dox. "We would like to arrange a visit to Romulus for the Kolaes who has represented the Senate. A great number of the senators would like to meet with the personage representing them to the Federation, as well as the current ambassador to the Federation."

Check.

At this point, in spite of her best effort, there was no way for Dox to conceal that blood rushing from her face as her skin blanched ever so slightly. But she maintained her still and calm facade throughout in spite of her insides going into panic mode as she froze for a brief instant. 

Understanding many of the implications of the invitation, Enalia chose now to once more interject. "As Kolaes Dox's commanding officer, I first want to extend my appreciation and gratitude for such an offer. It is indeed an honor. However, Starfleet would insist on the USS Hera escorting her to the visit and would it not be problematic for an intel vessel like ours to be seen above the hearthworld?"

"Arriving under a flag of diplomacy would alleviate any such concerns, of course, Captain Telvan." The reply was succinct, brief, and to the point.

Sacrifice the queen? Check.

"It certainly is a generous offer," Paris interceded, seeing how they were being maneuvered, and promptly plotting an escape course. "Which is certainly something that will be discussed by our superiors at Starfleet Command, Senator. In the meanwhile, we are honored to have such an offer extended, and we look forward to discussing it further through official channels."

The knight moves again, flanked by the pawns of infrastructure. Well played, amateur.

"Of course, Commander. We would not presume that you could act with such autonomy within the structured order of Starfleet. The subject will be discussed and debated and we shall see what shall come of it. In the meanwhile..." A hint of the grandmother she knew peeked through, and a bit of genuine warmth slipped into the woman's voice. "It is good to see you, Mnhei'sahe Dox."

As with everything, Verelan always said multiple things with each statement. It was all but a proverb on Romulus that a word with only one meaning was useless, and the grandam knew that better than most. Mnhei'sahe Dox, however, was new to the games her people played so wel. Still she felt very much like a drowning child, there before the silver-haired matriarch of her family. The woman she feared and craved the approval of, in seemingly equal measure. But even still, she wasn't oblivious to the games being played... and didn't have to like her place on the proverbial game board.

"I am glad to see you again as well, noble Deihu. May the Elements conspire to allow it again." Replying, Dox kept her words brief, but specific, trying to not say anything that could be used against her grandmother in the Senate, or herself with Starfleet. In such communications, saying the word 'grandmother' could be too dangerous for too many people, regardless of how known that fact was all around.

if the Senator had a reply, it was lost to the symbol of the Romulan Star Empire, the void black wings against the greenlit hue of the galaxy, with Romulus and Remus clutched in her talons.

"The audience appears to be over. Computer, end transmission, please, and secure all comms, perform a level 5 through 1 diagnostic on any system associated with this process to scrub them down, and report all findings through data analysis. Thank you. So," Paris placed her hand on the shoulder of the rambunctious Romulan redhead. "You alright, Miss Dox?"

For a moment, Dox was silent as she stood in the center of the room between Rita and Enala, feeling impossibly small. "I'll be fine. I just need to get some breakfast. I have some time before beginning of my duty shift to write my official report for Starfleet. Review everything. I'll... be fine. Thank you."

It was an attempt at strength, but in spite of her steady face and calm words Rita could feel Dox shuddering ever so slightly. "I just... need a little time. I'll be fine."

"Stay here," Paris suggested, which in her case was an order. "Have breakfast, take a run, write that report, complete with your impressions and any analysis you think may be relevant. Bring in Mrs. Dox to analyze the conversation objectively then collaboratively with you. Give the morning to this, Lieutenant Commander. Process, review, get some perspective and give a comprehensive report, if you will. If more time is needed, inform us and press on. But finish with a presentation to the Captain of the report you plan to file with Starfleet and the Federation."

"Understood?" Paris patted the young officer on the shoulder. "We're here for any input you need, and I believe the Captain will be making some recommendations to Starfleet Command."

"I was going to recommend we get some breakfast together in the captain's galley first. All of our morning routines were disrupted so we might as well make it a working breakfast, right?" the Trill woman asked, stretching and yawning as she headed to the holodeck arch to review the log data. "Aiva isn't the best cook yet, but she's gotten good at quite a few things. Just stay away from the oatmeal - I think she's adding protein powder to it."

Standing there, Dox allowed a slightly forced smile to crack it's way out. Both women were offering help in different ways. It was a study in perspectives and seemed to be a microcosm of the dilemma the young Lieutenant Commander found herself in.

She had divorced herself from the majority of her obligations with the Artans and was trying to focus on her new family and her career in Starfleet. But here she was, feeling pulled in all directions again. Enalia's offer was one of pure friendship. Emotional support and bonding where she might gain strength. It was what she wanted to do. To lean on her friends and ask them what she should do when she felt so lost.

But Rita addressed her not just as a friend or even a sister, but as an officer first and foremost. She suggested a path to step back and try and take a measure of control over a seemingly impossible situation through structure, reason, and routine. Ironically, it was logic as a candle in the dark. Some sense of control over her own course was the one thing that the golden-clad Commander knew that her Romulan subordinate needed the most in the moment.

She knew both women were there to support her and offer her all the help she needed. But as Dox looked at them both, she realized that what she wanted and what she needed were different things, and she made her choice.

"Thank you, Captain. I appreciate the offer... I really do... but I think that I need to start on that presentation while it's fresh. I need to... work this out." Dox said confidently. "I will have my presentation and personal recommendations prepared by end of shift."

"After which... I would not object to a... what's the phrase... a raincheck?" Dox finished with a much more true smile.

"The offer is always there for both of you," Enalia replied with a genuine smile of her own and a fresh PaDD in hand. "Just remember to take a break and actually eat some breakfast, ok? Thinking works best when you've eaten the first meal of the day."

"I'll take you up on that breakfast in your mess, Captain. C'mon, let's leave Miss Dox to it. I've got some ideas I want to run past you anyway..." As she spoke, the first officer was steering the captain off the Holodeck. After all, breakfast sounded good, and it accomplished a number of things all at once. not the least of which was to offer the young Romulan officer time to work through the complex situation into which she had found herself thrust.

"Thank you, Captain. Commander. I'll report back as soon as I'm complete." Dox said as Rita and Enalia left the holodeck, leaving her to her work.

As the doors hissed shut, the facade and posture of the Romulan Flight Chief collapsed. Her shoulders dropped and her head sank as she fought off a wave of panic that began to settle in now that she could let herself feel the weight of what had just occured.

Taking a moment, she sat down on the deck, putting her arms around her knees like she did as a child, sitting in her tiny compartment on the smuggling ship, the Forager, that she had grown up on. Sitting here, on the holodeck, she felt exactly as small and completely as powerless as she had felt as that lonely, damaged child so many years ago.

After a moment of what felt like an almost impossible silence, she took a breath and stood back on her feet and stepped over to the far, left wall. Rubbing her tired eyes, she let out a long sigh. "Computer. Please generate a standard, mid-sized galley station here. One pot of brhon caelis coffee. Hot. No Cream. One mug, standard. And please replicate a bowl of... reference my personal replicator files. Access code 795-X9E."

Gesturing to the area in front of her where she wanted the table to appear, she continued. "Please replicate a bowl of... Gonadie breakfast scramble... three. Thank you."

After a second, the computer replied as the table materialized with a shimmer and the food and coffee were replicated in place. =^=You're welcome, Lieutenant Commander Dox.=^=

As always, the computer replied personally and the Romulan pilot smiled as she poured herself a cup of coffee and took a long sip before setting the mug back down and picked up the bowl of scrambled eggs and potatoes in a cheese sauce that Mona had designed for when her anxiety-driven bond-mate needed to eat quickly.

Turning back towards the center of the room, Dox took a bite of her breakfast as her face now showed focus again. She remembered that last image as her grandmother ended the transmission. The sigil of the Star Empire. The great bird Al'thindor, with the Hearthworlds in its talons. It was not how she usually ended her holographic conversations, and that had stuck in the back of Dox's brain.

Everything Verelan t'Rul said had meaning. She did not choose her words casually, and each word conveyed more than it seemed. It was a lesson the learned Senator did her best to teach her granddaughter during the few, short weeks on that Warbird all those months ago. As such, the images she chose to show must also have meanings and those meanings had been tugging at the back of Dox's mind since the transmission ended.

It could have been her way of indicating that this proposed visit to Romulus was being pushed on her by the senate. It could mean that she should beware of the mentioned Romulan Ambassador. After all, Dox has become an ambassador of a sort, and that position might be a threat to others already in power. Romulan politics were, after all, a dangerous business.

But Verelan was an ambitious woman who still had designs on her granddaughter's future, and replacing the Romulan ambassador might by the silver-haired politico's new ambition for her granddaughter. However, the more disturbing truth could have been that showing Dox that sigil at the end could have been the grandam's way of telling her wayward heir... you are still my granddaughter. You will fulfill your promise to return.

You are still mine.

Worse yet, it could mean all of that and more. There was no way for Mnhei'sahe to know, but she could still plan and study. Prepare for the eventualities and take nothing for granted. 

"Computer..." she said, setting her empty bowl down, taking another sip of coffee, then stepping back towards the center of the room to figure out what her next move in this chess game would be. "Please replay the previous communication..."

"...from the beginning."

Stepping up to the entrance to Holodeck two, it was fairly early in the morning, but Jaeih Dox had been up for hours and was curious as to why her daughter had called for her to meet her there.

In most matters, Lieutenant Commander Mnhei'sahe Dox was a steady and predictable officer. On duty, she was controlled, proper, and professional. Considering Jaeih's own checkered history with the Romulan military and the Tal'Shiar, the former Commander and Intel officer was quite proud of how her daughter comported herself on duty.

Which made the sight she saw when she stepped into the active Holodeck quite troubling.

There, in the center of the chamber, stood her daughter looking more than a little haggard. Her hair was a bit disheveled and her uniform tunic was hanging open at the top. Standing in front of Mnhei’sahe was what Jaeih assumed from the locale, was a hologram of Verelan t’Rul. Mnhei’sahe’s Father’s Mother. Jaeih’s former supervisor in the Tal’Shiar.

Momentarily unaware that the door had opened, Mnhei’sahe was clearly exhausted and turned with a jerk towards her mother, who was stepping towards her. As the door hissed closed, the anxious officer refastened her uniform top and ran her fingers through her hair slightly, inadvertently making it a little more messy.

For the overwhelming majority other life, Jaeih had been more a commander than a mother to her emotionally challenged daughter, but the stern woman was making every attempt she could to change that now. Now, her daughter was a new mother herself and they had made significant strides towards repairing their damaged relationship. As such, she stepped over almost absentmindedly and shook her head.

“Tsk… no.” Jaeih said, reaching over and running her fingers through Mnhei’sahe’s hair to try and bring the unruly curls back under control. “There… that should be… better.”

Meeting Mnhei’sahe’s somewhat wide-eyed look of surprise at the moment of motherly affection, Jaeih tried to redirect to a more predictable pattern by adjusting her daughter’s collar and tugging her uniform. “There. Better.”

“So…” Jaeih said, realizing how awkward the moment had become, “I assume from this that you’ve had another call from the noble Senator from the Hearthworlds?”

“Stepping back a little, Mnhei’sahe sighed and her shoulders sunk slightly more. “Ie. We received the… summons at 0330 this morning for a call an hour later. Apparently, it couldn’t wait.”

While the young Lieutenant Commander allowed a minor bit of sarcasm out, her mother replied matter-of-factly. “Yes, that would be Verelan’s style as I remember it. An observation I’m sure you can attest to from your time with her as well. It’s a simple enough power play. Make sure the other party is doing things on her schedule to establish dominance. Make their opponent wait. Make their opponent leap.”

“I’m not her opponent.” Mnhei’sahe said with a light scowl.

“THIS is, Mnhei’sahe. Make no mistake about it.” Jaeih said, pointing firmly at her daughter’s Starfleet commbadge with narrowed eyes. “Your loyalty to Starfleet. Your position on the Hera. THIS!”

A bit more forcefully, Jaeih grabbed her daughter’s right arm and pulled up the sleeve to show off the black metal band on her wrist. Her Romulan ceremonial wedding bracelet. “Everything about you that exists as the things that stop you from fulfilling her desires for you... are her opponents”

Jerking her arm out of her mother’s hand, Mnhei’sahe bit her bottom lip and tried to not let herself become angry, but that old bitterness between the two women was beginning to roil once again. “Enough, Mother. Point taken.”

“I… apologize, Mnehi’sahe.” Jaeih said, stepping back and realizing she had overstepped her bounds with her daughter. “My… objectivity is… tainted where Verelan is concerned.”

“That said, what I said was an important truth you must remember. She wants you. Not HERE on the Hera, but on Romulus, under her wing. In her own way, she believes it as what is best for you and for the Star Empire. But it is a need to possess, all the same. These.. games she plays, she plays better than any of our people I’ve ever known. FAR beyond my own level.” Jaeih said, adjusting her own uniform. “But.. you called me. Please, how can I help you.”

Pacing slightly, Mnhei’sahe gestured to her mother to follow her away from the center of the chamber. “Commander Paris and Captain Telvan accompanied me this time for the call. It was not a long one, but it was… eventful.”

Directing her mother’s attention to the center of the Holodeck, Mnhei’sahe instructed the computer to replay the events of the morning for her mother’s review. With deeply focused attention, Jaeih watched the verbal chess game between the granddam of the Imperial Senate and the trio of Starfleet officers for the complete duration of the recording up until Rita Paris ending the communication.

“Well… I can see why you are… distressed, Mnhei’sahe. That was quite the discussion.” Jaeih said flatly, her arms folded behind her back as she pondered what she had just seen. “And what you require from me is?”

“Perspective.” the redheaded pilot replied with the slightest hint of desperation in her voice. “You know her far better than I do. You know how this game is played and, frankly, I do not. I can only guess at the depth of everything that was said there, and the more I do, the more possible angles I see. The more ways I can interpret what she might have meant in… everything.”

“Tell me what you saw, then. Considering that it is 0830 hours and this concluded at 0500 hours, I can assume you have watched this at least 5, if not 6 times and tried absorbing it from every angle. Pausing? Replaying? Stepping up close to look at her every facial tic and expression?” Jaeih said, turning to look at Mnhei’sahe with a raised eyebrow. “So tell me. Succinctly. What did you see. Summarize it for me.”

With narrowed eyes, Mnhei’sahe took a sharp breath in. “She’s trying to get me back on Romulus. She either wants to make another pitch for me to continue studying with her to take over her seat…”

“Or?” Jaeih interjected, emphasizing the other option she sensed was coming to encourage Mnhei’sahe to dig deeper.

“Or… her mention of the Romulan Ambassador might be an indication that I may need to be wary of the existing ambassador, or that she may be now thinking that if I can fill that role, she can still have a hand on me while allowing me the illusion of freedom.”

Beginning to walk slowly around her daughter with a judgmental expression, Jaeih was acting very much like the stern, authoritarian who had raised Mnhei’sahe. Not the more emotionally open mother she had been trying to become. “All of that may well be true. She would have to move a number of pieces to net you a status as a full ambassador, which would require you studying at the Academy of the Great Art ON Romulus. But I can see her leaning into that direction with you. She could promise you what you crave more than anything else that way.”

“Which is?” Mnhei’sahe replied.

There was no verbal reply. Instead, the stern Romulan matriarch simply stopped and looked directly at her daughter with a raised eyebrow, expecting the answer herself.

“Belonging.” Mnhei’sahe said with a tone of bitterness in her voice. “Belonging… and acceptance from her. From a family.”

“Indeed.” Jaeih said as she continued circling her daughter. “It is an angle she had already been preparing you for by naming you her chosen representative between her and the reunification colonists. And it is a role you accepted with enthusiasm, which told her it was a route worth exploiting.”

Now Mnhei’sahe was clenching her fists behind her back as her mother spoke, but she bit her tongue. She asked for exactly this and she needed to listen, even if she didn’t like what she was hearing.

“But it is only a part of what she was working towards in that conversation. What else did you observe?” Jaeih pressed.

“The sigil at the end. The transmission ended with the sigil of the Star Empire.” Mnhei’sahe added, trying to get over her attitude and focus on her mother’s questions. After all, were the exact same questions being asked the exact same way coming from Rita, Dox realized she wouldn’t be feeling the way she was now.

“In our past transmissions, when the hologram ended, it just… ended.” Mnhei’sahe continued, a bit more focused as calm came with it. “That had to mean something. Everything has a meaning. Usually more than one.”

“Very good. Continue. Keep going.” Jaeih said, a bit more encouragingly. She knew this was difficult for both of them, but it was vitally important. Her daughter had been thrown in the very deep end of a world Jaeih had tried to shelter Mnhei’sahe from for years.

“My initial thoughts were that she was indicating that, perhaps, the Senate might be pushing for this… visit. In getting me to Romulus. It could also be a reminder of her intentions for me.” Mnhei’sahe said, with a bit of uncertainty in her voice.

“It is possible that it was a mistake to allow Enalia and Commander Paris to join you in this meeting.” Jaeih replied, stopping to think. “It may have left Verelan feeling as if her power over you was being challenged. But if I had to make an assumption, I would say the appearance of the sigil of our people was used to reinforce your relationship. To remind you of your position and the influence she and the senate have over you that you may not even be aware of.”

“She doesn’t control me, Mother!” Mnhei’sahe shouted, defensively, turning to face Jaeih.

“Are you certain of that, KOLAES DOX!” Jaeih shouted back, repeating the Romulan title of ‘Emissary’ that she had been addressed as during the message. “What did I tell you on that ship, when we were BOTH prisoners? Cultural indoctrination is STILL Indoctrination. Or do you think you were given a TITLE just for them to make their paperwork easier?”

“I know it’s a power play, Mother! I know it’s her flexing to see how far I’ll bend.” Mnhei’sahe said, trying to calm herself back down, and failing. “It’s also her way to try and plant seeds of doubt with Starfleet and with the Captain. Try to make THEM question my loyalties. HOW MANY TIMES DO I NEED TO PROVE MYSELF!?”

“EVERY TIME, MNHEI’SAHE!!! Every time! Do not forget, we are Romulan. Our people have been in conflict with the Federation since before there WAS a Federation, and that will ALWAYS come with a degree of distrust.” Jaeih snapped back before bringing her own voice back down and taking a few breaths.

“Not here. We both know Commander Paris and Enalia trust you with their lives. By the Elements, they trust ME! But STARFLEET? The admirals back on Earth who only know our people as the abstract villains of their lore? They read a report where a Lieutenant Commander is being given an official title by the Senate of the Romulan Star Empire and you KNOW they are questioning if you are truly loyal.” Jaeih said calmly once more.

“I do not say this to anger you, Mnhei’sahe. But to REMIND you to be careful. Verelan… I knew her since I was still in the Academy. She recruited me young into service. Nobody alive knows how far she will go to get what she wants, and she wants YOU, Mnhei’sahe. She wants you to WANT to go to her. To forsake Starfleet and the life you’ve built. And make no mistake that she will find ways… subtle ways… Romulan ways… to take this life from you one chip at a time until you have only the Hearthworld to turn to. Only her and one of the lives she is designing for you.”

“Now, when I say ‘one of the lives’ and I mean it.” Jaeih added. “Verelan will not place all of her hopes on one single path for you. Right now, she is building a foundation for you to take baby steps towards her goal. She is using diplomacy. She is using your desire to see reunification made reality. But she will only take small steps for so long until she starts reaching for more of you.”

“If Starfleet decides to allow this meeting to happen, I cannot go with you.” Jaeih said, her tone returning to that of a worried mother. “My name was written and burned three times upon the floor of the senate. There is no scenario where I can go there and not be put to death for my crimes. So I must give you everything I know, daughter. You must be prepared to play this game.”

“I understand that, Mother. I do.” Mnhei’sahe said as her shoulders dropped a bit. “But I still need to make an official report to the Captain, including my personal recommendations here, but I don’t know what to say.”

“Yes, you do, Mnhei’sahe.” Jaeih said, raising an eyebrow. “You’re just still afraid to say it.”

“That sigil…” Dox replied, her eyes cast down as she let out a breath. “It was a warning. Yes, she will try to influence me. Try to convince me to stay. Show me what my life could be. But… it is also a warning. Her suggestion that the Hera fly under a flag of Diplomacy means that if that diplomacy fails… and if I refuse whatever is to be offered, then the Senate will take that as an act of aggression. If we go there, the Hera will be put at risk. Everyone will be. Because of me.”

“Yes. They will try and position it so that it will appear that we are the aggressors. Perhaps it will by my presence here that they will use as an excuse. Perhaps it will be Enalia’s incursion and attack on a Tal’Shiar facility to rescue you that will be the excuse. But you are correct. That sigil was a warning. A warning and a reminder.”

“A reminder that she is a Senator first and my grandmother second.” Mnhei’sahe said, despondently. “It’s never easy, is it, Mother.”

Reaching over, Jaeih put her hand on her daughter’s chin and lifted Mnhei’sahe’s face up to meet her gaze. “No. No, it is not.”

“There will be time later to feel what you are feeling.” Jaeih was a mother again for a moment as she looked deep into her daughter’s eyes. “Tonight when you return to your quarters, you may tell Mona of the turmoil in that heart of yours too open for your burdens. Cry. Rage. Scream to the elements or Al’thindor. Then, you may let it all out then, Mnhei’sahe.”

“But now, I must task you with something I know you know how to do. Now, you remember what it is to be Romulan. What you feel… that passion threatening to devour you from the inside is our power, Mnhei’sahe. Claim it. Use it.” Jaeih leaned in close as she spoke, her voice calm but strong.

“When you eventually stand before her and the senate, remember to guard your heart well. Reveal nothing. Give nothing. Absorb what they say, and what they do not say. See what they do and do not do. Every gesture will be a statement. Every gaze a declaration.” Stepping back, the former Intel operative was as warm as she could be, considering her words. “I tried to spare you from that. From the burden that is being of the Declared. I did not want you to ever have to fly beneath the raptor’s wing. But this is where we are. So if you wish to live free from that, you must learn to embrace it. You must learn to to harness your passion but not reveal it. You must learn to control the meanings of your words. You must learn to be a stone.”

“I understand.” Mnhei’sahe said, looking at her mother and realizing just how much this moment felt like those first meetings with her Grandmother all those months ago. In her mother’s eyes, she could see how similar she was to Verelan in her own way.

“Good. Then your first lesson has already begun. Now, we have a presentation to prepare, little one. Let us begin again.” Jeaih said, stepping back from the center of the room. “Play the recording again. But this time, you will tell me everything you see…”

“And everything… you do NOT see. Let us begin.”

Standing in the dimly lit nursery of her expanded family crew quarters, Lieutenant Commander Mnhei’sahe Dox watched her children sleep.

In the large, rounded nest-like crib, all three girls slept clustered tightly together. Golden feathered Amihan had a slightly melodious little snore that resonated with the rhythmic thrumming all three made in unison. Little blue and green plumed Tala was curled up in a ball, nuzzled up to her golden sister, with her tiny hand wrapped around Ami’s arm. Hlai’vana, with her head of black and red feathers, draped herself halfway across the other two, and occasionally let out a horky snore that made their Romulan mother smile lightly.

It was amazing to Mnhei’sahe just how much they looked like their birth mother. Her Miradonian bond-mate, Mona Gonadie. As a matter of generally accepted fact, when a Vulcan or a Romulan mated with another species, what you tended to end up with, was almost exclusively very Vulcan or Romulan children. Their DNA was considered quite pervasive in pairings, tending to biologically dominate any children produced. But not here.

Here, all three children had lighter bones. Varying degrees of feather coverage instead of hair, and pronounced, Avian features with angled, almond-shaped eyes and pronounced, curved in noses like Mona. Their blood was green and their ears were pointed like Mnhei’sahe’s, but that was it as far as visible cues went. In truth, they almost looked like physical representations of some of the bird-themed gods of Romulus’s ancient past. Tiny little Al’thindor’s, each one.

Perhaps that was due to the blessings the goddess Hera bestowed upon them. Perhaps Miradonian DNA was one of the rare few that was MORE aggressive than Romulan. But Mnhei’sahe didn’t care. As she watched them slumber, they were the single most beautiful, perfect things she had ever seen. And somehow, they were hers.

That thought put a shot through her stomach that tightened the knot that had been tensing her up since oh three-thirty hours that morning. They might be Miradonian, but they were also Romulan. They were HER children, which made them a part of house Rul within the Star Empire. And the house Rul was what occupied her thoughts for most of the day.

That day began with a summons to speak with Mnhei’sahe’s grandmother that arrived at oh three-thirty hours in the morning. And the holographic call itself prompted by the Hera’s most recent mission that left them collaborating with several Romulan ships, to escape a strange nether realm called the Undrheim, was only an hour after that. So with only a few hours of sleep, the exhausted pilot, along with her Captain and First Officer, was forced to debate with the grandam of the Romulan Senate over the fate of those Romulans.

And eventually, her own fate.

As the holographic conversation ended, an official request for a physical audience had been made. An audience for Mnhei’sahe herself, as the chosen voice of her Grandmother in discussions with Romulan reunification colonies. An audience that the conflicted Romulan pilot knew was inevitable and had been dreading. Now, there was no longer any waiting or wondering. The official request was out there and had to be addressed.

Now, the decision was going to be put to the Admirals and Diplomats to ponder and discuss at Starfleet and all Dox could do was wait and see what others had to say about her own future.

But, as Mnhei’sahe stepped quietly out of the sleeping children’s chamber and headed back to the main living area of her shared family quarters, she knew that she had a more important family member that she had to talk to about all of it. Her wife and bond-mate, Mona.

Due to her unusual schedule during the day, she had spent most of that day dealing with this proverbial bombshell while Ensign Jessica MacNielle took care of her department. After the meeting, she talked with her mother as she was an expert on not just Verelan t’Rul, but on Romulan Politics. Then she spent a few hours preparing her official report to the Captain. Having now made that report, she had been relieved of duty for the day a little earlier than usual to allow her to catch up on her much-needed rest.

That meant she made it back to their shared quarters a good bit earlier than Mona, who had been on duty in her R&D Department all day, with very limited information about what had been going on with her wife. So Mnhei’sahe was expecting an emotional meeting once Mona got home.

And, as the red-headed Romulan pilot prepared a pot of Miradonian Sunset Tea made with the cova root they had brought back with them that she had been learning how to brew on their stovetop, instead of the replicator, the door to their quarters wooshed open only two minutes after the end of Mona’s shift. Clearly, the brilliantly plumed, avian inventor had made all haste in getting home.

With a flutter of feathers, Mona rushed to Dox's side and wrapped her arms around her. "I got home as quickly as I could. Sorry I didn't take off from work early, but I wanted to make sure the work on Daycare One was on schedule. After all, if what Jaeih says does come to pass..."

"No, no. You didn't need to take off early. It's fine. I'm okay." Mnhei'sahe replied. But the pure fact that they were touching meant that even without her enhanced senses to tell her that her wife was anything but fine, their empathic bond filled Mona in.

At that exact moment, while her wife's presence was calming her turbulent emotions, Mnhei'sahe was still a swirling mass of conflicting feelings and dark thoughts. The specifics of those thoughts weren't coming through clearly as Mnhei'sahe was subconsciously closing herself off, but the feelings, which Mona had been able to feel from a system away while she was pregnant, were still clear to her through their deep bond.

"I don't need my eyes or our bond to know when you're lying, my Minay," the brightly plumed avian replied as she squeezed Dox tighter and did her best to fill her wife with as much positive energy as she could. "I know it's not fine and I know you're not ok. My ears are nowhere near as good as yours and even I can hear that in your voice."

She then released the hug enough to be able to look into her lover's eyes. "But we'll get through it together, ok? We're family. We can do anything together."

"I know... I do." Mnhei'sahe said, letting out a sigh that came along with a massive release of tension in her muscles, as she finally let her grip on the tension she had been feeling all day loosen slightly. 'But... I don't know what to do about... everything that's happened."

Running a finger across Mona's brilliant, multicolored feathers on the side of her bond-mates head, Mnhei'sahe spoke gently. "So... I assumed my mother would tell you something of what's been going on. What did she say?"

"She told me that you've been asked to go to ch'Rihan and that you two went over the call several more times together. I pulled up the call on one of my modified emitters so I could see her properly and looked over it as well..." Mona sheepishly admitted, her vibrant eyes falling slightly as she ran a hand through the plumage over one of her ear holes in a similar fashion to Mnhei'sahe. "And either she's the smoothest liar in the universe... Or everything she said was true."

"Lies only exist where there is doubt." Mnhei'sahe said as she stepped over to pour the tea that she hoped she had brewed properly. Bringing a cup back to Mona, her shoulders slumped a bit as they made their way to the seating area. She always appreciated that Mona almost never said 'Romulus' or 'Romulan', knowing that those words still made her a bit uncomfortable. As such, Mona almost exclusively used the planet's native name of 'ch'Rihan' and the unaltered name for her people, 'Rihannsu'. It was a little thing that Mnhei'sahe deeply appreciated.

Flumping down in one of the more standard, plush chairs that still had an opening in the lower back for tails, as did all the chairs in their shared spaces, she leaned over and put her cup on the table as she continued. "At least, that's one of the very many lessons Mother drilled into my head this morning."

"But... everything she says... almost everything she has ever said to me seems loaded with hidden meanings and multiple truths. She doesn't need to lie if the truth is obscured in symbolism and verbal chess." Mnhei'sahe said as she hung her head a bit. "I've never been particularly good at that game. But... it became more and more clear that there's a lot going on behind the scenes on Romulus. And she may have convinced the Senate of the value of... acquiring me, now."

Mona nodded solemnly as she sat down and settled her tail feathers into the seat. Taking a moment to savor her tea, she nodded once more, this time in contentment and approval at a cuppa well brewed. "She's a predator. A hunter. A bird of prey. Yet she is also family. This is a difficult concept and a rare thing on Miradon. When one bonds to a hunter or one that is imprisoned they often make the choice to dedicate themselves to the church."

"In the wider galaxy... Things are not so easy." With another sip of her tea, Mona looked up to her bond-mate. "What conclusions have you come to, then? I'm just a simple bird and I'm not that good at politics, so I know I missed every meaning."

Fidgeting with her own cup, which she had yet to take a sip of out of anxiety, Mnhei'sahe nodded a bit as she responded, watching the ripples form in her tea from her movements. "Well... I'm not... well suited to church."

"I made a presentation to the Captain before coming home. Summarized my thoughts and concerns and what mother and I worked out." Mnhei'sahe said, still looking down as she spoke. "I think Hu'nanov... pardon... Grandmother and the senate, either in concert or separately, see what happened to the ship during that last encounter with Rendal as an opportunity. By playing our hand the way Starfleet did, reinforcing the two governments working together, I think they are taking that as a chance to go further."

