Fleetswept - (Collection of Short Stories)

[LobsterEater]

Was sat eating and this popped up on a playlist again.

It hadn't taken him long to find a comfortable spot. He stood at one of the external mesh bars, just outside of Quarks on the promenade. He hadn't intended to spend much time aboard the station, with his ship on alert and the October providing plenty of the services found on DS9, there was little need. But not being able to sleep was a bit of a common occurrence for him at this point, and he'd heard the recipe for his favourite style of pink fluffy beverage wasn't terrible here.

It was quiet, considering, even though it was the early hours. A number of ships recently departed on patrol as reports of Hur'q came in. As he stared into Quarks from the outside, there was just a small group sat near the lifeless dabo table. No one working the bar, and the small group engaged in what seemed a joyful - but rather private - couple of drinks between friends. Two Ferengi's sat opposite each other while a Bajoran and Klingon placed a few small gold strips onto their table.

He was used to cramped stations. His time aboard K-7 somehow wasn't enough to shake off his preference for the static posting, but DS9 certainly wasn't his home by any means. The station seemed fairly new to him still, he'd only ever been aboard a few times. In fact, the last time he was aboard it was during fleet movements with the 38th again - and the time before that was during a conference with Task Force Argo and the 26th Fleet. That was a while ago now, Coby tallied five marks up in his head for the number years that was. He'd met Sedai for the first time that day, though he'd just been slapped by a Gorn causing trouble for his bonding-exercise group.

As Coby was about to push himself away, his chest fluttered. His eyes crept around the promenade, moving upwards towards the upper ring - then as he watched the void through the window and the ships glowing nearby... he felt almost a presence. The sound of laughter, children playing. Someone being shouted at - yet it wasn't aggressive shouting, as his eyes passed the now empty security office. A feeling of friendship, solidarity, filled him the longer his gaze wondered the surprisingly life-less corridors of the dim station. It was a warm feeling. Eventually he looked back into Quarks, and the feeling faded quickly. The Captain couldn't help but smile to himself, for some reason, before a nasally call came from ahead.

"OI! YOU! ... Either bring over your latinum or BUZZ OFF."

It was the voice of one of the Ferengi, the furthest away who was now standing. His hand continued to beckon Coby over towards one of the easily movable chairs, before retaking his seat. The other three offered a waiting smile towards Coby before returning their focus to the cards infront of them on the table. Coby lingered for a moment, pursed his lips and stepped into Quarks, heading for the table.

[LobsterEater]

"... those are where the maglocks grappled us. Tried to tear straight through the hull lad, but she's got stronger skin than they guessed. The collision damage to the left of that is from the initial impact against the ships secondary hull." The USS October's Captain of Engineering stood firmly against the bulkhead of the shuttle, his finger waggling pointedly at the PADD screen in his other hand. The younger Lieutenant stared at the screen, nodding along. "The damage to the driver coil cowling came when the vessels point-defense system kicked off. Never seen anything like it, the array must've been practically touching our hull. Fired a single beam before it must've overloaded, the plating didn't stand a chance."

The engineering Lieutenant, recent come-aboard from K-7, furrowed his brow as he moved to take the PADD from the Andorian chief. "That's a lot of damage." pausing, "Mostly just superficial though, aside from the impulse engine damage?"

"Aye, I suppose for the most part, though the rammed spot took out three lounges as well as several habitation suites. We've... already patched a lot of it up." chief th'Allegro replied.

"Casualties?" questioned the younger engineering officer, his voice expressionless as he continued to inspect the visual display.

"Small number, aye." th'Allegro started, but his voice grew graver as his eyes pierced towards the Lieutenant now holding his PADD, "... the habitation suites weren't occupied for the most part. But there were some, we didn't have time to sound an evacuation alarm."

The Lieutenant flicked at the PADD, the screen fizzling into a stream of numbers "Hmm. And the escape pods?"

"Commander Saer's idea, they were jettisoned straight into the maglocks. Severed the main arm from her, gave us our window."

The Lieutenant didn't seem overly impressed, "You'll have to wait for replacements, Captain."

th'Allegro nodded, "Didn't expect anything less, we're not looking to syphon anything further than your system space Lieutenant. Captain Morton was pretty adamant about that, even if you could spare anything. We're mostly just working to repair the hull - the loss of space aboard isn't so much a concern as long as we can cover the breaches securely. Anything more is a luxury that can wait. Thankfully the impulse coils weren't too badly affected, they're just off line while we take a detailed analysis."

The engineer nodded, "Certainly handy you've a pretty hefty compliment of work-bees. I served on the Enterprise last year, we only had about half - and that was even during the refit."

"Captain zh'Aeregon... saw to that, she asked to borrow some during 'Octobers own refit, before she transferred to her station assignment she accidentally forget to give them back. Doubt Sol misses them too much."

"Well, un-like his predecessor make sure Captain Morton knows to keep his hands out of our worker bee cookie jar." exclaimed the Lieutenant, but he'd not quite finished as th'Allegro opened his mouth to reply "- and speaking of, sir. Commander Wildman has asked me to pass this on as I was coming aboard. She'd like your Captain to stay out of her ops, apparently he has a bad habit of loitering on the command deck." he pauses for another moment, "I... think she was joking, but. I'm yet to gauge her properly. Still getting used to the position so. Not taking any chances."

The October's Captain of Engineering eye'd the Lieutenant, then simply nodded "Well, considered it passed on safely, if it makes you rest at ease with your CO."

He replied with a forced smile, inclining his head. "If that's all, sir." and was already making his way out of the docked-shuttle's airlock back into the open confines of Deep Space K-7.

The Andorian returned a gaze towards his PADD, or rather, lack there of. His eyes darted up towards the airlock but the K-7 engineer had already moved completely out of sight. th'Allegro sighed, turning now towards the shuttle cockpit, staring out of the viewscreen towards the Odyssey class vessel in the distance. After a long period of watching the floating whale, he bobbed his head to himself and felt a sense of calm rush through his body. "th'Allegro to Captain Morton."

There was a quiet pause.

"Morton here, how're we looking Thy's. This isn't one of those times where I'm gonna' cry, is it? It's been nice enough evening as is. Even had hot chocolate."

The Andorian rolled his eyes to no one, "Well sir, if by one of those times you mean we're not looking amazingly peachy as you'd say, then yes. But! Before you start the water show sir, I'm on top of things. Won't be long till we're ready to get back into the open waters, though I could really use a hand if you have a day or two free. Besides, I know how you don't exactly love being back at K-7."

"No rush, Thys."

---

[LobsterEater]

"I wouldn't say so sir, no, but fashion isn't really my expertise..."

Lieutenant Commander Presland was the USS October's chief tactical officer. He was a man of patience, spoke with an incredibly delicate voice and loved nothing more than spending time with his family. Rather recently his family of four, his husband and two daughters, had appeared to have adopted his commanding officer. He'd been aboard ship for coming up on a year though through his calm, approachable nature had made quick friends of most of the senior officers aboard ship. He had little aspiration past his current post and he'd remained a tactical officer through most of his career; he was incredibly content following orders rather than giving them. He lived happily, and since accepting his assignment aboard the 'October he'd grown quite accustom to the way things worked aboard ship.

"... though, just to ask, do you intend to have the bulbs... flashing..." The Lieutenant Commander waggled a finger towards his CO, "... like that the whole time?"

Coby frowned, "What, is that too much? I just... well, don't want to come across boring."

Presland was an expert by now at hiding his true expression behind a soft smile, in this instance he struggled to withhold a snorted laugh. "You think wearing that is a statement against being boring, sir? I don't know them, but... I'm sure there's... other ways of combating that rather than sticking on a jumper with bulbs. They won't think any less of you, if it's as you say!"

"It's this or small talk." the Captain replied, quickly.

"What's wrong with small talk? Most conversations I've had aboard this ship start there, sir." Presland tilted his head, "Infact that's how I met my husband, you know. Withered him down daily, carefully executed a calculated question each day."

"That's a bit different, Henry-" Coby stopped, turning a glance towards his ready-rooms window, the reflection just subtle enough that he could still get a clear view of the brightly coloured bulbs reflecting back at him. "- since being back I've probably already annoyed practically everyone I've spoken to. It's strange, half the people I speak to are moving on, keeping spirits up... then those I actually care about, I try to mirror the others and just make things worse."

The tactical officers face softens a brief moment, "Well. Could be worse-r," he starts, "I don't even leave the ship. I'm sure half of those people aboard the station would hate seeing my cheery face."

"Doubtful, you could pacify a Jem'Hadar battlefleet by just reciting your personal serial number with that voice."

Presland let a careful chuckle exhale, but before he could retort the door to the Captain's ready room chimed softly.

Coby blinked, "Shit." checking his chronometer, eyes going wide. "Aaaarh~ I completely forgot. Kain Brighton wanted to see me."

The tactical officer raised his brow and then made his movements to stand out of the corner couch. "I'm sure Daniel would love you to come around for dinner again, some time soon." Presland smiled warmly at Coby, inclining his head as he made for the door. "Hope I was of some help, anyway, Captain." As he stepped up to them, the ready room doors split apart and slid open with a gentle swish. His eyes went straight downwards, the nearly thigh-high human child peered up at him with piercing green eyes. "Mister Brighton... aren't you meant to be sleeping?" he joked, softly.

The little human scowled, missing any humour "Mummy said as long as I finished my exam before tea and had my nap I could stay up just this once, Loo-Loo-Latan... Mister Pres-land."

Henry smiled gently and dipped his head as he yielded, "Well understood sir. Carry on." and gave Coby a quick single handed wave once he was behind the child.

Coby, not exactly childminder of the year, became a little uneasy. He'd always had a distaste to the idea of "Captain Morton" day when the Betazoid once reminded him of the idea on DS13, sadly it had transitioned and was quickly set up by the October's Ferengi chief counselor. The Captain had always believed there was some malicious intent there, coincidentally after she was told she would be required to bunk with the ships CMO for a period. So children weren't his strong point at the moment.

"Why are you flashing?" pondered the little human.

