“Whuh– What do you think it is, captain?” asked Lieutenant Aneasa.  The trepidation in her voice was made all the more evident by the way she lurked in the doorway, not quite entering, but not stepping back into the corridor either.

The crew lounge had been otherwise empty, aside from Captain Jeffrey Holmgren and his burdensome thoughts.  The illumination was down to fifty percent, which made the LCARS panel across the compartment look all the brighter.  He could see Aneasa staring at the communication waveform scrolling across the display, as distorted as it was by signal interference.

“You can’t ask me that,” Holmgren replied with the gentlest sardonic twist to his inflection.  He shook his head at her with a repressed smile and then he returned his attention to a PADD in his grasp.  His manipulation of its sensor controls reflected in changes to communication waveform on the display.

Playfully, Holmgren said, “I’m not really here, remember?  This is a training mission.  The cadets are in command of the Exeter.  Not me.”

“Yes, well… technically,” Aneasa said.  The way she emphasised that word came across as reluctance.  “Turn out from cadets has been rather low.  Given crew shortages across the fleet after Frontier Day, many of our cadets and Exeter crew members have been assigned to new ships.  We’ve had to recruit volunteers from all over Starbase Bravo to staff key positions in their absence…”

Shaking his head, Holmgren added, “In any event, they don’t need the starbase’s chief science officer looking over their shoulders.”  –He swept a hand at the Paulson Nebula’s swirling red and purple stellar dust and gasses out the viewports– “I only came for the scenery.”

“I wouldn’t ask in any official capacity,” Aneasa said.  “The thing is… there’s a bet.  We’re taking wagers on the origins of the mysterious sig–“

“A wager?  Isn’t the thrill of mystery enough for you all?” Holmgren asked in mock outrage.  “The entire purpose of this training mission is to study the effect the Paulson Nebula has on comms technology.  We suspect that not only did its stellar mass interfere with the Borg assimilation broadcast from Jupiter, but the nebula’s spatial anomalies may have protected Starbase Bravo from the Borg’s subspace transmissions.  

“If the nebula is interfering with another communication today,” Holmgren excitedly said, “then this is the perfect opportunity for experimentation!”

Aneasa remarked, “I only bring it up because I bet on the signal being Romulan.  Free State specifically.”

“Oh… Oh no,” Holmgren muttered.  He stabbed at his PADD with his index finger.  The waveform on the screen spun in the opposite direction as several of the gaps began to fill in.

“What?  Wait, what?” Aneasa asked.  “Did I lose the bet?”

“I think I recognise it,” Holmgren said at a whisper.  “It looks– it looks like a homing beacon…

“And I think its origin is Borg.”

“You’re up early.”  Phil Goldsmith sat in the cafeteria, coffee in hand.  His fellow cadet, Natalie Harris, wasn’t an early bird.

Harris was tying up her hair, “I’ve been assigned to the Exeter for a training exercise.  Orders were to move quickly and get onboard.”  She sat, taking a long drink from her cup of black coffee, “You haven’t signed up to take part, Phil.” He hesitated and dug into his hashbrowns. The silence was like a canyon between them, and Natalie wasn’t sure what he was avoiding talking about.  She pressed, “Phil.”

He dropped the silverware with a clatter that startled Natalie.  His eyes darted from her to the room and every place in between.  “I’m…I’m not sure I want to do this anymore, Nat.  The Borg, the Changelings…I thought I was over it, and I thought I was through it…now I don’t know for sure.”  He stared at his plate, his face red from the outburst.  A sigh escaped his lips, “My parents are worried about what’s out there.  My older brother nearly died on his assignment.  He resigned after his treatment.  He’s going to work for my father.”

Natalie wasn’t sure what to say to her friend.  The fallout from Frontier Day continued to ripple throughout the universe.  Locally at Mellstoxx III, it had been a mixed bag. Some had been energized by the new threat and committed themselves to service in Starfleet.  Others had decided it wasn’t for them.  She spoke gently, “Phil…I wouldn’t blame you…or think less of you.”

He managed a half smile through the shine of his eyes.  “Thanks, Nat.”  He sniffled and worked to compose himself, “I think I just…I wanted this so bad…and so much…that I needed to buckle down and push harder.  I don’t think that works for me.  It works for some people.”

She put a hand on his and he gripped it tightly, “I think you’ve made your mind up, Phil.”  He agreed and asked her to accompany him to the Commendant’s office.  She walked him there and waited until he was done.  They walked wordlessly back to his dorm.  Natalie offered to help him pack, and he accepted the help.  A few hours later, he stood on the transporter pad, waving a quiet wave as the bright beam took him away.  Natalie felt his absence and knew it would take her time to find a new friend.  She picked up her bag and mounted the pad, “One for transport to the Exeter.”

The lights brightened and blurred her world.

As Cal-Dorn took his first steps off of the shuttle he couldn’t help but smile at his first deep space assignment. Though being back on a Starbase brought with it a looming sense of dread. Unconsciously running his fingers over the scars of Borg prosthetics that now laced the fingers of his right hand.

His first rotation as a cadet had been with the Advanced Operations Center on Earth. Months spent cooped up in a lab in San Francisco analyzing the effectiveness of multispectral phasers against various shield harmonics. Everyday craving the opportunity for even the slightest change to the monotony, anything to add some excitement to his life. When it came time to install the new phasers for further testing in orbit Cal had jumped at the chance. Thriving in the upbeat atmosphere of Sol Station. 

Saw the legendary Enterprise-F depart on Frontier Day and that’s where his memories of the day ended. At some point in his assimilation aboard the station had had suffered severe plasma burns. His left arm needing to be amputated below the elbow. The limb had already been replaced with a biosynthetic one but Cal knew it was still not the same.

Shaking the memory from his mind, he followed the lieutenant assigned to collect him and continued through the doors to begging his tour of the station. 

The Lieutenant seemed nice enough but visibly annoyed about being on cadet tour guide duty. As the pair entered Delta Sector Cal couldn’t help but marvel at the sheer scale of the station’s extensive shipyards.

”one day…“ he mumbled to himself looking over the ships in various stages of construction or refitting, before jogging to catch up with his guide whom had moved on without him.

”And this is the academy campus, you’ll find your dorm assignment and class schedule on this pad. Welcome to Starbase Bravo“ The lieutenant had hardly finished their sentence and fake smile before handing Cal the pad and walking off grumbling about what an insult to his rank playing tour guide was.

Cole sat at a table in The Gate Inn and had ordered a drink from Terry. The barkeep had brought the drink and had picked up on Cole’s demeanor.

“Everything alright, Cole?” he asked the young Ensign.

Cole placed his glass on the table and looked up.

“I’ll be okay, Terry. Thanks for asking.” he replied. “Just need some me time.”

Terry nodded his understanding and went back to work.

Cole had been a senior at the Academy when Frontier Day had happened and gad arrived at Starbase Bravo shortly afterwards. Now he was hearing rumors of more Borg action and had been in the middle of an important investigation when the Exeter had taken some volunteers and left out to do some investigating of it’s own. It wasn’t that he was an action junkie, he knew the job he did on the base was important. And he was apparently doing it well seeing as he had just been promoted up to Investigations Officer. He was just feeling a bit down about himself that he wasn’t able to do more. It wasn’t like much was going to happen on the base.

“Computer, isolinear chip drive” Cal had been surprised the Cadet Union’s holosuites weren’t already booked out. But had jumped at the chance to walk right into a 2 hour private session. As the doors sealed behind him he inserted the chip into the awaiting drive, navigating through his personal files and extracting his user preferences.

“Load program Prax Delta 7” the operations center of a Federation Shipyard materializing around him. Cal took a moment to wander the ops center, he knew it was a long way away but he still found himself yearning for the chance to design a real starship. Making his way to an engineering station he opened another labeled ‘Project Locutor’. Anyone watching him would assume it a feat of hubris but since watching the squadron of Inquiry class cruisers appear in orbit of Trill, he had been fascinated by the class. Soon the fascination had become at obsession, he’d spent hours on the holodeck working on his design for an Inquiry variant.  

He had taken inspiration from early plans for the Ross Class he had encountered during his time at the Advanced Operations Centre. A focussed command and control ship with greater self-sufficiency at the cost of versatility. After months of designing redesign and scrapping his various ideas he was making progress on a viable design. Even if only a passion project he hoped that he would be able to include its design in applications for ship design roles. His most significant departure from the original Inquiry class design had been the removal of the interchangeable mission pods. 

Cal envisioned the as-yet-unnamed class at the centre of smaller battle groups operating for extended periods of time away from spacedock. Necessitating the inclusion of a small industrial replicator suite and expanded auxiliary craft. Though the increase to the ship’s mass and power requirements placed added strain on a Class-9 warp core. Despite his best attempts to re-tune the core for the new hull geometry had reduced the ship’s top speed significantly. 

“Alright let’s try this again” talking to himself had always been a helpful way to make sense of a mind moving faster than he could fully understand. Though the isolation of Advanced Ops had only reinforced the habit.