"The Hera and the Warbirds working together and making such a bold, public statement has given the Star Empire some much-needed good publicity, for lack of a better term. And in the... spirit of that cooperation, it would be an amazing coup for them to have a Starfleet officer choose to return to the hearthworlds." the anxious Romulan woman said. "So... if Starfleet decides that I should go... and I believe they will... Verelan will try and make the strongest possible case that I should either stay, or accept a different and decidedly more permanent position with the Imperium."

"My mother said... 'Romulans never say anything without reason. Every gesture is a statement. Every unsaid word a declaration'. Verelan mentioned that the Romulan AMBASSADOR wanted to meet me as well as the Senate. We both suspect that she is angling to see if I can be lined up for that position. She knows I won't abandon Starfleet or you, and an ambassadorship... a real one would allow me to keep BOTH and still serve the Empire and work towards her endgame. It would... demand my spending more time with her and under her proverbial wing."

"The Captain agrees, as she knows more than a little about being groomed by a parent, after all. She thinks Starfleet may already be rethinking my own career with all of this as well. At least, with what whispers she's heard from Admiral Meowlith. I'm suddenly more valuable to both sides." Mnhei'sahe said, a tone of defeat in her voice, which felt weaker in that moment.

"Now we just need the Artans to start vying for your attention..." Mona muttered as she stared into her tea and sulked a bit. It seemed like everyone wanted her Minay these days. Why couldn't they just leave their happy little family alone? "If you go to ch'Rihan, I'm going with you."

At that statement, Mnhei'sahe stiffened so much she almost dropped her cup and the blood flushed out of her cheeks. The emotional reaction was so immediate and intense, that the sound of the trilling through the baby monitor on the coffee table even changed as the sleeping children, who could still empathically feel both of their mothers from a distance, were clearly feeling Mnhei'sahe now.

"The Artans tried, but I got that off of my plate, at least. But the Romulans... they knew about you at the beginning. When I was a prisoner on that ship, Verelan did her best to avoid bringing you up so as to try and frame my thoughts away from... from you. But she knew... but..." Mnehi'sahe stammered a bit as the accent she usually had almost completely under control began to leak out in her words. "If you're there... you are in direct danger. There are too many variables. Too many ways they will try to use you to get what they want, Mona. As it is, it's dangerous enough if the Captain insists on the Hera bringing me there. Legally, I am also a citizen of ch'Rihan. Verelan claimed me as her heir after the kidnapping. They could use that claim on me to decide that the ship is somehow... detaining me against my will. Use that as a legal justification to take me."

Losing Mona was, perhaps, Mnhei'sahe's greatest fear during her captivity, and that fear was all but boiling over now. "If YOU'RE there, that gives them even more leverage to get me to concede to their demands. They will try to use you in any way that they can. In ways I can't even begin to guess. It's... it's too dangerous."

Mona reached out and rested her hand on Dox's, squeezing it tenderly. "And it's my risk to take. You've seen Miradonian culture. You know how important family is. You know that bonded pairs rarely leave each other's sides. We don't have that luxury in the greater universe, but if you go it's my will to go with you and stay by your side at every step of the way if I'm allowed by the powers that be. You will never be alone."

Silently, Dox nodded as she took Mona's hand into her own and she began shuddering slightly. The tension of the day had dredged up all of the feelings she had been struggling with since her imprisonment and threatened to burst out of her as she sat there.

It was something that Mona had seen many time before in their relationship, when her wife would have to struggle to contain her pain and her anger and her feelings of powerlessness that began to overwhelm her. Sitting there, Dox began to curl up slightly and her muscles tensed up and her face curled into a tight grimace as she struggled to keep her tears in check.

In her mind, she could hear her mother's harsh words to her when she was only a child telling her that tears were signals to your enemies that they've hurt you. The endless lessons that taught her from a young age that expressing your pain and fear made you weak echoed in her mind.

But then, as she felt she was about to burst, she remembered the words of her mother from earlier in that same day. The very different woman who was doing all she could to be a better mother in the here and now: 'There will be time later to feel what you are feeling. Tonight… when you return to your quarters, you may tell Mona of the turmoil in that heart of yours too open for your burdens. Cry. Rage. Scream to the elements or Al’thindor. Then, you may let it all out then, Mnhei’sahe.”

With that small memory fresh in her mind, the dam within her finally cracked and she leaned across the small gap and all but collapsed in Mona's arms, tears streaking her cheeks and a silent scream of rage muffled in her wife's chest as all of the powerlessness she was feeling flooded out of her.

And Mona was there to receive it all. She too had been feeling overly stressed and emotional over all of that which had been happening and she too couldn't help but let her tears flow freely as well, holding her dearest as tightly as she could to her birdie bosom as she thrummed in a different way than she had ever done before, reverberating throughout both of them almost silently, bringing their bond closer so that their worries, stress, and pains could join together within each other. "I'm here for you. I will always be here for you. This I swear to you, forevermore."

"It's time to introduce you to what you signed on for, Ensign Tanaak Sado."

With those enigmatic words, the turbolift arrived and the feisty First Officer stepped inside, turning in a casual about-face to confirm Sado was in the car. Looking to the overhead, the commander called out, "Deck eleven, please- the Armory."

While it had been Commander Paris' intention that this all be covered immediately after the new officer's on boarding, circumstances and the emergency mission to Galorndan core forced this all to be put on the back burner for a few days. But with the immediate threat passed, the new member of the Hera crew could be properly introduced to their duties.

"You're trained as a combat medic. In modern Starfleet, I imagine that means you're quite adaptable to unique terrain situations and somewhat prepared for the unexpected?" Paris asked, even as the doors opened and she strode out, the flow of conversation not particularly pausing for the activity. It was clear the Commander was the 'walk and talk' type.

"Yes, Commander," the eager Ensign replied. "I've trained to work in high and low temperatures, high and low gravity, as well as otherwise inhospitable, radioactive, and toxic atmospheres." This brought back a couple of memories from the Academy. First, of the modified helmets he had to wear in most of those training situations. He'd been put in older, squarer models to accommodate his horns. The second memory was of his aquatic training. The radioactive pools of his home world had not given rise to the sport of swimming, and Tanaak had been so delighted by his exposure to the Academy's pools that he returned most mornings thereafter for laps.

"As for the unexpected, I think the right attitude is what constitutes preparedness. One of the things I like so much about Starfleet is that shared attitude of readiness to greet the unknown." He'd met a lot of people at the Academy, one or two who might even have considered him a friend, and they were as diverse a group as he could have imagined. There was one thing they all had in common, though, and that was a sort of alertness and daring he'd come to associate with Starfleet, and admire about everyone he seemed to meet.

"Ahhh, I do love that idealism, Ensign Sado. Try to never lose that, if you please. Consider it a standing order while you are on the Hera," the curvaceous commander tended to march, essentially, when she moved about the starship. There was nothing sexual about her locomotion, save the bouncing line of the front of her uniform and the rustle of the overlaid panel skirt. As they turned into the wide blast doors where two beefy Security officers in gold nodded in recognition, Paris held a finger up in the air and twirled it about.

"This is the armory, of course. Which you may note from all the nods and waves, that is under the bailiwick of Security, of which I am the head. This is not only where you come for armaments, this is also where you get fitted for your EVA armor, which is going to be something of a necessity. Do I assume you have a preference for helmet fit when it comes to your horns?" the commander mentioned it casually as they passed the firing ranges and martial arts and weapons training facilities.

There were an awful lot of women in gold, Tanaak realized. Catching the eye of the male Andorian lieutenant, he saw the distinction set that marked the officer as the Master At Arms for the ship. In a department of mostly females, the blue-skinned soldier stood out.

"Alright, Mr. Sado. I assume you've been fitted for an EVA suit before? Starfleet's come a long ways since those clunky silver suits," Paris asked as they continued deeper into the armory.

"Ah, the helmet... When I was fitted for a suit at the Academy, they tried me in an older model of helmet to save resources, but I was shown how it would be made when I would have my own." As they walked, Tanaak described how a standard design EVA helmet would be produced with the sides cut away, how a holoscan would be done of his horns, how sheaths would be replicated using the exoskeleton material, and how these would seal to the sides of the helmet. "I suppose it's almost like gilding," Tanaak said as he finished his description. "Back home, some men and women who have horns gild them with precious metals and have things like their ancestors' names inscribed." He smiled, remembering tracing the names on his partner's horns with his fingertips. Then he blinked and returned his attention to the Commander. "I promise not to inscribe anything on my equipment," he said seriously.

"My armor is gold, and bears the Starfleet delta of my day, Mr. Sado. This despite it not being an accurate Starfleet insignia, as well as the fact that our EVA armors are traditionally just black and white. And as a flag officer I should be wearing red to identify myself as command. So customization is not as frowned upon as you might image, Ensign," Paris replied with a smile. "Now go stand on the sensor pad and let's get you fully scanned, then we can wrestle with the dilemma of your horns, hm?"

"You need any assistance with that commander?" Thav asked having just finished replicating a cache of stun grenades and signing out several phaser rifles to the security teams heading out across the ship.

"I think we've got it, Lieutenant, but you're welcome to help. Mr. Th'ovohrot, this is Ensign Sado, our new combat medic, who doesn't know it yet, but he'll be following me into combat should the need arise. Mr. Sado, this is our Master-At-Arms, Lieutenant Th'ovohrot," the cheerful commander offered introductions. "He's entirely likely to be right there alongside us, again, should the need arise."

Ensign Sado offered a simple salute and grinned at the Lieutenant. He had been somewhat fascinated by the Andorians at the Academy and their resemblance to godlike creatures of myth from his own culture. "It's a pleasure, Lieutenant," he said warmly, then turned his attention to the pad. He stepped into the center and turned to face the Commander, catching her entering some information on a nearby screen. He was at first tempted to remain as still as possible, then considered that he was being measured for armor and not having an operation. He filled his lungs with air, which puffed him up even more than usual, then clenched his fists a few times as he exhaled.

"Speaking of combat," Tanaak piped up as his body was scanned, "Will I be carrying a rifle when I follow you into the fray? I may be a medic, but I'm still a soldier. I can defend myself and others if need be."

"I leave that as a personal choice, Mister Sado," the first officer replied honestly. "I'd not make the decision for a sentient to arm themselves. However, given your statement, I'll be happy to cover arms as well as armament in this briefing. There we are- give the replicator a moment here to spit out your pressure suit, and that's the core of the suit, and the part that we have to insure has a good fit. It should be coming up in that replicator over there, and there are privacy screens if you're an old-fashioned prude like me." Paris grinned at her own joke, although he got the feeling there was an element of truth to it- while the woman was definitely built like a sexpot, she comported herself in a manner consistent with what one would expect from a senior command level officer.

In short, while she joked, he could easily imagine that she was a bit old-fashioned, in more ways than one. A band of starship grey metal on the third finger of her left hand confirmed it- a traditionalist.

Tanaak had never really understood that word, prude. The use of it seemed old-fashioned in and of itself, and he suspected the Commander was the only person who could get away with calling herself one. Still, he took the joke into consideration when he decided to change behind the screen. He wasn't exactly modest, but he was thoughtful.

"Honestly, I've never liked firearms," the giant admitted as he took the pressure suit and stepped out of sight, "But I don't have a personal code against them." He could change in and out of uniform in a flash, and while it wasn't his first time changing into a suit like this, he wasn't quite as quick at it. It wasn't difficult, it slid on from the feet up with remarkable ease, his movements just weren't as practiced. "I'd think I'd like to be as well equipped as anyone else on my team. I believe my distaste for firearms should inform my restraint with them, but not force others to protect me when I could protect myself." He had a little trouble with the suit accommodating his wide chest until it settled properly around his shoulders, finally fitting as intended: like a glove.

"I'll show you the options and we can make decisions from there," the Commander explained. "A phaser can be a tool- it excites molecules and breaks down cellular bonds. Most firearms are sole purpose- destruction. But you'll find our firearms are rather exotic and versatile. Better to know their capabilities and be prepared than not."

As he stepped around the privacy screen, the Commander picked up a hand-held tricorder from one of the benches and scanned the suit. "Pressure suit shows no defects or disruptions, so we're good to go there. Alright, the replicator should start spitting out the various plates for the EVA armor as it starts construction on the upper body hardshell. Did you choose a helmet design? Ah, I see you didn. good... looks like the systems will be able to accomodate it, excellent. Wasn't sure if the helmet functions to retract and armor would still work around your horns,m but it looks like the system has adapted handily, so let's get those additional hardpoints strapped on. I tend to start at the bottom and work my way up- boots, greaves, knees, thighs, groin. Then the breastplate, pauldrons and backplate all snap on as one piece over here. So get started on that and let's get you fitted and secure that we've got your EVA armor ready."

Tanaak crossed the room to accept the plating as the replicator constructed it. He was rather a sight in the form-fitting base layer of armor. He was fit, but not lean. Everything about his build was thick, from his neck that sloped generously outward towards his shoulders (that were more than a third as wide as he was tall) to his almost femininely prominent hips and his tree-trunk thighs. He didn't seem self-conscious, though. If there was awkwardness in his stance, it was more a reflection of his personality than his comfort in his own skin.

He picked up the boots and leaned forward at the waist to put them on. "I am actually quite fond of the Federation's katanas. Back home, fighting with melee weaponry is done for sport. Usually, we fight with small pillars, not swords, but..." He trailed off and began strapping on his greaves. "Guns, however, have always symbolized something ugly on my world, something like destruction, as you said." He could have been more specific. He could have brought up intimidation, suppression, and inequality, but he was thankful to be in a more hopeful place, and didn't want to sour the atmosphere. He strapped on the knee plates, taking a moment to puzzle over whether they were identical or which one went on which knee, then started on the thigh pieces. "Still, I am happy to arm myself in any way that improves the safety of others."

"We'll investigate the options. A katana is a bit small for a sentient your size, unless we scale it up a bit for you, or you plan to wield one in each hand?" Paris asked, having produced a tablet from somewhere that she was currently tapping at busily.

" There is the andorian Hrisal if you're looking for an alternative. " the master at arms added. " We have a few collapsable ones in the armory."

Tanaak's eyes lit up at the suggestion of an Andorian weapon. "I'd need to familiarize myself with it, but I'd be honored to wield a Hrisal." He'd seen the scimitar-like blade on display and in vids, and knew his training with other weapons would help him adapt to it easily with a little practice. He snapped the last of the lower body armor plating into place and began looking for the upper body armor. "It sounds like there will be more creative ways of arming myself I expected," he mused with a grin.

"Over here, Ensign. It's a clamshell, see?" Patris swung the rack holding the open breastplate that was hinged at the shoulder over to bring it down to h You lower it down, snap it down, then release the catch it on these magnetic points here, here and here, and it releases. And you know where the points buckle, so I'll let you get situated there. Once we check for manufacturing defects, we'll do an atmospheric test, and you can customize as you like. many of the wrist, calf and belt accessories as well as back storage are up to you, and I encourage everyone to customize their suit. It's an exploration survival suit, after all, and it needs to be able to serve you in a number of capacities. Which includes more than just weaponry... although a hunting knife is a multifunction tool, is it not?"

"With enough creativity, anything is a multifunction tool," Tanaak said with a smile, positioning himself under the rack and pulling the breastplate closed over him. "I had a classmate who passed a practical exam by using a surgical mask and a paperclip when her equipment malfunctioned." He checked the fit of the pauldrons as he released the catches and stepped free of the magnetic hold. He knew he was fortunate to have come from a world where his size was not unusual and directly into one where clothing and armor were customizable. He took a moment to fasten his buckles and double-check that he hadn't missed any.

"I'll take as many extra straps and pouches as possible for a tricorder and medical equipment. Kelotane, adrenaline, morathial... painkillers for when all else fails." Having secured his armor, Sado stood tall with his hands on his hips, ready to check and test it.

"We can secure all of that, of course, and you are welcome to customize accessories as you see fit. Alright, let's get the arms and gauntlets secured, bring up the helmet and test the seal, then let's try a little field test, shall we?" It seemed Paris wasn't planning to suit up herself, as she'd made no overtures in that direction. But clearly she had plans in mind as she walked the new onboarding officer through his paces.

Tanaak was delighted to see that the replicator had finished his three piece helmet. He moved to pick it up and slide the main piece over his head. It gently flattened his short mane as he secured it to his armor. Then he picked up the side pieces, molded after his own horns. He'd not practiced this before, and it took him nearly a minute to get the first one on the right way around. The second sheathe went on a bit easier, and the Ensign adjusted the helmet until the side pieces clicked into place and formed a seal. He'd have to remember to put the sides on first next time.

"Ready for me to test the power supply?" the seven foot soldier asked. He couldn't help but run a his gloved hand along the curve of his armored horn before he lowered it again to rest over the switch on his chest. He could feel his heart beating a little quickly with excitement and anticipation.

"The HUD is reactive, even in powered off mode, so feel free, bring it online," the comely commander directed as she ticked off some of the capabilities of the Mark 19 EVA armor. "Full tricorder sensory capabilities, holographic heads up on your visor as well as the interior surface of the helmet. Strength augmentation up to a factor of three, but it's a slow drain on the battery. Optimal operating window of forty hours, solar recharging capability as well as various input ports. A rather impressive onboard computer that can most certainly hold any relevant data you like- I know quite a few of the crew are fond of musical accompaniment while they are doing field work, and the memory systems in there could store the musical library of your planet's history. At least I assume so- it can hold my planet's musical history and it's a surprisingly small allotment of the data storage capacity."

---------

Thav, seeing how things were going, had disappeared into the armory's storage room to collect the necessary weight pads to help adjust Sado's armor to carrying the necessary medical gear he'd be needing on any missions. He knew where they were stored so it wasn't long before with them in hand he was making his way back feeling his quad's hair on his Shapla as he did. He was......

The bang even shook the andorian master at arms as he wheeled around to see what had happened. His blue eyes stood in shock at what it had come from. The heavy security case Thex kept the armor of Achilles in when she wasn't wearing it had moved from its place. Great, as if we had enough to worry about in this weird pit, he thought as he shoved it back into its place before raising the heaviest shields the armory had.

Sending a quick message to engineering to inform his sh'za he hurried back to the commander and the ensign.

----------

Tanaak's HUD showed green across the board and he flexed his arms as he looked over the icons and indicators. He'd had this simulated for him, but he'd never had a helmet that fit his horns before. It was a proud moment for him, wearing equipment that would be entirely his. He knew it would take a minute for him to get used to the gloves and wondered what music he'd want to use the helmet to play. Probably something soothing, maybe some of the metal he'd grown fond of at the Academy.

"About that field test--" Tanaak began, but turned abruptly when he heard a sound from the area the master at arms had disappeared into. His instincts drove him forward a step and a half before he stopped himself. There didn't seem to be an emergency, and he would rather not run off into the depths of the armory on his first visit. He glanced at the Commander.

"Not a crisis or we'd have heard the shouting. Alright, Mr. Sado, would you like to take her out in a field test and get a feel for what the job you've signed on for can be at times?" While she wasn't speaking in absolutes, it was clear the curvaceous commander seemed to be preparing the combat medic for duties that might just be a bit above and beyond what he'd been prepared for at the Academy.

Tanaak turned to fully face her and nodded. Timid as he could be at times, the excitement of his new armor and the promise of a challenge had his adrenaline flowing. The Ensign had two frequently used smiles: one, a slight grin that crinkled the corners of his eyes with warmth; the other, and what appeared on his face now, a wide crack in his face that showed off too many of his teeth. It was the smile that he met adventure with. "Let's see what you've got for me, Commander."

A broad grin spread across the face of the curvaceous commander as she eyed the new recruit, nodding with satisfaction before calling out in a clear, strong voice of command, without ever breaking eye contact. "Alright Ensign. Chief Yeager, please load up Meroset 347 scenario 7B, urban combat in Herapolis. Which means, of course, you'll need a weapon. So let's get you introduced, shall we Ensign?"

As she spoke, Master At Arms Th'pvhrot returned with a rather large and bulky rifle cradled in his arms, along with a standard Type 3 phaser rifle, and a phaser that looked like an antique from the same era as the Commander's uniform. Sleek, dark blue and black, it looked like a pistol, rather than the modern 'dustbuster' phaser. Taking the rifle from the Andorian master at arms, Paris hefted it with a grunt- clearly the weapon was surprisingly heavier than it looked.

"The TR-116C2 rifle, slung for a right hander," Rita shifted the weapon in her grip. "The model C was redesigned for more efficient operation against Borg and similar targets as the TR-116, using a magazine filled with dense replicator matter to feed a micro-replication system to create a string of 2.2mm tritanium bullets and varied ammunition types as needed. Thus why it's so heavy, coming in around 22 and a half kilos. The normal capacity of the replicator matter magazine is 80-120 rounds depending on settings. Normal ball point, hollow point, incendiary, delayed tracer rounds, and marker rounds are the most commonly programmed ammunition types. Only single fire and three round burst are enabled on this model without modification."

"The gyrostatic stabilization system can be a bit buggy during high rates of fire, but is fairly consistent in keeping all 3 rounds on target as long as the operator waits a moment for it to resync between cycles. The main unit is powered by the same dual regenerative power supply used in the standard issue proton rifle. Along with this, it uses the targeting microcomputer from the same rifle. Because of the power supply, it still functions in environments in which normal phasers are useless, and has greater effectiveness against energy shielded targets. A transporter module and exographic targeting system can be attached for stealth sniper missions, but I tend to make that part of the normal loadout," Paris explained, indicating where the safety was as she explained the weapon.

"The MACO modified TR-116-C2 takes this technology to an even higher extreme, replacing the lower mechanical tube with a secondary 18mm barrel that can be used for more specialized ammunition," Paris explained as she demonstrated the underslung grenade launcher. "Common preprogrammed munitions are micro-airburst, smoke grenade, rubber, low yield plasma grenade, and tear gas. This reduces a magazine's rounds to 6-12 depending on the munition produced. It also adds a full auto option and a sturdier gyrostatic stabilization system to aid with consistent targeting. Questions so far?" Paris handed the rifle over to the large and imposing armored figure, who noted that even for his large and now armored fingers, the trigger guard was more than large enough to accommodate him. Whether this was a specialized build for him or by design, he was uncertain.

As soon as he took the weapon in hand, the smartlink activated, and a subwindow came up in his HUD, showing the weapon status, clearing him for use, and bringing the power supply, density of ammunition counter calculator and a targeting system that was offline but clearly available, with range finder and atmospheric conditions on display for the asking.

Tanaak's face grew hard as he examined the weapon. He inspected the magazine filled with dense replicator matter as well as the secondary barrel. He thumbed the safety, but left it on as he turned away from the others and raised the comfortably heavy rifle to his shoulder to focus on the back wall. He lowered it again and cycled through the pre-programmed options for ammo, familiarizing himself with the shorthand for each on his HUD. As somber as he was handling a thing of such power, he was also extremely impressed by its engineering... and ever so slightly excited by the incendiary ammo.

As he toggled from single fire to the three round burst option, he remembered an argument he'd entered into with a couple of young cadets at the Academy about which firing style was superior. To their great annoyance, Tanaak brought up statistics and z-scores for rate of fire, accuracy, reload time, and a few other factors. In the end, Tanaak came down on the side of the three round burst, an answer no one really liked. Tanaak spent the next week at the firing range improving his speed and accuracy with burst rifles just to prove that his numbers weren't wrong. Those rifles didn't have such advanced stabilization, either, thought Tanaak. I bet I could outdo myself with this if I wanted to.

He lifted the rifle to his shoulder again. "Just one question so far." More efficient against the Borg? Tear gas? "Is this standard issue equipment for all your officers?" Tanaak didn't regret where he was standing one bit, but the weapon in his hand suddenly felt much heavier.

"No, Mr. Sado, it is not," Paris replied solemnly. "Type 1, 2 and 3 phasers are standard issue, but you're already familiar with those. Although the Security forces seem quite fond of my old Type 2 replicas." With that said, Paris took a few steps over to a weapons rack panel, keyed in her code to open it, and when the panel slid aside, the produced a phaser looked perfectly at home in her hand, as it matched the era of the uniform she wore. "It has a pistol grip, classic black and bluye-grey styling, ten settings, beam adjustment, and it's remarkably easy to aim. While it looks like duotronics in action, the guts are all modern isolinear chips, and she'll perform as well as a modern phaser. It just fits in the hand better."

"The weapon you're carrying is a MACO weapon designed for heavy assault- warzones, urban assault, ground pounding combat that doesn't involve starships or support craft. because sometimes that happens, and sometimes we are called upon for it. When that moment comes, I'll be there. You, Mr. Sado, will be there if I am there, because I may very well need a medic on hand for civilians, or to keep me in one piece. So this is most certainly an element of your duties- one I genuinely hope we will never have to call upon you for, but a facet nonetheless." The old-fashioned officer's tome made it clear that she did not see war as a glorified exercise, but a last resort. With the regret in her tone and the restraint in her words, it was clear that she viewed this as a necessary evil- yet still her duty. Which she would uphold, and insure that her subordinate knew exactly what he was signing on for, with no evasions or sugar-coating.

"So... would you like to get a practical feel for the armor and the weapon?" the buxom bombardier asked the massive medic. "A few moments of practical exercise, to get a feel for the armor, the weapon, and working with me in the field?"

"I would. Very much." Tanaak deeply appreciated the gravity given to the Commander's answer, and again he thought of the Spirits idolized by his people. Compassion, Duty, Wisdom. He was eager to test the gear, but even more curious to see the Commander in action. Would they move well together, like two parts of a machine? Would their methods of communication be compatible? He already held respect for her, and was ready to find out how confident he could be following her into battle.

"I'm ready to start the simulation if you are, Commander. What are your orders?"

"Carlson," Paris called over her shoulder as she strode over to one of the doorways to the simulators. "Bring up the Meroset 347 simulation for me in simulator 2, urban pacification module 4. Standard difficulty rating, safety protocols set at 4 of 10- bruises but no bleeding. Myself and Ensign Sado."

Turning to regard the armed and armored giant of a combat medic, Paris, still clad in her minidress uniform of 130 years ago, smiled brightly up at Sado. "Our orders are to pacify the hostiles, minimize civilian casualties and wortk our way toward the temple at the center of the city on the mountaintop, while taking out the psychic resonators throughout the city. There are a dozen of them placed strategically throughout the city, as they'll be marked on your HUD and map overlay that should be loading up now, Ensign. They are guarded by contingents of Amazons for whom their shields can absorb energy weapons, Minotaurs whose strength, durability and ferocity are unparalleled, harpies who, yes, can fly, and living stone statuary who are a bit invulnerable to conventional harm, although they are vulnerable to any force that can affect polished marble."

"Yes, I know- it all sounds mythological, and that's a touch confusing. But myths often have a foundation in reality, and you'll discover that's truer on the Hera than most places. So... ready, Mr. Sado?" The door to the simulator opened on what appeared to be a street in a bronze-age society, whose white clay building structures and marble edifices with paved brick streets was highly reminiscent of the Greek culture from Earth, one of their oldest civilizations.

Tanaak stepped through the door with the confident Commander and quickly fell into step just behind her, still slightly in her periphery. The marble architecture reminded him a bit of home, though it lacked the distinctive domes and blue accents. He'd learned a little about ancient Greece in his earth history class, but he was by no means an expert. He was trying to recall if he'd ever learned what harpies were when he saw something flying overhead.

A bird of prey the size of a human, with a woman's torso and face sailed high above them. It had long, dark, lovely hair that matched its dark feathers, but it was too far away to see if its face was just as beautiful. "Above us," murmured the medic. "It hasn't appeared to notice us, but it could be a scout."

"Likely a spotter for the ground troops- good eye, Mr. Sado," said the minidress-clad commander, who turned to face the newest crew member with something of a gleam in her eye. "Now, remember when I mentioned that myths have foundation in reality?"

With that said, the curvaceous Commander in the antique uniform pulled back her sleeves, to show two bronze bracers, one on each wrist. They looked archaic, more at home on the planet they were virtually standing on than on the throwback commander. Bringing them together, Paris clinked them together gently, and suddenly she was clad in her own EVA armor, the black bodysuit accented by the gold armored plates, the same color as her uniform. On the left breast was emblazoned the same antique delta that the Commander wore on her uniform- a simple delta with a starburst in the center.

As the armor appeared, Sado noted that it was powered off. Bringing the systems up, the hum of electronics and circuitry was familiar, and he could see her HUD displays coming online. "Mythology often has a foundation in fact, and sometimes, on the Hera in particular, it tends to manifest."

A rifle, the exact same as the one in Sado's hand, appeared in the hand of the fulsome first officer, and she powered that on as well, insuring that the weapon was online, linked and ready for combat. "So rule 1- expect the unexpected, and always assume there's more going on than meets the eye. Now, look at our targets, analyze the situation, and outline a plan of action for me. And if you have questions, now's a good time to ask them."

"Ruling out splitting up, since that wold ignore half the reason for our exercise, I can see a clear path to the first resonator. My thinking is that we take it. While the simplest path is often the best guarded, and we should be prepared for resistance, we should take advantage of the open space and even terrain city streets provide. I'd prefer to work methodically, not rush, or else we could be flanked by hostiles. I'd like to avoid patrols when we can, and start with non-lethal methods of dealing with conflict when we can't. If the opportunity for distraction presents itself, I say we take it, but I don't want to damage buildings or put friendlies in harm's way." Tanaak gestured to the road that would take them to their first objective. "If you lead the way, I'll cover our rear."

"Declaring IFF, ordering targets... there's our first objective, suggested course, and there we go, there's our target. The shrine serving as a psionic resonator and amplifier. Looks like four Amazons, a trio of harpies, and a Minotaur. I can tell you from experience, we can offer to parley, but they're a bit fanatical. However," sharing the scans and data she was processing from her armor's scanners, which had the functionality of any tricorder, she outlined the tactical situation clearly.

"Just because we know they won't give up, doesn't mean we don't try to persuade them," the human Starfleet officer smiled, striking a pose, the large rifle hanging casually, but with proper trigger discipline and pointed at the ground. There was the hilt of a short bladed weapon of some sort protruding over her left shoulder, and what appeared to be a billy club of some sort adhered to her right thigh. He noted the corner of a medkit protruding from her back as well, and the hilt of an old-style survival knife protruded from a calf sheath.

When the woman stood and walked and breathed, by human standards, she was pretty- an athletic, attractive woman. But when she smiled, even the great horned Oriasi could see it. Waggling her eyebrows, he watched as the smile she'd beamed his way was put away, and she put on her 'game face'- an alert, focused expression that meant that lives were on the line, and danger was in the air.

"Let's move out, Mister Sado."

Moving off at a trot, head down, Paris stuck to the buildings as she moved, porting her rifle as her scanners told her who was out there, friend or foe. This was, in her estimation, much easier than when she had done such things clad in a minidress, with only a phaser in one hand and a tricorder with the other.