Coby's hand slowly rose, silently tapping at a specific spot on his chest and suddenly there was a lot less brightly coloured flashing lights within the ready room. "Sorry." he apologised, "... is that better?"

"Uuuummmm, mummy always says bright lights give her a head ache. They make me hurt too." the little one said, but quickly continued with a confidence that took Coby off guard. "But its okay, you're only a Cap-tin. I was waiting ages to see you, why did you take soooooo~ long~?"

Coby knelt down onto a knee, wincing slightly through a smile "Yes, I'm sorry Kain... I've been super-duperly busy- you... you remember the big crash we had, a few weeks ago?"

The little human nodded a couple of heavy nods. They were large nods, clearly wanting to make sure the adult Captain understood he knew about the big crash.

"... well, you see, with that comes a lot of booooring~ stuff. A lot of..." as Coby's mind works on a substitution, the child does it for him.

"Lots of tests?"

Coby tightened his lips, glancing to the side as he bobbed his head. "Yeah... actually, there's a lot of tests I needed to do- well, still need to do. Lots of boring writing."

"I can help you with that, I'm really good at finishing tests quickly."

The Captain laughed, "I'll remember that. Now, what was it I could do for you Kain? Your mother said you fell out with one of your friends?"

Kain was quick to shake his little head, "No, I didn't fall out with her! I swear! I just... wanted to play with her, it's been ages- 'cos- 'cos we've been busy and away! I really miss her. She's my best friend. She's not replied to my messages though. I don't know why."

Coby mocked a faint frown, "Oh, well... maybe she's busy? There's a lot going on... - uh, but, What's stopping you from seeing her?"

"She's not with us, I just said, silly! So can you take me to see her? Mummy says we can't but that's why I came to you! You're the boss. You can tell her to say yes! She doesn't tell me why."

The October's Captain fought back another laugh, shaking his head gently. "I... well. I am the boss, I suppose... but ... your mother is, too. I wouldn't want to be in trouble, she'd shout at me too I have no doubt." Coby paused, tilting his head around towards his viewport and eyeing the floating hulk of K-7. "Where's your friend, then? I... I suppose if it's just our little... secret, I'll take you to see her maybe. Where is she?"

Kain beamed a massive smile, leaping to hug the rather scared Captain as he was nearly chocked. "She's back at the other place!" he said, cheerfully.

The Captain arched a brow, a slightly quizzical smirk on his face "The other place? Where do you mean, here?" pointing out the window.

"No! Nononono, the other other place. The bigger one! Deep Space 13!"

---

[LobsterEater]

USS OCTOBER // SHIPWIDE wrote:

Attention all hands, this is the Captain.

USS OCTOBER // SHIPWIDE wrote:

As I usually start these things, I just wanted to say… For those of you that celebrate the season, Merry Christmas, Happy Holidays and good tidings to you during this season of celebration and reflection as we near the end of yet another cycle. I know I’m a little late this year, I found myself a little swamped yesterday but made sure to clear a spot just for this today. Now, just before I drone on- some quick house keeping; my office, or rather uh… temporary office, will be in Odyssey Lounge for today and tomorrow, one of the booths when I’m not offering my help behind the bar serving. Don’t get used to it, just a one off to lighten the burden today. So if there’s any of you who want to drop in, please do.

Secondly, as usual, on the 31st, there will be a five minute grace period – barring any active emergencies or alerts. You know the drill, take some time to look back on this year. Regardless of all, please do your best to look forward, for me, and ring in the new year with the closest person to you.

With that out of the way, we can start our little look back together. I won't keep you all long, just have a short one this time. We started off the year away from our home. With repairs finishing up we were allowed to spread our wings once more – the Gamma quadrant was new to a lot of us. Our independence was difficult to adjust to, the October throughout her entire career so far has never truly been apart from our family. Thanks to what seemed like endless conflict we’ve never felt so far away, but I think that was good for us. We grew together as our own family, as we always have, but there was something special... something more, this time.

This ship, to me, is a constant sense of peace, though recently... nostalgia. The majority of this crew have been with the 38th Fleet since the ship was first transferred to the small Task Force. We've all had rotations, leave, reassignment... yet a lot of us seem to find our way back. A home away from the home that's also away from home. Yet saying that, we also have a lot of new faces circulating the halls. Which for those of you that applies to, I hope you're all settling in. The earlier months of this year were a turbulent patch of change, but I hope you're now feeling as much a part of the October's family as everyone.

Throughout the next part of the year we saw yet another conflict, the Hur'q. Our stay at Deep Space Nine brought about a smaller transfer window, and we said goodbye to three senior staff members aboard ship, but again as I always re-state, we welcomed plenty more back aboard. During the conflict we took park in three battles, the ship took a rough pounding and there were a number of casualties, thankfully none proved fatal. The Battle of Betazed saw our ship and our comrades pushed to the test as we fought what many were assuming to be an upwards battle, but instead proved our metal as you came out distinguished. Something I hope you all know I bestow upon each and everyone of you daily.

The latter few months have been beyond measure, we were away from our closest of friends in an hour that they needed us the most. I know a number of you feel... strongly, about the decision not to immediately recall to the fleet, but I heard and felt you, believe me. A number of you served aboard Deep Space Thirteen, either under Commodore R'zo-vek, myself, Admiral Perim, the late Captain Freeman or a friend of the October's, Captain Thiessen. Our station is not lost, our fleet still standing as a bulwark of Starfleet, and most dominantly a beacon of all the Federation can be. We look back over these past few months with sorrow as we mourn, but not with regret. Not with anger, hatred or resentment. We are far better than that.

I am genuinely so proud to call myself your commanding officer, and to Captain this ship - your home - is a privilege from the heart. I know I refer to the ship, and the station, as your home often. But to me, I'm home wherever I find myself with the lot of you. My crew. I've always felt that, and those of you that know me well enough... know I'm not the best at speaking openly, but I hope I tend to convey that atleast just a little bit.

I'll stop hogging your ears, I just wanted to make sure you all know you have my utmost gratitude.

Morton, out.

---

((Merry Christmas, happy holidays and the like, everyone!))

[LobsterEater]

Considering the busy traffic outside, the interior of Starfleet Medical seemed fairly quiet considering. It wasn't an area Coby had visited often, let alone while off-duty. His most recent visit was several years ago, in tow of a half-Andorian physician who'd asked her CO to accompany her during a short teaching sabbatical. His brown jacket hugged his figure a little more tightly than his usual duty tunic, perhaps a side-effect to taking up his old PT regime, and his red tie accompanied the neat collar of his undershirt. With a PADD, and a steaming mug, he'd been sat comfortably in the central plaza of Starfleet Medical for a couple of hours.

The PADD wobbled somewhat as he carefully, or more accurately precariously, balanced it on his crossed-over knee as he reached down to pick up his travel mug. His attention held to its screen without fault as he successfully pulled up the beverage to his lips. With an impromptu arrival in Sol granted by an emergency transport request, he'd been given the chance to hopefully offer some support to the 38th Fleet's Vice Admiral, however Earth's opportunities would also offer something else while he was on the surface. Just shy of taking a sip he winced, hissing out a breath as the mug was lowered back into his lap without a sip. The screen flickered to darkness before quickly changing to a screensaver, the logo of the Federation Council sliding across the screen as it bounced from the edges as he allowed the device to slide down into his lap to meet his mug. With his free hand rising to the side of his head, his eyes closed slowly in thought.

An approaching voice called out to Coby as he let his head fall backwards against his booth-seat's headrest, "How's she doing, then?"

He opened his eyes to the upside-down image of the October's Chief Medical Officer. She came to stop just behind him as his mouth opened, "It's hard to say." was his short response, his head rising as his eyes followed the Doctor around to the other booth in front of him. "How'd it go?"

The Doctor pursed her lips, "... bit better than that, it seems. They only needed me for one sentence. One Sentence. I clear my entire schedule and they just wanted me to- are you ready for it, just wanted me to say..." she paused and cleared her throat before her voice turned flat, "If you ever see a case such as study A, report it to your nearest shipboard physician immediately otherwise contagion is a likely probability'. The Cadet's had more to say and all they had to speak about was the introduction."

Coby pushed up a small smile, "Well Doctor, you're always complaining about the spotlight. I'd have thought you'd have been grateful for the limited involvement."

"Not when I had to sit through the rest of the three hour presentation of what might as well have been school-grade science projects. I'm genuinely shocked there wasn't any paper-mache volcanoes." the Trill's brow rose faintly as she concluded, then her eyes drifted across towards one of the nearest kiosks. She knew Coby had asked to tag along with her in-case he needed an 'in', but she was fairly confident the Captain would be fine without her.

"Sorry Doctor, if you're wanting to get off... Are you good to just wait a few moments, I'll just finish this..." he says, raising his mug.

The Trill bobbed her head, settling in a little deeper into the opposite booth. "No no, take your time Captain. I've been on my feet all day." she sent another glance to her other side, "... Thy's has been over exerting himself again, recently. He wasn't sleeping during those repairs at K-7."

"No, I know. That's why I sent him down to you, Doctor." Coby's voice seemed pre-occupied, his eyes still watching the floating screensaver with some vague interest.

"He wasn't showing any signs of physical stress, so I had no real grounds to take him off-duty. But if he carries on it'll be a sudden, and long, burn out. Wasn't he meant to be on leave this month? I know Mister Sarop was eager to... ah, take over for the time being." as she replied Coby suddenly let out a sigh. The Trill was confused, raising a brow "... Sorry. I can just be quiet if you'd rath-" only to be cut off by a suddenly weak-smiling Captain.

"Sorry, Doctor. It's... this, see? Every time it just... doesn't want to float into the corner properly. Proper aggravating."

She chuckled quietly, "Ah, right..."

"I've asked him to take his leave soon. He was offered a command a few months ago, if you didn't know. Don't... tell him I told you, like. But, as you can imagine he turned it down. I offered my recommendation years ago, but this is the first time he's been propositioned by command." The October's Captain took in a large mouthful from his mug, "I suppose he's never truly wanted much else than he has, bless him. But it's a good way to stagnate your career."

The Doctor smiled gently, "Well. I know I'm not going anywhere any time soon. You'd never hear an end to Commander Quonick's cheers if I were to."