“Computer, load the Project Locutor bridge prototype and route engineering data to command station.” As he spoke the scene around him shifted to an adapted Inquiry bridge, taking the captains chair a subtle smirk stretched across his face “Run test-flight interstellar space, I want to run another efficiency test on the warp field stability above 9.5”

“Punch it” He was still working on his warp phrase, Captain Pike’s hit it had been an early frontrunner but Cal had at least wanted to try add his own spin to it even if it was the same spin so many cadets had gravitated toward so easily. 

“Warp 9.5 achieved” the holodeck’s announcement brought him back to his experiment. Slowly he pushed the simulated ship closer and closer to the Inquiry class’ top speed, 9.6, 9.7, 9.8.

“Warp 9.9, simulated core showing minor fluctuation” Cal watched his console as the various monitoring data came through. The instability was to be expected but he doubted it would be enough to be a notable issue. 

“It will stabilize, accelerate to 9.95” 

“Warp field integrity failing, risk of violent deceleration 17%, 24%, 37%, 49%…” as the computer continued Cal tried to reduce the ship’s simulated speed yet even below Warp 9 the fluctuations continued.

“Computer save program” he took note of the adjustments he had made to the design before retrieving his isolinear chip and exiting the holodeck feeling dejected.

Cal had planned to scope out the academy campus further but his struggles with the Locutor had soured his mood. On Earth he would have taken a transporter trip to Paris to clear his head after a rough day in the lab. On Sol station he’d taken to watching the planet below from one of the station’s many observation decks after long hours recalibrating shield harmonics. Here on Starbase Bravo he was yet to find his niche, his tour guide had rushed him through the recreational facilities, only stopping on the odd occasion that Cal had lingered in a single spot long enough for him to notice. Not knowing where else to go he took a turbo lift to Delta section. Hoping that even watching ship construction from afar would be enough to shake him from his rut. 

“Even Chief O’Brien struggled to get the Defiant operational” he had been telling himself the same thing ever since he’d had the initial ideas for the Locutor. O’Brien had been Cal’s inspiration for pursuing engineering classes at the academy, the young cadet even taking additional engineering courses as electives in the hopes he would one day meet the legendary professor.

Looking out over the exploratory cruisers being refitted and restocked he found a dull sense of calm, his agitation slowly fading away.

“All will be well” he took a deep breath and headed back toward his quarters.

Fidgeting with his cadet rank pips was a terrible habit, and yet Cal’s propensity to do it had only increased since he had joined Starbase Bravo. Something about being so close to graduating, so close to being back at the bottom of the totem pole, it unnerved him. Four years was a long time, the fresh faced boy who had joined the academy as Cal Dorn felt like a different person. In some ways he was, the Cal he had been before joining with the Prax symbiont was for all intents and purposes dead and in his place a new Cal had emerged.

A survivor, that was the way the doctors had described him after the Borg assimilation and plasma burns that had robbed him of his original left arm. Before him, Prax had been a pilot, a doctor, a xenobiologist and an author, all of whom had lived long happy safe lives whilst joined with the symbiont. Yet mere months into his time as a Joined Trill Prax had already endured severe injuries requiring life-saving surgery. 

Despite his best efforts and that of multiple counselors, Cal could not erase the memory of awakening after his assimilation with Borg augmentations and burns covering his body. Feeling Prax’s condition deteriorate, certain that it would only be a matter of time before one of them died inevitably dooming the other. Still he remembered the sickening scent of charred flesh he had accepted as the last thing he would ever experience before fading into the void. The distant echo of voices incomprehensible against the ringing of his ears.

In the end, Cal spent over a month in the Sol Station hospital, as doctors tended to his injuries in consultation with a representative from the Trill Guardians seconded to Earth to tend to Joined Trill caught up in the Borg incursion.

Learning to use the biosynthetic arm had been a challenge on its own but juggling the codependent health of Host and Symbiont had proved an even greater struggle. When Cal overworked himself trying to retrain his new arm, his increased cortisol and blood pressure was enough to cause Prax to develop a minor aneurysm. Much to the disapproval of the Guardians, one of which had tried to have Cal deemed unfit for active duty and forcibly placed on extended medical leave. Though the doctors overseeing his care had quickly put a stop to it. 

Yet despite plasma burns, aneurysms and assimilation they had survived. Even now the pair’s recovery was still ongoing, Cal had only been approved to return to full duties with under the condition he commit to 6 months of regular check-ins with Trill doctors and any subsequent immunotherapy injections they deemed necessary to ensure host and symbiont did not contract any further ailments whilst still recovering. 

Returning to his dorm and the lab on Sol station had been difficult, many of the officers and cadets from Advanced Ops he had once worked so closely with were either dead or had already sought reassignment, trying to find new purpose away from the station that had played host to such traumatic events.

Cal looked out over the satellite campus that would be his final posting as a cadet. The artificial lighting dimmed to give the impression of a rudimentary day/night cycle before slipping off his uniform and climbing into bed. 

Dawa paced the length of her ship, propelled by her nervous energy. She was almost ready to go.

She had the craft: the USS Ophiuchus, an Orion-class runabout that would get them to the secured research facility and back as a brisk warp 8.

She had the cargo: horrifying pieces of former Borg capable of doing who-knows-what, safely secured (she hoped, oh she hoped).

All she needed was the crew, and she stared out one of the runabout’s windows, hoping that at least one of them would emerge from the busy crowd of dockworkers and flight personnel.

Stepping up into the craft, Arwa looked calmly around and saw Dawa. “Ahh, Commander, everything okay? You seem to have seen a ghost?” She walked to one of the seats and sat down. “If you require someone to talk to, feel free to talk to me. I am present during the journey.”

“Ah!” Dawa smiled in relief and propelled herself into the seat directly next to Arwa. It wasn’t even the pilot’s seat. “Lieutenant el-Imam, right? It’s so nice to meet you. I’m so glad to be able to help you with your research project! And hey, the more the merrier on this trip as far as I’m concerned!”

Giving a firm nod to her. “Yes, that is the right attitude, and thank you for allowing me to participate in this social research. It is not every day that I get approval for such an observation.” Arwa smiled in her direction.

Irric strode onto the Orion-class vessel, the weight the perilous task they were about to embark on evident in his stride. He had been ordered to carve out some free time in his busy schedule to oversee security on this particular mission, momentarily setting aside his ongoing investigations.

Inside the vessel, he caught sight of the pilot, Lieutenant Commander Vlček, deep in conversation with a woman donned in a striking teal uniform. Irric observed their interaction for a moment before making his approach.

“Lieutenant Commander Nuni,” he introduced himself with a nod, “I’m here to ensure the safety of this mission and provide my tactical insights as needed.”

He shifted his attention to the woman dressed in teal, his curiosity evident in his expression, and remarked, “Speaking of security, I had no prior knowledge that a scientist would be accompanying us on this mission.”

Looking at the commander, Arwa smiled. “Counselor, and last minute call.” She kindly corrected him, “I am Lieutenant el-Imam, Deputy Director of Counseling at Starbase Bravo. A pleasure to meet you, Commander. I might state my position, but for this mission, I function as a counselor with the aim of observation.” 

Irric’s lips tightened as he absorbed the Lieutenant’s explanation. His discomfort was evident in the slight furrow which seemed to deepen his ridge, but he understood that altering the situation was beyond his authority. He pivoted to face Vlček, his eyes reflecting his concern as he asked, “Is the object securely in place?”

Dawa nodded emphatically. “Double and triple-checked by Lieutenant Gideon, the officer who recovered it from storage, and then by myself, but I’d greatly appreciate a third set of eyes on the cargo. Get a pro to confirm that I’ve secured it correctly. You can’t really be too careful, right?” she said, her words rushing together the more she spoke. She overlaid her last question with a bubbly laugh that skirted uncomfortably close to panic at the very end. She swallowed it down with a grimace as she thought about the counselor directly over her shoulder.

Irric’s dissatisfaction manifested in a low, exasperated grunt. The unfolding situation left him deeply uneasy, with a determined stride, he withdrew from the conversation, his gaze set on the cargo he needed to inspect.

Seeing the tension onboard made Arwa take notes and started to tap away on her PADD to gather information on this piece of research. She looked eventually up. “How long would this flight take? Out of curiosity.” She smiled in Dawa direction. 

“Oh, uh, about 36 hours there and another 36 hours for the return trip at maximum warp,” she said with a weak smile.

Irric rejoined the group, a confident smile playing on his lips as he observed, “Seems like we’re all set.” His eyes wandered around the ship’s interior, a hint of nostalgia in his gaze. “It’s been a while since I’ve had the chance to lay my eyes on an Orion-class vessel, let alone had the opportunity to travel in one.”

Dawa breathed a sigh of relief. Having the cargo triple-checked had put her mind at ease, and now she had an opportunity to get back to the topic of something she knew and loved: starships.

“Well then you are in for a treat, Commander!” She practically jumped into the pilot’s seat and began the final pre-flight checks. “Hitting warp 8 in a vessel this small is a hell of a trip. You’ll find it either intolerable or exhilarating, there’s no in-between.”

