Jason was tucking in his red, long-sleeved undershirt in when he asked. "I understand why I have to be there. I'm the cap'n; I'm supposed to work with this diplomatic horse...hey!" He exclaimed. "What was that?"

Zasora Niana retreated slightly, an empty hypospray in her hand. "Just a mild sedative. Captain, ever since that ordeal with the Berellian, you've been overworking yourself. I'd rather you didn't, because the stress isn't helping the trauma recovery."

"I know, I know..." Jason mumbled, fixing his belt before he leaned down to put on his boots. "Hey, since you're here and I'm working with the boots of death, could you go fetch my dress jacket? Dresser, second drawer up, on the left."

The grumbling of her captain became incoherent as Zasora left the room for Jason's room. Her commander's room was truly...Terran, in origin. An antiquated record player sat on one of the stands, with a bookcase full of records and books next to it. The dresser which he had told her about was a large oak one, which was certainly fit Craz's appreciation of old things. She opened the drawer, finding the white jacket that was now the standard for officer's dress uniforms. She pulled it out of the drawer, but as soon as she did, she heard the faint noise of something metallic dropping. She looked down, and saw it.

It was a pair of rings, linked together and with a chain running through them, forming a necklace. She picked the rings up and brought them up to her eye for a close look. On one ring was the name "Jason M. Craz" and on the other, "Rachel Kiana".

"Hey," Jason's voice said, growing louder as he moved closer. "I was just-" He stopped when he saw her. "Ah..."

Zasora looked down at the necklace again, and her cheeks flushed a deep forest green. "I...I'm sorry, Jason, it just fell out."

But Jason simply shook his head. "It's all right. Um, do you want the story?" He asked. The Captain, his usual "bravado and friend" had been slashed away somehow, and Zasora knew why. Someone had actually found out something about the man, his past.

"Only if you want to talk about it." Zasora replied, her voice a careful one.

Jason's fingers twiddled around the necklace, seeming to focus as he composed his thoughts. "She was a diplomat's aide, back when I was serving on Starbase 87. This was 2363, before you were even in the Academy, probably. Back then, the Cardassian Border Wars were going on...lots of horrible stuff happening around there. I was just a lieutenant, newly minted after passing OCS...she was on her first assignment away from the heart of the Federation, out here on the frontier. I met her in a little pub on the station, and I bought her a drink." His smile was of a melancholy joy. "After a few drinks, I finally got the nerve to ask her to dinner the next night.

"The date was amazing. We ended up just...talking for hours on end. So we had another date a few nights later." Jason let out a sigh. "And another, and another, and... five months later, we got married."

Zasora gaped at him. "Does Rhi even-"

"Nope," Jason replied, shaking his head. "I'll tell her…some day."

"What happened?" She asked. "Did you divorce?"

Jason shook his head again. "No, um…not that. She had brain cancer, terminal. She died about six months after we got married." Zasora noted his usual, upbeat tones had sullen down. His voice grated, as if humbled by this exposure.

"I'm sorry, Jason. I had no idea." Zasora replied.

Jason picked the dress jacket off of the dresser and put it on. Taking the necklace, he put it into his pocket. "It was the point. I didn't want people to know."