"Wouldn't dream of having anyone else, Doctor. You've a far too good bedside manner to replace."

Mocking a frown, the Doctor clicked her tongue "You're only saying that as you know I'd take the majority of my nursing staff with me."

Coby snorted, shaking his head gently from behind the raised mug as he swallowed the last of its contents. "Ready?"

"Aye, sir." as they both made way to a stand.

The kiosk was only a few steps away from the seating area, and the pair had already made their way over towards the cadet at the desk by the time it had taken to switch the Captain's PADD off. Luckily there wasn't a queue, and the officer infront had just concluded his inquiry with the kiosk as the October's pair arrived. The Cadet finished up with a few audible taps on her console, glancing up to the Doctor and Captain with a chirpy greeting "-Sorry! I'll just be two seconds!"

Coby smiled in response, then shared a glance with the Doctor.

"There weeeeee~ go!" the Cadet started, looking fully to the pair ahead. "Sorry about that, what can I help you both with?"

"Hi there, this is Doctor Lagotoa - I'm Captain Morton. I was wondering if we could just ask you a quick something? We're looking for a Roan Altais..."

---

[LobsterEater]

The October's ready room was its usual, empty self. The addition of an extra picture to his table sat behind a familiar looking pink liquid, and the couch cluttered with two different tunics. The white-shoulders of the first was somewhat more neatly prepared than the other, no doubt ready for him to take to the bridge for the October's departure.

"But that's great, isn't it?" the Bolian concluded, coming to a stand with a tug at her vest. Coby's face put on a smile in quick response, but his eyes betrayed the direct sincerity to some sadness.

"Neema will be great at it, there's no doubt at all. I suppose there's something I'm just going to miss... ... I don't know. The uniform was such a big part of her life, and to have to give it up? I suppose I'm just being stupid. It's almost been a couple of months, and I'm so proud. And, with Katriel's wedding coming up, that'll be a nice bit of time to once again settle and forget about the last few months. That in itself, I'm a little scared for. I mean, this is Katriel's big second day. Gotta' be on my top game."

The Bolian counselor rolled her eyes, "It's been a couple of months, c'mon." She started, "You'll be fine, it's the others you need to worry about." she added simply.

Coby nodded, "I always am, I guess."

As she prepared to leave, she offered a final question; "What about the Romulan?" The Bolian's gaze sharpened, almost disapprovingly.

After pursing his lips, Coby considered something very carefully. "She's definitely after something, or playing some kind of game, but I'd be lying if I didn't say the last few days have atleast been fun. Nothing's happened worth noting, but I’m going to see how far she goes. With her cramped shuttle I diiiiiiid make the offer for her to use one of our kitchens, so we'll see how that goes. Certainly not letting her out of my sight for the time being, but don't leave any PADD's out." he joked, "She's-" The Captain stopped short once again, glancing to the station through the window. "-I can handle her." he says, flashing a small smirk back towards the Bolian. "She likes to talk, it's deciphering the truth that's the game."

She watched for a few moments more, then after understanding he'd say no more she nodded. "Thank you for signing off on the transfers, they should start coming in once we're back from our shakedown. I'll even get the icebreakers out and warm up the retro-projectors for a good ol' fashion ship welcoming."

The human laughed, "Count me in, I'm looking forward to it."

The Bolian nodded, offering a softer more natural smile as she made for the exit.

As the ready room doors clasped shut, he let out a long-held sigh and made straight towards the replicator at the side of the room. He rocked into a lean against it, "Water Bowl - Room Temperature." was his simple request, and waited for the small-ish bowl of water to materialise. Once it did, he cradled it between both his palms and made way for the small enclove at the back of his office. The mirror on the wall wasn't large, but it gave him a good look over his exhausted face.

Sending both hands in, he scooped up a small amount of liquid from the bowl and splashed it evenly over his face. He stared deeply into the mirror, the water having caught his eyes just a little as he raised a hand to stop them from stinging. His thoughts lingered on several people, all at once. But as he stared, the man he'd left on the beach before leaving for Paris lingered foremost. The man wasn't exactly his best friend, it wasn't Eli. It was his memories creeping though. Coby wasn't sure how he felt, but he owed it to the man he once knew to look after him.

He then thought about the Trill, someone he missed deeply and was so very proud of. He felt guilty being back aboard the station, back on active duty after all that'd happened. But he was here now, on his ship, and with a glance to his right he was looking out a porthole at a home he cared very deeply for.

The Andorian crept into mind, of course, she'd been brought up the previous evening thanks to another Andorian and her current personal struggles. The wound she'd left would probably never heal fully, yet as time went forward he could only think of the fond memories. Being so close from an early age, the negatives were usually just petty anyway.

He thought of a new face, then, his eyes dipping to the deck below him as he thought about gingerbread.

Another splash of water went over his face, causing him to recoil away from the mirror as he reached for the nearby hanging towel. He patted at his face, getting most of the water from his skin and made way back towards the sofa, picking up the white-shouldered tunic. A wince came across his face as he looked over it with his arm creeping into one of the sleeves, but soon dissipated by the time he'd zipped the tunic across his chest.

Taking a breath, he put on a charming smirk, heading straight for the entrance to his bridge.

---

---

[LobsterEater]

4 Years Later …

He’d overslept, but it wasn’t an accident.

The corridor gloomed around him, some form of black smog ran the entire circumference of his vision, a very unwanted vignette that appeared to simply serve making him feel nauseous- and that just seemed to set his heart racing. If the nausea wasn’t enough Coby’s head pounded, the sort of pounding you get right across the forehead, though usually it’s the sort of pulsing you receive following several bouts in the gym against your Nausicaan holo-training program.

Rather abruptly, and a little rude he thought, he found himself being shoved into the bulkhead. His shoulder taking the brunt of the force as a silhouette ran past him, but what followed was a barrage of familiar yet distant voices, ambushing him from all sides.

Out of the way, Cadet.
Hmm?

He squinted, the corridor had melted, suddenly finding himself sat on a bench. His brow furrowed, confused wasn’t even the word. Even though it was likely futile his hands rose upwards
almost as a shield, rubbing his eyes just before he could get a look to the blur on his right.

Okay … Where first?
I- where…

Within a second his limited vision plunged to the ever-so-distinct blue hues of another facility’s interior, now standing on what felt like a small raised plinth. As distorted as the voices already were, the disturbing cheers of a crowd weren’t helping the nausea.

Congratulation’s, Captain Morton.
What? Oh, thank you, sir.

Hull Breach, 12, Starboard Nacelle, rerouting adjacent power!
Sorry, what?

You’re quite handsome, Starfleet. For a human.
-Urgh, don’t get- wait, Novum, get away from me.

Morton, get to your bloody station, we need those engines back NOW.
Huh, eh, … what. Right yes sir on it sir.

It’s okay, I mean it really isn’t, but you’re here now.
… right, always will be.

Commander Boyson, Robert, sir.
But you… … this isn’t right.

Torpedo, Brace For Impact!
I’m not sure I’m…

The vignette of smog was lifting just a fraction each flash, as the voices grew somewhat clearer so did his comprehension of the blink-and-you’ll-miss-it environments. His breathing became increasingly strained, just what he needed with the headache and his chest already trying to open up.

We wanted to ask you, well, he wanted to ask you. If you’d officiate.
… mean’t to be here, wait, of course I will! Absolutely.

Morton. You’ve sector command to thank for this, I told them I wanted someone I know. I don’t know you. But, the station is yours, should you accept. You report to my office directly.
-Ashworth? But … you were human, not blue.

Just stop your trap, swallow this, and get out of my sickbay.
Oh behave Soa’, we didn’t even know each other. You are blue.

I wanted her to loosen up, so I dropped one of these in her glass. Harmless really.
-shut up Eli.

Ensign, you’re being reassigned. October. Needs all the Engineers she can get, though you’re going to need this- it’s about time you got that second pip.
That didn’t happen- that was before…

She’s on Earth, you haven’t heard? She’s on trial, and the rest.
… yes and I knew, I went straightaway.

Thus those under his command become vigilant through the intrinsic desire of wanting to avoid his disappointment, rather than extrinsic fear of reprimand.
That was in the report, she didn’t actually say that.

Captain zh’Aeregon didn’t make it, sir. I’m sorry.
… what?

RM-429-7592 WGL, Captain, Federation Starship October.
Wh- … that was me. At least keep it consistent.

Excuse me, sir.
Hmm?

Captain, sir?
Hello, yes.

CAPTAIN, Captain Mortimer, is it?
… no, it’s… what is it?

CAPTAIN MORTIMER!

–

The human Captain’s eyes blinked to full clarity of the flickering flames, hanging over him a uniform-clad science officer, though with the after-twtich of a sharp prod to his chest it caused a hand to give the area a soft, gentle rub for comfort. Morton blinked once more, silently inspecting the officer’s proximity until they took refuge a step back.

The Romulan officer spoke softly, though their muted smirk betrayed a sense of amusement. “I’m terribly sorry to have woken you Captain Mortimer, it’s just… you looked in pain.” to which he then indicated a group of three stood at the bar, all with similar expressions as his own.

“It’s Morton.” the Captain replied flatly, a little too flatly perhaps, and felt obliged to set the now realised Ensign at ease. “-though, if it helps, this isn’t even the most embarrassing thing that’s happened to me today.” offering a short smile.

The Romulan Ensign dipped his head, offering an apparent sympathetic chuckle. “Apologies, Captain Morton. So long as you’re okay?”

Coby bobbed his head into a simple little couple of nods, “Thank you, Ensign.”

As the Romulan returned to his comrades stood at the bar, the Captain leant forward breathing a heavy sigh into both his hands, which then ran upwards and through his ruffled hair. His attention lay on the table of PADD’s and PADDwork he had left to do, but one of them was flashing. Just a little flash. A little red bulb flashing a notification. He’d been ignoring it long before he’d woken up the first time. Scaredy-cat.