The giant followed a few steps behind, weaving his thick legs surprisingly elegantly as he crossed his feet one over the other in a side-winding pattern. He kept his back to the buildings and his Commander in his periphery as he kept an eye on the direction they'd come from. He held the rifle ready, but kept his finger off of the trigger. Large as it was, it looked natural in his silvery lavender hands. The archways and pillars made him a little nostalgic for home, but pushed thoughts of the past and future to the back of his mind in favor of the present. He kept alert for the signs and sounds of trouble.

Utilizing the scanners of their suits, they were easily able to bypass the two patrols they encountered, ad while the Harpies were still air spotting, they were using stables and what cover the local architecture offered to limit the 'eye in the sky' effectiveness of the winged locals. Arriving at the shrine, Sado's scanners confirmed the numbers and troop types Paris had pointed out earlier, and from a block away, they eyed their target visually.

"Alright Mr. Sado. Take the lead- what's our gameplan here?" Even as she asked, Paris shouldered her rifle in her right hand and flicked her wrist. A phaser appeared in her left hand- one that had not been in use for over a dozen decades in Starfleet, but with it's dark styling and pistol shape, it was quite clearly a weapon, unlike it's modern counterparts. The bright blue eyes of the human officer out of time watched him for his reactions, as he realized that she was studying him, gauging his reactions, and judging him. So far, it seemed, judging him positively, as her demeanor was still relatively easygoing and instructional, and she was giving him room to work.

The Ensign examined the shrine and thrust his lower lip out in his thoughtful pout, but he didn't wait too long before speaking up. "We're dealing with sentient creatures. There will likely be a patrol we could tail or guards we have to deal with upfront. I suggest we go in quietly, subdue any guards without detection if possible, and avoid patrols. If we're spotted, we should try talking them to standing down, but something tells me they won't go for that. If and when we end up in combat, what we do should depend on how mobile our enemies are. If they fire on us from a set point, getting into cover should be our first move. If they attack us directly, we'll want to stay mobile as well. If we're separated and it's possible for one of us to reach the beacon and deactivate it, that should take priority. Otherwise we fall back to our last safe location."

"All right, let's follow through on that plan. Computer's projecting the patrols for the past few minutes we've been leading in and studying the territory.... so. There are our patrols, at least as predicted from available data, which may or may not be great, but it is what we have, and it will increase the longer we are boots on the ground." The subwindow that appeared in Tanaak Sado's helmet showed the data of the specific scan she had requested, pathing the Amazon patrol and predicting their positioning moving forward.

"Alley over there is coming up on their patrol route, so on the bounce, Mister Sadi." With that said, the confident commander got up and took off running, the sun gleaming off that golden armor.

Tanaak followed, noticing that his armor could enhance the strength with which he propelled himself forward. If the need arose, they could sprint faster than this. They ducked into an alleyway as they approached the Amazon patrol. Pressed against a wall, they waited for the patrol to pass. It was a single warrior, wearing beautiful armor and carrying an impressive gladius. They could quietly stun her, incapacitate her while they went about their mission, but now they were in view of the guards posted outside the temple.

"Alright, Mr. Sado. I believe the plan was subdue the patrol, then you were going to attempt reason," Paris said with no sarcasm nor mockery in her tone. "For this one, I'm the observer. So show me."

The Ensign nodded. "Since we can't deal with the patrol without alerting the guards, we may need to change up that order. I'll greet the two guards; if the patrol comes back for me, I want you to stun her." The patrol had passed, but not gone far. Tanaak turned to face the street again, took a deep breath, and stepped out of the alleyway.

The guards noticed him immediately. His size and horns gave them pause. A Minotaur in strange armor? No... They reached for their swords.

"I have important business in the temple," Tanaak said, holding up one hand, palm out. Behind him, the patrol stopped and turned. One of the guards drew her sword, and Tanaak brought his rifle out from behind his back, raising it to his shoulder. "I wouldn't do that if I were you," he warned. "I don't want to hurt you." The other guard drew her sword as well, and the pair of them charged Tanaak.

He heard the sound of a phaser fire behind him, and he trusted that the Commander had taken care of the patrol. He moved as he took aim and fired a three round burst into the left leg of the guard closer to Paris, crippling her, but he wasn't putting as much distance between himself and the other guard as she was covering. With a cry of rage, a brilliant blue disc of energy sprang up from the bracer on her left wrist as she lunged to close the distance.

In that moment, Tanaak had a split second to decide: shoot her point blank, or fight her hand to hand? He lowered his body and sneered, grabbing her sword arm as she was swinging down. He pulled her off balance and into a choke-hold. She was strong, much stronger than a human. Taller, too. She probably could have given some of the Oriasi women back home a run for their money, and definitely could have taken some of the men. Still, as Tanaak lifted her off the ground, head in the crook of his elbow, she finally succumbed.

A roar sounded from inside the temple, and Tanaak turned to the Commander, who had moved up on his 4. He gestured to the unconscious warrior on the ground. "I don't think that trick will work on whatever's in there."

"Computer, pause scenario, please," Paris called out as the tableau froze, and her helmet retracted as she offered feedback. After all, this wasn't a test. "Smart move going with ballistics- those fancy shields only work on energy, which seems pointless in a low tech society. I really should ask about that sometime. I appreciate the restraint of the sleeper hold- nicely done, Mr. Sado. I approve. We carry weapons with stun settings for a reason, and I appreciate your willingness to turn your martial skills in that direction."

"The Minotaur is tough. Go ahead, work your way through some of the rounds, try some of the grenades. I'll take care of the air patrol while you play hit and run. Keep in mind, in a genuine scenario we would be working much harder to be efficient, yes. But in this case, this is a training holo we're using to get a feel for one another in the field, because we're two strangers who are going to be placing our lives in one another's hands in dangerous scenarios like this one. Plus that's the first time you've encountered this multifunction weapon, so you probably would like a moment of experience with it. So on your first day, I feel I owe it to you to know just what you're in for." Paris grinned, and it was a smile that could light up a room- a peculiar sight in a power assist EVA armorsuit with a TR-116CR in her hand.

Tanaak beamed back as the simulation started back up, then turned his attention to the temple's entrance. Grenades, huh? The armored Ensign switched the rifle in his hands over to the secondary barrel and set it to produce smoke grenades, one of which he fired into the temple. The Minotaur bellowed again. Tanaak had hoped that the creature would emerge from the temple disoriented, but the Minotaur was in its own territory. It could have made it through the temple in pitch blackness.

The bull-headed beast burst through the smoke at full speed. "Spirits," Tanaak whispered under his breath when he saw it. He had enough time to switch back to the primary barrel and fire a burst of hollow points into the Minotaur's shoulder before it rammed into the Oriasi's side. Being flung backwards from the force of the blow was quite a shock for the over-sized medic. He'd feel that one tomorrow. Although he'd been wiped off his feet, the smile quickly returned to his face. It had been awhile since he'd been in combat with anything his size, and he loved a challenge.

He switched the rifle to full auto and activated incendiary ammo. As the Minotaur made its second charge, Tanaak aimed for the creature's core and let loose. It roared as the rounds chummed into and through it, sizzling as they cauterized the flesh they passed through, including a number of vital organs. As the beast's momentum carried it on, Tanaak deftly stepped aside, letting the mortally wounded, dead on it's feet beast to fall in a shopkeeper's carts of vegetables.

"We had to create ammunition that would affect them. Until this battle they were immune to anything the rifles produced as well. Sounds like a good time, right?" Paris wisecracked as the two harpies struggled to rise from a nearby rooftop, and without looking she absently launched another flash-bang grenade in their direction, offering the other hand to the combat medic. "Good to know you can take a hit, Mr. Sado. had enough of this for now? Think you've got an idea of what you might be in for just yet?"

"To expect the unexpected, including- but not limited to- mythical monsters?" Tanaak laughed heartily. It was a deep, warm sound that came from his wide chest. "I'm certainly more aware of just how broad a category the unexpected is. I can't say I know what's ahead, but I'll be signing on under no illusions." Serious once more, the horned medic nodded. "I've gotten a good feel for the armor as well. Thank you for the exercise."

"You and I will be doing a few hours like this in similar training scenarios every week, Ensign. So don't thank me too much yet,"
the cheerful commander replied, even as a Harpy, recovered from the flash-bang, took to the air with beating wings and shrieked in Paris' direction wings folding back for a dive.

"Computer, end simulation, please," Paris called out as her armor powered down, the systems going offline and the lights of the suit dimming, then winking out. As she did so, the armor vanished, and she was smoothing out that minidress that really was a bit too short for a woman of her curves and dimension. "Why don't you get back in uniform, and we'll finish the tour, Mr. Sado. This was the less dangerous part of your duties. Now we'll talk about the duty I am hoping you will accept, that's far more dangerous than Amazons and Minotaurs..."

A mix of concern and excitement flashed across Tanaak's face as the holotrainer of the ship's armory came back into view around them. More dangerous? He had no doubt he'd be faced with more exotic and unrelenting creatures, scenarios, and terrains, but he could tell the Commander had something specific in mind. She wasn't trying to warn him that the real thing would be worse, there was something else.

"I would have wanted to run through simulations on my own in my spare time if you hadn't offered," the Ensign said with a nod. He moved back behind the partition where he'd left his uniform and began to change. The pleasant discovery was the armor was just as surprisingly easy to get out of as it was to get into.

"Good. I've never had anyone serve in this capacity for me as part of a coordinated combat strike team," the gold-clad commander admitted, being straightforward and honest as was her style. "Back in my day, we did it all in stretch velour miniskirts, not powered armor, and you'd have been wearing a blue shirt. But times change, and I'd be a fool to believe that times won't come when we'll need that kind of firepower combined with that level of protection. I love the suits- they are everything an explorer could ever want. The guns.... that's a sad fact of the universe. But we've still got phasers, so we still prefer reason. I find that comforting, to be frank."

"I'm curious about this more dangerous duty you've mentioned," the Oriasi mused, a hint of humor back in his voice to mask his concern. "What sort of cold-blooded creatures will I be dealing with? Or is the danger more abstract? Will I be responsible for thwarting a dark future?" He emerged in his uniform once more, holding his helmet under his arm. "You may tell me in your own time, of course, but I am... intrigued."

"Ohhh, Mr. Sado. Do I strike you as the sort to keep you in suspense? You haven't even seen your quarters yet today," the feisty first officer pointed out with a bright and cheerful smile. "Walk with me, Ensign. Time for you to see the experiment we've got cooking on Deck 13."

Once again Tanaak fell into step behind the cheery Commander, wondering just what awaited him on their next stop. Deck 13... He tried to remember the map he'd been given access to of the ship's layout. The intel computer core? Surely there's no experiment in the residential quarters. As he maneuvered his wide frame through the armory's exit, following the Commander's bouncing step and swaying hips, he felt his scalp tingle with anticipation.

Deck 13...

Taking the turbolift down to deck 13, the anachronistic astronaut looked up to eye the two-meter tall horned wall of muscle following her. Physically intimidating and fearsome to behold, he was possessed of a quick mind, an analytic nature and a determination to prove himself. All of these the time-tossed temptress found to be desirable qualities in an officer, and he was already impressing her. So much so that she was now enacting an impulsive bit of her plan. But then, Rita Paris tended to plot her course while already in motion, and the Oriasi officer seemed to be a good fit for the duties she had outlined thus far.

Now for the acid test.

As they moved into the daycare of the starship, the commander began to explain. "On the Hera, the birth rate is statistically higher than is expected or projected. There's a reason for that, and I'll explain. But for now, accept the fact that those who can reproduce are doing so at a remarkable rate on the USS Hera. In some cases, even those who can't.... again, we'll get to that.

The nursery was abuzz with crewmen clad in medical blue who were in the process of caring for literally dozens of infants, all under one year old, of varying humanoid races, and one rather precious looking octopoid with violet and cream patterned skin and big orange eyes with slits instead of pupils being bottle fed by one of the crewmen, who smiled at them.

Tanaak couldn't help but smile back. He wasn't entirely sure why they were walking through the daycare, but he knew they wouldn't be here without good reason. From the way the Commander was talking, he could tell he'd been wrong about what the other duties he'd be offered would and wouldn't be. He was starting to realize that something about the children here was going to be the main event, and he wasn't sure yet how he felt about that. Ready, eager, of course... but what role would he be asked to play?

Still, seeing the busy crewmen fussing over a full nursery made him a little nostalgic. He was old enough to help when his brother and sister were born. They had been twins. For months, it had been delightful chaos in the house as he and his parents struggled to keep up with two perfect, precious babies. The sounds and smells of the nursery brought back a flood of memories; joyous and terrifying.

As they passed a child with an unreasonable amount of dark swirling hair, she burst into tears at the sight of the over-sized Oriasi soldier. He quickly knelt down, hid his horns behind his broad hands, and flashed his biggest smile at her. When she began to chuckle, he got back to his feet and took long strides to catch up to Paris who had stopped to watch him with an expression he couldn't identify.

"My apologies," Tanaak said seriously. "I'm with you."

"I'm realizing that," Paris smiled, her expression one of frank appraisal. "We have 752 crewmen onboard the Hera. We have an additional 24 civilian workers in various functions. There are, in addition, 82 minors onboard, of varying ages, races and levels of scholastic achievement. This is all a reasonably recent development for the Hera, within the past year. The birth rate seemed to indicate we needed a solution, and ours is a generational story. With Starfleet, it always has been."

As they walked, they entered a grand rotunda with stairs leading down to the lower deck, and lining the rotunda seemed to be classrooms. Stepping up to the rail, Paris placed her palms on it and leaned, taking it all in as her hip cocked and the woman unconsciously played up her sex appeal without trying. "I have a nursery, a preschool, a series of classrooms and even a few instructors. Heck, I even have a special ed program and a specialist for that."

"What I don't have, Mr. Sado, is a headmaster." Paris turned to look at the large and imposing horned Oriasi. "I need someone to manage all of this. Someone who understands fear, and when to apply it. Someone who knows when a gentle hand is called for, and is unafraid to extend it. Someone..." As a paper starship zipped by an inch from her nose, Paris cocked an eyebrow and smirked. "Someone who can bring discipline, fairness, and create an atmosphere that encourages growth in all facets- academic, personal and social."

"I think you're the man for the job, Mr. Sado. In addition to being my wingman on potentially dangerous missions not involving hordes of unruly youngsters." Squatting smoothly, her knees together, Paris picked up the paper starship and studied the design. "Some sound aerospace principles at work here. It shows promise, I suspect, as does the audacity of flying it past the noise of the first officer. What do you say, Mr. Sado?"

The medical officer's mind raced. Could he possibly take a position he hadn't trained for? He eyed the children around him. I won't be teaching classes, I'll be... His eyes widened and the corners of his mouth twitched up into a hopeful smile. I'll be part of the education system that I loved and wanted to share with Itthakor. "I'll do it!" he blurted, then frowned and shook his head. "I mean... I should probably say I'll consider it." His ears grew a little darker than usual.

"What I really mean is that I'd like to prepare myself to take the job. I don't want to presume that I'm ready to just... jump right in. I may not need to go back to school for a teaching degree, but I'll need to acquaint myself with the curriculum, find out how responsible I'm to be for the work the teachers do, and how to counsel them as well as the students." The giant worried his fingers over one of his horns. "Surely there are others more qualified for the position, but with your vote of confidence..." He cleared his throat. "I am fully aware that I'll have some catching up to do in order to accept the position, but I would very much like to accept."

"Ongoing education is admirable, Mister Sado. But what I need is an able and active administrator- settling disputes, solving problems and finding solutions for some remarkably unique challenges," Paris replied as a youngster wearing a green envirosuit complete with 'fishbowl' helmet walked by. The youngster's face was rather reminiscent of a goldfish, although he was still a bipedal humanoid. "The fact that you are physically imposing is a plus, because size represents authority to the subconscious. You are a trained combat medic, so there is no schoolyard dust-up that you'll fear, nor any injury for which you are unprepared. You bring enthusiasm, efficiency and excellence with you- the Starfleet tradition."

"I have the utmost faith in you, Headmaster Sado. I leave this in your capable hands," Paris offered her hand, and when he took it, gave a professional handshake- firm grip, two pumps, release. "I'll see you at 15:00 every Wednesday and Friday in the armory for an hour of simulated combat training." Turning to walk away, Paris wagged her finger over her shoulder. "Now that you're here, I have to make sure the old lady doesn't go soft..."

"Headmaster Sado," the Oriasi breathed to himself, picking up the paper ship that had sailed by earlier and turning it over in his large hands. A gentle smile spread over his face as he looked at the fragile likeness that he held; the symbol of hope, the unknown, and all the bright futures a starship could hold.

As Enalia sipped at her tea and tapped at her desk terminal, looking over yet another stack of documents for her review, she wondered if there would be an end to the number of reports Intel Command and her own ship could generate for just one day, especially after the last mission. There was enough excitement, but there was an equal share of paperwork. Right now though? She could use a distraction from the exciting paperwork she had been staring at for what felt like hours on end.

In the hallway, seven foot soldier Tanaak Sado went over in his mind the greetings he had practiced. His heart beat a little quickly as he tried to remind himself: You've earned this. They want you here. He took a deep breath and marched up to the doorway, raising his fist in a completely unnecessary attempt to knock. The doors slid open before he touched them and he beheld the Captain of the Hera in person. Despite the fact that he was a little old for a recruit, and a little tall for being intimidated, he was absolutely starstruck. The glamour of the position was no match for his practiced speech. "Captain," he said bluntly. He quickly lowered his fist, then raised his hand again in a salute. "Ensign Tanaak Sado, reporting for duty."

"Please, come in and have a seat," Enalia replied, her mood brightening immediately at the sight of the tall Ensign. Returning the salute as quickly as she could, she motioned to the thermos of tea on her desk. "May I offer you some tea? My wife made a wonderful Yorkshire blend for me today."

Tanaak completed his salute and crossed the threshold. Although his nerves were still high, there was a pleasantness in the room and in the Captain's voice that gave him a warm, hopeful feeling. "That sounds wonderful, actually, thank you!" The words bubbled out energetically in his deep, dark voice. He took a seat and a genuine smile spread across his lips. As it always did, the tide of his initial anxiety was turning to excitement now that he'd found a place for himself, though that wouldn't save him from a little bit of gushing. "This is a magnificent ship," he said in a hushed tone, as if he were sharing gossip. Remembering himself, he cleared his throat. "As you well know, Captain," he managed in a professional tone, but the smile remained on his face.

The Captain chuckled softly as she pulled out another gilded teacup and saucer and poured some of the steaming red tea into it for her large guest. "Normally that's my line, but you're right. She's quite the amazing vessel. Too bad in all the refits, they couldn't give me a bigger office." With a wide grin, Enalia motioned around at the office she held that was only slightly larger than a closet. It was still large enough for a terrarium, a couch, her desk, and chairs, but compared to the rest of the ship, the beige walled room was decidedly cramped.

"I had hoped that when they installed the Hope series Intel bridge, I'd get more space but no, it's still the smallest office on the Hera. At least the chairs are comfortable."

Tanaak gingerly accepted the cup and saucer and took a sip without blowing on the contents, but he didn't seem to have burned himself. He was putting his naturally high body temperature to use. He raised his eyebrows in appreciation when the aroma and flavor of the tea settled in his nose and mouth. Tea was actually something Tanaak loved--when brewed by someone else. He'd tried, and although he could cook plenty of things, preparing tea was just something he wasn't good at.

As Tanaak looked around the office, he wasn't sure if it was more polite to agree that the office was too small, or say that it was very nice, anyway. He gently set the cup and saucer down and decided to nod thoughtfully instead. He chuckled as he finally thought of a response. "I'm sure it feels that much smaller now that I'm here!" In truth, Tanaak had found the the ship to be surprisingly accommodating of his size. He hadn't clipped his horns or elbows on anything, though he was sure that record wouldn't remain spotless forever.

"I suppose you have questions for me," the new Ensign said, settling into his chair. "I know I have some for you."

"Then how about we start with your questions?" Enalia asked, looking up to the larger man with that piratical, lopsided grin of hers. "I'm curious as to what you want to know and it'll help me get to know you better."

Tanaak cleared his throat and laced his fingers together. He stuck his lower lip out in thought for just a moment. "Commander Paris has already given me a rundown of my duties, I'm not unclear on those, but I would like to know your thoughts on the position I'll be taking. Before I settle into a routine, I wanted to know if you have a vision for me." The giant's silvery purple cheeks deepened in color. "That is my first question. The other would be an indulgence, but... I would ask a similar question about your position. What is your vision of a starship captain? What does that position mean to you?"

The spotted woman leaned back in her chair and took a deep break, letting it out slowly. "Not questions I often get. My vision for you is to be the best Starfleet officer and person you can be and to expand your horizons within your position and without it. I know that's a general and vague answer, but I can't just repeat what Rita's already said, now can I? No, I'd like you to apply yourself to more than just your job. That's what that means. Take initiative, learn more than your duties, volunteer, and become a well rounded person."

"As for myself, I have the same goals for myself. On top of that, I endeavor to spread freedom across the galaxy and be the best Captain, leader, mother, and wife that I can be."

"I hope my questions didn't trouble you, because I appreciate your answers very much." Tanaak smiled hopefully, his face still dark with embarrassment over his personal questions. "You've confirmed for me that this is where I need to be. Expanding the horizons of my soul, learning and doing good; these are the goals I have for myself as well." He nodded and broke eye contact for a few moments, allowing the intense feeling to subside. "You are proud of your family," the Oriasi said softly. "Would you like to tell me about them?"

"It's no trouble at all," the Trill woman replied with a bright smile. "My wife is an amazing woman. I know most people frown on arranged and mail order brides these days, but I met another Maica and after some negotiating with the main one, she agreed to spawn another version and have her delivered to the ship to see if we could hit it off and... Well, we did. I mean, it wasn't all sunshine and flowers at first. She knew how to do a lot of things, but because of the randomizer she had no experience and had to learn everything on her own."

With a chuckle, Enalia continued. "Making tea the first time, she actually burnt the water and destroyed the tea leaves. She's able to tap into a set of enhanced cooking sensors in the kitchen now so that hasn't been an issue since, but still - it's one of our favorite memories."

"As for our dear little Moira, she's a curious little minx. She'll beat you down with that play sword of hers and scamper off to try and steal your treasures without a second thought." The light smile she had faded slightly at that thought. "At times I wonder if she has a bit too much of her grandmother in her, but then I see some of myself and Maica and even some of her great grandmother and I remember that the future isn't really written yet and she can still become anything she wants to."

Then Enalia switched tracks. "So what about you? Any family back home? Looking to start one?"

Tanaak's face brightened. "Some day. I left Vandor, my partner, back on Itthakor. I couldn't settle down without doing this for myself first, and Vandor wouldn't let me give up on it either. He knew I needed to see the stars and be a part of Starfleet and the Federation that helped push our world toward freedom. If he hadn't loved me enough to urge me to go, to promise to wait for me until I got back, I might be living unfulfilled." Tanaak laughed, low and warm. "Well, I say he's waiting... I have no doubt that he's faithful, but I know he's keeping himself busy in the capitol. Vandor has always been politically minded, and his family has a fair amount of influence. He's been on a tear for racial equality since the day that I met him, and I know he'll make our homeworld a better place than I left it.

"As far as children are concerned, I'm much closer to being an uncle than a father." The Oriasi's face fell for just a moment. "I'll probably miss my brother's wedding." He shook his head and smiled again. "My brother shocked our parents when he brought home a Rasalian girlfriend. They loved her, of course, and they loved that he loved her; they were just afraid of the prejudice my brother might face. It has been difficult for my them, but they want to have children. Vandor is fighting for a world where their family will be accepted. I couldn't be prouder of all of them."

"Sounds like you're on your way to an amazing family as well then, be it immediate or extended." With a grin and a nod, Enalia continued. "You answered my question about professional and personal goals pretty well, I think. What about hobbies then? What kinds of things do you do to de-stress and relax?"

"Well, back on Itthakor, I went riding with Vandor at every opportunity. On Earth, I discovered the delights of swimming. Here, I suspect I'll spend time continuing my physical training. I am quite fond of simulated martial combat." He paused, thoughtful. "That's not to say I don't have other interests. Vandor had an extensive library. In this age, an actual physical library! We spent hours sitting in a window tucked between a pair of shelves, reading to ourselves and each other. I liked romantic poetry the best; something Vandor found immensely humorous." The giant smiled, lost for a moment in warm memories that he could still feel and smell. "In the past few years, I've developed an interest in medical texts as well. Alien anatomy is fascinating to me. Discovering that interest was what prompted me to take the extra classes to go into medicine."

"From what I've read, you'll make a wonderful addition to the medical teams aboard the Hera. Your skills in emergency medicine in particular..." Enalia furrowed her brows as she glanced over one of the PaDDs on her desk before looking back up at Sado. "I can't promise you an actual library aboard the Hera, but I can give you access to the holodeck program of my library back home. It's got a fair few books from around the galaxy if you're interested in it. There's a lot of history and mythology as well as what's considered great masterpieces, but a fair few light novels and manga worked their way in over the years as well."

"I should open up access to the whole crew..." the Trill woman muttered thoughtfully. "I bet there are a lot of readers aboard."

Ensign Sado's eyes lit up at the suggestion of the chance to peruse a new library, even holographically. It wouldn't be the same, not because it was a holodeck program, but because Vandor wouldn't be there. He wondered if it would make him homesick to visit, but very much looked forward to risking it. "Thank you! I'm not very well versed in alien mythology, but I am interested in it." He smiled. "And I look forward to joining the medical team."

"And we all look forward to having you aboard," Enalia replied with a warm smile. "Do you have any other questions for me? You've somehow answered all of mine without me having to ask them."

Tanaak raised a hand to his head and trailed his fingers over the ridges on one of his curled black horns. "None that I can think of at the moment." He paused. Family had been on his mind a lot during their conversation. "Actually, I do have one more question. I understand that security is a very high priority for the Hera, so I don't have any expectations, but I am wondering... how often is the crew able to connect with family off-ship?"

"While we have some of the most state of the art holo-comm systems in the Federation, actually getting to use them can be a bit more tricky since we're an Intel vessel," the Trill captain replied with a solemn nod. She understood the desire, though she rarely had anyone to talk with that wasn't already on the ship. "As I understand it, with mission requirements and comm system and local subspace relay loads, recorded messages are often daily for some people, but for the coordinated effort of a live call we tend to take time out only once or twice a month for them. When we're near a major communications hub."

The Oriasi nodded gratefully. Just sending recorded messages out would do him good. "Thank you, Captain. I'll be sure to make use of those times when they are available." He felt good about his position; about the people he'd met so far. The Spirits his people believed in were surely with this vessel; Purpose, Learning, Courage. "With that, I think... I've no more questions," Tanaak said. The first few words came out slowly, but he finished his sentence with confidence. Yes, he felt good about this.

With another bright smile, Enalia stood and offered a handshake. "Then once more, welcome aboard. We're happy to have you and again, if you need anything just let me know."

Tanaak stood as well and took the Captain's hand. As they shook on a happy meeting, she noticed that his skin was a little warmer than expected. "Thank you, Captain, I will." The genuine smile on the giant's pouty lips lit up his eyes. He bowed very slightly as he let go, not because of a difference in height, but out of a habit of his. He did it with taller people, too. The still rather star-struck Ensign was almost reluctant to leave, but as he headed for the door, he remembered the settling in he had to do and the other appointments he had to keep. He carried himself out of the office with considerably more confidence than he'd entered it.

While Aiva One had a clear and distinct purpose in her pre-programmed and made to order life, she had found a certain satisfaction both within it and outside of it. She had been designed for protocol services first and foremost, but her duties included maid service and assistance when needed, inventorying the on-board assets of Captain Enalia Telvan, handling any and all Artan paperwork correspondence, and watching over the safety of her mistress and her family.

On top of that, she visited the dining areas of the crew to see just how the Starfleet crew lived. She wasn't sure why she did that as it wasn't in her programming. Perhaps it was out of curiosity. Perhaps it was out of a desire to improve the lives of her mistress's own family. She had been able to learn thirteen different recipes so far and she considered expanding her repertoire of abilities a good thing.

This day was similar to most days but since the ship had just returned from a starless region that seemed to disturb the biologicals, she decided to log this day to compare it to others.

0500 - Breakfast has been prepared for both the infantile unit Moira and Mistress Telvan. She insists that the food be prepared manually, even if certain ingredients must be replicated. I have prepared a well balanced breakfast of a black bean and salsa omelet with blue milk and toasty bran cereal. Lady Moira still requires formula so I ensured that it was maintained at the proper temperature while Lady Maica fed her. After that, I assisted Mistress Telvan with the morning Artan reports while Lady Maica performed the morning tea ritual. She proclaimed that it was a rare blend and Mistress showed far more signs of satisfaction with it than with the breakfast that I prepared. I must endeavor to improve my services rendered.

0700 - Mistress Telvan has donned her Starfleet uniform and reported to the bridge. She and Lady Maica are extensively affectionate. I do not doubt that their love produced the infantile unit Moira. Lady Maica runs a massage parlor which opens in an hour and has asked me to see to Moira's daycare services with Lady Jaeih Dox this morning while she restocks her shop before opening. I will do so as my programming extends to childcare services.

0712 - I have arrived in one of the most peculiar work areas on the USS Hera - R&D. I am not certain if they do any actual research or development or if they focus on rearing and developing infantile units. I have developed a joke. I must log this for later use.

As Aiva One entered the R&D labs with Moira gently cradled in her arms, she scanned the perimeter and located her target - the Romulan woman identified as Jaeih Dox. "Lady Dox, I have come to deposit... drop off..." Aiva paused a moment, trying to realign her speech patterns to those of biological norms even as the tyke giggled and gleefully beat on her with her green toy sword. "I am here to drop off Moira into your care."

"Jaeih or Mrs. Dox is more than acceptable, Aiva." the elder Romulan in the blue uniform said as she stepped over, placing her coffee and a PaDD she was reading down on a nearby workstation. The bay was more chaotic looking as usual as plastic sheeting covered part of the entrance to the locker rooms, all areas being reconstructed into a new, detachable flight unit dubbed 'Daycare One."

As she did with Maica and the ship's EMH, Jaeih chose to not treat Aiva in any way differently than she would anyone else on the ship, though she also always accounted for the variable that Avia was an artificial life form and had different ways of communicating.

"Have your morning routines gone well thus far?" Jaeih asked as she gently took the pale greed baby in her arms, hoisting Moira up over her shoulder and taking the moment to talk to the Captain's protocol assistant.

"Affirmative, Mrs. Dox. Mistress Telvan did not seem displeased with the breakfast I provided for her, however I did note that she did not seem pleased with it either. I surmised that this was because she was still running her startup... She was still waking up. Her and Lady Maica were up late last night."