Right on cue, the voice of flight ops chimed in through the comms. “USS Ophiuchus, you are cleared for departure.”

Renu had been working on the ships that had been in the shipyards with repairs and removing anything dealing with the fleet formation mode. After deciding to take a break as he hadn’t eaten much that day, he approached the promenade. He looked like he hadn’t slept in days even though he had, just longer work hours than usual as most of his staff had left onboard the Exeter for the mission within the Paulson Nebula. Making his way to a cozy restaurant that wasn’t so busy and had a cozy homey feel to it and sat down. 

Cole’s investigation had stalled. A good portion of his remaining suspects had been sent out on missions about the Borg. He had been given the option and had decided to stay behind. After tracking down the last suspect that was still aboard the base and clearing him, he decided it was time to get something to eat. his stomach had reminded him, and not for the first time, that he hadn’t eaten all day. He entered the restaurant and was happy to see that it wasn’t very busy. With the option of many open tables, he didn’t feel like eating alone. Looking around, he saw another officer sitting alone. Cole made his way over.

“Hi there. Mind if I join you?” he asked and waited for a reply.

“Ah good afternoon,” Renu replied seeing the young Ensign whom he’d met during the fiasco that happened a few days back. “Be my guest,” he added motioning for one of the empty chairs.

“Thank you,” replied Cole as he pulled out the chair. He sat down the tray he was carrying. The plate contained a cheeseburger and fries and he had opted for tea as a drink. “It’s good to see you again, Commander. How have things been?”

As Renu was about to reply, the doors opened, revealing the presence of an officer in a crisp command uniform holding his PADD. He then walked up to the replicator and briskly said “Pasta with presto and a cup of coffee, black”.

Renu looked over in the young man’s direction, “care to join us?” Renu asked looking at him.

Alexander walked towards the table, and with a nod, he replied, “Sure, why not? I could use some company,” taking his seat.

“Lieutenant Commander Renu Trol, Deputy Director of Shipyard Operations.” Renu introduced before looking at Cole, “This is Ensign Cole Shepard,” he introduced.

“Lieutenant Commander Alexander V’Lelk, Intelligence Officer,” introduced Alexander. “I just transferred from Starbase 234” he added.

“Nice to meet you,” Renu replied with a soft smile. “So how are you both settling on Starbase Bravo?” he asked.

Cole took a drink and realized that he was the lowest rank at the table. But it didn’t bother him. Everyone here had been really friendly since his arrival.

“It’s definitely a huge place.” he began with his answer. “And it can be a bit overwhelming but I’m learning my way around.”

“It is, but there is some beauty in that,” Renu replied as they continued to chat amongst themself about different subjects. Things would continue for about an hour before he realized he needed to get back to work. He smiled at the two. “Thanks for joining me but duty calls.” Renu said as he grabbed his plates and placed them in the replicator for recycling before he walked out.

As Cam entered Downtime, the lounge lived up to its infamous reputation. Gleaming tritanium and duranium surfaces adorned the interior, reflecting the dim ambient lighting that gave the place an air of clandestine secrecy. The low hum of conversations and the occasional clinking of glasses created a background symphony of whispered deals and junior officers letting off some steam.

In the corner of the room, a Caitian woman sat at a small table. Her slender furry fingers held a lit cigarette, and wisps of smoke danced around her, casting a mysterious aura. Cam’s familiarity with this scene came from numerous encounters with Lieutenant K’Ress, who had introduced him to the intriguing world of Downtime.

Taking a seat at her table, Cam leaned in, a sly grin playing on his lips. “Seems like they’ve given a green Ensign the task of upgrading our birds,” he commented with a hint of amusement. “I’ve asked him to meet us here before we head out. I’m eager to hear what he’s got to say about it.”

“Oh? What sort of upgrades are we talking about?” Shenzi asked, curious about what was going down. “Shields? Weapons? I’m always down for improving my fighter.” Shenzi rolled her cigarette between her fingers before taking another drag on it.

Cam grinned and quipped, “Honestly, I’m still in the dark about the specifics. I’m counting on him to break it down for me, so I can avoid delving into the manual.” He then signaled the bartender to prepare his drink.

Cal entered the bar looking slightly disheveled, a pair of pads tucked under his arm. He had spent much of the night communicating with a previous host of his symbiont. In life Turad Prax had been a talented pilot, surviving a disastrous crash in the Tenaran ice cliffs. Cal had hope Turad’s experience would win him some favour with the pilots. Making his way to the bar he ordered a bourbon before noticing the waiting pilots. With a quick flourish he downed the glass before taking a seat at the pairs table. 

”I would assume Lieutenants Shenzi and Solari? Ensign Cal-Dorn Prax, you can call me Cal.“ he placed the pads on the table before sliding them toward each of the pilot officers. “I had a few ideas for how to adapt your craft but as a pilot in another life I thought it best to get your inputs before I started tearing out EPS conduits and installing cup-holders” he laughed as he spoke hoping to break the tension and distract himself from the stress of tinkering with active duty fighter craft.

Cam reached for the PADD on the table, examining it closely. A barely perceptible smile tugged at the corners of his lips as he attempted to maintain a stern demeanor. 

With a carefully controlled tone, he asked, “So, you are one of them joined ones?”

“Oh um. Yes Sir I am. Why do you ask?” Cal was slightly confused as to why his Joined status was so important to the Lieutenant but also didn’t want to offend him by offering a short response.

“Oh, just wondering what sort of experiences you might have from previous hosts. Maybe you got some memories of a star-crossed lover, pining towards the Sarella Nebula.” Shenzi teased, getting a mug of coffee from the bartender. One of her ears rotated towards what sounded like a bad breakup happening on the other side of the bar away from the group.

Cam’s lips quivered, his cheeks turning crimson as he clamped down on the bubbling laughter within. His brows furrowed, creating a strained, serious countenance that, if one were to guess, It could also resemble the look of someone in urgent need of a bathroom break. With rapt attention, he studied the Ensign’s face, eager to witness his impending response.

Cal laughed awkwardly “Oh, you’ve read  Ralo’s books then, I mean it’s hardly my cup of tea but if Archer X Tucker smut is what you want to read on your time off” he did his best not to blush at the publications of his most recent host. Ralo Prax had spent her life striving for literary acclaim with a series of dense heart breaking novels only for a novella she’d written to in her early twenties to be rereleased, forever connecting Ralo Prax with the shipping of two legendary historic figures. He looked over at the two lieutenants, trying his best to hold in his awkward laugh not understanding the pair were clearly messing with him. 

“Mmmm, her books weren’t too bad, but I did write a story when I was younger about a Caitian woman and several strong studly Andorian men” she said, smirking while wiggling her eyebrows, the end of her tail twitching a bit. Shenzi ordered a trio of energy drinks, and popped one open, relishing the satisfying hiss as the can opened.

“Oh how interesting, anyway the fighters. I had some ideas, Lieutenant Shenzi I am open to hearing what sort of alterations you were interested in but I have prepared an upgraded primary railgun for your Valkyrie. It uses a new higher yield EPS capacitor which allows you to dial in the acceleration and recharge times on the fly. I thought it would give you more options switching between high energy sniper shots and lower projectile energy at a higher rate of fire.” As he spoke he guided Shenzi through the adjustments he had hoped to make which would require him to rip out parts of the Valkyrie’s cockpit to reach certain EPS junctions.

Cam’s eyes crinkled at the corners, a subtle grin playing on his lips. He observed the Ensign, noting the confident stance and steady gaze. It was evident without words that this Ensign could hold his own.

“And for you Lieutenant Solari, I actually adapted an old United Earth electronic projectile system to allow you to fire more micro-torpedos in a single burst. I had hoped to be able to enable multi-launch capabilities but given the size of an Apsara-class’s torpedo tubes its just not feasible without tearing the ship in half and reforming it around expanded tubes. It will be a solid-state magazine with the microtorpedos already loaded in tubes. When you fire the weapon an electrical charge passes through each tube in series ejecting the chosen number of rounds and priming the next torpedo in each tube… and its only slightly prone to overheating and explosions” he mumbled the final part of his description, bringing the lieutenants attention to the new torpedo launcher designs for the Apsara and the additional microtorpedos the ship could carry. 

Cam’s head inclined in a slow nod, his eyes fixed on Prax. Every word Prax uttered seemed to be carefully caught by Cam’s attentive focus, a silent recognition of the significance in each syllable.

“admittedly each individual microtorpedo is a lower yield but the fact you can carry and deploy significantly more at once, I thought it would be a favourable tradeoff” He looked over at the Lieutenants doing his best to conceal his desperation that they would be happy with his designs.

Cam’s eyes met Shenzi’s, a flicker of admiration in his gaze. “There’s something about this kid,” he mused. “Past lives, genius—it’s hard to pinpoint. But I can’t deny, he left me impressed. Your thoughts?”

“He certainly seems to know his stuff, I can’t deny that. I want to see how these modifications to my Valkyrie’s railguns work. You can’t go wrong with choosing railguns, after all.” Shenzi replied, grinning at the thought of the shear power her preferred armament for her Valkyrie, and it’s awaiting improvements.