[LobsterEater]

The October, still fresh from taking a beating, continues her pirouette as she comes about from her failed evasive action. Her phaser banks glow open, firing at will with next to no assistance from her failing JYNZ Systems tactical computer as she made a desperate attempt to suppress outgoing fire from the Terran dreadnought ISS Crusher, currently engaging the 38th Fleet’s taskforce. The ship looked pained, and her Captain would be lying if the manoeuvre wasn’t a last-ditch effort to shake some heat.

Kearsarge and Alexander made a valiant effort as they headed for the crumbling Atlantis attempting to reach out for as many survivors aboard the ageing Excelsior class, to barely any success.

Sparks flew across the October’s bridge, closely followed by the Helmsman. Through an array of pained shouting, a garbled response came through the bridge’s intercom systems, a mess of static and distortion didn’t help the eeriness- more audible, “Did anyone manage to secure the Admiral?” it was from the Alexander.

The Other’s barrage slammed into the Kearsage, her Captain’s voice calling through as she remained standing atleast. “-no bridge crew.”

Coby stood at the stern of his bridge, picking himself up and launching over the rear railing back to his beloved command seat. His teeth locked tight, baring at the viewscreen. The Atlantis wasn’t there.

The Alexander returned, “October, orders?”

While in reality the moment was only a few seconds, Coby’s head raced for what felt like several hours. It’d happened again. He’d found himself stood on this stupid oversized bridge with all eyes looking to him, his crew he could cope, but he’d not had the fleet staring his way for a number of years. He gripped his chairs armrest, ignoring the ablaze flailing science officer as they were extinguished by two frantic crewmen.

“October to all able ships, focus fire on that dreadnought. We’re sending you coordinates, lock all weapons and fire at will.” Coby shouted, his glance then sent straight to his tactical officer’s station- it was vacant for brief second, only to be filled by an unfamiliar face wearing a yellow stripe. “Lieutenant, auxiliary power to fore armaments, I want phasers pelting that ship. Remaining tubes, 2-5, FIRE.”

The unfamiliar yellow-striped Lieutenant returned, “Aye sir, firing- they’re away. Submitting coordinates to fleet!”

The October banked hard to port, casting a wide spread of her still-functional torpedo tubes towards the ISS Crusher, as she then rotated her dorsal face the October let out her facing phasers against the Terran vessel Newton.

“Bridge to Engineering, I want our fists back up front pronto- take it from wherever you have to get our defences back up.” Coby bellowed, still clutching his chair as carnage unfolded around him, by this point almost every station had a new face at them.

Crusher broke apart and is removed from the board in a series of explosions, Newton’s shields began to buckle just barely still active as the October’s own flickered back to life. On seeing the Alexnder’s shields still up, the ISS Lincoln changed course and made an attack run- just as the USS Cod swooped in over the top of her, sending boarding parties.

Infront of him the taskforce vessels Alexander, Kearsarge and D’Ishae were pelted relentlessly, the Cod and Scharnhorst hardly being given any easier treatment either as suddenly The Other let loose another spread of plasma, the two ships vanishing.

Coby’s brow furrowed as it had only ever in battle, his eyes welling up in rage as a hand finally rose to his bleeding temple, for whatever it was worth. Calling out with a tap of his chest, “All hands, this is the Captain. Muster stations. Muster stations, all hands.” he paused, then again repeated “All personnel to muster stations. Gamma Staff to the ‘Shrewsbury.”

He stared across his bridge, those wounded made their way for the turbolifts, those at whatever console they found themselves remained. “Resume open channel, all ships- … October here, we’re down to secondary emergency shielding. Alexander, Kearsage, D’Ishae, fall back. We will stand for as long as able to cover your exit. Captain Barron-”

An explosion rocked the bridge, Coby continued after he’d straightened “-Captain Barron, fall back to the rendezvous coordinates and fall in with taskforce command. Once you’re clear, we’ll join you in the Vulcan sector.”

While he didn’t let his voice falter, his expression visible to those on the bridge might’ve let slip some disbelief in that last idea.

Through the remaining bridge speakers that hadn’t somehow exploded, “That’s Clear Captain. Godspeed.” from the Alexander, soon followed by the Kearsarge “… October D’Ishae, all fighters are aboard. See you at Vulcan.”

Coby swallowed, his fist clenched as he went to take to his chair- stopping only as the viewscreen flickered to life, the familiar Romulan appeared, flask in hand as ever. “Well… guess this is it, huh?” as the audio became more distorted, Coby could simply watch as the D’Ishae set off a spread of torpedoes, heading at speed towards the The Other, disappearing into the giant gas cloud before them. The human Captain took a breath, his right hand with an uncontrollable shake as the mighty, as of yet undefeated, space whale had a giant spread of plasma heading straight her way now.

The bridge crew rose, the rough ride didn’t make it easy, but they stood firm. There wasn’t any of the usual last-moments chatter, it was a very respectful silence. They’d done their job, and the October had given them all she had.

Not much went through Coby’s head, he’d spent the last hour thinking of nothing but his crew, just now the vessels lost. But, in his last few moments, this was his time. He thought of what he always did, and he smiled.

The blue plasma engulfed the viewscreen to which then the bridge filled with its light from the overhead dorsal glass ports in the centre of the bridge. It felt warm, calming actually. The Captain’s hand unclenched, it had stopped shaking. Coby’s other hand lowered from shielding his eyes, immediately thrusting himself out of his chair and staring glued to the barely-functioning viewscreen.

“… Report?” he said, softly, to no response. “REPORT!” now shouting.

The viewscreen was filled with debris, damage sustained from engaging the Terran’s, but The Other was gone, as was the Terran fleet. Replaced in their stead … there she was, the Scharnhorst.

… the D’Ishae

… … the Cod

… … … the Atlantis.

[LobsterEater]

The Captain’s ready room, which had been just about exactly where he’d wanted it, was a mesh of burns, smashed glass and pieces of his desk spread about- not mentioning the support struts now hanging down from the ceiling. Basically it looked as if a torpedo had gone off, which funnily enough factually wasn’t very far from the truth itself.

To get to his desk, Morton carefully weaved his way around the jagged metal panels that’d turned his office into an episode of Deadliest Klingon Warrior, heading for the shattered display console. It wasn’t so much the console itself, but the two picture frames that the polymer casing of said console had apparently managed to spare were what he was after.

Carefully leaning over he plucked both picture frames together, giving them both a onceover for damage. The one had a crack straight down the middle and the other’s wooden frame itself was coming apart, but overall in good nick as he tucked them under his arm.

Through the jammed open doors two engineers drifted in, the short woman ahead of the other glanced up at Coby and sort of just stood there, “Oh, I’m sorry sir. Shall we-”

Coby cut her off with a raised palm, “Not necessary chief, was just grabbing a few things. Bit of a mess, isn’t it.”

“There’s worse, don’t worry.” she replied, handing over her PADD to the crewman behind her and immediately stepping over towards the remains of Coby’s replicator. The crewman now holding the PADD, a tall Bolian, beamed a grin at the Captain as he stepped over to join her at the replicator.

“Sorry we’re a bit early Captain,” the Bolian added. “We managed to finish up on the bridge turbolift system, you don’t have to crawl through the jefferies tubes anymore. We’ll have all this clutter cleared by the time you’re back aboard.”

“Thanks.” he let escape, softly as he made for the door.

“-I just wanted to say, Captain.” called out the Bolian, it seemed to bounce around the ready room with his undertones, “Your address this morning. It really meant a lot.”

“Oh, I’m glad.” he started with, out of all the addresses he’d ever given- throughout each year, it was a compliment he’d only ever received once. “I meant it, and we won’t forget them.” unsure as to what else to say.

“Everyone seems to be in good spirits sir, but if I may…” as the Bolian turned to face Coby somewhat more directly now, the Petty Officer still taking apart the replicator.

“By all means,” with a wave of his free hand.

“It was sobering to hear, is all, sir. In a good way. We were just discussing, weren’t we…” he nudged the woman behind him, though she simply sat there silently. “… it was a much needed comfort, for some of us.”

The Captain glanced out the porthole on his left, “Someone reminded me yesterday that it’s good we celebrate. Compared to the devastation that could have potentially remained through all of this, it’s… nice to know you’re safe now, isn’t it. You can be honest about that, most importantly with yourself. But that doesn’t take anything away from how we feel about those we’ve lost, or the existential possibility that none of us could be standing here now. I hope none of you feel bad for being relieved at that.”

The Petty Officer glanced over her shoulder, the Bolian silent as he listened.

Coby realised he couldn’t apparently leave it there, adjusting his collar. “It’s true in the last year alone we’ve had to deal with a lot, but I couldn’t ask for a better crew to be right at my side, and wouldn’t change a thing.” That felt a bit too cliche for his liking, but the man who can’t help but babble, struggled to find any other words once again. That was becoming rather common lately.

The woman returned to her work on the replicator as the Bolian nodded, “We’d follow you through anything, sir.” as he then abruptly stood at attention.

The human winced, but quickly and hopefully shrugged it off discreetly as he offered a parting, grateful smile to the pair. “That means a lot, thank you, Mister…”

“Specialist Bret’ka, sir.”

“Thank you, Mister Bret’ka.” as he made his exit onto the bridge.

–

Most of the consoles had been replaced and the bulkheads recovered in new cladding, only small burn marks and blemishes remained sparingly where the panels hadn’t been written off.

“Don’t worry,” a sharp voice called across from the command plinth in the centre, “- they’re called miracle workers for a reason.” it was Commander Saer, the executive officer.

The human snorted, “Used to be one!” he returned over, heading straight across towards the opposite turbolift. Approaching Saer midway, he had a minute for a quick chat. “She’s looking clean, shouldn’t be too much longer and we’ll be back afloat. For like the millionth time.”

The Orion nodded, her arms crossed as she rocked on her heels standing in the direct centre of the plinth, “We’re even ahead of schedule,” said simply. “Got your pictures?”

“Aye, they survived, and before you say I could just replicate them again- it isn’t the point, these have been through quite a bit.” flashing the frames under his arm as he wielded a smirk.

Pursing her lips, “I wasn’t going to say anything.”

Coby bobbed his head, “You okay?” he asked, with some subtle trepidation.