"Indeed. Excellent observations," Jaeih said with the hint of a grin as the implication. "Always consider the factors involved. Also, in my experience, the Captain is not overtly emotive when she is focused. If you require more feedback, I would suggest asking what she thought when you are relatively certain she is awake enough to properly process the question. Let her know that it is important for your development and future service to know such things."

The cybernetic life form processed this for a moment before replying. "I thank you for your suggestion. I will take it under advisement and proceed accordingly. Do you require my assistance with any of your duties or tasks before I depart?"

"Thank you for the offer, but I have everything under control." Jaeih said with a nod and a smile. She had no need to mask emotions around the young synthetic lifeform, and understanding how Aiva process information, realized that expressions like a smile helped her to learn. "And thank you again for bringing little Moira over. It has saved me time."

Aiva smiled back with her eyes almost closed, head tilted slightly, and her face lit up perfectly with joy, which she had been programmed to do quite well as she and the Artan maids at the fortress had been modelled after quite a beauty nearly fifty years ago and the original programmer wanted at least that to look natural. "I am here to serve. If you have need of me, please do not hesitate to call."

Aiva then stood there for several moments, trying to transfer directly to another part of the ship before she remembered she was an android now and she couldn't do that like her counterparts back on the fortress. "If you will please excuse me." With that, she turned and left, the skin around her cheekbones feeling warmer for some odd reason.

0730 - I have once more reported to the ship's galley to assist with cooking and to learn new recipes. The head chef is not the most friendly, but he's promised that if I can follow orders and work hard, he'll teach me all that he knows. Today's main line entrées are vegetarian stir fry dishes from six different Federation worlds and seafood croquettes. I will endeavor to do my best and expand my functionality.

1045 - Ship's galley supplemental - the main line meals are prepared and I have been asked to assist in the preparation of the deserts. I am to mix the batters for brownies, cakes, and puddings while he preps them for baking and the artisan chef finishes them after baking. I will observe both processes as I am able.

1200 - I have completed my duties in the ship's galley and am now taking Mistress Telvan's lunch to her. Every day that I do so, I must receive authorization from the bridge. Today is no different. I understand the need for security as this is an intel vessel. I make my visits quick and if my requests are denied, I have discovered that use of the conference room stairs from deck two is still authorized to catering personnel and I may be able to deliver her meals that way. As she is currently in the conference room, I am altering my standard route to test this theory now.

Arriving through the service entrance of the bridge conference room, Aiva One excused herself and found Captain Telvan thankfully alone and staring out one of the large bay windows. "Mistress Telvan, pardon me, but I have your lunch for today, as well as a refill of your tea. Is this an acceptable location for you to dine in?"

Lightly startled at the disturbance, Enalia turned to look at the Trill catgirl android maid that had been assigned to her by the Artans. With a soft smile, she nodded. "Here is fine Aiva. And again, you can just call me Captain Telvan or Enalia. Especially when we're alone."

"Understood Mistress. However, you are my Mistress, so calling you anything else would be improper," Aiva replied as she set the box she carried down and began laying out Enalia's lunch. "Today, with the aid of the galley staff, I have prepared a selection of mushroom and vegetable stir fried noodles with Bolian crab croquettes. As a side, I have prepared something called hot and sour soup. Today's white ginseng tea was prepared by Lady Maica."

Having laid out the meal before the Trill woman, she stepped back and stood at rest next to the wall. "Please let me know if there is anything you may need."

"Thank you, I will," Enalia replied as she started eating, a slightly uncomfortable silence settling over the room.

A few minutes into the meal, Aiva spoke up. "Mistress Telvan, if I may, I have a query that requires your attention to further my development and aid my future service to you." With a nod from the captain, the android maid pressed on. "You neither seem pleased nor displeased with the food I prepare for you, yet you always seem pleased with the smallest of consumables that Lady Maica provides for you."

Here the cybernetic woman paused, now no longer sure of herself and her line of questioning. Instead, for some reason, how she wanted to ask the question started going haywire and was now all confused.

Thankfully, Enalia picked up the cue and ran with it. "And you want to know why that is?" This time it was Aiva's turn to nod in reply. "Well, love is an imperceptible ingredient. It took some time for Maica to figure it out too, but once you do, it adds something special to the food. Also, don't try making food more healthy. You're adding protein powder to my oatmeal, aren't you?" she added with a grin.

"Yes, Mistress, I have been," Aiva replied, that same odd warmth from earlier returning to her cheeks as she replied. "I will refrain from doing so in the future."

"Thank you," Enalia replied with a wide grin, recognizing a blush when she saw one and never having expected it on Aiva. "Your cooking is good, it's just that it's the same as the rest of the cooking at the Fortress or in the galley. In time, you'll improve and find that secret ingredient and then you'll be on par with Maica or any other master chef in the galaxy. I guarantee it. You just need to practice and give it time, ok?"

"Yes, thank you for your guidance." With a bow, Aiva smiled that perfect smile of hers.

Then Enalia glanced at the time. "I'd better finish quickly. I have a meeting soon and I'm sure you have duties to attend to other than watching me eat and waiting to clean up after me."

"It's no trouble, I have plenty of time, Mistress," the cybernetic woman replied with another bow. She had much to process and standing here was the perfect time to do it.

After a few more bites, Enalia spoke up again. "These croquettes are really good, but if they had some sort of sauce on the side, I think they'd be perfect."

"Yes, Mistress," Aiva responded almost absently, before something in her clicked. Love wasn't a specific ingredient... It was how you showed your dedication and affection with the combination of ingredients. As her eyes lit up with realization, she bowed once more, this time deeper than she'd ever done so. "Yes, Mistress! I will endeavor to perform at my peak efficiency for you!"

Enalia just stared at her, a forkful of stir fry halfway to her mouth.

1230 - I have returned to Mistress Telvan's quarters for cleaning. Lady Moira is an infantile unit and yet she is able to generate excessive amounts of clutter. My programming tells me that this is the nature of young biologicals. I will endeavor to keep up with her clutter generating abilities.

1445 - I have completed cleaning cycle 47 since arriving aboard this vessel. I have added further infantile unit safeties in the cooking areas and around the ceramic display areas. I will now report to personal storage and perform weekly inventories of consumable and perishable goods in order to better schedule and plan for Mistress Telvan's upcoming meals. As Lady Moira is still an infantile unit, her meals are simple and require zero planning skills until her enameled calcium based mastication utilities are installed. That is a process I admit a certain curiosity and anticipation concerning and hope to witness the process. Do biologicals perform the task autonomously or to the parental units perform the installation?

As the synthetic lifeform entered the Quartermaster's offices to report in for the weekly inventories, she surveyed the inbound and outbound goods. It seemed to her that the supply and requisitions of everything from arms and armor to foodstocks was one of the busiest areas of the vessel and the constant bustle in these offices were proof of it.

It didn't take her long for her to find LtJG Th'thiasreq and soon she had approached him, waiting for him to finish with his current conversation. "LtJG Th'thiasreq, I am here to perform the weekly inventories of Mistress Telvan's personal stores and to ensure no spoilage has occurred. Will you assist me in obtaining the necessary documents for completing this task once more?"

The andorian turned with a look on his face that could only come from being a father of small children. Despite the weary look on his face, he gave a polite smile. " Just give me a second. " He said as he opened up a few of the draws before he stopped and withdrew a data crystal from it's resting place. " Here we go. " he said handing it to the android.

"Thank you," Aiva replied, taking the crystal and plugging it into one of the data ports in her arm. As she reviewed the data on it, another thought struck her - This would be someone that would know if enameled calcium based mastication utilities are bright in via supply or replicated in Medical. "I have a further inquiry, if you would indulge me. Infantile units. How are their enameled calcium based mastication utilities installed? Do you receive them through your office?"

The andorian blinked a few times as he tried to think of what she was talking about. When his mind worked out that she was talking about their teeth he gave a chuckle before replying. " No infant teeth will form naturally. They don't need them installed."

It took the android woman a moment to process this before she could formulate a response. "I find this dubious and must express my skepticism, however I am in a position where I am able to observe and confirm the veracity of your statement over time. I will report back to you once Lady Moira has obtained the ability to masticate food on her own with... teeth. I thank you for your assistance."

" Take care." The andorian said with a grin in his face as the android woman bowed respectfully and left. The people you met on this starship.

1900 - I have returned to Mistress Telvan's quarters. Lady Maica has retrieved Lady Moira and is proceeding to feed her, which is proving difficult this evening. She has stated that my assistance is not required and that I should prepare the evening meal instead. I have been ordered to follow the recipes laid out for me and not to deviate from them, however I am conflicted. My conversation with Mistress Telvan earlier indicates that I should infuse my prepared meals with an imperceptible ingredient called love. My research shows that love is an emotion and not an ingredient used in meal preparation.

Nevertheless, I will persevere. I have dedicated myself to Mistress Telvan and her family unit and I will... /ERROR/ Override. Reset. Unknown fault has occurred. Analyzing.

Analysis complete. It seems that an emotional simulation subroutine was added during my upgrades at some point and it has recently been activated. I will need to study this further. For now, I have to prepare the evening meal for Mistress Telvan. I do hope she will enjoy the white truffle pasta and Bolian goose I am lovingly crafting for her. The recipe calls for very little sauce on the goose, and I have noted that she prefers juicier meats so in this case, I will disobey orders and vary from the recipe by adding just enough to prevent the meat from becoming dry. I l... lo... lo... /ERROR/ Override. Reset. I expect Mistress Telvan will be pleased with the outcome of this meal.

2100 - Mistress Telvan showed appreciation and enjoyment for the meal and has complimented my expanding culinary skills. I will have to log this for future analysis. For now, my duties as her Artan adjutant are required. I will now process all of the paperwork that she is expected to review and have a summary ready for her in the morning. She may have retired as a Queen, however she is still receiving daily reports on the status of the empire.

2245 - I have completed all tasks for the day and the family unit has retired for the evening. I will now sit quietly, recharge, and process the day's events and logs.

0500 - I prepared breakfast as usual, but something is different. None of my sensors or diagnostics detect anything and yet I can tell something is... Better. Today while preparing Lady Moira's bottle and Mistress Telvan's banana pancakes and eggs I started making a buzzing noise that sounded lyrical. I also omitted the health standards that I was programmed for. Is this... Emotion?

'Return To The Core'

Opening brief between Farenia, Enalia, Naraan Seria (Captain of the USS Persephone), and Rita.
- They talk about several cloaked ships that crossed the neutral zone and headed for Galorndon core.
- USS Hera is to secretly investigate.

Bridge of the Iurret with Rendal and crew at Galorndon Core finishing their tests.
- Nothing is explicitly given away in their narrative until the end.

Arrival and investigation.
- Under full stealth, the Hera approaches at warp 6, passive scanners to find they've left but there's some Gaia level residue.
- Turns out they made miniature singularities and sent probes in and out of them repeatedly at the same place the station's core was located.

Science the shit out of it.
- Sonak, Thex, Dedjoy... Have fun figuring out that they were using what they learned from the Gaia data dump to try to trace where the Bifrost took the station.

It's a trap!
- A cloaked probe explodes, opening a tiny Gaia singularity which sucks at the Hera for several seconds.
- No harm is done, but the crew find out that there are almost a dozen more scattered about the system and they must be disabled or destroyed.

Side plot
- Due to the massive amount of stray cosmic energies, Enalia has an out of time experience and is thrown back to her own past and has to be 'rescued' by the White Rabbit.

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

Alternate concepts from Sabrina:

As the Hera arrives, Rendal succeeds in yanking the base out of the cosmic rift she had just opened to recover it. A brief spacebattle ensues, but Rendal uses the power of the station to open another cosmic rift that sucks the Hera in. However, no coordinates were entered, leaving the Hera stranded half a galaxy away.

Stranded in another quadrant, the Hera needs to figure out how to recreate the formula to open a spatial rift, and they know the information was in Dox's mind which is how Rendal got it, but Dox is still on Miradon with Mona. BUT, there's a perfect copy of the information that was in her mind still on the Hera: Kodria.

Kodria's core essence was made from the information downloaded from Sam's mind during the Gaia MindMeld, making her the best of Sam, Asa, Rita, Mona and Dox's mind. So she volunteers to help them somehow recover that information from her memory to open a rift to get back, but by the time they DO, it's too late to catch up to Rendal, who cloaked the station and is long gone with a superweapon.

-----------------
Azzie's Addendum to Sabrina's Concepts:

The Hera is tossed into the same 'core of the galaxy' place that Odin put Starbase 336 to rot so we have to find a way out on our own and warp travel is out because of destroyed subspace/too many suns causing gravity disturbances/etc... take your pick.

In there, we meet an ancient terror that predates the galaxy and we have to use cunning/guile to convince them to leave us alone or something.

As for Kodria, since the holographic copy isn't a full copy in order to hide in the Hera's systems and the core with the data we need is part of her subconscious, we'd have to have the holographic copy interface with the core we do have onboard in order to get at the data, which will forcefully format it so that the future Kodria can use it without issue as her subconscious personality core.

_______________

MEETING PLANNING NOTES:

The Hera goes to investigate the disturbances at Galordan Core. Rendal’s been opening tiny portals to find the way to get Starbase 336 back and succeeds, pulling her base back from where Odin took it. The titan is gone, but the samples and data remain.

When the Hera shows up, Rendal opens another portal that sucks the Hera in while she escapes and the Hera is whisked away to the end of the universe in a realm of slumbering eldritch horrors.

While there, the dreams of the dread horrors invade the minds of the crew, creating nightmares and hallucinations while they have to pull the portal making data out of Kodria’s mind and escape before they all go mad.

Because of her symbiont, Enalia is super susceptible and goes into a coma, her minds pulled into a horrifying vision, eventually saved when the Hera escapes back to normal space after the data is gotten out of Kodi’s head and used by Sonak to open a portal.

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

The Hera reunites with the GoDox fam and their new kids and after a short bit, they begin planning for Schwein’s wedding in Asgard while, maybe, Meowlth sends the Persephone to try searching for clues to where Rendal went with her cloaked Doomsday station.

In Asgard, the shieldmaidens are getting ready with Loki for Schwein’s big day.

The Asgardian fates, talking to Rita and Schwein predict that thanks to Hera, Schwein will have a mighty son, but cryptically hint… there is another. (Foreshadowing for French’s baby)

At the wedding, as the vows are about to be read, Rendal attacks with a small fleet of Warbirds and her Death station. There’s an epic fight on the ground with beamed in troops while she attacks, exacting her revenge while dragging behind her station on a tractor beam, the destroyed wreck of the Persephone that she throws at Odin’s citadel to pop it’s shields because there’s something left that she needs...

ONE last thing she needs for her uber weapon from Asgard, and the ground assault is a distraction while she gets the FINAL piece? Maybe the station’s records recorded with Odin DID with the titan, and she needs a piece of it to POWER her uber-Genesis-Gaia portal weapon? Like Odin kept it’s BRAIN or something?

We finally get to the Hera and go off the fight the station, which is going to destroy Asgard first before a right proper mission of destruction. Enalia on the Hera attacks the station’s shields while Dox in the Cherry Bomb, O’Dell in the Banshee and Rita in the WarChicken and a few other support craft go out to whoop ass.

In the space battle, Rendal reveals the last ace up her sleeve. Undetectable tracers she left in Dox that she now activates that enable her to beam Dox right out of the Cherry Bomb, leaving it pilotless, and then easily destroyed. As a result, everyone now think’s Dox just got killed.

Since the kids are BORN, Mona no longer has the ability to feel Dox from a distance like she did while pregnant, so she doesn’t know Dox is alive either. Dox is beamed aboard the station for Renal’s final “I’ve won, you’re my apprentice, join me” speech and they have their final sword fight.

Meanwhile, extra motivated, Rita and the Hera team begin just DESTROYING the station from the outside, (Rita tearing it apart, Devastator-Style. Tearing off canons and punching through to the warp core and severing the power conduits with her big metal hands. Bad ass shit.) which makes for a epic fight INSIDE as it’s all falling apart around them.

Dox is starting to actually win and Rendal reveals she had a force field on her so Dox can’t make a killing blow. They are separated while Rendal goes to activate her uber weapon. Meanwhile, on the ship, the GoDox girls CAN feel that Dox is still alive and Mona deploys the Getaway Driver and slaves it to Rita, telling her where Dox is on the ship because the Girls can sense her, so maybe Dox is rescued from the collapsing wreckage of the ship by Rita and the Getaway Driver, because it’s ironic and makes for a perfect circle kind of thing.

They try to beam Rendal away but with her force field, they CAN’T and she’s killed in the explosion as they fly away to safety.

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

The Son of Thor on Earth.

When Sexton was returned to Earth for court martial, he would be discharged, but plays the CRAZY card on French’s instructions and after a while, Starfleet Psych let’s him go. They go off and she had Thor’s baby a little while ago.

“Time seemed to stand still. The mere thought of having the thunder Gods baby had not even crossed her mind, but it was kicking the shit out of it at this very moment. Then it hit her. Destiny....."No. if i'm destined to have a baby, who am I to stop it from happening. Maybe that's what I need in my life to complete me. Doc, I will not require any contraception." replied French as her mood changed completely.”

Now she’s gone off and formed a creepy religious white-supremacist cult around the puppet child and Rita is drawn in to stop her.

With the tiny Minotaur, Minerva, on her hip, Ensign Briaar Gavarus trudged through the wide double doors of the flight deck where the Hera’s R&D department was located. At her side, was the significantly more energetic Fiona O’Dell.

Yawning, the blue-clad Tellarite smacked her lips, looking forward to another cup of coffee as the unlikely couple’s fuzzy babe rested her head on her porcine mother's ample chest. But that yawn was cut slightly short at the sight of something unexpected on the expansive deck in front of them: The mid-sized, J-Type freighter called the Khallianen, parked with a series of grav lifts and crates scattered about.

“Uh… what the hell is the L-C’s ship doing here?” Gavarus said, tilting her head and looking down to her picayune partner.

"Huh... usually she keeps it in the capn's secret pirate smugglin hangar, doesn't she?" O'Dell mused aloud as she replicated a cup of coffee for Briaar, in a brushed stainless steel USS Hera travel mug. Starting the process for a chocolate milk for Minnie, she scratched her head as she considered. "So why would she be bringin it oot here ta park and take oop our flight deck... ach, looka that, she moved the Thunder Chicken. I wonder if she's g'win ta say innything about the kill stamps I been putting on the hull..."

"What's she gonna bitch about? That's awesome, and isn't it, like, an ancient piloty tradition or something" Gavarus replied, inquisitively.

"Ehhhh, not super-duper Starfleet-y kinda thing to do, so she might object. I dunno, guess we'll find out, aye? Aye?" O'Dell asked as she brought the milk in to the sleepy Minotaur, who was less interested in food than sleep at this hour.

After a moment, the Hera’s resident Romulan former intel asset and the current guardian of the ship’s most extraordinary children, came through the thick, plastic tarp that separated the main deck from the currently under construction locker rooms. She had two cups of steaming coffee in her hands as the similarly uniformed civilian asset stepped towards the two unconventional officers she was quite fond of.

“Good morning, Miss O'Dell. Miss Gavarus. If you are curious, and you appear to be, my dau... the Lieutenant Commander... had a discussion with Chief Gonadie and the two decided that, considering that she has been divorcing herself from her split duties between Starfleet and the Artan empire, that the vessel would be of better use in OUR endeavors to convert the extra space of the break room, lockers and reclamation facilities into our proposed detachable evac vessel that Commander Paris affectionately dubbed, ‘Daycare 1’.” Jaeih said as she stopped in front of the pair and held the two mugs towards the pair.

“Your preferred blends. Shall I trade you for little Miss Minerva, or shall we stand here awkwardly indefinitely.” Jaeih said, with just enough sarcasm to be in-character, even though all involved knew how she felt about the pair.

"Black as the devil and sweet as a stolen kiss fuir me, 'more a dessert than a beverage' fuir me gal. Ach, ye spoil us, Mrs. Dox," Fiona grinned, setting Briaar's second cup on the table next to her before taking an appreciative sip of her own cup. Then, emerald eyes refocusing, O'Dell chucked her chin toward the meticulous matron. "Can we nae get ye a... what do Romulans drink fuir breakfast, mum? Briaar let me try the Tellarite breakfast drink once, and I think I'd get the diabetes before I's thirty if I drank that corn syrup stoof every mornin."

"As I understand it, her biology is uniquely structured to handle such excesses," Jaeih said, taking Minnie off of Briaar's hip with a smile.

"Two stomachs and a pancreas of DURANIUM, thank you very much." Gavarus bragged as she patted her prodigious paunch.

"Aye, and I'd have a stroke and die, so me point's still good, even if Herself here could chug two and still have room for a dinosaur omelet..." O'Dell muttered.

"And to answer your earlier question, the replicator has my preferred blend of brhon caelis coffee. The Lieutenant Commander programmed it in. It is a... Particularly strong Romulan blend." Jaeih added, lightly stroking the still drowsy Minerva. "It is... not for the timid."

"I'll take yuir word for it and nae try to end up in Sickbay wi'a heart condition," O'Dell grinned. "Alreet, so where's the Chief and the LC? She wouldnae ha' sent her ship wi'oot a sendoff speech or somethin. Although... given that's a freighter, she's got the engines to do haulin and pullin at impulse. I'll bet they could do wonders if we mount 'em at the back of the wee saucer we been talkin aboot, aye? She's be righteously quick, nay?"

"Totally." Gavarus agreed, taking a sip of her sugary morning concoction. "And me an' the Chief just finished changing up the interiors. Added these sweet, retractable little pods for their kidlets that would be perfect for emergencies."

As the two were pondering their initial thoughts, the double doors to the bay wooshed open again and in walked the family in question. At the head was the Miradonian chief of R&D, Lieutenant Mona Gonadie. Decked out in the same, matching deep blue uniform tunic as the rest of the women on the deck, she was fussing with the custom made diaper bag that Gavarus and O'Dell had gifted them for their recently born triplets.

Immediately behind Mona was the hover pram that Gavarus had designed with three sleeping chicks nuzzled close together, being pushed by their other mother, Lieutenant Commander Mnhei'sahe Dox. The two were clearly in mid-conversation as they stepped in, as Dox had a light smile on her face as she finished her thought. "...and I'll take first shift tonight if you need to."

"Ahh. it appears your team is assembled and... clearly waiting for us." Dox said as she noticed the three women and a drowsy, fuzzy brown baby standing in front of the freighter on the deck. "Good morning, Mother. Miss O'Dell. Miss Gavarus. Minnie."

Cuddled in Jaeih's arms, the miniature Minotaur stirred slightly, looked over with half-lidded eyes as she half-heartedly sucked on her sippy cup, and let out a tiny moo. "I believe that was a 'good morning', Lieutenant Commander." Jaeih said with a half-smirk as she patted Minnie's back.

"Clearly." Dox said as she smiled lightly. "Anyway... before I take my leave, I thought I would explain a bit, as needed. As Lieutenant Gonadie could use the resources and structural materials, we're donating my old personal ship here for you all to do with as you need. As for the Thunderchicken, it's simply down on the main deck for right now, so fear not. All is well."

"In fact, some of the other pilots are rather envious admiring the... ah... personalizations. You're becoming quite the celebrity among the flight crew, Ensign O'Dell." Dox added with a legitimate smile, extremely proud of the young officer who was quite the flying ace.

"I'm not overly fond of them myself, but they're a tradition and you've earned them. You've definitely performed some amazing feats that even I would be hard-pressed to... Ahem..." Mona glanced off towards the construction area that had been set up as she pulled out a PaDD. No true Miradonian would admit that someone was a better flyer than they were and Mona wasn't about to do that, but she had to admit that the picayune pilot was impressive. "You've impressed me with your flight skills," Mona added, her feathers on her head ruffling slightly as a bit of extra color tinged her cheeks.

Glancing at her bond-mate with a bit of a knowing smile, Dox knew very well that Mona was more than a little defensive of her flying skills and those feathers ruffled more than once at Dox's own combat maneuvers at the helm of the Hera.

"Well, tis high praise indeed comin' from ye, mum," O'Dell offered a bit bashful at the unexpected praise. "I'll strive to keep it oop, and make ye proud, aye?

The brightly plumed Miradonian then motioned towards the J-type ship sitting on the deck. "As for the ongoing construction, as we've been relegated to the bottom of the industrial replication queues and we're not authorized to modify the saucer's superstructure or outer hull in any way, we figured that reconfiguring an entire section of the R&D lab to break away and be able to fly out of the hanger using the majority of the Khallianen would satisfy those requirements. So far, my modified plans have been approved and we can continue."

"Excellent." Dox said as she leaned down to kiss each of their three children on the heads, who were just now beginning to stir in their stroller and groggily wake up. "Then I'll leave you to it. I need to get down to my own office and attend to my duties. I'll see you and the girls for lunch."

"I will await you with every fiber of my being," Mona replied with a grin as she leaned in for her own kiss.

With a surprisingly nimble hop and a bit of cooperation from Gavarus, O'Dell leapt into Gavarus' arms. Caressing the porcine woman's cheek, the midget Mariposan fluttered her lashes at the tall Tellarite. "Will ye wait an eternity fuir me, m'love?"

Looking back at O'Dell, Gavarus then looked away, holding her head to her forehead dramatically. "Only until lunch, for then I shall hunger, and I can wait for you no more."

"Alas... our love is not eternal..." O'Dell swooned as well, and both froze in place to eye their superiors with mischief.

Raising an eyebrow, Dox was doing her level best to contain the clear and obvious smile that was trying to force its way across her face, but failing miserably. With a light chuckle and a shake of her head, she returned Mona's kiss and replied to the comical display, "Heh. I think I liked it better when you were both afraid of me."

Nodding to the team, the Romulan flight chief noticed that her stern and authoritarian mother was flush green in the cheeks and her eyebrows were knitted as it appeared she was holding little Minnie up to block anyone from seeing that she, too, was doing her best to not laugh. "Ladies."

And with that, Dox stepped back out, leaving the team to their own devices.

Mona was still doing her best to get her feathers to lay still as she tried not to chuckle and pretended to remain focused on the PaDD in her hand. "Well, we have a lot of work to do today. There's designing and testing of the new EVA cold-weather modifications, a final performance review of the remote pilot interface in actual combat, and preplanning for the deconstruction of the Khallianen and modification of the R&D main offices into the Daycare One vessel using the already approved construction routes. I've drawn up the initial modified plans, but there's still a lot missing."

Just then there was the sound of fluttering wings and a red and black streak went past her head right towards Jaeih, followed by a blue-green, then a golden ball of feathers. "But first it seems my chicks want to stretch their wings..."

Their 'flight' was somewhat short-lived and haphazard due to their ever-increasing weight, but they never-the-less caught just enough air to make it to their grandmother. With a slightly surprised expression, Jaeih did her level best to catch all three of them who clearly wanted hugs, or to play with the miniature minotaur in her arms.

"I swear, you three seem bound and determined to challenge me at every turn. "Jaeih said as she stumbled back slightly, now struggling with four children all grappling to her in different states of stability. "Miss... Gavarus. If you would please assist me with Minerva for a moment, I shall get these children... corralled. Perhaps with the rec area under construction, the common area of the Khallianen itself will serve."

As Briaar leaned in and deftly plucked the grinning and happy Minnie off of Jaeih's side, it freed the elder Romulan to begin collecting her three grandchildren a bit. Tucking the most rambunctious of the flyers, the black and red plumed Hlai'vana, under one arm, she deftly hoisted up the golden feathered Amihan with her other arm while the curious, teal feathered Tala was literally climbing down Jaeih's leg like an explorer on a mission.

"Dang, it's still hard to believe they can ACTUALLY... kinda... fly, chief." Briaar said, putting Minnie on the deck so she could stand on her own for a moment and hopefully engage with the chicks a bit as a distraction. "I kinda thought you were just, ya' know, exaggerating or something. How much longer do you think they'll be able to pull that off before they get too heavy?"

"Indeed." Jaeih said as she began replacing the girls in their pram and buckling them in for safety, despite their pouting protests. "They seem bound and determined to successfully deny their denser, Romulan bone structure down to the last, in spite of how quickly they seem to be growing."

"I was able to fly until I was almost three so I suspect they'll keep trying until at least then, though actually getting airborne?" Mona couldn't help but chuckle as she plucked Tala off and ruffled her feathers a bit. "Estimates say three to six months old. And they'll remember most of this as well, though I suspect not the words. Most of what I remember is flying with my family, catching and eating bugs. That sort of thing."

Sensing the greatest struggle was with the black and red plumed Hlai'vana, the diminutive O'Dell attempted to pry her loose from Jeih, only to be met by a shriek that sounded remarkably like a hawk, and some clawing from hands which fortunately lacked talons, at least so far. "Whoh noow, eeeeasy does it... I was joost tryin' ta help, nobody g'win ta hurt your Gran, aye? Shhhhh, shooosh, s'alreet..."

Being taken slightly aback by the display, as Jaeih got Tala in the stroller and with Ami behaving well enough, she turned her attention to what had just occurred. "Hlai'vana! KLA khia!"

Not quite shouting, the stern-faced grandmother narrowed her eyes and raised and eyebrow at her misbehaving granddaughter, who immediately reacted as her copper-colored eyes went wide and she settled down quickly.

Turning to O'Dell for a moment, Jaeih nodded. "My apologies, Miss O'Dell. She is quite... rambunctious... but has not done anything quite like this before, and they reply to either Romulan or Miradonian a bit more than Federation Common at this point."

"But..." Jaeih's attention was now fixed back on little Vana, "She must learn to behave. Especially with your aunt Fiona and aunt Briaar. Now, you apologize to aunt FIona this instant, little one."

For a moment, the tiny little warbird pouted in her grandmother's arm petulantly before looking over to Fiona as her eyes got large again and what looked like guilt set in ever so slightly, if only because she had been reprimanded. "So'wy."

This time it was Fiona's turn for her eyes to go wide as saucers. "They kin fly and they kin TALK?!?"

"Of course, Ensign," Mona replied, her grin widening with pride. "Miradonians are blessed by two moon goddesses and evolved from the greatest of all birds of paradise ever to grace this galaxy. We can fly for our first few years, we're born with knowledge of language, we have rudimentary touch telepathy which is stronger with family, we mate for life, and unlike most races who can only see three to five segments of the color spectrum, we're able to see twenty three. Because of that our doctors and engineers need very little in the way of scanning technology and our ships have only rudimentary sensors since we can just... you know... look out a window."

"Our mating and healthcare practices as well as flight, security, and food preparation are also highly advanced, however..." here is where Mona lost a bit of the wind under her wings. "In many other regards Miradonian culture is far behind the Federation standards. Even with our healthcare, our life expectancy rarely exceeds seventy rotations. Those that leave Miradon often lose the luster of their plumage within a few years or go crazy from the visions of space radiation. Plus there's the threat of hunters."