Cal couldn’t help but smile at how impressed the lieutenants were at his suggestions. He had prepared himself for the pair to tear his ideas apart and ridicule him for daring to believe he knew what they wanted.

“Oh, why yes I agree, especially against…” he swallowed before continuing unconsciously running his fingers over the raised borg augmentation scars lining his hands “them… I trust I can have the refits done in a day or so. They’ll be in drydock 17A and B if you want to check on their progress otherwise I’ll hail you when we can take them for shakedown”

Dawa slowly circled the massive runabout one more time as she finished her exterior inspection. The USS Ophiuchus didn’t get out much these days due to its high-maintenance systems, but the local engineers had been crawling over it like ants the last several days in preparation for its vital mission.

Nothing better than the high-speed, powerfully equipped Orion class to courier Borg technology through the vacuum of space. “The faster, the better,” thought Dawa, who didn’t want to spend one second longer in close proximity to any of that disturbing detritus than she absolutely had to.

“Still, I can’t take off until the rest of the cargo gets here,” she muttered, scanning the hangar for any sign of a teal-colored uniform.

Gideon walked into the docking bay carrying a black case and looked around. “It can’t be that hard to find,” he thought to himself. He looked towards the center and spotted the large Orion-class runabout.

He walked over to the Ophiuchus and saw a red-colored uniform looking around. He walked up to her.

“Commander,” he said promptly.

Dawa took a deep breath and gave the scientist her best smile. Having a face attached to the crate of equipment made the machinery feel a little less menacing.

“I can’t tell you how grateful I am to see you,” said Dawa, realizing too late how strange it was to say that to someone she’d never met. “Ah, which is to say, I’m a little nervous about transporting this material, but you’re the one who dug it out of storage and you seem thoroughly unassimilated.”

She chuckled weakly as she crouched down with her PADD to check for the required “hazardous material” markings.

“I’m Dawa Vlček, by the way,” she said, glancing up at him as she continued her work. “What’s your name? I don’t recall seeing you around.”

It was an inane comment given the size of the station, but Dawa wanted to get a conversation flowing so that she wouldn’t be alone with the Borg bits.

“Gideon, ma’am. Lieutenant Gideon Johnson.” He said. “Are you ready to go?” He asked. He had been ready to get this over with when he found the piece. He has wanted to get as far away from this Borg tech as possible.

“I–”

Dawa stood up suddenly. She was not ready to go. She still needed her crew, and she didn’t want to be left with the Borg crate, alone in a sea of busy dockworkers and flight crew.

“I need you to review with me what or, uh, who? Or what part of who this technology used to be, and what odd reactions you may have noticed in it recently.”

She could read all of that herself, sure, but she wanted to get it from the horse’s mouth instead.

“When I was going through the inventory I noticed something moving in a box. When I took a closer look at what was inside of it… I found this thing,” he said holding the case away from his body. “I honestly couldn’t tell you what this thing is,” he said as he looked at her.

He stood there for a second. He had realized that she would want a more detailed response than that.

“It seems to be able to sense when people are nearby. It will start to move towards you in a way. Although if you stun it with a phaser it will immediately stop moving for around…” he said as he paused trying to remember how long it took before the thing started moving again. “Thirty seconds.”

Dawa visibly shuddered at his description. “Ugh, maybe I’ll try setting mine to ‘kill’ instead.”

She tapped the box with her foot. “But it’s definitely secured now though, right?”

“Yes, ma’am,” he said.

“Well, alright,” she said reluctantly. She lifted the crate, just large enough to almost get her arms around, and shuffled towards the cargo lift. “Let us know if you find anything else, Lieutenant Gideon!”

As an afterthought, she added, “But I hope you don’t!”

Mads frowned at the screen in front of her. Since Frontier Day, and with these new signals cropping up all over the place, the base was a flurry of activity. They were going over the base with a fine tooth-comb to make sure no systems were infected with anything, even dust it seemed, and every since storage location was being checked to make sure there wasn’t so much as a wayward cortical node aboard. 

That was the plan anyway. And so far in her checks, her teams had found nothing. Mostly it was checking that the contents of the storage bins, lockers and containers matched what was on the cargo manifest. 

Only… this location didn’t actually say what it contained. She checked the date of arrival and her eyes narrowed. It was the same date as a cargo of borg technology she’d already had moved to offsite secure storage. She certainly wasn’t going to send one of her junior officers in there, she needed to check this out herself. 

“Computer, log a request with security for an officer to meet me at the following location,” she said, rattling off the deck and section number for the storage location. 

Cole was still sitting in The Gates Inn, nursing his tea, when his PADD chirped. He was on duty so he had set it to take any calls that came in. Now a call came in requesting a security officer. He looked at the location.

Storage? he thought. He shrugged his shoulders and finished his drink. Standing up, he nodded to Terry and took his leave.

Once he was in the lift, he called up the manifest for the hold he was headed to. Everything seemed normal. He knew the Operations department was just going through everything and making sure it was all accounted for but he couldn’t fathom why security would be needed. He looked back at the request and for the first time, he realized who had sent it. Captain Thane-McGowen. This made him take a little more interest. A captain wouldn’t waste time calling security for nothing. He rode the rest of the way in silence.

A few minutes later, the lift came to a halt and the doors parted. He made his exit and walked the few dozen feet to the hold that he had been summoned to. He stepped inside and found the head of the Operations department already waiting for him.

“Captain. Ensign Cole Shepard, Security. You needed me for something, Ma’am?” he asked.

Mads looked up from the report she was scrolling through on her padd and offered a smile. “Yes, thank you for being so prompt. Please, if you’ll come with me.”

She turned and headed down the corridor, toward the storage locker. “I’m sure you’re aware that we’re checking all storage aboard at the moment and moving anything problematic to off site storage. Mostly it’s been going smoothly, but I’ve come across a locker with no contents listed on the manifest.”

She looked at him. “Which means we need to check it out personally.”

Being in Security, Cole had indeed heard about the task that was being under taken. He had almost gotten assigned to it himself. He turned and followed the Captain as she led the way to their destination.

“How did the locker get aboard the station with a blank manifest to begin with, Ma’am?” he asked as they walked.

He looked around as they walked and could see several other Operations and Science Officers that were going through lockers and crates as well.

“You mentioned moving problem items off the station. Have there been many?” he inquired. 

Mads shook her head. 

“It wouldn’t have… at least, it shouldn’t have. I have someone from ops tracking through the records to see if there was any data corruption and how far that might’ve spread. But this does seem to be the only location we’re not actually sure what’s in here. On the plus side, though,” she said, frowning as she checked the locker numbers they passed with the number on her padd. “It seems to be one of the smaller ones. So whatever is in here isn’t going to be that big.”

Not that would make much difference if it was Borg tech. Even the trace of a code was a problem, so she didn’t even want to think if they had something like a drone in here.

“There have been a few, yes,” she added, belatedly answering Cole’s question. “Tech we still had that was being worked on for some reason or another. It’s all been locked down and moved just to be on the safe side.”

Cole listened as they walked and tried to think of what sort of Borg tech it may be. The Captain had said it was pretty small and there was actually quite a few Borg items that fit that description.

“So what’s going to happen with all the stuff that’s getting moved? Is there a team going through it?” he inquired.

“As far as I know it’s all being either locked down in secure sites, or destroyed,” she said, giving a small shrug as they reached the locker. It was small, about the size of a lockbox, in a bank of lockers.

“Okay, this is us,” she commented, looking at a locker in the middle of the group. “Well, at least we’re going to be confronted with a drone or anything in there. Not unless it’s a very small one.”

Although, in her opinion, being confronted with a Drone was far less scary than having your own crew turn on you.

“Alright then.” Cole said. “How do you want to handle this, Captain? Is there a protocol we need to follow or do you just want me to open it?”

“I’ll open,” she said. “You… well, let’s both just be ready for whatever happens?”

With that, she punched in the release code, then the release button. She managed to avoid leaping back as they both looked into the blackness that was the interior of the storage locker…..

It took Cole a few seconds to realize that he had been holding his breathe. He wasn’t sure what it had been expecting but this wasn’t it. He finally released it when he looked into the abyss of the locker and saw absolutely nothing. 

“Well. That explains why there wasn’t anything listed on the manifest.” he said to the Captain. “But it now begs the question, why was there a manifest at all?”

He had a feeling that they were about to embark on a good fashion mystery.

The crew of the USS Exeter was getting ready for their maiden voyage, and it was full of cadets taking the lead in this mission. Arwa was there to supervise the counseling side, and guide where possible to cadets in stress or words of encouragement. She also just wanted to know how people think or how they are. She placed some boxes of medical equipment on one of the tables and took a breather. 

Linha Varen was working on inventory as there wasn’t currently much going on at that moment when she saw an officer walk in with boxes of medical equipment. She wasn’t going to lie as she felt a bit nervous going on this mission, after the events of Frontier Day though she had been spared from turning into the Borg all thanks to the Paulson Nebula blocking out the signal. She wasn’t all that thrilled about the recent reports and where they were going.