“Yeah… Yeah, I am.” as her attention went to the flickering viewscreen lighting up behind the Captain, drawing both of their attention as Coby continued to smirk faintly, then returned his eyes to the XO “Just counting down the hours, sir.”

Morton’s smirk faded just a fraction and he offered a nod, “I’d forgotten already, sorry.” letting out a breath, “- Are you stowing away on some transport, or have they graced you with a limo this time?”

“I don’t know what a limo is but the IKS Kh’Var is enroute, I’m connecting with them at K-7, so I’ll have two days of absolute … luxury.” Saer rolled her eyes, clicking her tongue as her head went towards her left shoulder, “Are you okay?” the woman almost seemed pained asking, ew.

Coby smiled softly, “Always, Commander. But thank you for asking, I’ve got a meeting with Rear Admiral Bishop in a couple of hours, so I’m just thinking about what sort of tea I want.”

After a second the Orion nodded, “Well if I happen to successfully avoid you for the next several hours in that case, I’ll see you in three weeks.”

He snorted, shaking his head with a raised brow, “Have a good trip, Toash’, she’ll be brand new for when you get back. It was neon green you wanted your quarters, right?”

The October’s executive officer didn’t offer a response, she simply eye’d the human and returned to her pile of PADD’s on Coby’s new-new command chair. As she’d turned, Coby sent his right hand into his pocket and regarded the flickering-but-repaired viewscreen with a long stare, his wrist beginning to vibrate.

He headed for the turbo lift, the weekend that’d been a week was apparently over.

[LobsterEater]

Decrepit, barely functioning spotlights and small plasma fires from the aged, leaking conduits of the station’s plaza made for the perfect romantic setting for a quiet drink. Kicking her leg across the table alongside her other crossing over, the Orion took a long drawn out sip from her short crystal glass as the pair of shabby humans took a seat at her booth opposite.

“Heard you’re looking for passage to the Aldebaran Sector.” she bagan, a smooth seductive drawl as her neck craned into the back of the booth’s backrest.

The older of the pair adjusted his ragged robes, pulling up a small datechip in his hand and placing it gently onto the table. His voice aged, there was an edge to it “If it’s a fast transport.”

The Orion’s gaze snapped straight to the elder human, tilting her head with a furrowed brow. “Fast transport? You’ve never heard of the Century Eagle?” scoffing.

The man swallowed, shifting in his seat as scanned over his shoulder, “Should… I have?”

With a sharpened point to her drawl, “No, I suppose not. I wouldn’t be doing my job if that was the case.” the Orion took another controlled sip from her glass. “What’s the cargo?”

“Only passengers,” he started with a new intrigue, “Me, the boy. Two exocomps.” He paused to lean forward, “No questions asked.”

She regarded her near empty glass with a wry smile, sending her eyes over it’s brim to the pair. Her attention shifted to the young lad beside the robed man for a brief second, then back “Some kind of local trouble?”

“Let’s just say we’d like to avoid any imperial entanglements.”

She snorted, pursing her lips “It’ll cost you, mind.”

The elder man shifted towards the younger, there was an exchange of mumbles before he returned to the Orion “-that won’t be a problem.”

“Docking loom 69, 1900. If you’re not there, I’m gone.” she replied simply, before all three of their attention went over towards the bar behind. “-hold up, looks like you might want to get a shift on.”

As both men inspected the white-shouldered Terran speaking with the barkeep, they made an immediate and quiet swift exit.

She lay further back into her booth, swapping over the legs crossed upon the table as her boot nudged an empty vase just a fraction out of her direct line of sight. Her brow rose as the bartender pointed straight over towards her dim corner, sending the Terran straight over towards her.

Brandishing a red-trimmed phaser pistol opposite his belted knife, the Terran strided over with clenched fists at either side, pushing aside several of the bars patrons enroute. Aside from several heavily intoxicated enlisted Terrans the far side of the cavernous hall, this Terran was alone.

“Toasheaz Saer, why am I in no way surprised to find the likes of your scum in a cesspool like this.” for a stereotypical Terran he spoke softly, his volume rather controlled as he immediately slid across her into the opposite seat.

Saer smirked, her eyes widening “Commodore Morton,” she adjusted her footing along the table, the result caused her skirt to rise up just a fraction, intentionally clearly. “Don’t tell me you’ve taken a suppressant, we had such fun last time.”

The Commodore sank more comfortably into the booth, kicking his left leg over his right’s knee. “You took something of mine, actually. I’d quite like that back.” He smiled, eerily.

“I didn’t think you’d miss it. Finders keepers, and all that.” finishing the last drop from her glass.

“Two weeks ago,” starting with a new cadence, “-you transported three deserters into the Alpha quadrant. Three deserters of the empire during a time of war. Enemies of our dearly departed Emperor. You’re going to tell me where you took them.”

She licked her lips, “Nature of the business, Coby, client privilege. You of all people should know how much that means, I’d not have a business or living if everything thought I’d be as so untrustworthy as that.”

The human let escape a small chuckle, “Come on it’s the one thing I like about you, you’d sell your own mother.” He corrected, “You did sell your own mother.”

“She was a product, not a client.” the Orion corrected straight back, “And it isn’t the only thing, is it… but… I’m not even sure I’d remember in the first place, you know how big my ship is. Lotta’ people are after transport these days, the galaxy is beyond unstable. Maybe some of your strapping boys did get aboard, but there’s no way I’d have known.”

The Terran’s brow arched into a deep stare, “You’d know, and you’re going to tell me.”

Through a raised brow she exhaled into a hearty laugh, “Cobycobycoby. That might’ve worked a few years ago, but your little tinker-toy floating about out there, talk about a fall from grace. Do your agony booths even still work on that old thing?”

The human simply smiled at her once again, holding his stare however “You’re going to tell me, Saer.”

Her laugh slowly faded as her gaze tracked from the Commodore’s cheek scar, down his right arm, straight to the phaser aimed across at her under the table. She tilted her head a fraction, and in true inglorious fashion, “… I’ve had mine on you since you sat down.”

“You’re not that self destructive.” the Terran responded, coldly, slowly rising to her feet.

“Neither are you.” as they both eye’d one another.

“They were carrying cargo, would’ve been a large crate. I know you’d have peaked, you can’t resist. So you know what they were planning.” He adjusted his grip on the phaser under the table.

The Orion nibbled her bottom lip, “Your old pillaging grounds, that battlestation. Argo. I didn’t take them there, but they mentioned it a bunch. Not sure if they were running or heading.”

Coby repeated, “Where did you take them.”

“You know I won’t.” as her back straightened against the booth.

“We’re in a bit of a pickle then, aren’t we.”

The Orion glanced at her empty glass, her lips had initially parted as if to say something, but instead they closed, offering an anxious smirk as she pulled her trigger just at the moment the Terran had pulled his.

[LobsterEater]

The ready room’s wooden trim glistened in the warm lighting, the fresh carpet and spotless wall panelling was once again brand new, though was left feeling somewhat dead as the office lacked any furniture aside from the standard issue desk in the corner.

No plush, cosy ‘L’ shaped sofa. No little picture frames or model ships, not even a decorative blind over the large porthole in the centre of the outward facing bulkhead. In their place sat a mound of PADD’s spaced messily across the floor- some open with visible documents, others switched onto standby either already discarded or not yet gotten to.

Amongst the electronic devices Captain Morton lounged lazily opposite his executive officer, who sat straight but with her legs crossed rather neatly, housing a PADD snuggled deep into her lap. Between the pair an upside down T-shaped device, the base of which sat on two PADD’s itself as Commander Saer plucked a small pin from it, hovering it now above the centre slab.

“B… two?” she questioned, some uncertainty behind it with her eyes narrowing towards the white-shoulder clad man across from her.

The man’s upper lip curled slightly, letting out a near-inaudible sigh. “… hit.”

Saer grinned as her right hand was now a fist, rewarding herself the smallest of small fistbumps with a breathed out ‘yes’, before dropping the white pin back into the base and replacing it with a red one. “Always the top corner, Captain.”

“It’s a gamble, but you have no idea which way she’s facing, could be firing a load of blanks the next few turns for all you know.” The man himself thumbed in a pin against his side of the centre barrier. “G-10.” spoken with confidence.

“Miss.” she replied flatly, recovering her composure from her success last turn.

Coby sniffed, tilting his head. “Are you sure you aren’t cheating? You’ve only got Pegasus and Dallas left, and that dreadnought has to be there.”

His opponent mocked a look of disgust at the mere insinuation, “What’s the expression, sore loser?” she paused, popping in another white pin on her side. “For all you know she’s performing evasive manoeuvres.”

“Wa- … wait are you moving the pieces?” the man squinted.

October’s XO glanced up from the board once again, “… no~? But why would the ships just sit there if they’re under attack? Hypothetically speaking.”

“Commander! You can’t just… like, it’s the game, you can’t move the ships else…” he slowly quietened, eyeing her as she simply rolled her eyes above a very small smirk. Realising she was having him on, he let her resume the game without further complaint.

“A2.” she said with absolute courage, already holding the small red pin between her two fingers and her thumb.

Coby let out another sigh, “Yes, hit. Sunk. Well done.” as he too made a red pin placement.

“Which one was she, the Asimov or the al-Hay-”

“Asimov.” He replied shortly before she could finish.

Saer snorted, “So you’ve… only got the Saratoga left before it’s all hands to evacuation stations then. Have I already scored a hit on her? I’ve lost track.”

Morton’s brow raised, his mouth opened but didn’t let anything escape until just two seconds later for effect, “… that’d be telling. You’ll just have to rely on your intelligence reports to find that out for yourself.”

“Hold up, is that part of the game? Why didn’t you tell me that before, do we roll a dice or something?” The Orion asked with some newly found energy from somewhere, likely her winning hit streak.

The Captain chuckled, adjusting his lounging posture so his weight favoured his elbow. “No, not really. You’ll just have to take a guess, though, see if you can score some lucky shots.”

With a brief glance to her side of the centre board, “… there’s a pretty big space that would happily sit a Sovvie’ Captain, hardly much guess work here. Go on, it’s your go!”