"I am still aghast at that concept." Jaeih said, pitting Ami in the stroller next to Tala while holding Vana for a moment more. "A sentient people hunted as food. I almost couldn't believe it when were there. I was prepared to have to break several interstellar laws had anyone even considered that in our presence. That said, let me take the children and get them settled so you all can work."

Jaeih strapped Vana next to her sisters before turning to little Minne. "Minerva, my dear. Would you like to help me push their stroller?"

"Yay!!!" The miniature Minotaur said excitedly as she waddled over to the handle which was just low enough for her to reach.

"Lieutenant Gonadie, I have provided several engineering notes on my suggestions for the project on your PaDD and will be able to confer once the children are a bit more calm." Jaieh concluded as they began to head off to the smaller ship on the deck that was equipped with a small play area and cribs for the children to sleep.

Watching the scene, the little leprechaun's eyebrows knitted together. "Soo... we all came to work... brought our kids with us... then they were all hustled off by their governess so's they could be tended to as we get to work, while they're nearby. Huh... I must admit, I dinna expect this kinda experience raisin children on a Starfleet vessel. S'nice, ennit? I could get used to this..."

"It is," Mona replied softly, gazing off in the direction they had gone for a moment with a soft smile on her face before recomposing herself. "Ah, but there's work to be doing. We've already disassembled enough bulkheads to build Daycare One, but there's going to be a lot of tight squeezes. That means pre-assembling a lot of sections and having our smallest team member do the final assembly."

With that, Mona headed to the nearest stack of PaDDs and copied the new plans over, handing them to Fiona and Briaar. "The main offices aren't large but with this and some easy conversion of the Khallianen's parts, we should be able to just disassemble her and reassemble her with the parts we already have into almost the ship we already designed minus the manipulator arms, giving us a ship just larger than an Arrow class runabout with twice the internal space and still usable offices."

"Can we no store the arms here and here... ah, no, ye've allotted those fuir essential equipment storage, and yuir right, yuir right..." O'Dell was peering over the plans, making connections and drawing conclusion Mona had already arrived at, thus her statement. "Maybe... nae, nae... damn the luck mum, yuir right. We joost dinna hae the space fuir the arms... less we build 'em inside Daycare 1 to be retracted back in?"

"Yeah." Running a finger over her chin as she looked at the plans, Gavarus leaned over O'Dell and pondered the issue. "What about the undercarriage area? I mean... could we place the mechanics for the arms where the landing struts are now and retract the mechanics in THERE? I mean... they could fold back up and serve the exact same purpose when not in use?"

"Landing gear as waldoes, that's brilliant, Gavarus!" O'Dell gently elbowed the tall Tellarite in the tummy. "Aye, then they were necessary innyways, we're joost makin' 'em multifunctional."

"An excellent idea. It would give a reason to add rear arms to the craft to stiffen the support struts as well." Mona started tinkering with the idea on her PaDD immediately, reconfiguring the plans as best she could on the tiny screen. "Yeah, if we used the reinforced joints from the War Chicken, it should work out."

"Yeah. We would totally use those. And we don't even need to worry about getting parts if we refab the backups we were working on for the Chicken." Gavarus said, circling around to look over Mona's shoulder now as she looked at her own PaDD to check the files, including the notes from Jaeih.

"Aye, they dinna need much in the way of joint mobitity at the base so long as they themselves are flexible enow to be proper waldoes. So what're we thinkin for the design? Cabbled tentacles or a series of swiveling joints like a serpent?" Leave it to the practical pilot to ask some of the basic questions of the design, at the stage where so much of it was still theoretical. "The landin' strut doubles as the manipulator, so we've got to keep an eye to both in the design, aye?"

"My thought's would be something that would be analogous with a standard, YOUmanoid range of movement. So, maybe humanoid arms with unlockable joints for emergency maneuvers and swiveling the arms around all 360 an' shit." Gavarus added, looking over at Fiona who had completely mastered using similar mechanical limbs in perfect concert with her own range of motion in the various mech's Mona and the team had designed. "Since I figure we're going to either be using a similar control setup to the banshee for if you're flying her or for preprogrammed actions."

"Hey, check this out, guys. J's put down some notes for a secondary, internal power supply for life support and internal inertial dampeners. Wonder why she wants so much juice for the dampeners?" The portly porcine pondered, running a finger over her rough, stubble chin.

But before anyone could answer, her commbadge chirped and the stern guardian of the Hera's children and former Romulan cloaking engineer's voice came through the comm. "While I can hear you all quite well, I did not wish to yell, as the children are settling nicely. But to answer your question, the dampener enhancements are something I worked out on the cargo hold on my former smuggling ship. The dampeners can be activated in an emergency to essentially keep the children essentially motionless in the cabin no matter how turbulent the motion of the ship in an emergency escape."

"However, that system, even on a starship, is a strong power drain." Jaeih added, "Hence the internal batteries. I recommend placement in section 3, aft port quadrant C on the floor plans. If you have any further questions, I... shall be listening." Then, with a chirp, the comm signal closed as Gavarus looked down on her chest.

"Well... that's both cool and kinda creepy that she's listening. Good idea, though. What'cha think, chief?" Gavarus said with knitted eyebrows and a weird smile.

"I think her ears must be some of the best in the galaxy..." Mona muttered before thinking over the designs. "Yeah, I think we can make them work, but it'll take some doing."

"Well... we have the plans and now we have the materials we've been needing. Let's get this going." Gavarus said, a bit of excitement at getting her hands dirty evident in her voice.

"Aye! What's the request list for the EVA modifications? Me an' Briaar should be able to knock oot those tests while ye do some design wizardy, aye?" O'Dell chimed in.

"Aye," Mona replied, switching gears with a nod, a grin, and a slight chirrup. "As you know, the modern EVA and MACO suit is able to withstand temperatures down to negative 200 kelvin in a vacuum and one hundred forty kelvin in most atmospheres. We've been tasked to create a system where some fool... I mean... a Starfleet officer... is able to open their helmet for an extended period of time and either carry on a conversation or eat a self-heating ration pack without turning to ice while in a hostile environment such as the polar caps of Andoria or open space."

"I have a few ideas so... Guess who gets to test each one?" Her grin broadening, Mona looked between the two Ensigns expectantly.

In the R&D Design Lab, Mona had torn apart her design for Daycare One once more and was swapping in the parts of the Khallianen... as well as the spare arms for the mecha she had designed. They had run up against several barriers to completing the project and this was one of the few ways she could see of completing them. Rather than creating actual retractable landing struts, she reinforced the central belly of the ship to be able to hold the weight of the vessel and was looking for a way to make the arms retractable and reinforced as pseudo-legs to hold the craft steady.

It was an elegant solution and she was proud of her team for pitching in ideas that led to the design.

"The children are settled and taking a nap. Miss Kodria will inform me if that status changes." Stepping out from Mona's office looking down at a PaDD, Jaeih Dox walked over to her brilliantly plumed Miradonian daughter-in-law. "However, looking over the revised designs, we may have to adjust the height of the Khallianen down by... 18 centimeters to fit properly into the space currently being dismantled in our former break room. That material, however, can be used to reinforce the coupling joints for the rear stabilizers."

"And by opening up the interior to remove the main sleeping quarters, we can create more sleeping crèches for Minerva, Hermoine, and any more children that have been... affected by Hera's self-described 'aspect'."

"Hmmm..." Mona pursed her lips thoughtfully. "I'm not convinced that the chicks are affected by the energy fields she puts out. Their development has been as normal as can be expected of mixed species Miradonian births."

The brightly plumed mother then took in a deep breath and slowly let it out, finally admitting something that she had been worried about in the back of her mind, yet unwilling to share even across the bond she shared with the rest of her family. "Then again, most mixed race births always lose the runt. Plus, at the Aeries they soaked up not only Hera's energies but so many Moon Goddess energies... The whole place was awash brighter than I'd ever seen anywhere before."

"I'm sorry, it's just that I'm full of all these new emotions now since the birth and I think I got them from my Minay. They say that after the first birth all of your mindsets are shared, but now..." Mona closed her eyes and took another deep breath. "I don't think we have a proper word for anxiety and worry like this. I don't know how she deals with it."

"Well, Hera said the children had her blessing. What that means is anyone's guess" Jaeih said as she put an arm over Mona's shoulder and did her best to be supportive. "As for your anxiety, I... suppose I'm largely to blame for it in Mnhei'sahe, and you are now inheriting that less than desirable trait through your bond."

"But she seems to also be benefiting from your compassion and your adaptability. You both... make the other better, which is how it should be." Jaeih added, thinking on the subject a moment. "With her, I prefer her overworking to the combat training for management, though neither is particularly healthy in the long term. Perhaps it is a subject you can discuss with her to help?"

Mona nodded solemnly. "There was a time, even when I ran the Flight Control department, when I didn't take anything seriously or really take responsibility for the department. I just wanted to fly and help others fly. I just went through the motions of the paperwork and left the management to others. Now... I actually care and worry about other people..."

"That is good. There are things that must sometimes be said that a telepathic link might not properly communicate." Jaeih said as she looked at Mona with legitimate care in her eyes. "It is often said among our people that a word with only one meaning is a useless thing. Manipulation of that is a skill Mnhei'sahe is sometimes lacking in, which may be to her benefit, in truth. But still, when we choose our words, those choices say things we choose to leave otherwise unspoken. It will benefit you BOTH to speak of these troubles you are experiencing."

"And that feeling that is vexing you often gives Mnhei'sahe her strength." Jaeih concluded. "It has been a difficult lesson for me to accept as well here on the Hera, that caring about others is not always a liability."

"Yeah, I'll definitely have that talk with her," Mona replied with a smile, wrapping her own arm around Jaeih's waist and gave the matron a side hug. "Thank you, Nona. I don't know what I'd do without you. Now how about we see what we can do with these schematics for now?"

"You would flail about, blind to your own magnificent potential without my sage and august guidance, my dear." Jaeih replied, a warm but sarcastic smirk on her face as she called up the schematics on her padd. "I have... taken the liberty of setting up a construction schedule and filed it. I estimate that with these revisions, we can have Daycare 1 operational in 4 point 2 weeks."

"You've taken into account delays, better breaks, and accidents. My calculations were for two weeks if I put in overtime one day a week. You... You're better at managing people's time." Mona let her eyes lower just the slightest as realization came to her that she may have been overworking herself and her team just a bit. "I have a lot to learn still. I'm so lucky to have someone like you to learn from."

"However, the wiring you recommended for the gravity and life support with the secondary batteries?" Mona pulled up the specific schematics. "They take up too much room and generate too much heat. I propose a significantly reduced bank of batteries and a portable generator with output that can handle it. The generator has the peak output capacity, but it can't change output fast enough. The batteries can change output levels instantly, will only last a minute at most, but will recharge fast."

"It's a trick we use on small Miradonian ships to prevent power dips and I think it'll work well here."

"And an ingenious trick. As for before, I was in the Romulan Military since I was 19, Mona. I was a commander in command of my own ship for fifteen years. I am well trained in the intricacies of time and personnel management." Jaeih said, tilting her head and putting her hand on Mona's shoulder. "But the only way I could manage teams... deal with people... was in making them fear my reprisal. It is... a poor legacy Mnhei'sahe has inherited. But you... those two adore you. You inspire them to be better."

"Scheduling is easily learned. Inspiring... not so much, my love." the elder Romulan said, squeezing Mona's shoulder and she quickly brought the subject to Mona's more technical observations. "That said, your proposal is brilliant. ALSO well beyond the range of my own skills. That will reduce the heat, which will reduce the need for extra cooling, which means we can use that for structural reinforcing."

"If there's one thing my people are good at, it's designing systems related to flight and family. If people find me inspiring... Well... Then I'll have to keep doing what I'm doing." The colorful woman nodded solemnly and pulled up another schematic. "Like with the tertiary stress reducers of all grapplers on the mechas. Each one is structurally able to take seven times the weight of the entire craft for emergency landing purposes and for pushing something the size of the Hera without a tractor. I think that in particular is going to come in handy in this case."

Trying to calculate the kind of force that would require in her head and failing, Jaeih raised both eyebrows. "That is... beyond impressive. And when not in direct use, that power should be reroutable to shields and engines, I would imagine."

"The Khallianen's maximum speed with her retractable nacelles is, I believe, warp 8 with a cruising speed of warp 6." Jaeih said, a question coming from her tone, "However, I suspect you can improve that for Daycare 1."

"I was able to up the maximum to nine point two, but it wasn't the most stable or smooth," Mona confirmed as she pulled up the engine schematics. "With the power grid and structural integrity of the Daycare One, we should be able to push that to nine point five should we need to. We'd have to run some flight tests of course, but I'm fairly confident."

"Excellent," Jaeih said with a nod. "Then the primary remaining question comes in regards to the mentioned idea of the ship's... operating system. In an emergency scenario, there exists the possibility that I may not be... present when Daycare 1 is ejected with the children aboard or may become incapacitated. Which raises the question as to if Miss Kodria would be capable of being transferred to the ship in such an emergency scenario."

"I've already put in a request for my matrix to be transferred to the R&D holomatrix core on a more permanent basis," came the voice of the holographic future woman as she shimmered to life next to Jaeih. "The kids are all napping peacefully so I figured a little dual telepresence wouldn't hurt."

The elder Romulan former Tal'Shiar operative almost flinched at the sudden arrival of the unexpected holographic life form, but she contained any noticeable reaction of surprise and simply raised an eyebrow. Slightly embarrassed to have been caught off guard, Jaeih nodded towards Kodria with a light smile. "Thank you, Miss Kodria."

"Indeed, I've made sure our core is big enough to be able to handle all three of our holographic life forms plus some, if the need should arise," replied Mona, squinting at Kodria as she tried to focus on what she saw as a ghostly image. It was hard enough focusing on her engineering holograms when she wasn't using her modified emitters - the humanoid designed holographics were even worse for her eyes since those she could see right through.

"That is wise. I have had concerns regarding this issue." Jaeih said in a straightforward fashion. "However, I was of the impression that the data core that contains JUST Maica took up part of an entire deck of the ship. Have you improved the storage capacity that much that Daycare 1's core could contain all three programs intact?"

"That's actually just a rumor she likes to spread," Mona replied with a grin. "Her actual core is about half the size of a person and is tapped into the data and power grid under one of Enalia's couches. She doesn't even have any of her own emitters. In fact, from what I can tell, just about half of her hardware is dedicated to security and survivability, including a neutronium inner casing."

Kodria then interjected, crossing her arms in the process. "She may act like the most advanced of the three and her subroutines may be almost biological, but storage wise? She's constantly tapping into the databases for recipes, schedules, and general data. She doesn't keep any of that in her own memory. I do that to an extent, but I at least mimic biological short and long term memory for what I've seen directly. She only stores personal memories. Non-localized data she stores elsewhere."

"I detect a note of conceit in your voice, Miss Kodria." Jaeih said with the lightest of smirks.

Mona continued, pulling up the storage space comparison that all three took up. Maica's bar was only a quarter of Kodria's and Kodria's was a tenth of the Doctor's. "And then there's Doc Power. He stores everything. He's not fully designed for continuous operation so he stores everything. Every incision, every medical journal, every smiling face - he can recall them in perfect clarity. He's the one we've had to cater for. His matrix in sickbay is the size of a desk."

"I may have assisted in the improvement of the current system..." Kodria muttered under her breath. "So please don't tell anyone."

The brightly plumed Miradonian eyed the holographic woman for a moment. "Yes... Somehow, our R&D core now has four point seven times the capacity it did yesterday. I wonder how that could have happened."

"Well, as a woman for whom secrets have been a stock-in-trade, I can assure you that yours is safe with me, Miss Kodria." Jaeih said plainly. "And as a point of fact, the children under our care are... exceedingly precious to me. So The more resources we have that can ensure their safety, the better. And as Commander Paris has made their guidance and protection my task, I wholeheartedly approve."

"Now... If I may ask a possibly personal question Miss Kodria, as Daycare One will be an autonomous spacefaring vessel with said precious cargo, what are your qualification for flying her... in an emergency?" Jaeih asked, pointedly with a strange and somewhat inscrutable expression. "After all, as I understand it, one of your mentors growing up in your original timeline was my Daughter, so I have a high standard for this metric."

"Or... to put my question more plainly...Did Mnhei'sahe teach you how to fly in your timeline, or is that something that needs to happen in the now?"

"Ah... Yes... I suppose it's not a blatant violation of any directives to say that she was one of my flight instructors," Kodria replied somewhat sheepishly. "Or that I trained with a particularly rambunctious Miradonian with red and black plumage. However, to conserve space and because I wasn't expected to be piloting anything, most of that data wasn't copied over from the original me."

Looking at the slightly embarrassed looking hologram of a Vulcanoid Android from the future with a faintly amused expression, Jaeih raised an eyebrow and pulled up her PaDD and started typing as she talked. "Well... then you shall need to re-learn, my dear. And I'm sure that Lieutenant Commander Dox will be happy to fit flight training for you into her schedule. I shall move a copy of our schematics to a simulation file for the holodeck."

"As for my Hlai'vana. She will simply have to wait a bit and catch up, I'm afraid." The elder Romulan said with a straight face but there was that hint of pride just under the surface that Mona, in particular, could pick up on.

"I look forward to the lessons then," Kodria replied with a bright smile and a nod. This had been something she was worried about but now it seemed she no longer had a need to worry about it.

"I'll be assessing your skills as well, of course," Mona added, wondering just how good of a pilot she had gotten to be before she was tossed through time. "To both offer advice and to tweak the interface to your skills."

"A wise precaution," Jaeih commented before tilting her head slightly. Checking her PaDD, the stern Romulan looked back up at Mona and Kodria. "My apologies. It is time for the children's lunch."

"Today on the agenda with their meal is a selection of literature I have assembled to read for the children. 'The First Flight', a Miradonian text. 'The Quiet Voice', a Romulan poem I read to Mnh... Lieutenant Commander Dox... as a child. And something Commander Paris recommended called... 'The Cat in... the Hat'. Curious."

"As always, readings in multiple languages after the children have eaten. Then some play time. My afternoon is... quite well set." Jaeih concluded. "But if you have any further questions, you know where I shall be."

Kodria spoke up again, almost sheepishly. "Ah... If I may recommend a book as well? The Trill book 'I've got a friend in me.' It's not just for explaining the joining apparently. My mother read it to me and it helped me learn how to love myself."

"That sounds like a lovely book," Mona replied with a smile and a squint towards Kodria as she tried to focus her eyes on the holographic life form. "What do you think, Nona?"

Making note of the suggestion in her PaDD, Jaeih began replying, her eyes still down as she typed. "I think..."

Then, her eyes went up to the holographic representation of Kodria. "...you shall be as instrumental in caring for these children as I, Miss Kodira. When I raised my own daughter, one of the few elements that I can look back on and say that I did right was to teach her of other cultures. She learned not just of her own people and of our Vulcan ancestors, but of Klingon and Ferengi culture and as many that I could inform her of. It was my wish that she be free of the xenophobia that has plagued our people for millenia."

"As such, considering how frequently my goddaughter will be in attendance, Trill culture is all but a must." Jaeih added, speaking of the Captain's daughter, Moira, who in point of fact, would own day come to become Kodria's OWN mother and create the original, young android. "Thank you for the suggestion. I... will admit that Trill is a tongue I do not speak, but would welcome you to come read as needed as well. I believe language skills are vital to crafting young minds that are open, as is the task laid before me."

"Trill is a very... Diplomatic language. Easy to pick up the basics but difficult to master as the finer points are contextual," Kodria explained, her brows furrowing. "There are reasons Ferengi won't sign a contract written in it."

"When you can interpret a contract one of three ways based on the mood of the writer, I would assume so," interjected the brightly plumed avian, nodding knowingly. "The books on poetry I borrowed from the captain are some of the most confusing yet most enlightening I've ever read and after reading those books I'm not convinced that's not the same emotion to a Trill."

"Interesting. You may consider me thoroughly intrigued. After all, context and interpretation are... key traits to communicating with any Romulan in any tongue. I shall be paying close attention to these lessons myself." Jaeih said, folding her arms behind her back as she replied. "After all, I am not so old as to not be open to learning new things, myself."

In truth, while the elder Romulan was 75, that was only a third of her potential lifespan, making her still quite young among her own people. She did, in point of fact, look older than she really was and seemed to enjoy allowing the misconception to ride.

"Then I'll teach you everything my mom taught me," Kodria replied with a bright and innocent smile. "I hope you enjoy the game."

"I look forward to the challenge, Miss Kodria." Jaeih said with a nod before turning back to Mona. "Lieutenant. You know where I shall be and I'll call you if the children have one of their somewhat endearing needs for your attention that often occurs after lunch. Thank you."

"You'll know where to find me," Mona replied with her usual cheeriness. "I'm just glad we're not like the mammals aboard and produce milk. I can't imagine having to feed chicks like that." With a shudder, all of her feathers ruffled and stood on end for a moment before settling back down.

It was a question of Miradonian anatomy that Jaeih had never thought to ask about, especially considering how pronounced her daughter-in-law's chest was and that when she changed the children, she noted their own lack of the same anatomical features that mammals use in such scenarios. That, in turn, had the Romulan matriarch pondering unpleasant questions about her own daughter's sex life, which she immediately put out of her mind with a slight shrug. In truth, if Jaeih had feathers, they might have ruffled a bit in the moment as well. 

"Indeed. Thankfully, we procured considerably more ingredients while on your homeworld to provide their nutrition. Thank you." Jaeih said, as she stepped away, to check on the children. 

"I think that's my cue to finish up work on this baby," Mona said, nodding towards the holo-display with the diagrams of Daycare One strewn about. "I should be able to finalize these plans in the next hour or two and we can start assembly tomorrow once they're approved by command."

"And I need to start reviewing what data I have on piloting so I at least have a starting point," Kodria replied. "If you'll excuse me."

As the holographic Vulcanoid woman shimmered away, Mona leaned forward and got back to work on the blueprints, adjusting things here and there and tweaking what she could to load balance the ship, but leaving as many assemblies that were already whole in one piece when she could.

"This might take more than two hours..." she muttered under her breath, wondering if she should break for a meal soon herself.

The wind was blowing hard and extremely cold on the snowy mountain peak as two shapes slowly and inexorably worked their way across the frozen tundra of Andor, the moon that was the home to one of the four founder races of the United Federation of Planets, the Andorians.

Or, at the very least, an extremely reasonable facsimile on the Holodeck of the U.S.S. Hera.

The two figures, one quite large and the other more than a little diminutive, were Ensigns Fiona O'Dell and Briaar Gavarus. The engineer and test pilot of the R&D department were clad in what appeared to be customizable EVA Armor that was beginning to frost over from the extreme cold.

"Damn, Fee. The heads up display in my helmet is reading… negative 33 degrees Celsius and DROPPING. I knew it got cold on Thex's planet, but this is nuts." The two-meter tall Tellarite engineer said as she hunched over a little to block the wind a bit. "But the suit seals are holding and… I can feel it a little bit so far so good. How are you doing?"

"Well, I've got the internal heaters cranked oop, and it looks like they're already strainin," came the somewhat labored reply from the midget Mariposan, who was hiking twice as fast to keep up with the tall Tellarite. But of course, she was still doing her job as she did so- finding the problems in advance of future pilots in similar circumstances, to anticipate their needs and provide for them. It was what had started the R&D department, and now that they were branching out beyond experimental spacecraft, Fiona O'Dell was determined to accomplish the same degree of excellence she had put into the Hera's flight designs.

After all, she and her porcine partner might just end up in one of these, and the work she did today would be employed by Starfleet moving forward. So that meant little Minnie might someday benefit from her labors today, assuming their daughter joined Starfleet, as it seemed was a foregone conclusion to both of them, and that gave the diminutive daredevil a bit more will to press on in the cold. "Me fingers and toes are me primary concerns, and the suit seems to bed strugglin to keep 'em warm, as they are the furthest from the heart. So I might recommend some larger insulating boots and glove cvevers for the EVA suits to start with, maybe with their own independent power sources for additional heating. Maybe an internal heater for the faceplate, because the wind and snow keep coverin it oop. I know Commander Peek-at-me-arse is g'win to complain if she has to rely on suit scanners alone to see what's goin on, and flyin blind on instruments is a scary thing when it's one foot in front of the other."

"Yeah... good idea. I can barely see my wrist computer buttons in this shit ass wind. Thanks." Gavarus said as she called up the heads up display in her helmet, and with the aforementioned wrist controls, started re-engineering the suit designs right there. 

"Okay... so, with the strength enhancers, we can easily increase the weight on the gauntlets and shinguards to add battery packs. We don't want to RELY on forcefields for everything, so I'm thinking an insulated coil system in the gloved and boots to keep the digits warmer and an extra layer... no... two layers of that super-thin polymer under the armor plating to block the cold a bit." The portly porcine muttered as she worked Fiona's ideas into the working 3-D schematic in her heads up display. 

"Aye I like the sound'a that, just let's make sure the heat stays internal. As cold as it is, we dinna want anything meltin then freezin on the armor to decrease mobility. Maybe some sorts oil polymer coating on the external surfaces to make sure nothin builds oop?" Fiona, as always spitballed the ideas even as Gavarus interpreted how it might or might not work- thus one of the basis of their partnership as experimental researchers.

"Oooh, yeah. Good idea. We have that polymer coating we use on the joints of the Banshee to keep it from icing up in space or when entering an atmosphere. I swear, other Engineers may gimmie crap for using oils and greases, but I swear by them. Gimmie something tactile that won't fail just because of a power hiccup any frickin' day. Awesome idea, Fee. Annnnd... okay. Transparent aluminum mono-filament grid built into the faceplate to defog it and keep it from icing over." came the gruff voice of the Tellarite engineer over their comm frequency. "Annnnnd... implement revisions."

With the press of a button, the suits they were wearing, which were a part of the simulation, shimmered and updated themselves. The wrist gauntlets and boots got a bit larger, with a bit more mass, but as predicted the suit's strength enhancements kicked in to compensate. "How's that feel, Fee?"

Reaching for the phaser clipped to her belt, Fiona struggled with it a bit, but managed to get it out, get the power and beam setting adjusted to her liking, then she pointed and vaporized a nearby snowbank. Turning back to her porcine partner, Fiona gave a thumbs up. "I kin see, and I kin still work a phaser. So that means joost aboot any Starfleet equipment should still be workable in the bigger gauntlets, so winner."

"Alreet, noow that we're less worried aboot frostbite takin oot me wee fingers and toes, let's address fatigue. Between the winds and ploddin through snow up to me waist, I'd get tired fast. Maybe run the oxygen mix a little richer to compensate. Meanwhile, I need some skis or snow shoes or somethin to get me on top of the snow instead of pooshin through it. Even a boogie board would help in the right situation... what do ye think, Briaar?"

"Hmmm..." Gavarus pondered, going to scratch her chin out of habit and clinking on the glass lightly, which gave her a bit of a chuckle. "Yeah. Totally. Let me... hmmm."

Reaching around to her back where the currently larger power pack was located, the tubby Tellarite found the flexibility of the arms with the current armor a bit limiting. "Okay... we could make them something replicable, but screw that. Too much can go wrong. So... something that can be magnetized to the armor but out of the way normally and not too heavy."

"Computer... project a touch screen drawing surface in front of me. I need to doodle. And... ya' know... pause the crazy weather until I say so." Briaar said as, with a chirrup, the wind slowed to a halt and a holographic screen not unlike a whiteboard appeared in the air in front of her. "Okay... so... something that can... double as snowshoes and maybe... even like a boogie board."

As she spoke, she started doodling with her finger on the holographic surface. As she did, she muttered to the computer. "Okay... Computer. Extrapolate from the drawing. Two, connectible planks, 5-degree incline on the front, and rear edges as shown in the drawing. With magnetic boot interlocks here... and... retractible cleats. Use... use that poly-alloy we're using for the interior plating on the cockpit of the Banshee that's frost resistant. Black for now. Magnetic link in the center. Maglock fasteners here... and here. And. Close screen and render at 35 poooooooint 5 centimeters long."

A few seconds later, with a chirrup, the drawing pad vanished and what appeared to be a long, wide shovelhead appeared in the air between the two Ensigns and fell, flumping in the snow before them. With a grunt, the pudgy porcine bent over, picked it up and wiped the snow off of it. "Sweet. Okay, check this shit out. Your idea, but two in one. Right now, It can be used like a small boogie board or a kneeboard. You can slide on it and it will maglock to your suit's kneepads. Slide the two sides apart like this..."

As she spoke, Gavarus pulled up on one side and down on the other and the two sides separated. "... and they can be mag-locked to the sides of your thigh armor for out of the way storage. Then, slap them on your feet, the cleats will pop out and WALL-A, snowshoes. Try 'em out."

"Fook yeh, lookit me clever engineer!" The leprechaun's eyes were alight as she first strapped the pods to her thigh armor, waddling around in the snow for a moment to get a feel for them. "Aye, wi' the concave forward they dinna hinder ye in the snow. Alreet, field test.... they go back together..."

Taking the two halves off the thigh mounts and once again bringing them together, the picayune pilot figured out the clasp, snapped them together, then looked for the lock button. "When they're engaged together like this make the button pulse on a one second timer, to alert them to lock it doown," Fiona reported absently, knowing Briaar was taking notes. Once it was together, O'Dell set the board down in the snow, then knelt beside it, sliding it experimentally across the snow.

"Alreet, that outer plating will let 'er slide right nice, but the problem's g'win ta be sloowin doown, stoppin or wishing ye hadnae gone over that cliff. These're still hollow, so there's room in ''em for survival gear if we're judicious, y'ken?" Picking up the board, O'Dell tapped at the aft of the conveyance. "Maybe a piton launcher that'll slam into somethin solid, a hundred meters of line and a winch wi' enow power to pull, say 600 kilos?"

Looking at where O'Dell was tapping, Briar visualized the physics and winced slightly. "Piton, yes. But... the suit has a strong enough structure. If we put the piton on the sled thingy, it will stop and you'll either go flying or hurt your knees or something. I can..."

"Computer. Let's see a... 12 centimeter long cylindrical piton launcher... 100 meter cable... powered winch with a 600 k capacity, mounted on the rear of the lower back of the armor casing riiiiight... here. Thick as it needs to be to cover the mechanics and cable." Pointing to Fiona's lower back just under the rear of the armor immediately above the small of her back. "Gimmie my drawing board back."

With a chirrup, the floating screen reappeared and the excited engineer starting talking while she doodles. "Okay, check this out, Fee. We miniaturize the cylinder casing design from the grappler component on file for the manual recovery winches on the flight deck. Add a flexible spinal support from the rear armor to the hip armor with... this kind of segmented telescoping spine up the back. We fill the segments with the same non-freezing gel we use as shock absorbers in the legs of the Banshee and the Chicken and this way... when it stops you at speed, you've got max support."