“Peh” Arwa let out, stretching her back a bit “What a work just to get out of the docking bays. Never expected the Exeter to be dusting off.” Looking at her side to Linha “Right?” She gave her a soft smile. “First time?”

She looked at Arwa and smiled though she wasn’t sure what she meant, “first time for?” She asked as she tilted her head a slight bit. 

“On an expedition to the unknown? On the Exeter?” Looking around, seeing everyone working “The excitement is not really ….” she rubs her two fingers together. “There…” Arwa looked back at Linha. “What do you think? About this mission, this ship, and the heading of the unknown.”

“Oh,” Linha replied with a smile. “I’ve been in the Paulson Nebula before during the Century Storm and have been on many different missions into the unknown,” Linha replied with a smile as she worked. 

Hearing what she had to say, “Oh, that is interesting. My apologizes for assuming you had no experience, dear.” Arwa smiled and placed the inside of the box onto the racks. “So on a scale of 1 to 10, with 10, of course, the most excited. What mission did you like the most, and what point would you give it?” 

She raised an eyebrow wondering why she would feel the need to apologise, “I wouldn’t rank any of the missions I’ve been to as they were all part of the job.” Linha replied as she wasn’t sure where this would be going or who this person even was. “Though I will introduce myself I am Linha Varen, medical cadet and you are?” She asked.

Turning her attention to the young cadet, she lowered the item and placed it down. Arwa nodded at the introduction and turned to her. “Pleasure to meet you, cadet. I am Lieutenant el-Imam, the Deputy Director of Counseling at Starbase Bravo.” She looked again a bit around. “But for this mission, I act as the Counselor for all crewmember’s mental support”

“Nice to meet you,” Linha replied with a soft smile. “Do you need assistance with those boxes?” Linha asked offering her help if it was needed.

Blinking a few times, totally forgot about the boxes and looked at them. Arwa gasped for a second and looked back “I would love to have some assistance with these.” She took a step to the side so that Linha could join her. “I do hope I am not holding you away from your tasks?”

“No, there isn’t anything much happening at the moment was just doing little piddly stuff to keep busy,” Linha replied with a smile as she walked up next to her.

Sorting some of the equipment that Arwa got out of the box “So tell me, what are your hobbies? How do you keep yourself entertained on missions such as these?” She was trying to keep the conversation going, but her schedule was not exciting for the rest of the day. 

“I mostly like to read,” Linha replied with a smile. “I know pretty boring,” she added with a chuckle. “If I am not studying I am helping out on the station,” she added with a shrug.

“Oh, what kind of books do you like?” Arwa smiled at her. “Nothing wrong with reading and enriching yourself with glorious stories and adventures of your imaginary mind,” Arwa thought for a second “I am more a fantasy girl when it comes to books”

“I like any kind of books, though I do tend to favor mysteries,” Linha replied with a smile as they continued to work through the box of stuff.

Nodding in her direction “What about Sherlock Holmes? I believe was the title, very interesting and a lot of mysteries” Arwa pointed out. “It’s about a very clever detective that searches for the killer in every murder that tries to cover their tracks.”Arway smiled at the idea “I should pick that story up again…”

“That sounds like a good book, will have to check it out myself.” She said as they had finished unpacking the crate that she had brought.

Gave off a soft smile as Arwa nodded to that. “Let’s wrap this up and explore out there or in the books.” She laughed briefly and continued their work on unpacking with Linha’s help. 

Natalie sat in her dorm room, staring at the window.  She’d returned from Starbase Bravo after having served as a member of the honor guard for Katsumi Okada on the Mackenzie.  Usually, she’d sit across from Phil Goldsmith in the café or a coffee shop, talking through the things on their hearts and minds.  But Phil had left Starfleet Academy.

Harris had decided to work through the summer on her courses to graduate sooner.  Her paper on Warp Field Dynamics was staring at her from her PADD.  She’d been pulling statistics and system schematics most of the morning while she wrote about how specific fields could interfere with warp engines.  It wasn’t that it was boring; it was that her mind still rested on the death of her friend, Katsumi.

Her roommate had left for the summer for a party-filled time on some island planet.  They hadn’t gotten off on the right foot when Natalie had moved back in, and things hadn’t improved.  With Phil, she could hang out anywhere before she slid into her bed, earplugs in place, as her roommate had a habit of listening to loud music.

Resolving to keep moving, she jumped up and left, desperate to find something to put her mind to while she wandered.

“You look like you need…something.”  The voice broke her loose from her staring contest with the wall-length windows of the cafeteria.  She looked up, frowning as the young Bajoran woman slid into the seat across from her.  She wasn’t in her cadet duty uniform, but Natalie had seen her around.  “Sophomore Cadet Lisa Munroe, Counseling branch.”  She spoke with a heavy German accent.

Natalie blinked away her surprise, “Sophomore Cadet Natalie Harris, Engineering branch.  You’re right about needing something.”  She took a long drink from her coffee, “It’s been rough…but it’s been rough for everyone.”

Munroe gripped her mug, steaming with what smelled like a heavy chai, “That is the truth.”  She looked around, “I’m here because I don’t want to go home and deal with my…family.  You?”  Harris explained her desire to graduate as early as possible.  Lisa affirmed her decision by nodding, “I’d like to get out there as fast as possible.  Lots of people need help.”

Harris asked, “Ship or station?”  The debate was talked about as the semester ended.  “I’m team ship.”

The counseling cadet shrugged, “I think both have benefits.  Ships, you see the same people all the time.  A station is so much bigger and fuller…lots more to meet and greet.”  She took a contented sip of her chai, “I’ve got plenty of time to decide.  Who knows what new ships they’ll have by the time I graduate?  I’m secretly hoping for an Odyssey class.”

Natalie mimed, gagging, “They’re the new fat ones – so big!  I’d get lost on one of those.”

Munroe rolled her eyes, but her smile was unmistakable, “I sometimes think that getting lost is the point.”

Harris regarded Lisa for a moment, “You want to grab lunch?  Unless your social calendar is full…”

A cackle, “Ma’am, I’m a counseling cadet.  I don’t have friends…I have clients.”

Natalie stood, “Well, then let’s see if we can be friends.  I’ll be grading you on your lunch choices.”

Munroe pushed her chair out, “And I’ll be asking you about your mother.”

Harris felt her smile returning, “That seems fair.  Lead the way.”

It had been a long day already and had no sign of abating. As he approached the Starbase in his shuttle, Ensign Samuels packed his things into his satchel and waited for the order to disembark. Once it came, he unbuckled his restraints and headed gleefully down into the shuttlebay.

Finally, he would be here, onboard Starbase Bravo. He’d just received his first assignment from the Academy. As a Counsellor, he was to report to Starbase Bravo for a briefing, He had no idea what his role would be going forward, but he was excited to finally put his training into practice. He’d been working hard at the academy, his grades were good, now was the time to prove it.

Heading from the shuttlebay, he walked through the swooshing doors into the main promenade of the station, looking around for signs, finally finding the turbolift to the guest quarters. He was told he’d be staying in room 3-13 for the meantime until the mission briefings. He saw it kind of like a hotel stay rather than home, so he decided not to bring much or to unpack anything. 

Once reaching his room and verifying his identity, he entered, placing his simple satchel on the chair and layign down on the small but comfortable bed, letting out a contented sigh. It was time for his journey to begin and he was looking forward to every single moment of what laid ahead. Sure, he was just a green engisn, but everyone started this way right? Who knew where he would end up…

Cam stepped into the bustling hangar bay, the metallic clangs and low hum of machinery enveloping him. Among the organized chaos, he spotted Ensign Prax engrossed in conversation with an individual wearing the unmistakable attire of an engineer. Recalling their encounter just the day before, Cam navigated through the maze of activity to join them.

As he drew closer, he observed Ensign Prax’s subtle fidgeting and the earnest gestures of the engineer. The air was charged with anticipation, and Cam couldn’t resist a mischievous smile as he chimed in, “Ensign Prax, how are those nerves treating you? The time has come to prove those confident assertions of yours.”

Old habits die hard, that’s what Cal had told himself when his habit of fidgeting with cadet pins had developed into an unconscious twisting of his sole Ensign pip when not actively doing something. A disapproving look from Petty Officer Sinclair told him he was doing it again, the older engineer having taken the freshly commissioned officer under her wing somewhat. At the arrival of Lieutenant Solari she made a casual exit stopping a few times on her way further into the hanger to inspect other small craft. Cal turned to face Cam.

”Nerves are one thing, learning to manage five lifetimes worth of habits and tics is something else entirely.“ he smiled as he spoke, directing Cam to follow him toward a smaller workspace within the expansive hanger.

”the replicator is just finishing up synthesizing the new missile pod deployment attenuators. Shouldn‘t be too long before she‘s ready for the shakedown. I forgot to ask does your fighter have a name?“

“We haven’t decided on one yet,” Cam replied to the Ensign with a smirk. “‘Thankfully’, our mileage hasn’t quite hit the mark for that just yet.”