Pursing his lips, “G-9.” The white pin marking a miss presumptuously in his hand ready. “… so, how was it, anyway. How’d you get on? You’ve been back a day and not scolded me once.”

The Orion kept her gaze on the board, it was unlikely she was struggling to read whether Coby’s shot hit or not, so with the pronounced silence Coby didn’t push the subject. “Hit. Good shot!” She deflected with some forced enthusiasm.

He pinned a red marker onto the board happily, “That’s got to be Dallas squeezed in there, just underneath the Valkyrie.”

“As you said, you’ll have to rely on your intelligence sources, sir.” Giving nothing away.

Coby’s finger dipped into the small built-in tray of white marker pins, giving them an apparently satisfying little swirl, “Fair’s fair, Commander.” With just a moment of pause as he shuffled once again, “Remember I’m hosting that trivia night this weekend, I did send you out a memo but I assume you’ve still got me blocked on your personal channels.” he joked.

“Trivia night?” grabbing her attention.

The Captain nodded, “Trivia night! Y’know, like a quiz night. All sorts of stuff. History, General Knowledge, Music… to name a few. You’d love it.”

“Trivia night.” She stated more flatly, no masking her disinterest there.

“Aye, you should come. It’d do you some good to mingle with some other folk, there’s likely to be a few senior officers there perhaps if you’d rather not fraternise with the lower decks.”

The Orion let out a soft laugh, shaking her head. “No thank you, Captain.” She lingered on that moment, tilting her head. “Engineering have done a good job, though. Wasn’t sure what state she’d be in when I got back, let alone almost fully operational.”

“Big part to DS-13’s engineering department and th’Allegro’s, pulled it out of the bag really.”

“And you’re going to redecorate your office… when?” She indicated the vacant and void room.

Morton shrugged the shoulder that wasn’t supporting his lounging lean, “Soon.”

“H… … 6~NO! H-7.” almost repeating a shot she’d already hit.

“… miss.” Coby replied with a faint smirk.

Saer thumped the floor with a flat palm, the fresh and fluffy carpet absorbing most of the impact’s sound. “She’s around there somewhere, I know. You’ve survived this shot, but the next few will be your last. I promise you tha-” a sudden chirp filled the ready room.

”Medical to Commander Saer, you’re needed in lab 3.”

The Orion glanced upwards, tapping her badge. “On my way, doctor.”

“What’s that about?” Coby asked softly, arching a brow as he heaved himself firstly to his knees, then to a full stand brushing off his duty pants.

Saer was already standing, tugging the waist of her belt and tunic straight. “I’m sure I’ll find out in a few minutes, won’t I.” evasively. She glanced at the board, “… I know it’s your birthday and everything, but, I absolutely would have smashed you there, Captain. I’m taking that as a win.”

Coby scoffed, giving his first officer a nod in farewell as she was already making way halfway through the ready room doors.

As the doors shut, Coby reached both his hands into their favourite pockets- his eyes widened before a grin grew with his right hand withdrawing already and opening in front of his gaze, it was a little Sovereign class miniature.

[LobsterEater]

Awful rain pelted the rapidly sinking deck of the old battleship, its splashback from the wooden deck was pretty impossible to distinguish from the salt water surges as the bow was sucked under the waves. Shells soared from either side of the vessel, a blow was struck yet again from a small destroyer off to port, with an entire broadside heading their way from another battleship fore.

In not-too-far distance a friendly submarine surfaced, sending two entire tube spreads at the attacking behemoth. The strike was successful, but alas too late for the ageing dreadnought.

Coby stood, pocketing his hands into his blue officer slacks, on the bridge surveying the chaos as the first mate was taken out by a chunk of glass from the viewing panes behind the helm. He sighed, as he had done the six times before. “Computer, pause program.” He requested defeatedly with the waterline just breaching the soles of his boots.

The helmsman turned, the motion looked a touch disturbing amongst the frozen holographic naval officers, “I… uh. I think I’ll call it a night there too, skipper.” the young Trill pursed his lips, his blue boiler suit fizzling to the Starfleet engineering equivalent. “If Thys had stayed long enough on fire control, I think we might’ve survived that one!”

“Maybe.” Coby replied, a faint smirk with a nod of the head. “Good night, Lieutenant.”

The Trill likewise dipped his head, calling for an arch. “Good night, sir.” and made way through the lore-unfriendly starship exit, which quickly vanished once the doors slid back together.

Coby’s left hand rose to unloosen his tie a fraction and undo his white shirt’s top button, sending another glance at the stasis of destruction surrounding him. “Computer, load program…” the Captain paused, looking off to his right as he considered. There were a few novels he’d been running through lately, with an hour left on the suite itself he was struggling to choose. For a brief second there he considered leaving, since the rest of his party had vacated for their bunks already.

He grew a small smile, “… load program, Dax Gregor-12A, chapter four and resume from last archive. Urm, … Archeologist attire from chapter 6.”

His blue officer jacket and slacks morphed into some loose, rugged and black bottoms paired with a leather jacket. Over his remaining loosened shirt and tie hung a satchel, an ex gas-mask carrying canvas thing complete with a leather strap. With Coby’s glance going to his now occupied left hand, he raised it and placed the appeared fedora over his head, giving the brim a little adjusting tug to tighten its fit.

“Automatic chapter reset in 30 seconds.” came the angelic computer voice.

Coby had mere seconds to adjust to the suddenly blinding desert-scape that replaced the dreary waterlogged battleship bridge, suddenly finding himself taking a sharp tackle to his ribs, collapsing on the floor with his assailant pinning him to a dusty makeshift road.

---

The human coughed through a pair of winded lungs, wincing as his eyesight returned and revealed the woman pinning him to the side of the track, she was clad in long white robes with a headdress that trailed over her shoulder. The dress would’ve been pristine bar it be for its new locale sprawling across the sand.

“Gregor!” she called in a thick accent, “You promised me you’d stay safe. You PROMISED! I said stay away, stay away.”

Coby was still coughing as he pushed the clinging assailant from his chest and plopped her to his side with some considerable distance between them, … considering.

The woman continued, “They’re loading the idol onto a truck, they’re taking it to Cairo. It’ll be gone in a matter of minutes, out of our lives, we can-” she was cut off by Coby moving to make a stand, her hand grabbing his arm preventing him from getting further than a crouch.

“Tru-” the Captain cleared his throat with another cough, “- What truck?”

Before she could answer, the roar of a diesel combustion engine echoed from the rock face opposite the pair, a dust cloud- more like a dust storm, heading straight down the road towards them. Coby narrowed his gaze as he jabbed the woman’s wrist, growing a deep furrow to his brow and leaning into the embankment to watch the convoy of transport vehicles heading straight for them out of sight.

A converted troop transport, a flat bed with a scaffolding frame and draped sheet masked whatever it was carrying, flanked by two armoured motor vehicles brandishing large firearms on their roofs. They were moving towards the pair at speed.

Coby seemed confused, I don’t think I’ve gotten this far yet, he thought to himself as he committed to continuing it regardless, it looked interesting enough. He’d have to wing it, of course. His gloved hand went back to the brim of his fedora, tugging it tightly downward and locking it into place on his head, then began counting as the motorcade came ever closer.

“One Romulan, two Romulan, THREE!-” as he darted out of the ditch and leapt onto the side of the canvas rear of the troop transport wagon passing. The robed woman’s cries were masked by the diesel, her hand just missing Coby’s boot as she’d reached to stop him, though just as the road itself she soon disappeared into a cloud of dust.

He frantically grasped at anything firm to haul himself further up the truck’s rear, a rope here and a piece of canvas tearing there, he’d managed to shimmy his way alongside the drivers canopy at the front- not unnoticed however, a flurry of machine gun fire bellowed between the high rocks either side of the convoy and dashing against the spot his hands had just been.

“Stars~!” he called out, his feet hanging without support as he clung to the truck for dear life. The passenger compartment’s door swung open and without missing a beat as the passenger leaned out with a small pistol, the Captain kicked him firmly in the jaw, causing them to instantly fall from the canopy with a wilhelm scream. Using that momentum he launched himself into the passenger seat much to the driver’s absolute shock. Morton stared blankly at the driver with a blink, but soon ended the special silent moment with a firm right jab into the guy’s nose, quickly making a grab for the steering wheel.

Beep Boop.

”Commander Talercio for Captain Morton.”

The simulated truck chase came to an unsettling pause, the driver of the truck mid-being chucked from the cabin as Coby let go of the frozen character. “Morton here, go ahead.” he sighed, catching his breath.

”You wanted to be informed when Commander Blake came aboard, sir?”

The Captain wiped a bead of sweat from his forehead, tilting his adventuring hat back- “Yes, absolutely, thank you ‘Commander, give her the brief tour. I’ll be in my ready room.”

”Understood sir, Talercio out.”

Coby looked to the pained, frozen driver. “Don’t look at me like that.”

[LobsterEater]

As the simulated drenched-ness of his entire ensemble dissolved once he crossed the boundary of the holosuite’s exit, he reached for the fedora currently resting loosely atop his crown and began folding it gently in half; once it was in a slightly smaller state the human shoved it under his left armpit, using the friction of popping his hands into his pockets to hold it in place as he begun the walk through the station’s corridor. It was a stark contrast, the lightly lit hallway, to the murky and damp tomb but allowed him the ample time to recuperate and catch his breath.

Someone sprinted past him, not that he registered it over his idle stroll and the apparent time he’d delegated to staring at the deck floor.

Rihannsu Jo’unns: Raiders of the Lost Bajoran Orb, what a first chapter. A touch more modern than other adventures he’d been on, but was certainly a thrilling entrance to what seemed to be an upcoming hit. It was his companion through it, though, that was troubling him. Not troubling exactly as that was the wrong word, as well as not the companion herself, but Tri’vokil. It’d been a week or two now since the Federation had become involved with mediation between the planet’s two prominent parties- The Free State, the legitimate government, and the union styled United Assembly.

With the Romulan Republic taking a handle on all military intervention against probable Star Empire hostility, thankfully, Coby had been keeping tabs on the diplomatic corps and their progress between the two native groups. Diplomacy was slow, but in as little as a few days the talks would begin to be formalised somewhat and he intended to be there right at the front.