"And we link the piton to the suit's tricorder and active area scanner so it doesn't shoot through the LC or puncture a giant boob or something. The suit's onboard can do an emergency area scan and aim and fire the piton under the right circumstances automatically, even." Gavarus said with a smile. "What'cha think?"

"I think it's bloody brilliant, and less likely to have an 'identify friend or foe' factor. Aye, put it in. On that note, lessee here.... still need some brakes on this thing though, because tis unlikely innyone involved is big on winter sports. Oi, that's one, retractable skates in the booties, because they're defensive blades as well if yuir g'wqin ta be eaten. Which we'll circle back to. So, brakes for the board or the skis.... maybe... fook, I got nothin, but we canna joost send 'em pell mell doown the moutain wi' no way to stop is all."

"Hmmm... yeah. Maybe... drag flaps on the backpack or..." Briaar was running a blank on anything related to skiing as she looked over Fiona's armor and the board itself. "Well, we don't want to be completely dependent on powered stuff, but we could work a... kind of reverse tractor. Maybe some kind of force pushback like we're developing for Minnie's Boffer Belt. That could provide some breaking force."

"We could design the little retractable cleats to be like little fins in the snow that can turn. Make them duranium and they should hold up to breaking force, or at least slow momentum down. But... how do... like skiers... OOH!" The portly porcine perked up. "We could also... put retractable stick thingies..."

Holding up her own arm, she patted the underside of her own wrist guard. "Right here, on the L-C's customized armor, she's got that big ninja staff thingy that extends so she can whoop on people. What if on each arm, we mount two handles that extend into those ski pole thingies that help you steer and shit? Make 'em with little lanyards to the wrists so you don't lose em?"

"Aye, and a parachute. Because if it dinna have one it needs one. Cleats- aye, there like toe spikes for climbin, aye? We should make sure they have those too. Maybe one a'them launchers on the back of the left wrist with the comm unit? Kin ye tell I'm worried aboot fallin? Ach, and what're we g'win ta go-" O'Dell's eye lit up and she jumped up and down excitedly. "A bubble! Like an airbag, a deployable system so's if yuir in an avalanche or something, once the gyros figure it out, floomf! or if ye go over a cliff or whativvir! A, ah, a survival sphere...?"

It was clear that the inventive miunds of the two misfits of science were on a roll now, as the ideas were coming faster than the eager engineer could get them designed and installed in their holographic prototypes.

After a few more minutes of back and forth brainstorming and tinkering, the projected suits had been updated with parachutes, cleated toes and gauntlet hooks for climbing, a deployable exoshell for avalanches queued into the suit's sensors, retractable ski poles, pitons and everything of which the pair could conceive. Creative problem solving was where they shined the most as a team, and they clearly enjoyed it, even under the extreme, albeit simulated, weather.

"Okay. Computer, resume weather." Gavarus said as, seconds later, the pair got slammed with the intense wine that staggered them both a bit from the force. "We got these add-ons and the suits aren't overloaded yet. The computer was programmed to give us shit to deal with like the away team might have to actually face on this mission. Wanna keep going down the hillside and see what else we need?"

"Aye," Fiona replied, gesturing down the hillside and beginning to walk that way. "Let's see what the local simulated weather conditions offer us before we start playin pattycake with the local-"

That was a when a roaring, ragged screech was heard, and out of the whiteness a gigantic rhemoraz, an insectoid polar worm a full dozen meters log, reared up out of the ice and snow to open it's segmented mouth and roar at the duo.

"....wildlife. Phasers y'ken?" Fiona asked, trying to sound calm but still clearly rattled by the sudden appearance of the Andorian monstrosity.

"SQUUUUUUEEEEEEE!!!!!!!! For her part, Briaar Gavarus wasn't particularly good at 'calm', and let out a loud and ear-piercingly porcine squeal as she leapt in surprise, stumbling onto her back in the snow.

"Gyaaagh!!!! What the effin' F***!?! Stupid... frickin'... Holodeck trying to make me test the crapper in this suit EVERY damn time!!!" Gavarus said, embarrassed at her initial reaction to the creature, in spite of the holodeck safeties being fully engaged, as she staggered to her feet and drew the phaser off of her hip. "I can't hit a frickin' thing with these things. Even with a wide beam setting."

"Aye, well, that's what yuir HUD is for, mate. Use it to triangulate the shot... if yon beastie'd hold still, at least," Fiona muttered as she was having trouble following her own directions. In a starship she could pilot it through the narrowest of openings at tremendous speed, and using the weapons systems made her look like a great shot. But here in the snow, in armor, with a hand-held weapon, O'Dell was no gunslinger to be sure.

Then, standing behind but leaning slightly over O'Dell, both intrepid inventors opened fire on the roaring beast that loomed over them both. The wide beam of the phasers blanketed the rhemoraz with a golden-red glow as it seemed to inexplicably be... enjoying the sensation as it stretched as broadly as it could, exposing itself to the full beam.

"Bloody thing is showering in the phaser beam. Crank it opp a few notches, aye?" O'Dell said with an exasperated tone as both women increased the power to their weapons. 

The reaction was unexpected, to say the least, as the creature began to writhe and contort, but as it let out a strange moan, both women realized it clearly wasn't in pain.

"Ah jaysis, I think he's sexually excited noow... crank it oop a bit. Hey computer, gimme one of those big honkin rifles the Security team uses," Fiona called out, then practically fell over in the snow as the weapon materialized in her hand. "Christ, this thing weighs a ton! Alreet, lessee here.... autofire, check, burst, check, rubber bullets, alreet..."

With all of that said, O'Dell managed to rip off three quick bursts of autofire, the rounds spraying wildly and not hitting the fearsome creature. Instead, in the distance, the echoes of the gunshots began a rumbling reverberation that both women picked up on.

"Avalanche?"

"Aye, most likely."

"Time to test the security sphere feature?"

"Bring it."

They reached for one another's hands, but the sudden onslaught of cascading snow and boulders pouring down the mountainside like a solid turned semi-liquid again swept them apart, as to be expected in such a cataclysm.

The instant they began to tumble, the sensors in their simulated suits recognized the danger and with a decidedly pronounced 'FLOOMP' sound that resonated above the thunderous din of the avalanche, the twin inflatable security spheres deployed and surrounded both women in a large, bright orange ball.

Immediately, both spheres were caught up in the flow of devastation as within, Gavarus began to roll end over end, her back fixed to the inside of the sphere. "GYAAAAGH!!!!"

"NOTE... TO... SELF!!! ADD... GYRO... STABILIZA...BLERRRRRRGGGHHHH!!!!!" She yelled to herself, curling up as tight as her rotund frame would allow within the sphere, trying and eventually failing to not vomit in her helmet as she rolled blindly down the mountain.

"Nah, better to let it ride. But maybe have the medical suite inject an anti-nausea at the same time for those of ye nae used to sooch things," Fiona replied once they had stopped moving. Taking the suit readings, she was close to the surface, so she collapsed the bubble, crawled up onto the new snowbank and scanned for her porcine partner, who had been scattered nearly two hundred meters to the southwest of her position. Strapping on the skis and poles, the lightweight lass began making her way to where her nauseous engineer waiting, buried in the snow as the vacuum in her helmet began clearing her mess so that she did not aspirate in her own helmet.

"Joost take it easy, Briaar, I'm comin for ye, aye?" While it wouldn't help Briaar calm down in the least,. knowing Fiona was alright and moving would at least keep her from panicking. After all, she was protective of her diminutive dame, which Fiona both acknowledged and appreciated. In this case, simply letting the big pig know she was okay would keep that anxiety from flaring up while she was marinating in her breakfast omelette.

As Briaar's bubble opened and retracted back into its housing, the much heavier Tellarite found herself at the bottom of a somewhat deeper crevice of snow made when her sphere settled. "Ughhh... this succccks. Just once, Fee. Just once I want to get in one of these frickin' suits and not purge from at least ONE frickin' orifice. What the hell."

The portly porcine lay prone on her back at the bottom of the snow waiting for Fiona to show up, but in truth, her tiny ginger partner knew full well that if Gavarus was griping, she was fundamentally okay. "At least... ugh... we're getting good data, right?"

"Aye! We're havin; ourselves an awful adventure. because that's our job, aye? To go oot and see what all's involved in gettin in over our heads like this. See, we do alla this so's the crew'll be prepared when they're in the thick of it like this. That's what bein' a test pilot's all aboot!" Fiona chirpily declared as she unsteadily skiid down the fresh snow of the avalanche, homing in on her partner's EVA suit's signal.

"Ooh, how are you this chipper? Hey, will you have a little barrel of booze on you like one of those dogs in the old cartoon holos?" Gavarus muttered, chuckling a little. "Ooh. Maybe I should design a flask into the suits."

"Alreet, turns oot ye kin use the onboard scanners an' computer to plot courses an' trajectories, so her we go.... hup!" With that said, Fiona O'Dell rode her skis off the side of the crevasse, tucking them behind her as the piton in her backpack fired, targeting on the fly from the onboard computer, as Gavarus had designed it to. As she fell, the scanners indicated the distance to the bottom, and the winch on her back whined until it brought her to a halt. The tips of her R&D blue skis were a dozen centimeters from the crested belly of her paunchy partner in peril. Grinning like a lunatic, O'Dell poked her bestie with the tip of her ski.

"Oi, rise and shine, yuir rescued!" O'Dell chirped, then retracted her helmet. The look in her eyes took about a second to go from cheerful mischief to panicked horror as she snapped the helmet back into place and cranked up the suit's heaters. "HAHHHHH SWEET MOTHERA MARY that was c-c-cold! Hoods! Masks! All available but retracted, cuz if the helmet fails some of us'll freeze to death right quick. I took one breath and I got brain freeze..."

"Hoods... and masks. good idea." Gavarus groaned as she slowly sat up and looked around for a second. Then, out of morbid curiosity, she retracted her own helmet and gasped for a second, holding her own breath. A couple of seconds later, she pulled it back over. "Y... yup. I'm... way thicker than you and... yeah... that sucked. Thermal netting in the mask for sure."

Raising her suits heat up, a bit, Gavarus tried to think about the engineering issues to distract herself for a second. "Okay... uhhh... new problem, Fee. The WINCH is strong enough to pull us both out, but... hmmm..."

"We... probably need some kind of emergency harness or line from one suit that can attach to another suit or... something. Some kind of rescue harness where the winch on your suit is doing all the pulling so your hands are free. Whadda ya think?"

"Gravity magnets in the palms of the gloves to offer a great grip regardless of grip strength," Fiona somewhat mumbled as she flipped through the suit's manual in her HUD, comparing the possibilities of her suit in such a crisis. "Says here the suits can boost strength up to three times, but that still wouldnae let me lift you. Hmmmm... maybe an ab mounted net deployment, like cargo netting? Might serve a number of purposes, but if it's anchored to the suit, that could let you hands-free the winch for a lot, aye?"

"Yeah. That could work." Gavarus said as she tried to scamper to her feet before lumping back into the snow. "Well... in theory... I might not be able to help you in an emergency, so it would have to work if I was just layin' here."

"Okay. What if the cargo netting has ends that can lock to the suit with... not magnetically. That would take too much power from the other suit systems to be strong enough." Gavarus muttered to herself as she tried to suss out the problem in her head. "OOOOH!!!! Hold on! I just remembered something. Hold on."

Calling up her own HUD, Gavarus began rifling through the ship's scientific library for a second. "We make the net STICKY! Not with, like, an adhesive or glue, buuuutttt, with Carbon nanotubes. They are microscopically fine and can line the interior of the netting surface can hold a LOT of weight with enough surface area. It uses what are called... how do you say that? van der Waals interactions. Like MOLECULAR surface tension that will hold fast if it's being pulled but can just be peeled off like tape when the person is rescued. It's... it would be like a big ass SPIDER'S web you could shoot out, Fee!"

"Fook yeah, and it wouldn't be affected by the ambient humidity of the snow and sooch, would do exactly what we need it to and might come in right handier! Briaar, yuir a genius! O'Dell poked her inventive engineer playfully with a ski as she dangled there, giving the Tellarite time to rough out what she wanted to design for the computer to upload and test. Once she had stopped tapping, she nodded to the diminutive daredevil, who then eyed the new canister on her stomach. Activating it, a 'cargo net; of reinforced interwoven net of carbon nanotubes spilled out over Briaar Gavarus.

"So how do we get it disengaged I guess is the question, cuz I'm feeling confident the web will hold ye- ah,Web deployment system, aye, that's a good name for it," Ever the innovator, the test pilot was always looking for a catchy name for a ship or system, to help it catch on with users.

As Fiona began having the winch slowly pull them up, there was a minor groan for a moment and the simulated rig was slow to start, hoisting at the very real 200 plus kilograms of combined Ensigns, but within a couple of seconds, they were slowly ascending up the snowy embankment.

"Oi, there ye go! Initial field test of the winch is a success!" Fiona remarked as Gavarus recorded the result. "Let's run like a thousand simulations and see what the fail rate is, see if we need to replace the winch or the cable, aye? Chief'll like the round number."

As small drifts from the top of the crevice fell back in on them, little more than a minor irritation, Gavarus pondered the question as she dangled underneath Fiona's legs. "This is SOOO weird, heh. Anyway, the surface tension pulling sideways is what's keeping me stuck. It would take a few minutes, but we SHOULD be able to peel the netting off slowly. Still... that's a pain in the ass, especially in the field."

"Hey, the stuff sticks with a molecular electrostatic charge. I wonder if the armor can be given a reverse charge to REPEL the netting?" As she asked, she worked out the science on her HUD. And after a long few moments, O'Dell's dorsal-mounted winch brought them to the top of the crevasse, where they were able to then use the suit's strength enhancements to more easily pull themselves back to more solid footing on the top snow, now settled after the avalanche. 

"Okay. This shouldn't even touch the suit's batteries really. Let's try it." Gavarus said as she tapped a button on her wrist-mounted control and with a faint buzz, the netting stuck fast to her came loose enough to be more easily pulled off. "Hot DAMN, it works! Frickin' sweet!"

Standing up and stretching her back out, which made her prodigious paunch pooch out significantly, Gavarus looked around at the windblown virtual snowscape. ""Well... I guess we better get the rest of this checklist taken care of, so we can get out of here and get a drink...Or ten."

With the sticky web still attached to her torso, O'Dell struggled to stand. "Aye.... alreet, so either this needs to retract like spaghetti, which we dinna design it to do, or it needs to have an easy unbuckle/detach, somethin manual as well as powered I'm thinkin, like a latch ye grab here, and poosh doown... aye, like that..."

As she improvised and adapted to what was needed, the test pilot relayed it to the engineer, who made the changes on the fly with the equipment they were using. The odd couple were a very far cry from those astronauts of old, and their craft was a far more fluid one, as they went from concept to production practically immediately. With the webbing ejector discarded, in the same manner one would in the field, the midget Mariposian and the towering Tellarite trudged on through the extreme snow, wind, and bitter cold, testing each of the suit's capabilities, and determining the suit's drawbacks.

Walls of ice inspired climbing treads in the gauntlets and boots. Permafrosted stones covering a cave led to glove mounted phaser cutting tools to be refined. Whiteout blizzard conditions lead to boosting the signal to produce enhanced sensor capabilities. A clever turn had Gavarus using the suit's systems as a mobile Transporter signal enhancer to enhance the success possibilities of emergency beam-outs. 

One challenge after another, and after a time the programmed modifications for the powered EVA suits that the crew of the Hera would be using for their upcoming mission of exploration to the icy moon of Andor were saved and ready for immediate real-world fabrication.

As for the two R&D Ensigns, they were exhausted, cold, bruised, and battered. Yet both carried themselves with pride. They endured what they had to protect the rest of the crew from those dangers. The bruises they carried were scars of battle, earned challenging the very forces that would challenge the crew. Bravely they had sallied forth to face whatever obstacles the computer could toss at them on the list of 'Top 20 Danger of Exploring Andor'.

And VERY ready for that aforementiond drink.

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

"Hey, c'mon! Where's our damn drinks, already!? Don't make me have to flag you down again!" Gavarus yelled from the raised table she sat at with Fiona in the Hera's lounge, lowering her voice as she chuckled to her pint-sized partner. "Seriously. I don't think I could wave my arm again. That was a hell of a day. My frickin TAIL is sore."

"Ach, I forget yuir nae used to field work, me darlin," O'Dell patted the thick three-fingered hand of the rough-skinned alien. "But tis alreet, we made it, we're warm and cozy and Mrs. Dox said we dinna hafta pick Minnie oop til six. How aboot that, eh? We even get an hour anna half after work to ourselves wi' this dealio. I am likin' what the chief's set oop for us here in the middle of alla this Staarfleet stoof. Our own weird little family unit, aye? Complete wi' babysitter no one this side'a Mary Poppins would cross."

"AN FOR FOOKSAKES WHERE'S ME PINT? Tisnae hard, fookit I'll go do it meself," O'Dell was in the process of scrambling off her barstool when the waitress arrived.

"Keep your short pants on, I'm here," the waitress snapped, then began unloading a rather loaded tray onto the table, declaring it as she set it down. "Okay, nachos, large, loaded. Jalapeno poppers, better be hot. Natty Ice, bottle. Make it two, save yourself the trip. Shot of Saurian brandy. Pint of Guinness. Side of black and tan in case you're feeling peckish. Glass of water for each, with straws because by the time you need the water you need a straw not to wear it. What, I gotta kill somebody for some popcorn around here, maybe a pretzel? I gotta kill somebody for some peanuts maybe?"

As she set the bowl of peanuts down on the high-top table, the bisected black and white beauty who had just sassily laid out any and everything they could possibly ask for, she raised her eyebrows up into her blonde bangs and looked at them expectantly.

Looking the tray over with a raised eyebrow, Gavarus was doing her level best to put on her best impression of their stern, Romulan babysitter and R&D Teammate, Jaeih Dox. But the mock indignation only lasted a second before she smirked and took a big swig of her first bottle of beer. "What? No mustard cheese sauce for the pretzel?"

"Are you kidding me with this? Okay, so the staff over here made me a bet. That you two aren't just impossible to please, but that you're contrary. So we used the computer to predict an order that would encompass everything you ever order in an initial order from the bar. Comprehensive, from a thinking machine smarter than you two." The black and white beauty snickered.

"You bust people's chops, and for what? Because they're in a lower station than you? That's not the Federation way, and that's not legal. We're filing a formal complaint against you two." The beautician cum bartendress stood defiantly as she spoke, chin up, as the staff of 10-Forward came to stand behind her in unison.

The diminutive O'Dell gulped rather loudly.

Almost dropping her beer, Gavarus' jaw fell open, and for a rare moment, the portly porcine was legitimately speechless.

At least for a moment. "Uh... I... uh... wait, what?! For what? You're pissed that I made a joke after you came out with all of this busting OUR chops with all that, 'What, I gotta kill someone for peanuts" stuff?

"You were b... busting our chops right back? We mess around, you guys mess around b... back." The temperamental Tellarite protested, legitimately upset as her cheeks went flush. But instead of trying to apologize, she defaulted to her people's argumentative nature and dug in instead while her nervous stutter kicked in.

"No, we're really not, the binary beautician smirked, a mirthless smile. "Being abusive to the wait staff may be fun and games for you two, but it's bullying, and it's illegal, and we don't have to put up with it on a Federation starship. The civilian services staff has put it to a vote, and with mine it's unanimous. You're banned from 10-Forward from this point forward."

The color drained from both women's faces as stunned silence rigned for all of five seconds, then both of them began to argue.

"Noow that's a bit extrreme doncha think-"
"Heyy, we got rights, you can't just-"

Which was when Petty Officer Jablonski, the good-natured mass of muscle who was often found taking duty shifts in 10-Forward, who was friends to both women, who stepped in apologetically. "They're in the right here, and if they kick you out, you're out girls. I'm sorry about this but you kinda made your own bed here. Now c'mon, just leave on your own, don't make me haul you outta here. Have some dignity, okay?"

At that, O'Dell looked to Gavarus with sad eyes. While they knew their escapades made them less than popular with the wait staff, they never dreamed it would come to this. Heroes facing the unknown, bruised, and battered for the betterment of the crew, now they were being thrown out of the only pub on the ship, and it had become a dark day indeed. Grabbing her Guinness, O'Dell gulped down perhaps half the contents of the glass- more than enough to leave her absolutely smashed- and with a wave of her hand encouraged Briaar Gavarus to do the same.

Standing there, Briar wasn't sad, she was angry. Angry at the entire staff of Ten-Forward for purposefully setting them up to make this happen. Angry at Ethel for not caring about any of it. Angry at the entire ship for deciding that Fiona literally saving all of their lives meant nothing. Angry at herself for getting her pint-sized partner banned from the one place on the ship she liked going because she didn't know how to act.

Picking up her own glass, she looked at it a second and seriously considered throwing the entire tray off of the table. Setting it back down without touching it, she looked at Jablonski with cold anger and hurt feeling that she didn't like having to process as she walked around the mountain of muscle to follow the diminutive O'Dell. "Yeah. Whatever. We're leaving petty officer. Everyone have a great night. Through an effing party. You finally got RID of us."

"C'mon, Briaar," O'Dell said, firmly taking the larger woman's hand in her own and taking the lead. "We'll nae darken the door of this pub again. If we're sooch terrible patrons then we'll find someplace else to do our drinkin." Already a plan was being formned in the mind of O'Dell, who could see how much the rejection from the 10-Forward staff had hurt her partner. O'Dell had expected it long ago, and today was a surprise, but not an unexpected one. But it seemed that way for Briaar, and when her big girl was wounded, Fiona moved to action.

Fiona muttered under her breath as they departed the lounge, their shame on display for the early crowd. "Start our own fookin pub and show the lot of ye how tis done..."

CMO Tovanna Mah called a meeting of all medical personnel to sickbay for a short meeting to introduce one another and famiiarize the crew with each other and their duties so they could work well with each other and to brief them of upcoming projects. "Thank you for taking a moment, this won't take long. I wanted to make sure everyone was familiar with the new faces that are authorized to be working within sickbay on a regular basis. I'm your CMO Dr. Tovanna Mah, my office is always open to you for anything you might need. This is Dr. Power, he was once our EMH program but, has evolved into a full member of the medical crew. Dr. Ironhooves has joined us and is an esteemed surgeon and the most recent addition to our team, Ensign Sado is our Medical Response Team Specialist working with both Security and Medical. Thank you both for joining us, your timing could not be better with what we have coming up." She nodded and smiled to all of them.

"You will notice there are a high number of pregnant woman onboard, please review the caseload so you are familiar with the timelines we are facing, Dr. Power has a full timeline with all contingencies included for your review. Dr. Ironhooves, since you are our surgical specialist would you mind taking the lead on any of our scheduled surgical procedures?"

"Already catching up on the workload coming in, and I should be caught up by the middle of next week," the centaur with the chestnut hair streaked through with grey in the Starfleet uniform top snorted. "Which I'm including time for emergency C-sections and birthing emergencies, which are bound to be happening with alarming regularity given the number of alien species onboard the the various crossbreedings that seem to be occurring. Who's our OB/GYN specialist?"

Tova looked at her fellow medical personnel, "Far be it from me to claim expertise on every subject. Dr. Ironhooves from what I have reviewed you seem to have have the most expertise in the area of OB/GYN, Family Practice and General Surgery. I can handle our Thoracic Surgery, Pediatrics, Psychiatry and Pathology. Dr. Power that would leave Opthomology, Otolaryngology, and Orthopaedics to you, with procedural documentation and additional shifts given your lack of sleep needs."

"Which leaves you Ensign Sado, if you would be so kind as helping with Pediatrics for minor injuries as permitted by your child development duties. The two duties should fit together well, you can of course feel free to call any of us in for larger issues. Can you please find out from Commander Paris if this would be alright as part of your duties, and do not conflict with your primary duties? Does this sound like an equitable and sharing of duties for everyone that they are comfortable handling?" Tova looked to her team to make sure she had the best delegation of duties to benefit the crew of the Hera, yet also her medical staff.

Ensign Sado nodded and spoke up. "I'll be sure to get that cleared, but I don't foresee any issues." The newest member of the team, the horned giant looked around the room a little shyly. "I look forward to working with you," he said in a deep, pleasant voice.

"Likewise," the cranky centaur muttered. "I'll coordinate obstetrics with you so we can minimize class disruptions, and I want to get physicals completed on all of your students. So we'll start scheduling after the meeting."

Dr. Mah smiled at Ensign Sado, "I'm sure you will be a valuable addition to the team." She looked at the entire team, "I also wanted to make you aware of one of the most valuable tools we will have for our Pediatric patients, though they are growing in popularity with the general crew," she pointed to one of the large apocathary jars of lollipops and pulled one from her pocket, "there are 501 flavors from multiple cultures and flavor profiles." She looked back at Ensign Sado, "I have a feeling you will have a use for these in your new assignment."

Tova made a note on her PaDD, "Any further thoughts, questions, needs? We can go over research and other side projects on a one on one basis."

"I'm new as well, so greetings to you all," the middle-aged dam volunteered. "I am Tyra Ironhooves, most call me Doc Ironhooves. Yes, I am the only member of my species in Starfleet, no, we are not a Federation world, no, you likely wouldn't have heard of it. Yes, they are shod in rubber when I'm onboard so as not to create thunder between the decks. No, I don't care for it, but like sharing a turbolift with you, it's a fact of life in Starfleet. I'm not fond of being assigned to starship duty for those and many similar reasons you can imagine, but I'm here, and I'll make the best of it. I'm here as a surgeon and a midwife, apparently, so feel free to call on me. I took an oath, and I will lend aid. Ask me anything. On that note, how long have you been practicing medicine, Doctor Mah?"

The low rank of the physician indicated she was either quarrelsome with her commanders or she was a new grad of Starfleet Medical. In addition to her looking barely old enough to have graduated just Starfleet Academy, it made the hooved healer step a bit in place, her tail switching a few times on her flanks.

Tova smiled at the newest addition, "My deepest apologies Dr. Ironhooves and greatest appreciation for your patience in my myopic oversight. To answer your question, I spent 30 years in private practice before many of my colleagues convinced me to join Starfleet. They seemed to prefer me in the field for easier contact. We'll see what they say in another 50 years." She smiled at the taller woman with nothing but a genuine professional respect.

"If you prefer a different duty to OB/GYN please let me know, now is the perfect time for our group to express what their areas of expertise are. Unlike large medical facilities, we have more leeway on how duties are assigned on starships and I want to accommodate everyone so we can work together as a fluid team." She set her PaDD down to address all of them.

"Not at all. I've midwifed hundreds of babies of dozens of races, and while it isn't my specialty it isn't one I object to serving. Not challenging you, Doctor, just asking for a reassurance is all," the chestnut mare sighed, another attempt at being subtle falling flat for her.

"Given the nature of our group we must work together in a crisis. That means that, despite the long lived existence of my species, I'm still small in stature, as are some of the nurses. Thus we must find the best organizational set up for our patient's and staff. We need to know how to work with each other in close quarters, extreme circumstances and any crisis that may arise with the limited resources we have on board. I'm open to any and all suggestions to make this happen, so we can serve the crew of the Hera. The floor is open." She looked around to her staff for suggestions or ideas she may have overlooked in her planning like the diagnostician she was.

"Football," Ironhooves stated flatly. When that got nothing but puzzled looks, her tail swished and she eyed the rest of the medical staff. "It's a contact sport on Earth. One side tries to get the ball across the field into the goal of the other team. Requires skill, dexterity, strength, endurance, and most of all- teamwork. Each player has their strengths, and the team works to use all their best qualities together while supporting their weaker ones. As a group activity for team building, it seems like a natural."

Tova blinked in surprise, "Well I was always a hockey fan myself, but never played," she looked a little nervous at 5'5" as she imagined becoming a squished mess during the game, "I have complete confidence we can do something like this." She bluffed her butt off with a smile and no fear because that's what a good leader does, have faith in their team. "Why don't I see if the backup medical team can cover for us so we can hit the holodeck tomorrow for a bit of fun as we get to know each other. Would that be acceptable for everyone? Read up so we know the general rules and then a bit of downtime before babies and boo-boos." She smiled at her team to see if they were all on board with the idea.

"So long as we're all on the same team," Ironhooves clarified, "we can work together against the opposition, and we're all medical professionals. So I expect we know how to avoid injury for the most part, and we can set the difficulty ratings in the holodeck. It's a simple battle of moving the ball downfield into the opposition's goal without using your hands on the ball, just your feet. Just my suggestion for team-building- anyone else?" The middle-aged matron was no swayback mare, and it was clear she was unafraid of confrontation.

"What about polo or a departmental relay race? Something where we could all be put on an even playing field and we can minimize the risk of injury?" offered Doc Power, who up until now had silently taken notes.

"I am NOT having one of you ride me while playing croquet," Ironhooves whinnied a laugh. "And how is one of you in a footrace with me in any way equal?"

Tova almost choked at the thought and hid it behind a cough, "Ummm no, that is not a recommended idea."

"Of course not - we'd be riding horses to pretend to be your equal," the EMH countered.

She looked at the others, "Please continue, this is one of the most intriguing brain-storming sessions I've heard since my days in pathological studies at the Mayo Clinic." She smiled at her team as they discussed options.

"Maybe you could offer a suggestion instead of just observing, Doctor?" Ironhooves suggested rather pointedly.

Tova smiled and nodded, "There are many options to pick from for team building activities. We could do anything from swimming to karaoke. The point is to do something that builds camaraderie with each other that is enjoyable. There is a great deal of potential for us to learn about each other in just finding out each other's interests. Why don't we start with our favorite three broad spectrum subjects such as cooking, sports, singing so we have an idea about what interests each other. We may each find a common enough ground to make a choice of activity we can all have fun with." She looked at Dr. Ironhooves, "Can I safely say that one of yours would be sports and if so what would the other two be?"

"Studying medical journals. And I blacksmith," Ironhooves replied, shuffling her legs a bit. "Sports... I am not actually a sports fan. That was just a suggestion, as it is literally a team sport, and injuries in football tend to be lesser. While I do enjoy running, my version of sport is... armored melee combat. While it can build bonds on the battlefield, not necessarily something you would want to embrace in civilized society as 'team building' I suspect..."

"Actually..." The ship's holographic physician grinned and interjected once more. "I've treated more than eighty injuries and logged dozens of self treated injuries related to team melee combat on this vessel in the past year alone. You may be surprised at what some people aboard this ship do for training and fun."

Doc Power then pulled out another PaDD and pulled up a list of holo-programs that the command staff, security, and even the lower decks crew used in groups ranging from zombie apocalypse, modern and ancient pirate takeovers, medieval assaults, and even the battle of Kahless. "Classic sports may be good team building exercises, but I've long wondered what benefit is gained from the wanton murder of holographic hordes at the hands of you and your closest friends," he quipped, grinning as he handed the PaDD over to Doc Ironhooves.