Cal smirked back “well then, I guess you’d better start thinking. It’s bad luck to do a shakedown cruise with an unchristened craft. Especially a vessel like that” Cal gestured as he spoke, the sound of the replicator fading away as the last layer of the complex component materialized. The safety barrier having barely retracted before Cal pushed himself past it to load the twin attenuators onto an anti-grav lift.

”shall we?” He gestured further into the vast hanger bay. “17A is ours, Shenzi‘s fighter is just about ready too, set it to run a level 2 diagnostic on the power grid. last thing we need is an overload to short out everything” he mumbled as he spoke awkwardly pushing the grav lift deeper into the expansive shipyard.The Ensign’s voice buzzed with excitement, but as Cam delved into his thoughts, the chatter softened to a gentle hum. Moments later, he gracefully slipped into the cockpit of his newly assigned Apsara-class ship. The metal beneath his fingertips felt cool and reassuring. Consoles flickered to life, displaying a flurry of activity, yet Cam remained oblivious. His mind was consumed by a silent debate over the perfect name for his vessel – the earlier conversation with Ensign Prax had stirred something within him.

… So I say to you, the graduating class of Princeton, as you go boldly into the future, to take seriously the responsibility in which society has entrusted you through this great institution of learning.

T’Pree flicked the PADD off having finished, for the third and potentially fourth time, reading through Zefram Cochrane’s biography. He was an interesting human with an even more interesting and forthright expression of what it meant to be the flashpoint for a civilization on the verge of destruction; reversing it into what amounted to a stroke of good luck. The Vulcan Science Academy had touched upon first contact with Earth and it’s people all those centuries ago, attributing it to a “passing interest” that blossomed into a flourishing partnership through the efforts of a select few individuals instrumental to the creation of the now United Earth Federation.

 The Federation that, until just a couple of months ago, offered so much hope and opportunity to the peoples that flocked to it’s ideal. So much had happened during her time at the Academy. On Earth. The foundation she had hoped to become a part of had been shaken to such an extent that the Vulcan wondered if it could ever recover. Human spirit though, she had come to understand, was such that even in times of crisis would bend and crack but never break. Even in it’s darkest times. So it was that she now found herself aboard a starship headed towards where she was needed most. It was, in a sense, a way-station for where she would eventually find herself. A place for her to be educated further and learn before progressing forward. 

Starbase Bravo, Fourth Fleet. A Guardian-class space station commissioned in early 2390 to replace an aged and rugged Spacedock-class of the same name. Fourth Fleet. In all circles of her class group they had only rumors and hearsay when asked about potential postings and assignments. It was a frontier defense fleet relegated to the unimportant and uninteresting or it was a ramshackle rear-duty area where only those that didn’t meet the cut would go to let their careers quietly flounder. But T’Pree was Vulcan and Vulcans didn’t believe in rumors and hearsay. 

In truth Starfleet needed to shore up and T’Pree was just one of many hundreds of graduating Cadets that needed to go on to their next part of the journey towards one day becoming an officer onboard one of the fleet’s many ships. She joined Starfleet for a reason. In fact she downright denied more “prestigious” postings in favor of what she had hoped would be a more rugged, truthful version of the Federation that mostly went unnoticed in the grand scheme of things. The background of politics, war, and civil strife that cast a blanket over the aftermath of such easily made decisions made on behalf of the quadrants. Despite what her people claim, it was humanity that looked to the stars and pushed beyond even what her ancestors had thought they would one day become. 

Her ruminations came to an end when the shrill whistle of the ship-wide announcement sounded. 

“Cadet T’Pree, please report to Shuttle Bay 2, Cadet T’Pree – please report to Shuttle Bay 2.”

It appears her time had finally come. The possibility, adventure, all that and more promised to pave the way to something home never could. She would go where no Vulcan has ever dared gone before. Well, there was Ambassador Spock but who’s to say that one day she couldn’t become a part of that history. Nevertheless she picked up her already packed duffel bag and made her way out of the temporary quarters assigned to her and stepped into the lit corridor, ready to do what she had set out so long ago to accomplish.

To explore, engage, and advocate for the people’s of the quadrants and beyond.

It had been a long morning already by the time Samuels got to the replicator to order his first Raktajino of the day. He had been running drills all morning to get himself feeling trim and fit for his new posting. He wanted his uniform to fit perfectly when he arrived for duty.

Graduating from Starfleet Academy had been a dream of his since he was a young boy on Betazed and now it was a reality. The only step left was to get into his uniform and report in to his commanding officer.

He drank his coffee slowly, placeing the cup down as he took the towel from around his waist and tossed it to the floor, reaching down to pull up underwear and socks as he yawned. He flexed a little in the mirror to see if he could see any progress but nothing had really changed yet, so he simply got his crisp new Ensign’s uniform and put it on, ensuring to equip the shiny single gold pip and comm badge onto the vest. He looked sharp and he was excited to start work.

Working on a Starbase was different to a ship, instead of travelling to far off planets and seeing distant worlds, he would instead be looking after his crew on the base and having visitors visit THEM instead. A different life, but not a bad one. He was excited to see who he would be encountering in his new line of work as Counselor.

Once dressed, Korey headed from his guest quarters and walked down the corridor, nodding to a few crew as he went, heading for his rendezvous. He head read about Lieutenant el-Imam before arriving and was keen to meet the Deputy Director of Counselling face to face.

Nervously he waited outside her office door and announced his arrival through the comms system. Now, he waited…

“Come in” A voice stated the welcoming of the Ensign.

Korey entered as he was asked, looking around the modern yet comfortable office and to his superior officer, to whom he smiled. “Greetings Lieutenant, I am Ensign Samuels, your new Counsellor. I was informed I should report here for my orientation and first day. I do hope I am on time” he said nervously.

He took a seat as instructed and looked up to el-Imam. He knew from his research that she had done a lot of work on EOS station as well as on the Kennedy. She had the resume he could only dream of having one day. But today was the start of that journey. His first day as a graduate and his first shift onboard Starbase Bravo.

Looking up from her paperwork, a soft smile appeared on her face while looking at Korey. “Welcome, Ensign, welcome to the counselor team on this wonderful station.” Arwa placed the PADD down and looked at him. “So, first things first, how are you? Settling in on Starbase Bravo is your first day, but getting your roots in the ground is also very important. 

“Well, it’s certainly something! I arrived on base last night, so spent a night in guest quarters. I didn’t want to risk being late.” he admitted sheepishly. “I have only seen a small amount of the base so far, I went for a job around the promenade and that’s about it. I look forward to seeing more of it in the coming days and getting started with my duties.” 

He fidgeted a little in his seat. His empathic abilities showed that the Lieutenant was very calm, almost serene, which put him swiftly at ease.

Nodding to that, “Well, I am not, as they would say, a hard ass when it comes to first days,” Arwa pointed out and leaned in her chair. “I think you can use the orientation day or two. It gets you familiar with the base and their daily operation. You will find out quickly enough where counseling is mostly busy with” She thought about the amount of security officers that booked a counselor after incidents at the promenade. 

Hearing that was indeed a relief, as he knew he needed to really scope the place out to get his bearings. For a boss, it seemed that she was pretty relaxed. Didn’t mean he’d slack off of course, but nice to know his wellbeing was being thought of.

“Does the Starbase have a large crew? How many are stationed here permanently?” he asked, considering what his workload was going to be like. “I do like to get to know people fast”

“Is it big?” Arwa thinks for a second, “I think about 60.000 people serve on this base…is that enough?” Arwa teased him a bit and gave him an eye wink. “It will take some time to get to know everyone, but every day will not be the same. That is for certain”

He blinked. 60,000 people?

“Wow…no wonder you needed more counsellors…Do I get my own office to see patients?” he asked, not sure how it worked aboard a starbase. “I’d like to start reviewing duty rosters and such as soon as I can. I’d like to get stuck in.” he said eagerly.

Shaking her head, “We are hooked up with the personnel department that arranges your duty roster. It should already be linked to your profile.” Thinking for a moment, Arwa looked back at him. “We don’t really work with personnel offices; well, some do in upper levels. But most counselors work on flex spots, just take an empty office and claim it for the day for yourself”

“I understand” he said politely. “So just use an office for appointments and just enjoy the space offered, right?” he said with a smile. He was clearly a little overwhelmed but trying to keep up appearances.

“Well I guess then I should go explore and orient myself with this place…any recommendations before I go?” he asked.

Seeing the uncomfortable posture and a bit troubled facial expression, Arwa took a deep breath. “Take it all in, Ensign, take your time. Start with Promenade and work your way around. I would say try Gate Inn or Brew to take in the vibe of the station, they serve some good drinks there” Arwa smiled at him. “You will do just fine”

He nodded politely and got to his feet. “Then I shall do so, the station is large and I am keen to see it’s wonders. Thankyou so much for your time today, Lieutenant. I will do my best to make you proud.” he said, as he got to his feet and headed to the door. The whole world was his oyster now and he was about to embark on the adventure of a lifetime….