With the recent attacks he was nervous though, regardless of precautions there’s always going to be a risk of intervention, but the Republic and Tri’vokil security would no doubt do all they could to ensure the envoy party is protected. Some simple diplomacy without a hitch would be nice, wouldn’t it.

Two shadows passed the adventure-clad Captain at speed, though again lost in his thoughts they warranted only a brief glance before the two uniformed officers had vanished around the corner.

Returning to his thoughts, he’d begun navigating the minefield of Starfleet jurisdiction, or rather its lack of, concerning the colony. He’d established already, both in his head and with the colony’s Praetor, that his vessel would not interdict or engage hostile forces unless catastrophic risk was presented; this was something he intended to uphold and almost police any wannabe cowboys, it’s why he was thankful that it fell to the Republic.

He was thankful for Captain Kermit’s assistance, the Reyga was a fine ship and she couldn’t have received a better first commanding officer.

Then there was the Trill. They’d spoken briefly on it, too briefly thanks to him being somewhat grumpy on it. She’d said just what was needed, as always, being the smart and collected one, though hoped she’d be kept well away from it. The worry he’d feel if things turned even worse, that did trouble him. Then again there was no one else he’d rather have leading proceedings if she did get conscripted to the case, not to mention the fact that the ex-commanding officer of the 38th Fleet and avid sailor could more than handle herself.

Weird how watching your entire fleet of antique water-bound battleships sink is quite fun in comparison to actually living it, in space. He thought. Was it weird? No, obviously not.

Coby actually caught the pair of junior technicians running ahead full towards him, he stopped his stroll, furrowed his brow and- aha, he even recognised one of them. “Uh, excuse me, chief. What’s-”

Coby paused as the short human engineer came to a stop beside him, double taking the Captain as the other continued their course down the corridor. “Hmm? Oh, I’m sorry, sir, uh…” she caught her breath, “Everything okay?”

The Captain gave her a second to regain some minor composure, “Where’s everyone heading? It’s a corridor, not a racetrack.”

The petty officer’s mouth hung open a little, her glance again heading down the corridor in the direction she was heading, “Uh… Oh. Yes. I’m sorry, sir. It’s just… Doctor ‘Lindresko, she’s, uh. Well she’s going a bit sick on the ping pong table. Uh, phew.” she took another breath, “Sorry sir. ‘Commander H’ajah just stepped up.”

“Going a bit sick on the ping pong table.” Morton repeated, dryly, almost betraying his immediate amusement.

“Yes, sir.” the PO reconsidered what she’d said in her head, straightening a fraction in posture.

“As you were, but go steady, chief. I’m sure Captain Varley doesn’t need any accidents outside of PT on her station today.”

“Understood sir, of course.” and off she went, at a brisk walk until she’d hidden back around the corner.

Coby pursed his lips, tilting his head a fraction and moving to place his hat back upon his head with a little tightening tug of the brim. It took him a second or two more, but he was soon heading off in the direction of the recreation room at a bit of a pace himself.

[LobsterEater]

“Dropping from warp, sir.” Stated Lieutenant Sheryl ‘Danger’ Walker, current helmsman of the USS October.

Sheryl was a model officer, never late, always volunteering for extra shifts within regulation and always, always has a smile on her face. Beloved by her family, her friends and a number of junior officers, if there’s ever someone you want by your side during any crisis, or even just a party, it was her.

Having served for a year or so onboard Deep Space 13 she was one of the fresh faces added to the roster during the latest crew rotation, eager to finally get among the stars. A lexington ship of the line was certainly a step up from her shuttles, but she’d more than proven herself on several occasions and now was her chance to make it big.

To her credit, as the multiple proximity alarms suddenly started exploding across every console beside her, she didn’t panic. While her eyes may have widened at the 3-second window Lieutenant Commander Presland had given her as he shouted: “Captain, picking up a third ship on sensors, we’re on a collision course!”, she managed to sling the straight-out-of-warp October’s whale mass over the emerging Azedi dreadnought that was now occupying their plotted spot next to the USS Dragon and Virin.

She’d earned her nickname, of course, as many do when serving on assignments. She rather liked this one, ‘danger’, though hadn’t earned it in any way relating to its title.

From the right side of the command plinth, Commander Blake called upwards. “Red Alert! Weapons hot, shields to full.”

It wasn’t long before the dreadnought fired a high-yield exotic particle beam straight through the Dragon’s shields, having previously afforded their own evasive manoeuvres as October, into the planet’s surface below. With confirmation of engagement, she brought the October about as the spatter of her own ship’s phasers began to charge from the Captain’s fire order.

Her Captain rose from his central chair, “Report! What did they hit? Maintain suppressing fire, see if we can draw their attention away.” Was what he bellowed, turning his view towards his operations officer.

Lieutenant Commander Talercio spun in her chair a good 45 degrees to face the command plinth all but briefly enough to engage her Captain, “Devastating strike against several science labs sir, sheltered housing and habitation severely crippled.” Before returning to her console’s display.

She hadn’t met her commanding officer, well, not until three hours ago when she’d been assigned to the bridge while the October delivered supplies in the sector. Receiving the orders to reroute via Talos Junction to the Dragon sounded exciting, a proper glimpse into the Citali system that she’d only read about. Seemed she’d be getting a much closer look than she’d anticipated.

The Lieutenant had however met ‘Commander Talercio, who’d welcomed her aboard as she did many new faces, and overall was rather nice the helmsman thought as Talercio spun back around to her workstation.

The Captain spoke over the bridge communication system to the two 38th Fleet vessels, warning them of the destruction on the surface.

As Virin and Dragon returned fire to very little effect the dreadnought began charging another powerful blast. Adjusting its aim the heavy stream cut straight through the Dragon’s defences once again, only this time she’d been aimed at, with the October’s sister rocking with the blast; there wasn’t an un-winced face on the bridge at that moment as they watched the Dragon lurch.

The Dragon was still holding together as the blast hadn’t completely crippled her, but the October’s Captain stepped closer towards the centre of his bridge, sending his orders straight ahead to the helm.

“That ship doesn’t fire on the surface again. Get us between them.”

Without hesitation Sheryl responded with an “Aye sir.” As her hands glided over the vessel’s pitch controls with the grace of a pianist. Her attention was firmly on her console, but she had the image of her Captain standing over her burned into her mind. She wasn’t flustered or nervous, quite the opposite. She thought about how his statement sounded as though it was a fact, as if it was already decided in the textbooks that the dreadnought didn’t land another surface blow, she was eager to ensure that.

Some chatter came through the bridge’s speaker system once again, it was Captain Tungsten from the Dragon, something about a velociraptor. Sheryl wasn’t sure how one of those would be of much use right now, but she kept her focus firmly on the helm controls.

‘Danger’ came from her love of Musical Theatre, actually. She didn’t act nor sing, but she certainly loved watching it. The Ballad of Henroi Bulishi, the Klingon Brak’Hagh Krek was a personal favourite, and even the Hanging of Ron Jerome in Rome. She’d turned up one evening, much to her peer’s amusement, to an episode of Greaser’s Rebellion IV wearing a beach shirt with the words (coincidentally) ‘Danger’ printed in big, unfriendly letters on the front. Simple as that, really.

It wasn’t longer than a few seconds until the Azedi dreadnought returned its attention from the Dragon to the planet below.

“Lieutenant!” shouted the Captain over her shoulder.

The Romulan, who initially sat beside the Captain, stood from her chair and immediately tapped her badge. “All hands, BRACE FOR IMPACT.”

Lieutenant Walker had already begun the manoeuvre as the single-worded order came from over her shoulder, but it was the XO’s call to the ship that caused her body to tense involuntary.

The October twisted along her bowline, her belly the least populated section of the ship during a red alert was merely coincidence, as the dreadnought’s particle beam struck through her shield’s and slammed ventral into the chevron.

Just as they’d all witnessed their sistership, October lurched sharply upwards. Inertial dampeners held for the most part, but only those hunkered to their console or a guardrail found themselves still upright. Even with the impact being several decks the complete opposite side of the ship, feedback through the powergrid resulted in several mini-explosions and sparks flying across the bridge.

Kara picked herself off of the command railing, suddenly sending orders for engineering and damage control, the ship temporarily with minimal power couldn’t afford the luxury sitting-duck status. The warbird’s commander, Nathes, came across the bridge speakers soon followed by Drake’s once more.

With a grunt Coby rose from the floor too, they weren’t dead, that was a bonus he thought. His eyes went straight to the destroyed helm console, forgoing even just a little sigh he called out; “Lieutenant! Reroute helm c-” he paused, only now just noticing the wide-eye’d Lieutenant sprawled across her back on the deck.

He stared at her for a moment, pursing his lips with a breath before calling over his shoulder with a correction to his command, “Commander Blake, reroute helm control, get us behind that thing.”

The Romulan nodded, jumping herself over the brim of the plinth towards the vacant auxiliary station on the left. Morton returned to the centre, taking up his executive officer’s standing spot watching for just a brief moment as the on-bridge triage team reached Lieutenant Sheryl ‘Danger’ Walker’s body.

[LobsterEater]

As the last week drew to a close the human Captain reflected on the shore leave stint fondly. He had a significant amount of leave still built up to be used, but the short two weeks on Risa with the majority of the senior officer’s from the 38th was a very pleasant respite. There’d been not even a single bridge crew officer launched across to their death throughout the whole trip.

Day one he’d managed to join a scavenger hunt allowing him to meet a few senior officers from the USS Midway, along with her Captain, and Commander Ruke Warner from Deep Space Thirteen.

Then, only a few hours later, he found himself around a fire pit talking to a group of five friends, it was refreshing, they were all civilians and for the first time in a long time there wasn’t a single expectation nor requirement. This sort of lead to a murder mystery party, but Morton bowed out pretty quickly just as the group began to become a little… overly friendly with each other. Like, it is Risa, but.