"Is it murder if they are only holographic representations of programs, who can be replenished at any time? Life is singular and extinguishable, but if a life form is electronic and can merely be reactivated at full capacity, does assault on the program with other holograms approximating actions, object densities and mass of physical objects constitute murder? If I end the program and the holographic mace is deactivated, have I murdered the mace? Should I wipe it's program engrams would I have murdered the mace? The ethical questions are potentially thorny here, Doctor. Should we be having this discussion?" Looking around and trying to read the room, the Arborian's eyes narrowed.

"Or... was that a joke and I didn't get it?"

"Ah... It was more a description of the act. My apologies." Doc powers pursed his lips and thought over his prior wording. "Perhaps I should amend my statement from murder to slaughter since it's akin to more of a strenuous full contact strategy game with swords and armor than real life, what with the safeties engaged and the enemies being controlled by algorithms and subroutines. The scenarios are often a variant of the player team having to rely on each other, what they have on them, wits, and scavenged supplies to survive from point A to point B."

"I understand that the Charge of the Light Brigade is quite popular."

The slender shoulders of the centaur came together. "I must admit, units that bond together through combat do work better together. Bonds of trust are formed, senses sharpened and confidence gained. Or problems identified for work to be done. If you are all for it, there are some sieges not dissimilar to those found on my world, with giants and sorcerers and siege engines. I... spent many of the early years of my life engaged in such warfare, and I will admit it is... comforting to me. I... guess that would be another hobby, Dr. Mah. What about you, Ensign Sado?"

The quiet Ensign cleared his throat. "Put me in the sports category, although I think we'd all know a lot more about each other after a few rounds of karaoke." He smiled. "As far as which sport, there is one from Earth that rewards teamwork and avoids violence: basketball. Five-member teams must utilize all of their teammates, know their movements, work together, all without harming their opponents." He considered his own suggestion for a moment, bringing his hand to his chin. "Yes. I suggest basketball or karaoke." The giant raised his eyebrows. "Maybe both."

Dr. Mah appreciated Ensign Sado's insight. She turned next to Dr. Power, "How about you Dr. Power? Any particular vote as to what we should do?" It was obvious the CMO wanted all parties to feel heard, she was letting everyone on the team get a feel for each other and become comfortable voicing their opinions. In times of diagnostic issues she found it was useful to have a team that heard each other and practiced actively listening to each other, a skill she fostered.

"Well..." He hadn't much thought it over, instead offering up suggestions for others. Now the ship's EMH was at a bit of a loss since he had never considered sports or team building exercises as part of his possible activities, even during this conversation and he was faced with either declining (not acceptable) or forcing his program to adapt and overcome.

Then a flash of inspiration came to him as he glanced down at his PaDD with the information on combat teams and sword training and a slight grin came to his face. "When constructing my fruit art masterpieces, I often wonder what it would have been like to have been a knight fighting for one of the castles I've recreated in fruit."

Tova nodded an looked to her team, "Alright, the consensus is an activity with an athletic bend to help us learn to work together as a team." She looked at all of them with a twinkle in her eye and smiled, "Have any of you heard of doing a fantasy game? We each are part of a team where we must accomplish a goal together, sort of like a mission, that can be customized so we each must work together to finish the task. We can set it up so it will include all of what has been mentioned here, tasks of hand eye coordination that come from basketball and football, racing, defense of an area such a castle, heck even tasks like gathering and identifying things used to heal in a timed manner together all culminating in a nice pub sing-a-long if we like. We would work as a team together against another team on the holodeck. What do you think?" She looked at everyone to see their reactions at the idea for such a concept.

"Sounds like an interesting and fun time to me," replied Doc Power with a grin.

"There's an idea," mused Ensign Sado. "It would allow for plenty of creativity as well."

"Very well then, a moment while I make sure we are all cleared for our first mission together." Tova smiled at her team while activating her comm badge. ^Dr. Mah to the Captain, permission to use the backup med team tomorrow for the day during a team exercise in the largest holodeck available for the primary med realm including Dr. Power^

"Captain Telvan here," came the reply a moment later, along with the sound of shuffling PaDDs. "Training Holodeck three is available. Security normally snatches up all four but they only reserved one and two this week. I'm approving the request now. Good luck with the training. Telvan out."

"Sounds like we'll have fun storming the castle..."

It had only been day since Ensigns Briaar Gavarus and Fiona O’Dell had been banned from Ten-Forward on the U.S.S. Hera for harassment of the staff, and the tubby Tellarite, in particular, was not taking it well.

In the morning, she grumbled and pouted her way begrudgingly out of bed and barely put forth any effort into presenting herself as an officer. Her uniform tunic was wrinkled and worn two days in a row. She hadn’t shaved, leaving a patch of platinum blonde, scraggly hairs on her chin, and she didn’t seem to care at work or on the job. To say nothing of nursing a rather aggressive hangover in the morning from drinking late into the night in their quarters after the ban.

The only thing she did pay attention to properly was her partner Fiona, and their fuzzy little Minotaur babe, Minerva. For them, she would care. But her interest in her career seemed to evaporate when the wait staff of Ten-Forward had decided that they had had enough of the pair’s behavior and habit of being belligerent drunks. It was a move that had been a long time coming but had sideswiped the portly porcine, nonetheless.

On duty, Briaar went out of her way to avoid their chief, Lieutenant Mona Gonadie, and just tried to keep her head down and be as invisible as possible. But for the two-meter tall Tellarite known for her big mouth and surly disposition, being quiet and unassuming had the effect of being extremely noticeable. By the same token, the talkative O'Dell's sudden turn to the taciturn was unusual. But either the chief knew and was giving them their distance, or was otherwise occupied.

Coming back to their quarters after work, Gavarus set the rambunctious little girl down, took the pips and commbadge off her tunic and tossed them uncaringly on the small table next to the couch and went over to the replicator to order a Natty light for herself and a pint of Guinness for Fiona.

Setting the Guinness on the coffee table for the miniature Mariposian who went into the bedroom to change out of her uniform, Gavarus flumped down hard on the couch, which creaked and cracked in protest and pulled open her tunic as she took a large swig of her beer.

Crawling up onto the couch, the tiny Minotaur didn’t understand the complex emotions the larger of her two mothers was feeling and clearly projecting, but she knew something was wrong and looked over to the ginger test pilot with a confused expression as O'Dell made her way out of the bedroom. Activating 'El Matador', Fiona pointed to the red flag the chibi bullfighter was waving. Given Minnie's developing need to charge at things, she and Gavarus had brainstormed a program that would make the toreador appear in a clear path to the child, who would 'catch' the red flag of a forcefield, which would end her charge safely.

"Alreet, I've got an idea. Tis a longshot, but I been thinking on it all day, and I think maybe I've got a decent enow plan that it joost might work," O'Dell informed Gavarus as she stepped up top the reclining Tellarite, pickup up and taking a sip of her pint.

Gavarus let her head flump back on the couch, her knee-jerk reaction wanting to be dismissive or surly. But with Fiona, she just didn't quite know how to be that woman. She could be that with almost everyone else on the ship, but not here and not with her. Instead, she let out an overly long, resigned sigh.

"Okay, shoot. What's your plan." Briaar said, taking a long drink of her own beer and almost killing it on her second swig. "Gotta be better'n my plan of telling the whole damn ship to eff off."

"Well, 10-Forward is a civilian service on a Federation starship," Fiona said, taking a sip of her pint, then using it as a scepter as she spoke. "So that means they allow private services onboard. With that said, seein' as how a pub onboard is just a nod to the fact that we're all g'win ta drink and socialize, Why is there only one? There should be options. So, why not start an after hours pub of our own? We could run it after work, before bed. We close the pub doown innyway, so why not let it be OUR pub instead?"

With a raised eyebrow, Gavarus tilted her head as Minnie charged past, giggling as she continued to chase down the holographic matador. "So, wait? You think we should open up... our OWN place? Here on the ship? I mean, I know that 10-Forward is civilian-run, but it's still kind of a standard thing on starships, ain't it? I mean... how would we even go about doing that?"

The protestations came one after the other, but it was clear that she was thinking about it nonetheless as she started stroking her chin and muttering. "I mean... yeah, the ship had, like, a bunch of empty space, including lounge areas that are, like, nothing but a replicator and some chairs. And mess space that's not being used... but WAIT!"

"Wait, Fee! What do we know about running a PUB!? And what's more, why would the Captain even LET us?!" Gavarus protested, trying to poke holes in her own interest in the idea.

"Wahhhhhl, we know what WE like in a pub, aye?" Setting her drink down, Fiona flopped on the couch beside her porcine partner to snuggle next to the much larger woman. "So i reckon that makes us as qualified as innyone to run a bar. Replicators mean the staff is minimal, and fookit, we'll just have holographic barmaids so's nobody's feelings kin get hurt. I mean, we kin set the menu for bar food and the replicators make what we tell 'em to, we can offer whativvir beers or spirits we like, and if the Captain wilnae go along with it..."

Turning, Fiona rested her chin on the round tummy of the Tellariute. Hewwr eyes were flinty and determined. "If the captain wilnae go for it, then we'll resign our commissions and fook right the hell off. They dinna want us in the pub on the ship, then we'll open our own. If they dinna want to let us do that, then we kin resign our commissions in Starfleet and they can fook right off, we'll go make ourselves a life in the civilian sector. I'm still a test pilot and you're an engineer. Not like it'd be hard for us to make our own way, aye?"

"I been thrown oota pubs before but.... this hurt ye," Fiona fairly cooed, her voice soft and soothing. "I see how much it's affected ye. It's a rejection on a lot of levels, and I get that. And I wilnae stand for innybody makin my girl this unhappy."

"This was... where we went, ya' know. It's where we hung out and... and where we kinda... became a 'we'." Gavarus said, her eyes cast down as she tried to smile for Fiona. "And I'm still pissed about how they pulled that bullshit on us. I mean... we've been going there forever and..."

"Ya' know what, F*** them. They can have 10-Forward." The portly porcine said with a bit of a forced determination as she pouted. As she did, Minnie rushed at the holographic red flag and yelled out a squeaky "F***!!" of her own. 

"Plus... nobody would give us shit about having Minnie with us," Gavarus said with a nod and the first legitimate smile of the day.

"Me Da and me brothers raised me in a pub, and joost look how I turned out, aye? Get him, Minnie! You show that matador!" Fiona laughed as they watched their bull-headed daughter chase her holographic playmate. "I suppose we could appeal the 10-For'd decision, but they threw us oot, so fookem."

"Yeah. I got no frickin' need to go beggin' t' assholes that don't want us around. They can piss off for all I care." Gavarus grumbled, her eyes trailing away from both Minnie and Fiona. "It's just... well..."

There was a long stretch of silence from the touchy Tellarite as she rolled her eyes at herself for a moment. "You... remember what I told you. About those nightmares I had when the ship was trapped in that effed up place. Where... everyone... even you... was only ever pretending to tolerate me before finally telling me the truth. It's been... I mean... between never being good enough back home and those nightmares... having the entire frickin' staff get together and decide to set a shitty ass trap to give 'em an excuse to kick us out. It makes it all feel like those nightmares were basically true."

Stealing a swig of Fiona's pint rather than disturb how the ginger mop-top was snuggling with her to get a fresh beer of her own, Briaar let out a most heavy pout. "It just... reminded me that most people would prefer it if I wasn't frickin' around."

Patting the tummy of the rotund Tellarite, the midget ginger moppet sighed. "I dinna care. I dinna care of the entire universe doesna want ye around. I do and' Minnie does, so that's all that matters. Waahhhhl, the Chief does too, and I think Mrs. Dox likes ye though she'd n'er admit it. The rest o'the universe can go fook itself if they dinna like ye though," Fiona finished, her face troubled. Having been thrown out of plenty of pubs, she too had never been banished, and this was an unusual situation for her as well. But Briaar was now deeply hurt by it, so Fiona had to find a solution.... or at least that's what her guilt was telling her.

"What really pisses me off, though, is that they did that to frickin' YOU!" Gavarus said, leaning into her tiny partner. "I mean... I GET it with me. I know what I'm like. I know the score. Hell, I never would have even met you if I didn't annoy everyone in Engineering so much that they moved me to the flight deck to deal with the L-C's habit of tinkering with shit herself."

"Which... really, on it's own... who frickin' cared. An' yeah. The Chief is awesome. And J-Bomb is cool. Hell, even the L-C is coming around. But the rest? Eff that shit. But what I'm pissed about is how they pissed on YOU!? C'mon, that's just effed up." The petulant porcine protested, "You just LITERALLY saved all of our frickin' LIVES! We'd all probably be in weird nightmare comas being eaten by creepy tenticle space monsters if not for YOU! And if not for YOU, the Captain's crazy ass mother would have got away. You're a frickin' badass. A big, gods damn frickin' HERO! And what the f*** do they do to repay that? A week later, they tell YOU to get out!?!?"

"Ungrateful frickin asshat piece of shit, cockwaffle motherf***ers! Let 'em have that boring ass wannabe pub!" Now Gavarus was Turing her sadness back into anger, but she was aiming that anger, now. "You're right! There's plenty of space. The Cap'n lets all that pirate crap on the ship, The L-C used to keep her own private ship on Flight Deck 2! What CAN'T we open a pub on our own time!? OUR Pub, OUR rules!!"

"Exactly!" Fiona chimed in, rolling over to flop on the couch next to Briaar, then snuggling against her, compacting her limbs and curcling up into a rather compact bundle as she did so, then a hand snaked out to retrieve the pint glass for a sip, after which she returned it to the three-fingered hand of her partner. "We know what we like to see in a pub, so why not make our own? I mean, hero crap aside, nobody disses me girl and gets aweee with et!"

Taking another swig of Fiona's Guinness, Gavarus let out a deep and throat belch that caused the miniature minotaur to stop in her tracks and giggle in between the deep breaths she was taking after all but running her little legs ragged. 

Crawling up awkwardly onto Gavarus' prodigious paunch of a middle, the fuzzy little humanoid cow let out a gentle moo as she joined in on the group hug with her mothers. 

Lowering the tone of her rant accordingly, Gavarus lightly pet Minnie's head as she replied. "You're right. We can do this. And I bet the Chief and the L-C and Jae would have our backs too. So, even if we can't get a GREAT space, that doesn't matter. We can set up some holographic windows and replicate those awesome, old fashioned wood fixtures. Like the big, old bar face and the stools with the old leather seats. Really make it old school and warm and shit. Like... a place people will WANT to go, rather than just go because there ain't anywhere else to relax on the damn ship."

"See? That's why Ah love you," Fiona O'Dell sighed, dreaming of her own wee pub. "Ye get it."

"Momma."

"Momma."

"Momma."

"Moommma."

MOOOOOOMMMMMAAAAA!!!!! Wake upppppp."

The squeaky voice of the fuzzy little Minotaur toddler, Minerva Mary Margret Mona O'Dell, came from the top of the prodigious paunch of one of her adoptive mothers, the Tellarite Engineer, Ensign Briaar Gavarus. 

Bouncing in place, the brown-furred little bovine was doing her level best to wake up her extremely hungover mother, who began to groan in protest as the world began to come back into focus. "Ooooh, 'r you gotta stop, Minnie. 'M gonna hurl all over you."

Scooching up slightly, Minnie curled up and rolled off Gavarus' belly with a giggle, a maneuver she had clearly done before. Rubbing the bridge of her porcine snout, the rotund engineer muttered. "Good girl... uhhh, my frickin' head... where's yer mum?"

"M'ere," drifted the voice from somewhere around Gavarus' hip. "Whutizzit, Minerva? What's s'important ye've got to wake up yuir mums?" It was abundantly clear that the 'mum' in question was far from awake, as the only sign of life was a slight stirring of the mop of curls that tended to cover the diminutive Irish lass in her sleep. Which was possible only because of the nature of her sleeping position, which was curled into a rather tight ball, against the broad body of her larger partner, usually encircled by her beefy arm.

"After Hours! Today's the day yuir g'win ta pitch yuir idea 'bout a Irish pub to the Cap'n!" Minnie jumped up and down on the bed, excited at the prospect of her mums starting a pub.

Reminded of the conversation of the night before, O'Dell tried to ignore the pit in her stomach and snuggled against Gavarus. "Five more minutes willnae kill us. Coom back ta bed, wee one, aye? For mummy?" O'Dell peeked up from her sleeping position to see the miniature Minotaur eyeing her. Crooking her finger at the child, Fiona O'Dell scooted about to settle her daughter into the crook of Briaar's arm, then Fiona paid her head on the lap of the child, to try to enjoy the next five minutes with her happy little family.

"Is it five minutes yet, Mum?" Minerva whispered, peaking her head up over Fiona's red curls with a squeak to her voice, which carried a bit of her Mariposian mother's Irish brougue. It had been, in point of fact, about five seconds.

"Minnie, hun. C'mon. Just... a little more sleep, kiddo. Then we'll get up. We promise." Briaar said, gently rubbing her daughter's hair and curling just a bit tighter around the two of them. But it was clear that the irrepressible child was far more excited about the prospect than her hung-over mothers.

"Okee. I'll go back t' sleep." Minnie squeaked as quietly as she could, and almost cartoonishly began making tiny, clearly fake snoring sounds doing her level best to obey.

With a half reluctant chuckle, Briaar snorted, then sighed. "This ain't gonna work, Fee. Now my BRAIN'S frickin' awake."

"Ah knoooooow," Fiona moaned as she sat up, stretched overhead, then stretched forward onto the bed like a rather improbable ginger cat. Rolling her head around, rolling her joints and generally unkinking herself from the restrictive pose in which she was most comfortable sleeping, O'Dell looked over her shoulder at Gavarus. Rising up to her knees, Fiona turned around on the bed, to face her porcine partner. Twirling her finger to indicate to Minnie to turn about, the bright eyed child obeyed, to the approving nod and smile of her mother. Flopping herself down gently on the rounded paunch of her partner, indicating for her child to do the same, Fiona addressed them both.

"Alreet, family meetin. I got me a bad feelin aboot alla this. I think mebbe we mighta overreacted a wee tad, aye?" Those bright emerald eyes looked to the youngster and the drunkard for their input.

"Yeah," Briaar groaned out, her voice a little more gruff sounding than normal, laying on her back. "The more I think about it, the more I think giving the Pirate Queen of planet Titania a frickin' ultimatum is a real quick way to just get kicked off the ship in the worst way."

"N'..." the penitent porcine pondered as she mumbled, "We already got kicked outta ten frickin' forward. I... don't wanna know just how easy it would be for the rest of the crew to say 'don't let the door hit ya' on the ass'." 

"Foook me, ye hit the nail on the head there. That's it, right there. So I've got me another idea, that maybe might sell it easier. tell me whatchye think, aye?" With that said, Fiona leaned in a bit more toward the Minotaur babe, crowding both of them on the side as they leaned in toward Gavarus' snout. "What if we ASK the cap'n for permission to start our own pub, because if we're the ones runnin it, we won't be imfringin on innyone else's good time. Ye want a nice quiet drink, go to 10-For'd. The loud drunks are all at After Hours."

"It'll put the shoe on the other foot, makin us run the pub. So what d'ye say ta that approach?" Fiona looked both girls in the eyes, seeking input. Minnie looked to Briaar expectantly, looking to take a cue from Mom.

"Soooo... instead of an ultimatum, you're thinkin'..." Gavarus worked Fiona's thinking out to the best of her ability. "You're thinking... she IS a frickin' Pirate. Her and those freaky ass Baronesses and, like, the L-C. They all get off on loud ass, rowdy bars. We appeal to her OWN interests. This can be the place where she don't have t' BE all Captainy and shit."

"Aye, and it dawns on me, likely the best way to get Herself ta shove ye oot of an airlock is to hand her an ultimatum. The queen'a 'live free or die' isnae likely ta take a 'no options' plan well. I kinda figured it oot when I thought aboot it NOT drunk and imaghinin her response nearly made me pess meself. Speakin'a a which... c'mon. manure maiden. If I've got to pee, likely ye've got to pee, and we hafta get offa yuir mum so's she kin pee. C'mon noow!"

In the expanded family quarters was a considerably larger bathing facility as well as reclamators. In the O'Dell/Gavarus household, there was one large throne, complete with filtering exhaust fan built in. Then two rather petite toilettes, so that the entire family could relieve themselves simultaneously. As was the case in the moment, with all three relieving morning bladders, and a bit more in Minnie's case. Again, the internal filtration fans kept the stench down to a mere whiff of unpleasantness. Which was important when dealing with Minotaur poo, as it turned out.

One of the advantages of the pungent porcine being an engineer.

With an exaggerated sniffing and a broad wave of her hand in front of her snout, Briaar turned towards the tiny Minoatur as they were attending to their business. "Wooo WEEEE!!! I think you got me BEAT there, Minnie!

As she joked, the miniature Minotaur giggled at her massive mother's playful talking. "Nuh uh, Momma! Nuh uh!"

"YUUUUUP, I'm gonna have to make more chilli if I'm gonna keep up with you, kiddo." Gavarus said, making, of all things, potty time into a game with their beloved daughter.

"Jaysis, nooo. Some of us still breathe through our noses, fr'crissakes..." Fiona rolled her eyes in mock lamentation.

Then, after a few minutes, the unlikely trio finished up and went through the motions of cleaning themselves up for the day. A few sonic showers later, and Gavarus had a concerned expression on her face. "So, Fee. I was thinking about shit in the shower, and I was thinking. Uh... even if we make the best pitch in the quadrant, what if the Captain still says no? I mean... whadda we do, then?"

"Well, then we sook it oop and try ta make nice wi' the staff at 10-Forward, or we start drinkin at home," O'Dell explained as she stepped into her uniform slacks. "I mean, I dinna like either of those options, but tis the only drinkin hole on the ship. But, again, we get anything we want from the replicator , so... I dunno. I'll admit, I dinna like how they went aboot it. Seemed like a bit of a dirty trick, and nae like they talked to us aboot it forst or nothin. No warnin's joost..."

At that, Fiona's non-drunk mind began replaying numerous warnings given to them by the staff of the lounge over the past few months. "Or maybe not completely oota the blue..."

"Ugh." Gavarus groaned, looking on the dresser for her commbadge and single, gold rank pip as she groused. "What are we supposed to do? Go in and kiss their asses and pretend like they didn't set us up to make sure that no matter what we did, they were gonna kick us out?"

"I've got to admit, I'd rather chew broken glass than go crawlin back into 10-For'd," Fiona admitted. "So if it's a no go for our own place, I guess our quarters will be the new pub. Aye Minnie?" Fiona asked, as she pulled a pretty pink dress over Minnie's head, buttoned it and began brushing the cheerful child's hair into the bow that topped off her precious appearance.

"So... I guess we better do a damn good job of convincing the Captain that our pub is a frickin' great idea. Cuz I don't look forward to having to crawl back in there." She said, digging through her messy underwear drawer, still in search of her badge and pip.

"Unless she orders us to do it, I dinna plan to," Fiona admitted. "So aye, I'll be as convincin as possible. Whattye say, hit her oop after our shift? Or before work this mornin?"

"Momma!" Minnie said excitedly as she popped out of the pile of laundry in the corner from the night before having fished out Gavarus' commbadge and rank pip. "I found yuir thingies."

"Aw, shit. Thanks. You're my fuzzy little angel," Gavarus said, leaning down to take the badge and pip that the furry, horned child was holding out excitedly. 

Pinning both in place on her blue, R&D tunic, she adjusted the little bow, with the same exact blue color, on Minnie's dark hair and smiled as she turned to Fiona. "I dunno. I mean... I wanna just put it off and not deal with it, but... then I'll be thinkin about it all damn day, ya' know? An' we got tests we're supposed to run on the new inertial dampeners for the Cyclones and... you're a frickin' test pilot. I can be distracted and shit and it's usually no big deal. But..."

Hemming and hawing, Gavarus was trying to skirt the point for a bit before just spitting it out. "I think... we should see if we can just... get it over with, I think. Whadda you think?"

"Aye, no sense in puttin it off. Let's go walk the plank."

A decision had been made, and now it was up to Ensigns Briaar Gavarus and Fiona O'Dell to actually act upon it.

A couple of days ago, after a long day of problem-solving for the U.S.S. Hera's Research and Development department, the miniscule Mariposian test pilot and the irascible Tellarite engineer headed to the ship's main lounge, Ten-Forward to celebrate in their usually rambunctious and notoriously loud fashion. That night, however, it was a fashion that the put-upon staff had decided that they had enough of.

After a few minutes of making their presence known and pestering the staff for being too slow, the staff came out en masse and informed the pair that their presence in the lounge was no longer welcome. The staff of the civilian-run Ten-Forward had put it to a vote, and that vote said that Gavarus and O'Dell were out.

Taking a day to stew over the decision and another day to get very drunk in their own quarters, the angry pair had decided that they would start their own pub on the ship and, in their drunken state, they decided that if the Captain didn't let them, then they would put in their resignations. 

Then they woke up, and being sober, realized what a terrible idea giving the freedom-loving, former pirate an ultimatum on her own ship would be, and decided on a different tactic. They still wanted to open up their own pub, but were thinking about it a bit more level-headedly now and were on their way to pitch their idea to the Hera's mistress, Captain Enalia Telvan.  

An appointment was made for before their shift that morning, where the Captain had agreed to see them in her office. So the red-headed test pilot and the portly porcine were on their way for their date with potential destiny, or possibly the end of their careers.

"Okay... so... we can do this, right, Fee?" Gavarus said while they rode the turbolift to the bridge for their appointment. "I mean. It's... It's a cool idea, right?"

"Oh, aye, sure, the Cap'n's gonna love it, sure, aye," Fiona answered distractedly, her hands attempting to wrestle one another as she worked to unsuccessfully quash her own misgivings about their plan. "Nae, tis a good plan, She'll... yeah, sure, this''l work..."

Arriving at the door, both looked at the other to press the door chime. Rolling her eyes, the daredevil dwarf poked the chime.

The mistress of the Hera, Captain Telvan was in a little earlier than usual today for several meetings, this being one of them. Having just gotten off the comms a few minutes prior, she was looking over the request by Ensigns O'Dell and Gavarus as well as their lengthy history of complaints in Ten Forward and their recent banishment from the establishment by the management.

When the door chime rang, Enalia looked up from her desk terminal and tea towards the door, expecting it to be the two R&D misfits on the other side. "Come in."

The door woodshed open and the mismatched duo in blue stepped in, clearly nervous. While the two-meter tall Tellarite was a bit more obviously anxious, she unexpectedly spoke up first. "Uh… um… hi… Hello. Greetings. Uh, good morning, Captain."

"Good morning. Please, come in, have a seat. Would you care for some tea? I have a mild breakfast blend this morning." With a light smile, the CO of the Hera held up her carafe' of tea.

Under the stress of the moment, Gavarus secretly wished it wasn't WAY too early for a beer to calm her nerves, and suspected Fiona was likely thinking much the same. But she also didn't want to piss off their spotted commanding officer as she hesitantly sat in one of the two offered seats. "Uh, yeah. Yes. uh... thank you, Captain."

"Yes'm. Three lumps, if y'please, thankye." O'Dell left it at that, and a silence hung in the air which she took to be a pregnant pause, swallowed her fear, and augered in.

As O'Dell launched into her proposal, Enalia prepared their tea in simple USS Hera themed teacups and saucers - a deviation from the normal frilly or ornate ones she normally served with.

"Mum? Cap'n? We've got a proposal. Well, I mean, tis more of a request I guess since twould require materials an sooch. The thing of it is, we're too rowdy for 10-Forward. We like to drink and carouse and hassle and be hassled back and tis more of a blowin off of steam, ventin the pressure, mum, y'ken?" Taking the silence as encouragement, O'Dell pressed on.

"We'd like to open a different place, mum. Still do our jobs- we love workin' in R&D and we dinna want to give that oop. But after hours, we'd run the pub, til we close it doown and go ta bed and get oop the next day to do it again. We want someplace where ye can drink and talk shit and be fulla shite and noboidy will care because it was in the pub. That's our proposal... request. Our idea, mu,. Captain." It was clear from the way that she rambled and the level of her brogue that O'Dell was nervous, which she had relaxed around the captain through interaction before, but this could go a lot of ways, and both of the misfit officers knew they were sticking their necks out here.

Sitting in the chair, slightly small for her extremely prodigious paunch, Gavarus looked fairly ridiculous daintily holding a delicate teacup in her calloused, three-fingered hand with an awkward smile on her face.

"Uh... I mean..." Gavarus muttered nervously as the tea in her cup churned in her shaking hands. "Making your way on the ship today, sometimes it... it... t... takes everything you've got. Taking a break from all your worries, sure would help a lot. Wouldn't you like a place t...to get away?"

"You do both make good points and your proposal is quite interesting, however there are some issues." As she spoke, Enalia leaned back in her chair, teacup in one hand and a PaDD in her other. "Before I clear you to open a venue aboard the Hera you need at least a plan for non Starfleet staff, stock, licensing, furnishings, and equipment. On top of that, you'll need to either attend regular civilian services meetings or assign a representative to do so."

"And ladies... Having attended every monthly meeting since I took command of the Hera..." The spotted woman paused and glanced over her PaDD before continuing. "You'll want a representative."

At the list of requirements, O'Dell's brow furrowed. "Stock I understand... I did say greater replicator allowance, and unless we kin come oop with real liquor, we dinna exactly have ta worry boot stock at all. Same wi' furnishings and equipment- all joost matter that comes oot of a replicator, is it not, mum? And... licensing? We have have a license to have a bar on a starship? How does that work, mum? Are we applyin' to Starfleet, to the Federation, to the local government of... the Hera? Licenses are a control measure of local governments in order to collect sales tax. We're a moneyless society mum. So, how does that work?" With that out there, O'Dell smirked. "As for a Civilian representative, we've already one in mind."

"Excellent. The licensing is an annual inspection on your drink replicators to make sure they're following quality control regulations. It's been an especially critical issue since the Ferengi have been setting up bars in Federation space. Fortunately, the venue you've asked for has recently been inspected and rated for commercial use as of..." The Trill Captain took a moment to check her desk terminal for a piece of information. "Approximately two hours ago. You'll also need your own independent power supply to continue operations when the Hera is unable to supply you power." Enalia pursed her lips a moment and stared at the PaDD in her hand.

"All that being said..." She then set the PaDD and tea aside. "You've done a lot for this ship and I would be remiss if I didn't at least give you a little push. If you didn't know what my wife does, she's an information broker and several of her family are black market dealers. A lot of the real stock in Ten Forward is obtained through her and she's willing to make you the same deals. There also happens to be a store of furnishings in her name that you can have in cargo bay seven which includes a power supply from an old shuttle."

"Which leaves staff," the spotted woman finished, nodding slightly.