The crew is settled in for their mission to the Paulson Nebula, a lot of cadets are getting some field experience. But not everyone was out of the woods yet, seeing that the Frontier Day was still fresh in their minds. Starfleet dictates that counseling sessions must be followed, and thus, the next customer was ready to get into the office. Arwa looked outside the office. “Lieutenant Thompson?”

Sonja had not expected the summons to the counselor, but given the events that had happened she knew it was coming, though for the most part it seems like another day to her. She did her duty as she always has, but she complied with orders. She stood up after hearing her name and made her way to the doorway smiling at the counselor. 

Giving a nod to the Lieutenant as she passed her by, Arwa followed and walked to the replicator. “Can I get you something to drink? It is a good start when you have something to drink,” Arwa ordered a black coffee as it replicated in front of her. 

Sonja nodded “English breakfast tea please.” She said as she sat down trying to settle in. Anytime she came to see the counselor she felt uneasy and she never knew why. She couldn’t recall anything from her past that would make these feelings occur, but nonetheless she was trying to act like it was not bothering her.

Gave away a soft smile and nodded, “One English breakfast tea.” The replicator made the request as the cup appeared. Arwa returned to her desk and placed the steaming hot tea before Sonja. “So, how are you doing? A lot has happened recently, so it’s more than a regular counseling session. The Frontier Day had some severe after effects.” 

Sonja thought carefully for a moment, as she wasn’t sure how she wanted to proceed with the questioning. The events that occurred were rough, but they never really affected her like others in her office. She was not someone who had learned the need for thick skin because she had always had it due to her fathers lessons when she was younger. She took a sip of the tea before speaking. “Truthfully, I am doing ok the main stress has been trying to help members on my team to cope with the events of Frontier Day. Some of them really had some bad events occur and trying to help them has been challenging. A few of them could not perform their duties, so I had to let them go on medical leave per doctors. It has made my area double the work, but with less workers. That’s the hardest part for me.”

A hum came from Arwa leaning back in her chair. “So the events of fighting against your own, your colleagues, friends, or maybe loved ones didn’t affect you? But you are saying that dealing with people around you who have been affected by the event was a stress point for you to process it?” Arwa let a silent feel for a moment and smiled eventually. “I am not saying that you are emotionless or something close to that; I am merely pointing out the fact that you were influenced by it, be it light or heavy. Seeing you do not realize it….are you working more hours these days?”

“It’s not that I wasn’t affected per se, but I have been taught to just move on from traumatic events and not allow them to affect me. It’s not a hard thing to do for me. Yes, it was not a situation I want to replay, but I am not heartless it’s just the way my father raised me.” She said trying to explain why she had said it the way she did.

Nodding to that explanation, “Everyone copes with traumatic experience differently, which is understandable. Let me be clear I am not stating you are heartless, I am stating that it does impact you, and you confirmed that. Your father has taught you well,” Arwa complimented her. “So tell me, how do you show empathy to those who have more difficulty moving on in comparison to you?”

Sonja looked at Arwa with a slight look of contemplation “The biggest thing I do is try to listen when people need it. I have always been told I am a good listener. It’s one thing I don’t usually mind doing, but I also try to clear people time if they need it off for any reason.” Sonja took another sip of the tea before continuing “My position requires me to compartmentalize and from that has also came an increase in what my father taught me. I try not to take work with me when I am not on shift.”

“What do you do when you get in your private time to …settle the dust after such a heavily loaded emotional day?” Arwa asked curious while taking some notes. 

Sonja shrugged “I go find friends to spend time with, do holodeck adventures, or just unwind without thinking of work.”

Nodding to that “Sounds like a good start, ever did meditation, watch a movie? Hang out at the bar, Starbase Bravo has quite some offers?” Arwa smiled at her “It is good to unwind, just keep that mind?”

Sonja nodded “I will keep that in mind! It’s been a long time since I watched a movie, maybe I need to start watching them again. Truthfully I am looking for a companion. I have felt lonely at times…if you want the truth.”

Thinking for a moment, Arwa leans forward “What about this, seeing socializing is a challenge for you, which is totally okay. I am willing to help you out on this. There is a cute bar that I want to visit since I arrived here….Red….no ” Arwa looks confused for a second “Oh its the Golden Apple. Want to meet up when our schedule gets open?”

“Sure we can do that.” she stated seemingly finishing the conversation 

Smiling at that response “Lovely, I look forward to it” Arwa nodded to her as Sonja gets ready to leave “I will see you soon, I hope” With that Sonja left the office. 

It has been to long of a time, the appearance of the Borg has delayed so many beautiful ideas and plans that Arwa had on her schedule. The trip on the Exeter was brief, interesting, but brief. Now she had entered the classic warm vibe of the Golden Apple. Taking a deep breath she could smell the leather and smiled at all the interactions.

Her searching came to an halt as she saw Sonja sitting at a table. Walking to the table she took a seat “Good day Miss Thompson, I hope you are doing well”Life had been busy, in fact busier than Sonja had figured it would be. She had worked more hours than she could count after the Borg appearance. She had finally had a chance to unwind and decided to try our the Golden Apple, which she had heard nothing but good things about.

She was surprised to hear a voice behind her. She turned and smiled “Hello Arwa, I am trying that’s why I am here” she chuckled.Finally sitting comfortably, Arwa nodded to Sonja. “Well, I am glad you are trying to leave your comfort zone. It is not an easy thing to do, so it is quite a milestone already by doing it” Arwa raised her hand for the waiter “But I do have to apologize, I had this planned way before the actual Borg issue appeared.”

The waiter approached as Arwa lowered her hand. “Could I get a Coffee Latte?” The waiter nodded and looked at Sonja.Sonja thought for a moment “Can I get an Earl Grey Tea?” the solitary nod was all she needed.

She turned her attention back to Arwa and shook her head “Don’t worry about that we all have been incredibly busy after the Borg incident. At least we finally did it.” She smirked momentarily.Leaning a bit back in her chair “Well that kinda is the question, did we really do it? Now I try not not to approach this to much on psychology. But all we know is that the Borg retreated to their space,” Arwa pointed out. “But between daily working overtime and the Exeter mission, some relaxing does help.” She sighed.

The waiter came back with their drinks as Arwa gave a nod “Thank you”Sonja shook her head “I meant at least we are finally meeting as we had planned, but that is a fair point as well. The Borg will never fully be gone, but we know for now they have retreated. Why no one knows, but I can say I believe they will return.”

She grabbed her drink and took a ship letting the warm liquid run down her throat allowing for a moment of soothing.Nodding to her statement as Arwa took a sip of her drink “It sounds like a cycle that got its setting messed up and stands on repeat forever” Arwa smiled for a second on that “Did you make new friends while being off duty?” It was something of their last conversation.Sonja shook her head “I did not, but then again I was way too busy to do anything outside of work.” She wasn’t lying the amount of time she had to herself since the events of the Borg were zero. With the given situation, she had to admit that even Arwa had no time to sociallize with other people. Taking another sip of her drink listening to the calming background sound “Alright, what is your take on the whole Borg ordeal? What do you think their angle was to appear and without reason disappear again?”Sonja looked at him blankly “No one knows the Borg angle and let’s be honest hearing that same phrase every time ‘Prepare to be assimilated’ tells me that they don’t plan to stay away forever. They always have a reason for what they do. Possibly we weakened them and they need to regroup. I can’t say for sure, but I have no doubt we will see them again.”She raised a finger “I look this from a standpoint of the mind. What if the defeat of the Queen that former Admiral Picard did do, messed them up? You know shook their connection a bit and they are chaotic for a brief moment only to recollect themselves and go back to normal operations as” Arwa lowers her finger and picks up her cup and takes a another sip.Sonja nodded “I guess that’s another perspective, but I don’t look at things that way of course it might be because I am more security minded.”She leans forward “Security minded, do explain….I am curious on hearing all kind of perspectives” Arwa winks at her “Maybe I could make a paper on it. Behavior of the Borg and the thinking 101” She laughed at her own idea.Sonja chuckled at the remark “I look at things in the perspective of security. I look at the protection of a facility or ship. When I think of the Borg I always think they will be back. So I am always thinking how can we improve security and our protection protocols against the Borg.””Systematic thinking, interesting” Arwa takes a sip of the coffee, and you can see that she is visibly enjoying her time at the Golden Apple with the music, the people around, and the interaction. It is her place to be “So what about the people in security, on the base…what does your security mind say then?”Sonja looked “The team did the best they could given the circumstance’s. My shift did the best they could and I have nothing but good things to say about the work they did. None of us were ready for this and we should have been.””Not quite what I was looking for” Arwa spoke but nodded afterwards “But I am turning this into a counsel session. So my apologies, what do you think of the place so far?” She looked around seeing all the people “Such a wonderful gem among the decks”Sonja looked around and smiled “It does seem like quite a peaceful place. I think it is just what most of us need, especially after a long day of work or a long week of shifts.”