There was karaoke, a duet with his Romulan friend and he even got to hear the Trill sing. The majority of the music wasn’t to his taste, but it felt good to watch everyone having a laugh. There was also a variety of trivia nights and even an ice cream party, but the peak of his trip was of course his visit with Ambassador Perim at the invitation of Commander Nathes to the festival of Speed Wraiths. A speed boat driven by a Trill, an old silver motor car with matching human and a Romulan in her natural habitat; a scorpion fighter.

A few familiar faces had appeared earlier on in the first week, but must’ve concluded their stay as they weren’t seen again, at least not by Coby. He couldn’t quite remember the faces, but somehow they looked familiar. They clearly weren’t that consequential to him.

There was also mistaken identity, it’s not often one gets confused for the handsome former Admiral Dmitri Konieczko by a remarkably tall, scantily dressed Orion. That provided some amusement, even if the Orion herself seemed somewhat of a dodgy character. Coby left her in the company of the engineering officer from the midway along with that familiar Vulcan Ensign from Captain Kermit’s vessel.

He’d spent as much time as he could with the Trill, he’d said his yearly hello to Commander Sedai and he’d even managed to sneak a PADD’s worth of work into an afternoon without anyone catching him.

The thing is, for how amazing the last two weeks had been (as they usually were) he now had to face the reality of what he was once again going back to. It’d already been a traumatic start to the year, it’s not exactly too easy to move forward when you’re effectively brought back from the dead, but the Romulan Star Empire forces hadn’t likely taken shore leave; without his requested Task Force Morton feared the October and the Dragon wouldn’t be enough even with the damaged Romulan Flotilla to hold back another full frontal assault on the colony world.

That had lead him back here, the Lost Bottle Cove. After catching the group earlier in the week at the cove, he’d decided to stick around a little longer after the last of the group jumped onto their power board and sped away across the water. He hadn’t gotten up to anything special, he just enjoyed the silence and the opportunity to look through peoples thoughts. Maybe this was what being a betazoid was like, only you have to use your own imagination to make up the scenario from the parchment’s writing.

Today, however, he returned to the cove once again alone. Fully clad in his standard uniform ready to depart the planet early, with the exception of some water-suitable boots, he stepped onto the sands and slowly waded into the shallow water. He expected a mixed bag, just as he’d received the latest visit, with a mixture of notes that’d make him laugh and some notes that’d do a good job sending him on his way to depression.

He plucked a small green bottle from the water, adjusting and positioning the bottle to pull out the piece of parchment paper and he began to unfold it gently.

When your mom dies, your dad will move on, find love again, even marry again. There’s no “moving on” for you. He’ll expect you to be happy for him so just pretend. But you and I know otherwise. He really shouldn’t rub it in. You know, his happiness and everything.

Coby puffed out his cheeks, holding the breath for a short moment before parting his lips just enough to exhale the air as he lowered the piece of paper back into the bottle. Not quite on the same level as the one from the previous day or so, but here’s hoping those referenced managed to make something of their unfortunate situation.

After scanning the horizon for a moment he leant his right arm behind him, and in some sort of skimming motion, launched the bottle back into the water for the next explorer to find. It’s always a nice thought to assume that one day, if not already or soon, that these little scribbles find their way to where they’re needed.

The Captain took a couple of measured steps backwards towards the beach, he knelt down and wrapped his fingers around the purple bottle he’d brought with him. From his pocket he withdrew a piece of parchment and a writing implement, not too dissimilar from his little notebook’s pen, and attentively began to scribble down a pair of sentences.

First sentence was short, only three words, affording him space to make his second sentence that little bit longer at five words. He then signed it,

- Milkshake_CAPT.

Those blue eyes of his held the horizon once again, the sun was only just about rising and the entire shoreline was washed out with that gorgeous, golden glow. He smiled very faintly for no ones benefit other than his own and before making way for the transporter pad, he launched his purple bottle into the smooth flowing waves.

[LobsterEater]

“The thing is, the Yogulian’s were a small tribe of settlers stemming from the far end of the Alpha Quadrant. Perhaps 2000-3000 in number now, a very small civilisation by any means and their numbers were depleting rapidly. The mountainous terrain that surrounded their entire settlement was radioactive, causing mass sterilisation, so we were tasked with a simple monitoring assignment.”

“Their people had the means of space travel, their habitation was mostly built of colony vessels as often is the case, though they still retained aerial transport and a single vessel capable of warp-equivalent travel.”

“The issue was their people had been without external contact for over 800 years you see, so with a lifespan similar to that of pre-eugenics Earth, anyone currently inhabiting the colony during the last interstellar visit were either long dead or their documentation of the events considered mythical. Their culture had grown a stigma regarding breaching the sky, so as such, they never left the atmosphere.”

“Needless to say it went awry from the start. 2411 was already a weird year anyway with us about to be shipped off to Task Force Argo, but then our runabout got caught in the gravity field of the small moon while cartography was mapping the mountain ranges. Basically our stabilisers couldn’t compensate due to electromagnetic flares firing from the neighbouring star, and - poof, we went down like a stone in the river.”

“So, we’re stranded on this moon and the Yogulian’s think the world is absolutely coming to an end with raining shuttles. They have this custom, right- this custom that you’re under no circumstances meant to speak unless you’re holding this… rock thing, you know how during Commander Sedai’s icebreakers, like pass the ball or something? Yeah. So everyone has a unique stone, painted by themselves.”

“To speak without wielding your own is apparently punishable by instant death. By the speaking stone things. Or well, y’know it felt like instant death. There might’ve been some chanting or something in between, but we were too busy running through foliage and over rocks to really take full advantage of the first contact scenario we were experiencing. We’d obviously tried to apologise, but that had just made it worse. Can’t remember what they’re called though, the talky stones. It’ll come to me.”

---

---

The trees were thin, green and tall. Like, really tall. Picture a tall tree, got it? Bet it’s still nowhere near as tall as these trees were. They bowed the closer to the top the bark got, creating a natural roof over the cobbled ceremonial steps that rose all the way up to the temple’s entrance. At the peak of the steps stood four Starfleet officers, two red tops accompanied by a blue and yellow either side, facing the temple entrance flanked on all sides by Yogulian’s in robes. Long robes, but we won’t fret on how long they were comparatively, you get the picture.

Yogulian’s were fairly your typical humanoid species, they sported a small single ridge along their nose, with the only other defining trait of their uniqueness was their ice-like skin tone.

Their leader, a woman who’s robes were brandished with silver inlay and trim, stepped forward to the human red-shirted officer. In both her palms she held a circular object in each. In her left hand, the circular stone was set with a similar ceremonial style as the Yogulian’s robe; the one in her right was for the most part blank aside from a small, rather crudely considering her own, drawn starfleet combadge. Two gold slats with a silver delta, just as it should be.

She had the appearance of a woman approaching her early 40’s, black massive eyes and white hair tied up with a single curled strand straddling down to her cheek.

She offered the red-shirted male the starfleet stone, there was nondescript chanting coming from within the temple itself, though was barely audible from this distance. The chanting’s tempo ramped up, and up until the officer placed his palm over it, accepting the legally-required talky stone- the chanting came to an abrupt conclusion.

“Captain Coby, we hereby welcome you and your comrades from this afar Federation, this fleet from the stars, as our honoured guests. What is ours, is yours, what wisdom we accept from you, we give back in kind. Welcome.”

The Captain would’ve been lying if there wasn’t some trepidation on his shoulder right about now, but he did his best to hold the talking rock thing firmly in his hand mirroring the elder Yogulian. “With this gift, I thank you on behalf of all of the officers aboard the USS October, as well as by extension Starfleet and the United Federation of Planets. I thank you for our safety, medical aid and for your forgiveness regarding our failure to understand your communication etiquette.”

“There is nothing to forgive, rejoice!” she shouted in return, raising both her arms into the sky as the mass of locals began cheering. That cheering soon turned to song, there was a drum beat, along with suddenly appearing woodwind instruments coming from the temple.

“Honestly, thank you!” Coby began, under the shower of confetti and cheering. The Elder leant in close, frankly rather invading his personal bubble. “- while there are many ways still to go, I think this could mark the beginning of a wonderful relationship between our many peoples, should you be open to it further down the line.”

Outside of her ceremonial call, she now spoke with informality. “-plenty of time for that, Captain Coby. We’re celebrating! And you’re our honoured guests! I… don’t suppose you know how long you’ll be remaining in our village? You’re more than welcome to share my bed.”

There was a blink, followed by a sudden choke. Perhaps it was lost in translation, or perhaps it was a genuine offer? Maybe they were really hospitable down here. Either way, Coby didn’t get a chance to find out; The red shirted andorian woman beside him, his first officer, let out a sharp almost wince inducing laugh. “- - and he always said he was awful at diplomacy! Hahaha!”

Her voice, in Athini zh’Aeregon fashion, was not quiet. The rhythm of song and dance came to an eerily sudden stop. You could’ve heard a transmodulator pin drop. The Commander’s eyes widened as she eye’d her hands, then to Coby’s and finally the Yogulian’s leader. There was something they possessed, which she lacked. Morton stared at Athini with a fractionally open mouth, soon turning his gaze back to the Yogulian sharply as if about to offer a sincere apology- it was too late though, of course. The leader raised her Yakamutcha Stone, as her voice became shrill, Commander zh’Aeregon now looked to Coby with a pair of saddened, deep puppy eyes as her lips parted briefly.

“Shi-”

---

---

“YAKAMUTCHA STONE! That’s what it was called, a yakamutcha stone. Once we’d well and truly screwed up that first contact, we were sent pretty hastily over into Eta Eridani and the-then Task Force Argo. I think it may have been the Vancouver who were sent over to repair relations with the Yogulian’s. I’ve been back since, of course. There was this whole ‘wanted criminal’ ordeal and a few he said, she said things but it was all straightened out.”

“Those were, I suppose when I think about it, the ‘fun’ times. Out for adventure, getting into trouble, just being silly explorers.” Coby paused, taking a sip from his tea (breakfast, lukewarm) “… yeah, well. You’re probably right." The man let slip a long, drawn out sigh as he placed his teacup and saucer onto the quarters’ table. “Anyway, after that–”

Snowglobe just simply sat there, staring at the man.