"Well... I mean... aside from us occasionally... we were... uh..." Gavarus nervously stuttered as she interjected, "Uh... uh... thinking of... maybe... programming a holographic wait staff. So... like... they could be, ya' know, real pub bartenders that are crotchety and give everyone a little crap, 'cuz it's fun."

"Whiiiccchh... uh... actually comes back to th' idea we wanted to talk about, ya' know, for the civilian, whatchamacallit, liaison or representative." Gavarus finished, putting the teacup back on its saucer before she accidentally shattered it for how much she was still shaking.

"We want the Baroness Sarika!" O'Dell blurted out. "She's a bloody pirate, and she's got jack all to do on this boat. At least if she's helpin run a bar, then she's got somewhere to hang her hat where everybody's equal, aye? So she won't feel like she's the only one who ain'ta fleeter, and she has a place to kick up her heels and brawl. No Security, mum. If we need 'em we'll call 'em, but we want people to relax and blow off steam, aye? If it make disciplinary problems we'll amend, but at least to start off... the After Hours Pub, mum. That's the idea fuir the name. Less ye want a pirate theme instead of an Irish poob theme...?"

Having said that, O'Dell performed a rather uncanny impression of the 'Puss in Boots big eyes' expression of pleading, with a hopeful smile. It was clear the Captain was on their side and willing to take a chance on them, so Fiona was getting all of the bad ideas out there at once.

"You want..." Now it was Enalia's turn to be caught off guard and almost spill her tea on herself, barely catching it as she was bringing it to her lips and setting it back on the saucer as she sat up straight in her chair. She had assumed the pair was referring to Jaeih Dox and hadn't expected Sarika to be mentioned at all. Were they drinking buddies now too? Had she missed something?

Trying to compose herself, the spotted woman cleared her throat and tried to think of a way out of it. "Her time aboard the ship was always supposed to be temporary since I'm no longer a queen. I believe she had planned on returning to her fleet after Baroness Schwein's wedding. However, I will leave negotiations with her up to the two of you. As for holographic wait staff, I believe my wife also has access to such programs so I'd contact her first so you don't have to start from scratch."

"Is she? Shite, I liked her," O'Dell muttered. "Alreet mum, we'll find another liason. No sense trying to get her to stay if she's no reason. Aye, we'll speak to Mrs. Captain and see what she has to offer, because ate, the holostaff was definitely a key element. We were nae aimin for full AI, so they won't be offended by people bein off duty and relaxed. As for dealin' with her through the black market, we've naught to offer mum, so it'll all be oot of the replicators for us. Well, aside from alla the whiskey we got onboard from Wally when we left Miraposa, I guess..."

"Yeah, I'll miss her as well. Aiva will be staying on but with Schwein and Sarika around the past few years it almost felt like the old days before I joined Starfleet." Sipping her tea, Enalia let silence fall over the room for a moment as she reminisced about the past. "So I think we covered everything on my end. Was there anything else we needed to cover on your end?"

"Shit, I dunno..." Gavarus added, forgetting for a second that she was in a meeting with the Captain. Her thick face turned white and her porcine shout actually scrunched up so far it almost looked like it would invert into her skull. "Uh... I mean... Sorry. Uh... Just... we are really hoping to make this something special, Captain. A place where nobody has rank and everybody can just be themselves. So... we're... ya' know. Thanks for takin' a chance on us."

"You're very welcome. Just keep in mind that your duties and family should come first, ok?" With a subtle nod to both of them, the Hera's Captain came clean. "Other than that, this is a big ship and I've gotten a few complaints over the years on both sides of the fence so I understand. There are a lot of crew that just drink in their quarters or in random observation lounges just to avoid Ten Forward's particular brand of atmosphere. You're not the first people they've banned and you won't be the last. Just... Be ready for a nightly bar fight, ok? Maybe talk to our resident civilian biologist Ahreva Malana and see if she can lend a hand. I hear she's good at testing the integrity of furniture. They've almost banned her for breaking theirs."

"Alreet mum, we will. And... what she said," O'Dell chucked a thumb at her porcine partner. "We appreciate ye being willin to take a chance on us and let us have a place of our own. Have n'fear, we'll do our jobs like allays, and a'course ye know Minnie's the center of our little world, so we'd ne'er neglect her- hell, she'll be in the pub every night, joost like how me Da raised me, aye?" Pausing for a moment, O'Dell took a chance.

"Yuir welcome too, mum," the Mariposian midget mentioned, looking out from beneath her brows, eyes wide. "No ranks, cap'n's orders. So ye can joost be one of the gals, aye? Ye dinna have ta drink alone in yuir quarters, ye know."

"I'll stop by now and then and I'll be there for the grand opening," Enalia replied, not even batting an eye at the mention of a toddler being in a pub. After all, being raised in a pirate family that sounded perfectly reasonable to her. "If you need any help just let myself or my wife know. Unless you can think of anything else... Dismissed. Good luck."

At that, O'Dell stood up, poked her paunchy partner, and the two came to attention and saluted their captain. As neither was particularly military-minded, nor were they particularly formal, the act was a genuine show of respect for the woman, ho had earned it time and again with her junior officers.

"Thankye mum... we'll make ye proud!" O'Dell declared.

As the unlikely duo exited the Captain's office they were all smiles and success, making their way over to the Turbolift to get ready for the rest of their day. As the lift arrived and they entered, Gavarus waited for the doors to close before she let out a lengthy sigh and the plastered smile cracked into a weird grin.

"Holy shit, Fee. We... we frickin' did it! We can open our own frickin' PUB here on the ship! I can't believe she said yes!" The ponderous porker proclaimed before her eyes went wide. "Now what the hell do we do?"

"That part's easy, Gavarus, me old chum," O'Dell explained while grinning like a lunatic. "Now we open pub, and show 'em how tis done!"

Today was not a normal day for the now obviously chubby and slightly pudgy middled Ashrevanian Malana. She had just come from sickbay where she received the most confusing news. She wanted to feel exhilarated and fearful at the same time for what it meant, however she knew she had to share these test results with the person that was likely to be the other party involved as soon as possible.

Therefore, she had gotten in contact with Ensign MacNielle and cleared a bit of time with Ensign Weiaex's schedule in order to speak with her on the matter. This was how she found herself stepping into one of the Hera's Type 9 shuttles, the deck plating groaning just the slightest as she stepped aboard.

"Weiaex... I have news that I must share with you," Malana began, now suddenly unsure of how to proceed as she held up a small PaDD. "May we speak a moment?"

Sitting at the helm of the shuttle, the orange-shelled, Edosian pilot flipped her silver hair over her shoulder as she looked up at the screens in front of her, and not yet back at her friend. The usually chatty, six-limbed pilot had been extremely quiet of late and even more distant with her stone friend. "Yeah, just hold on onnnneeeee second. Just need to finish running this diagnostic."

"The L-C has us updating the operating systems with some new interfaces that should increase the ship's reaction times based on some new tech they're playing with upstairs in R&D. We're gonna test it out on this girl before going system-wide, but I need to run some diagnostics and systems checks before we can start sim tests and eventually, field tests, ya' know." Even distracted, the talkative three-armed woman could talk most individual's ears off. "So, what's.... up?"

Turning around in the seat, Weiaex paused for a moment, instantly noticing the physical change in the stone woman she had been trying to avoid for a couple of weeks.

Rather than immediately explaining the situation, Malana handed over the small PaDD, which included pregnancy scans as well as several imaging scans which showed a definite life form growing within her. "My people normally procreate by meditating like we did over a compatible open rock face and imbuing it with our life energies. The new life is then born whole from the rock face at a later date. For one of my kind to bear life as a biological..."

Were it possible for her orange carapace to show such things, it would have gone white at Weiaex looked at the PaDD and listened to Malana speak. Swallowing deep, she began rambling slightly. "Wait, 'like we', Is that what? Meditating... makes little... you's?"

Pausing for the slightest of breaths, She ran one of her three hands through her hair while she began fanning herself with the PaDD with another while gesticulating wildly with the third. "You're... PHYSICALLY pregnant?! I mean... we... we TALKED about... like... DATING? And I've been freaking out since then... But... you're PREGNANT? With an ACTUAL kid growing in you? How is... you just said... are you okay?!"

"Yeah, I mean..." Malana paused a moment and was motionless as she looked down at her hands before she looked back up at Weiaex. "It should have been impossible. The only possible conclusion I can come to is that when I was mended on Meroset, they used compatible life stone and when we meditated and shared our life forces in that expanded moment..."

The literal stone-faced woman nodded slowly, her eyes looking like they wanted to cry out of either fear or joy - perhaps both.

Looking at her friend, Weiaex scrunched her face as she tried processing what she was seeing and hearing. An act that represented itself as it usually did for the talkative pilot, with words. In this case, a very select few.

"W... We? Mal... what... what are you sayin'?"

"There is... an Ashrevanian formed of our life forces..." Malana was doing her best to remain stoic as she rested her hands on her midsection. "Growing within me."

Slumping back in her seat at the helm, the Edosian pilot's head wobbled slightly as she began to get faint. "We... we didn't... do... this is heavy."

Pressing a hand against her forehead, Weiaex's voice dropped. "This is... for us... for Edosian's... it's... such a massive process. There's... like... eggs and finding a spot for 'em back home and... it takes forever and... and... and..."

"And it wasn't... anything I ever wanted. I mean..." Casting her eyes down at her own feet, the anxious pilot squirmed in her seat. "I LIKE you. You're like... my best friend. But... We're... that's... that's mine... because we... meditated? I... I don't understand."

"I'm sorry, I never expected this either. I didn't even expect it to work, but I care about you so much. Should I not have told you?" Now Malana definitely looked like she was about to cry, if her people could.

"What? No." Weiaex said, waving all three of her hands in the air. "Look, just... sit down. All the seats in here are rated for about 6 times your weight. No, I'm glad you told me, I am. I'm just... I'm just me. I'm... I'm freaking out. It's what I do."

Without a word, Malana took a seat next to her dearest friend and nodded, doing her best to remain strong.

"I mean... I just screwed myself out of the assistant chief position because I freaked out. I'm not sayin' it's good or right or anything. But it's the truth. I'm freaking out. I'm... gonna probably KEEP freaking out here for a bit." Weiaex said, talking with her hands like she usually did. "And I don't understand... any of this. I mean. People think I don't pay attention 'cuz I talk this much, but I do. I know you said this isn't something that has EVER happened before to your people. So... I don't know what to do. I admit it. I'm freaking out."

"I like you. You're my best friend. Probably ever. And I know we were talking about, like, maybe trying dating, and that... honestly... it freaked me out too. Because... I just honestly don't know how I feel. I don't know if I feel... that way. About anybody. But... if this is... somehow... our kid in there... wow... I mean... that's just." Pulling her hands down to her sides, Weiaex took a breath and finished. "We'll... we'll figure it out, right?"

"Yes. We can and will figure it out. You are my best friend as well. You are the one that taught me what true friendship and love are and I wouldn't trade anything for that." Reaching out, the stone woman took one of her friend's hands and held it tenderly. "And whatever happens, I would like to experience it with you, if you are willing. After all, she is as much you as she is me."

"What?" Weiaex said incredulously. "Look, Mal. Whatever else, I'm not gonna just cut and run, okay. But what about your people? I mean, I know you're exiled from them, but is there anything out there we can find that might help us figure out... this?"

"Thank you," Malana replied, relief evident across her face as she finally relaxed. "As for my people... There is one that may help. One that inspired me to follow the path that I have. They now live in exile upon the world of Risa as a six meter tall Horga'hn. The locals climb a mountain trail to seek blessings from her."

"One of your people is a six meter tall sex idol? Wow." Weiaex said with wide eyes as she nodded approvingly. "You, I... can see how they might have a bit more... enlightened trains of thought from the rest of those stiff. Maybe when shore leave comes up, we can pull something off."

"Thank you, Wei," Malana replied, cracking a soft smile. "You have no idea how much this means to me. Especially since the birthing process of the fully grown Ashrevanian from the solid rock face... It is not kind to the rock. I do not know if our child will be within me that long or how it will be born."

"Well... we got some pretty smart doctors here on the ship, so they should be able to figure something out. Still, some inside info on if there's some precedent for this can't hurt, I figure. I mean, whatever we can find out from whereever is probably a good thing, right?" Weiaex said, rambling a bit more that was normal even for HER. But in this case her anxiety was shooting through the top of the shuttlecraft as she tried processing how meditation on what was essentially a first date to see how it would go had lead to this. "And hopefully, you being a biologist will come in handy, ya' know?"

"I do have an extensive fount of knowledge and experience from which to draw upon," Malana confirmed with a soft not and grin, her confidence starting to return. "I have witnessed the mating and procreation of hundreds of species. Coupled with the knowledge and expertise with those aboard this vessel, anything is possible. You are quite correct."

"There you go. That's a starting point. We figure out the physical specifics, like, ya' know, if this is dangerous for you since it's not how it's supposed to work for your people. Then we can figure out just... how this happened." Weiaex said, anxiety clear in her voice as she paused slightly in her words. "So... we can get together after shift, ya' know, and talk some more and start, ya' know... figuring everything out."

"And perhaps after work we may speak more of our relationship and intimacy?" Malana prompted, looking hopeful. Her people rarely dreamed but when they did, it often prompted life-changing events and for her, it led her to declare a love she harbored deep inside of her for the orange carapaced Edosian.

"Uh... yeah. Yeah." Weiaex said, nodding with a smile. It wasn't exactly forced as much as it was uncomfortable. The truth was she was still extremely confused over her feelings, no knowing if she shared the same depth of emotions for her stone best friend. "We can talk about everything after shift. I promise."

"Thank you, Wei. I look forward to our time together once our duties are complete." Certain of her own feelings, yet starting to get the feeling that perhaps her friend either didn't share those feelings or wasn't sure of her own feelings, Malana stood and slowly headed for the door of the shuttle, pausing to glance back once she reached it. "I will be thinking of you as I study the current batch of bio-samples being processed."

"Yeah." Weiaex smiled and nodded. "I'll meet you at your office when you're off shift and we can... go to Ten-Forward or... whatever. And we can talk some more." The response had a bit of anxiety in it, and the anxious pilot knew it was coming out.

"I'm okay, Mal. I am. I'm just a little freaked out. But it's... okay. It'll be okay. Okay?" Weiaex answered the question she imagined looking at Malana's face, which was far more expressive than usual.

"Okay. We will get through this. We just need time." The literal stone woman then smiled almost in slow motion, pausing for a moment with the brightest, warmest smile she'd ever given off, then turned to leave the shuttle bay.

With most of the R&D Department currently under construction, the elder Romulan caretaker of the Hera’s more exceptional youngsters, Jaeih Dox, had decided that it would be simpler to watch her grandchildren in Mona and Mnhei’sahe’s quarters for the day.

After all, Maica was watching Moira and Ensigns Gavarus and O’Dell were taking a personal day with their own miniature Minotaur babe, Minerva. Which meant that the former Tal’Shiar intel operative who had somehow found herself in charge of the Starships children, could focus on her own little angels.

Angels with stubby wings that didn’t work nearly as well as they thought they did.

Their mothers’ chambers had been doubled in size by absorbing the empty quarters to the left of their own, and that extra space was devoted to the children’s room and a basic play area for the three half Miradonian, half Romulan girls.

It was still between the morning and mid-day meals, and the stern faced Romulan woman in the blue R&D tunic was sitting in a plush chair in the corner of the colorfully decorated playroom with a PaDD in her hand as she read a story to the children.

Sitting on the thick, padded green matt on the deck, little Blue and green plumed Tala was on her belly looking up with the widest of copper eyes, enthralled in the story. Sitting behind her, golden feathered Amihan was rocking back and forth on her diapered rump, smiling. And fidgeting around the base of the chair, was red and black plumed Hlai’vana.

The most rambunctious of the three was, as usual, crawling about the room, trying to find a way to get into mischief, as Jaeih read an old Romulan fairy tale. “SOMETHING IN ROMULAN I’LL ADD IN LATER.”

As she usually did, Jaeih read to the children in the native languages of each story, and then translated them as she went. After all, she had taught her own daughter 4 languages from a young age, and her grandchildren would be no different. Knowledge was the most powerful advantage one could possess in a very dangerous universe, Jaeih reckoned.

Continuing to read, the observant former secret agent initially missed something that had entered the otherwise closed-off room. After a second, the sensitive, Romulan ears that all in the room possessed picked up on the lightest sound of what could only be described as… fluttering. “What in Areinnye?” Jaeih muttered, setting the PaDD down, trying to locate the source of the sound.

It cannot be an INSECT on a Starship? That would be absurd. Jaeih thought as she slowly looked around as the sound stopped very near to her head. But before she could even turn, she noticed a very different concern.

Next to the chair, little Hlai’vana had very quietly climbed up to the small bookshelf to her side and was intensely staring with a fixed gaze and a head that seemed to be mounted on a gyroscope. Glancing from the locked copper eyes of her granddaughter, to where they were looking, the salt and pepper haired Romulan spied what appeared to be a butterfly on her own shoulder.

Then, without hesitation, little Vana was a black and red streak through the air, letting out a fairly disconcerting screech as her sisters cheered her one from the ground. And seconds later, Jaeih had caught the tiny tot in her lap before she could fly any further from her grasp.

Curled up on her back, Vana looked up at her grandmother with excited eyes as, in her little mouth, was the fluttering creature, protesting in vain against the avian child’s grip.

“My, quite the little bird of prey you are, Vana. Now, give it to your Hu'nanov.” Jaeih said, holding out her hand and using the Romulan word for ‘Grandmother’ the surprisingly smart children could already say. With a smile and a nod, chubby little Vana opened her mouth and the butterfly flittered out before being snatched again in Jaeih’s hand. And as the Elder Romulan looked at it, her eyebrow cricked.

“Paper? Curious indeed.” She said, looking at the tiny, folded paper creature that confounded her. Then, as if by magic,the paper unfolded. And on it, in gilded gold letters, words in flowing Greek.

“I know this. This is… Greek. Ahhh, Hera.” Jaeih said as a slight smile creased her patrician facade.

The Greek lettering wiggled and shifted and after a few seconds molded themselves into Romulan lettering and words. "I request your and your grandchildren's aid in the research of Miradonian recipes. You are cordially invited to my residence to partake in and assist in furthering the quality of said baked goods. Please arrive at my residence at your earliest convenience. -Hera"

"Well... that was... decidedly different." Jaeih said as she set the note down with her PaDD and got up. "Well, my darlings... it appears we shall be going for a visit. Let us make a trip to the potty to make sure you are all clean and presentable and we shall visit your Aunt Hera."

Immediately, the three avian children began to smile and thrum happily.

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

Even with three feathery children, all waddling hand in hand down the corridor, security protocols needed to be observed on the mighty Starship. And with the presentation of the written summons at the door to Hera's chambers, the massive mountain of muscle that was Petty Officer Ethel Jablonski allowed the little group in. 

Though, not before taking a moment to play with the precocious children for just a moment. 

Stepping inside the small foyer that had been constructed at the head of the chamber to give Hera a bit more privacy, Jaeih held Hlai'vana's hand, who held Tala's, who held Amihan's. "Jolan'tru, Hera. It is I and the children, as requested."

"Please, come in, come in! Make yourselves at home!" called the matronly goddess from further inside the quarters as she slid a sheet of wax paper off of a cookie sheet, which was covered in tiny little cookies. "I've made several of the recipes I got from our recent trip and I was hoping to get your opinions on them."

Stepping inside, Jaeih looked down at the tree toddlers and simply raised her eyebrow at them as she spoke. "We are guests within this space, a’rheasu..."

Using the Romulan word for 'dear hearts' that they understood a degree better than Federation Standard, Jaeih continued. "We are all to be on our best behavior. Only then, shall you sample the treats your Aunt Hera is baking for you."

The children loved their 'Hu'nanov' dearly, but they were also quickly learning to obey her as well. Perhaps, to their parent's consternation, they obeyed Grandma a bit more then they obeyed their actual parents.

The children, hands freed, waddled curiously behind Jaeih. In truth, Jaeih's warning was likely not all that needed as their Miradonian eyes could easily see the brilliant, golden rainbow aura that the literal Goddess displayed at all times, and they tended to calm in her presence. "Thank you for your most intriguing invitation. It will do the children well to explore more of the ship, and I am sure they will enjoy your generous efforts."

Then, Jaeih handed the paper back to the Goddess with cookies. "This was a most curious means of relaying a message, but I was not sure if you needed it back."

"Not necessarily, however I find it is best not to leave such things laying around," Hera replied as she tucked it away and finished her preparations, settling the last batch into a six segmented ceramic bowl that showed scenery of birds and butterflies around the edges. "I tried several no-bake cookie recipes with non-Miradonian multigrain mixes and honey and I think I have several that should be pleasing to both their palettes and yours, if you're willing to try. The energies are at least similar to what I experienced on Miradon."

"Well then, I believe the children and myself would be most please to sample your wares." Jaeih said to the goddess she had initially been quite distant and cold to in their first meeting. The intel operative had learned that it was that same aura, invisible to her eyes, that had been acting upon her for months. As the goddess of Mothers and Family, Hera's energies were free to all that embodied their spirit and accepted their purpose, and the Romulan woman deeply wished to be a better mother to her daughter her on the Hera. As such, for months Jaeih had been unknowingly drinking deep of that very wellspring of maternal energy.

Once she had learned of it, she was initially dismayed. But the two women, so different in many ways, but the same in one key factor... that of being mothers seeking redemption... reconciled on Mona Gonadie's homeworld.

"Children." Jaeih said, looking down at the three sets of wide, blinking copper eyes who were literally thrumming with excitement at the prospect of the treats they could smell. "What do we say when we would like a treat."

Sticking their tiny hands out, all three said in chirping unison, "Aeher!"

Jaeih smiled lightly and raised a finger. "And in Federation standard?"

For a moment, all three paused, looking at each other, clearly in a silent conversation that their unique bond allowed them to have. Then, they looked back up with adorable determination, as Tala spoke first, her voice a tiny squeak. "P'EEES?"

Then Vana and Ami joined in, repeating the word. "P'EEEEES?"

"Ooooh you three are sooo adorable!" Hera gushed with motherly delight at the sight of the overwhelming cuteness before her, her aura flaring to life so much that it was likely that even Jaeih could even see it. She then knelt down with the six segmented bowl and smiled brightly at the cute chicks. "There's no way I could ever deny any of you treats. How about we start with the toasted sesame seed cookies first then?"

With that, the elderly matron pulled out five of the lightly toasted little balls and handed one to each of the chicks and one to Jaeih, keeping one for herself. "I made this one with mostly sesame seeds, clover honey, and ground oats."

While the observant Romulan did notice that Hera's aura had become visible on a spectrum that her own eyes could pick up, she made no mention of it, nor did she noticeably react in any way, feeling that to do so might be considered rude. Instead, she held up the offered treat and spoke to the children, who were eyeballing them, looking fit to burst as they awaited permission.

"VERY exceptional manners. Now, what do we say?" Jaeih said authoritatively. "In Rihan and Standard."

Going through the similar process, the three girls looked at each other, nodded and looked back at Hera with wide eyes and beaming smiles, their Romulan a little clearer than their Federation standard. "Khnai'ra... n' t'ank oo."

Then, without waiting for a reply, their natures as children took over and they began to excitedly devour their offered treats. At the same time, Jaeih took a bite of hers and pondered it a moment. "Sweet, but not overly so. Pleasant texture and a... hearty... flavor. Quite enjoyable. Thank you."

Popping the tiny cookie into her own mouth, Hera chewed delightfully. "You are all such polite children. Let me know when you're ready for another and Auntie Hera will serve you up another one, ok?" With a wink to Jaeih, she pointed at the next cookies. They're a multigrain, cocoa, and molasses mix that your grandparents on Miradon gave me the recipe for. I had to substitute everything in it... But I think I got it pretty close."

"Oh, exceedingly polite, except when they are swooping down on their grandmother's head like the little raptors they are." Jaeih said with a wry smile, looking down at the children who were happily munching away. As she did, Hlai'vana looked up and, with her mouth full, giggled for a bit.

"We may let these treats settle a moment. Let them savor them and appreciate your efforts." Jaeih said to Hera, finishing her own off. "We have not spoken much since returning to the ship from their birth. How have you been?"

Hera smiled brightly once more, almost glowing with visible light once again. "I would be remiss if I did not mention that it was one of the most refreshing and rejuvenating worlds I have ever been to. Miradon is a fascinating, energy rich world and I can see how their pantheon has survived the mortal age of enlightenment."

"Mona believes deeply." Jaeih said, speaking with the goddess casually and without the pretenses she often kept up with others on the ship. "I believe she was... embarrassed at first for that level of faith to be known here on the ship, even with Mnhei'sahe. But she has become more open with those feelings, for which I am glad."

"As much as these children are Romulan, they are also Miradonian, and they should know of their people's faiths. Of the Elements and their Moon Goddess. Of Al'thindor and the Trickster. It is a part of what makes them what they are." Jaeih said, an openness in her voice not often heard.

"Of that, we agree," the matronly goddess replied as she finished nibbling on her own cookie. "Whether we're thought of advanced beings with access to higher planes of existence or deities makes little difference. In the end, we've had a historical importance in the development and golden age in most, if not almost all, sentient races such as your own. It honors us to be remembered at the very least."

"And you can't deny who you are or your history," Hera added, waving a finger in the air.

The smile on Jaeih's face dimmed slightly as she considered her own checkered past, and the atrocities she had once committed as an agent of the Tal'Shiar. And while the scale was obviously different, she knew enough to know it was something else she shared with the woman once known as the Tyrant Goddess of Meroset.

"It is a poor way to learn. What is the human phrase? Those that forget history are destined to repeat it?" Jaeih said, looking to Hera, "Not something either of us would wish for, I would wager?"

Hera nodded solemnly, understanding the point and offering a bit of wisdom of her own. "There is another saying about a beast reverting to wild ways once you strip away training and civility. It's a bit crude but it may..."

Waddling over, chubby little Hlai'vana tugged gently on the edge of Hera's flowing robes as all three children smiled with large, soulful eyes, clearly trying to weaponize their cuteness in the pursuit of more treats.

"And these little ones have learned how to get Auntie Hera to spoil them, haven't they? Well, I may be obliged. I could never turn down such cuties, after all." With that, Hera reached into the bowl and pulled out five more cookies and handed them out - one to each of the chicks, one to Jaeih, and one for herself. "These are the multigrain and molasses cookies. You let me know if they're good, ok?"

Taking the offered cookies, this time the uniquely dubbed 'GoDox' triplets offered up their required thank yous without any prompting from Jaeih and dug into the treats ravenous. As they munched down on the sweets, they made a series of chirpy noises pointing out, once again, their avian nature. 

"I will admit, that I do not have much of a... sweet tooth. So, I will express my appreciation for the blending of flavors and grains that provide quite a flavor variety in each treat." Jaeih said with a nod as she sampled the multigrain molasses cookie delicately. "Your efforts in this kitchen are not in vain."

"That said, no matter what we may have become at different points in our existences, neither of us began as beasts, my dear." Jaeih added, pointedly. "And as such, we may choose who we wish to be regardless of our circumstances."

"Perhaps as a mortal, you have that choice. However, as an Ambrosian I am still molded by those whose thoughts I reside within." Hera spoke softly, almost as if she were revealing one of her biggest secrets as she nibbled on her cookie. "Ah, but once you remove the trappings of civilization and place any person in the cruel realities of base nature, one must do what one must to survive, no? I believe that is what the saying is meant to imply."

As the children finished their treats, they began to play at the feel of the two women, giggling and chirping happily. Realizing the Hera had just made a fairly substantial admission, the Romulan matron raised a brow and nodded. It was an expression that truly reminded anyone that knows Mnhei'sahe just how much the mother and daughter truly had in common.

"I would speak to Commander Paris on that concept, as I believe if there is a better example of one who can maintain their moral center under almost any circumstances, it would be her." Jaeih said with what could almost be the hint of admiration in her voice.

"As for what it means to be Ambrosian, I obviously cannot say that I thoroughly understand. There is much to your unique nature that I am admittedly ignorant of. But I am also not closed off to a apt metaphor." Jaeih said with the unguarded smile she shared with very few other individuals. "And metaphorically, you of all beings know that I am who I am right now, in large part because of who I surround myself with. Their influence has made me more than I could have been otherwise."

"So, as long as that choice is mine, I choose to be where I can be the woman I wish to." The observant Romulan noted. "For me, that is with Mnhei'sahe, Mona, these children, and you. I have no illusions that your aspect has influenced me for the better. For you, for all of us, it is quite clear that it is your bond with Commander Paris."

"So, you should be quite safe in being who you are for a good while, because as we are both abundantly aware... that woman is incapable of giving up. She will drag you wherever she goes." Jaeih concluded with a legitimately warm, though wry, smile.

The matronly goddess couldn't help but respond with a motherly and warm smile. "You are so very right. She has one of the strongest wills I have ever known. With her around, I can be my best self and I can offer up my aura to those around me so that they too may be their best."

"And the choice of continuing to do so is entirely mine. Just as continuing my hobby of baking." With a wink, the elder woman pointed out the bowl of tiny cookies. "After all, that's something a mother would do, isn't it? create delicious treats for children?"

"As an Ambrosian, our personalities may change based on those around us... But we still have our own goals, hopes and dreams. Like Hades being a submissive to his wife Persephone, or Demeter's insistence upon serving nothing but that crunchy vegan whole grain nonsense to her family and driving Persephone to the underworld just to get away from her..."

Hera sighed heavily, her hands on her knees. "I suppose just being able to speak of such things calmly, knowing that Persephone is the fruit of my former husband's indiscretions is a sign of how much Rita has changed me. Along with that, I am now here to enjoy the finer joys of life with you and these children now. One of the greatest things in life are a child's peals of laughter."

"Even the delightful laughter of that little Minotaur I've seen you smile at." Jaieh said with a wry grin, mentioning the adopted daughter of Ensign's Gavarus and O'Dell that was also a child of Zeus, showing that the Romulan woman had clearly done her research on not only Hera's history with the ship that bore her name, but also the mythological history of her pantheon. "You deserve your joy, and the pride you take in it."

Hera couldn't help but grin peacefully at the thought of the little minotaur babe. "You know, when I granted Rita that boon I never expected her to say what she did. In essence, she granted me a boon - the freedom to all but ignore the majority of my Ambrosian nature and become the very best goddess that I can be. No more Olympian voice, no more mortal retribution, no more uncalled for vengeance upon my ex-husband's... Well... No more negativity in general."

"And you know what? It's a bit scary. I haven't had this much freedom to be myself since I was less than a hundred years old." The matronly goddess waggled her finger. "And back then, the titans still roamed the galaxy, the Klingon gods pulled my hair at camp, and I had no idea who I really was. So who am I now?"

"I'm finding that out a bit more every day."