Sonja paused “I don’t mind answering questions but I did feel like I was in the chair again.”Sighing at that last comment “I have a knack of doing that sometimes” Arwa took another sip “The days are getting calmer now that the Borg is out fo the picture, the trauma session of Lost Fleet is almost over. I wonder what will be next on our path” Arwa legit didn’t know what else Starbase Bravo was going to offer seeing it already offered all sorts of madness.Sonja looked at Arwa “Don’t beat yourself up I think it comes with the territory of the job. Starbase Bravo has been crazy since the moment I started here. I never know from one day to another what I might encounter. The term ‘easy day’ is never something I see here.”

She shrugged “Truthfully this is the first assignment I ever had and I was thrown into the deep end.”Drinking the last of her cup of coffee latte “Ahh…yes every station has its own charm. Eos was a total chaotic dump and that is me being nice is summing up that place” Arwa placed the cup down. “So yea, Bravo might give away its own charm of messed up problems and I am here to do my part in fixing it”

Arwa blinked a bit “Well I try”Sonja decided to reassure “You do your job just as you should and your great at it Arwa. I know you get a bad rap, but you got this!”Fiddling with her fingers a bit as she smiled at that comment “Now who is counseling who?” Arwa winks at Sonja “But thank you I appreciate the gesture”Sonja shrugged “I am just a rookie at this, but I know when someone needs something.””But you are making progress in socializing with people” Smiling at her “Which is a good thing, glad to consider you as a friend, always open to having more friends in a big place like this.” Arwa took a deep breath relaxing a bit at the music. “We should do this more often”Sonja smiled “I am never adverse to having more friends, especially people that seem actually to care about me as a person. I do agree we should do this more often. It is nice to unwind.””Well, we have more opportunities to get to know each other. Be it here, or somewhere else on the station. But I think I will hit the sack as the lower deckers would say to me” Arwa smiled as she gets up from her table “Lets meet up again soon”Sonja smiled. “We can do that! Get some rest it’s deserved and it looks like you need it.” Arwa seemed like a nice person and Sonja could tell it was genuine.

“I will see you soon Arwa!”

The USS Ophiuchus traveled outward, out of the docking bay, and out of the orbit of Mellstoxx III. Once they’d cleared the star system, Dawa swiveled to face her passengers. “I’m about to go to warp. You might want to lean back for this one!”

She set the example by settling as far back into her seat as she could until she felt practically enveloped in it, then extended her arm. “Here we go!”

The stars resolved into streaks all around them as their warp factor slowly increased, but no matter how gradually Dawa accelerated, it was still noticeable as they passed warp five. An inertial dampener small enough for the runabout just couldn’t quite match the power of a full-sized starship.

Once they’d reached cruising speed at warp eight, Dawa finally relaxed and leaned forward to glance at her passengers. “So, what’s the verdict? Intolerable or exhilarating?”

As he recovered from the jump, Irric’s stoic facade cracked ever so slightly as a mischievous glint danced in his eyes. 

“You know,” he said with a hint of amusement, drawing out the words in a brief pause. The hum of the Orion class’s engines hung in the air, building anticipation before he spilled the punchline, “It kind of reminds me of a Cardassian prisoner transport.”

Arwa’s eyebrow went up hearing that reference to a prisoner ship and it made her look at  Irric “Do elaborate on how this reminds you of something so specific?” Arwa sits back in her chair, armed with her PADD and sharp focus.

“You know how the Cardassians operate,” Irric began, his voice carrying a quiet intensity. His gaze lowered, tracing the lines on the tabletop, and then he continued, “It’s not exactly a secret that they couldn’t care less about their prisoners’ well-being.”

A pause lingered, during which the atmosphere seemed to tighten. His ‘joke,’ once lighthearted, now cast a shadow over the conversation. The subtle crease in his brow conveyed the realization of a darker reality—one he had experienced in the recklessness of youth and now sought to distance himself from.

“Picture this,” he added, a somber tone threading through his words. “If a couple of dampeners happen to go haywire, they won’t lift a finger to fix them unless it directly impacts one of their precious officers. It’s the kind of negligence that becomes a chilling norm in their oppressive system.”

“Hmm,” Arwa replied to the story and wrote some text on her PADD. “So, Commander.” She turns her attention to the pilot of the craft. “How is your experience thus far flying, any difference?”

Dawa reeled a bit from the sudden shift in conversational tone. She had to shake the urge to lighten the mood long enough to give the counselor’s question some proper thought, and she struggled not to overanalyse the question. “Nope, feels all the same from my seat! Guess that means the Borg bits haven’t escaped and crawled into one of the panels yet!” she answered, inwardly cringing at her own joke.

Giving away a smile in Dawa’s direction, “Good, let’s have a comfortable flight.” Arwa noted something on her PADD and looked in the direction of Nuni “You okay?” 

“Lieutenant,” Irric’s exhale carried an audible undercurrent of frustration, “I was under the impression that you were here to observe Commander Vlček, not me.” Immediate regret swept over him like a sudden gust of wind. His eyes, refusing any direct connection, sought refuge in the cosmic tapestry beyond the viewport. 

Giving a soft smile in his direction, “Well it is called socializing Lieutenant. I am indeed here to observe the performance of the Commander, but it is no crime to talk with your fellow shipmates” Arwa looked back at the front seeing the flight going as planned. “It seems everything is going as scheduled. This flight is going quite smooth, my compliments.”

Twelve hours later and Dawa was certain she hadn’t given Arwa any reason to take back those compliments. It had been an uneventful fight full of small talk, paperwork, two shared meals, and general puttering around.

Arwa and Irric were quietly occupied when Dawa swiveled to face them, breaking the silent spell that had fallen over the cockpit. “Well, it’s time for me to get some shut-eye. My bed is right here on the flight deck, so I’m gonna shoo you both back to the rear cabin and let you decide if you want to sleep or not.”

She didn’t wait for them to leave before she dimmed the lights and stood up. With the push of a button, her bed slid down from the wall on the left side of the cockpit and she immediately hopped on, sighing as she laid back with her hands behind her head.

Standing up while reading her PADD as Arwa walked to the rear cabin. “Gonna finish reading this, then close my eyes also” Arwa didn’t pay attention to Irric as she was already occupied. Entering the cabin she lays down on the available bed still reading. 

Irric found himself drawn into the vast canvas beyond the viewport, his eyes tracing the intricate patterns of stars, each one a silent witness to the unfolding of recent events. The ambient glow of their celestial dance gradually waned, leaving behind an inky backdrop that swallowed the brilliance of the final frontier.

As weariness settled in, Irric’s eyelids became reluctant gatekeepers, struggling to hold back the encroaching darkness. The stars, once vivid storytellers in the cosmic expanse, faded away one by one. With a sigh, Irric succumbed to the weight of his thoughts, and the universe he had been contemplating slipped away, lost to the oblivion of his heavy-lidded gaze.

“You know how to avoid meetings, Deputy Director.”  The face and voice of Ensign Geraldine Parker was on the screen in sickbay, amused at her commanding officer’s unique solution to the problem of meetings.  

Cassidy Montgomery feigned shock, “Ensign Parker…what an accusation.”  The assistant rolled her eyes with a sly smile.  Their relationship had improved over the last few weeks. “They’ll still be able to reach me out here for the mandatory meetings, but I have a host of cadets to train now, so…”

Parker groaned, “I will regret agreeing to this, won’t I?”

Cass chuckled, “You’ll manage, just like everyone else will.  If all hell breaks loose, call.”  A nod from her assistant and the channel closed.  She turned her attention to sickbay and felt notes of nostalgia returning.  In her abbreviated two-year academy program, she had worked aboard the Exeter as a cadet.  It still felt the same and almost smelled the same.  Now, she was a command-level officer sitting in the chief medical officer’s office.

The door opened as Arwa, wearing her officer teal uniform, looked around and saw a familiar face. “Director Montgomery, what a pleasant surprise to meet you on board the USS Exeter.” Arwa approaches them and gave a nod “I was asked to be the ship’s counselor during its journey to Paulson.” 

Montgomery smiled as the woman entered, “I saw your name on the list and figured a reunion of sorts was in order.”  She gestured to the replicator, “I’m dosing myself with coffee for the moment.  I’m sure whatever we find out there will require something stronger…although I’m always hopeful for a simple cruise.”

“Where is the fun in that?” She smiled back at her as Arwa walked to the replicator. “Coffee strong…” She waited to replicate it. “So what does an esteemed doctor like yourself do on a simple routine mission like this?” 

Montgomery chuckled, “It’s been a bit since I’ve gotten to anything resembling routine.”  She thought back to her other positions and her cadet days.  “We’ve both manifested whatever is going to happen out here with our talk about simple and routine.”  Sipping at her coffee, she reflected, “I ended up on Bravo partially because I was tired of flying through space on ship to ship without a real place to call home…and look at me now!”

“A change of wind is never bad” Arwa pointed out, taking a sip of her coffee “I have seen ships, an outpost on the frontier, and Starbase Bravo, only to find me back to get a snatch of space adventure on this old beast” She winks at her direction “So what do we actually know, about the mission?”

Cass slid over a PADD, “It’s a curious one, for sure.”  They spent the remainder of their time examining the briefing.