With a course laid in for Starbase 55, the USS Shenzhou entered the final phase of its regular duty roster: the graveyard night shift. It was an eight-hour window for the majority of the crew to rest and would put the ship on target for arrival at the starbase first thing in the morning.
Neither objective was realized. At 0441, a call came in that only the Shenzhou could possibly hope to answer in time.
Georgiou awoke to an emergency comm from the graveyard shift chief, Commander Penning. "Captain, USS Triton has sent a distress signal. They've run into the pirates. ETA twelve minutes." The Triton was an old workhorse of a ship, slated for decommission in less than six months, its captain on the cusp of retirement. It had been assigned to the same pirate search as the Shenzhou owing to the vastness of the territory in need of scouring.
"I'm on my way." Thirty seconds later, the general call went out for all hands to battle stations.
T'Vora was already in the turbolift when Georgiou stepped inside. The doors opened onto the bridge and Penning immediately vacated the captain's chair with an update: "Seven minutes."
"Thank you, commander," said Georgiou, smoothly settling into the chair as T'Vora took up a position behind the tactical console with a curt nod, indicating the Andorian currently stationed there, Lt. Cmdr. ch'Theloh, should maintain his station while she observed. Penning moved to take over the operations station from the junior officer stationed there.
"Four enemy combatants," ch'Theloh reported. "One freighter, two Andorian strike craft, and a Tellarite cruiser. The asteroid is outfitted with both heavy phasers and torpedo launchers." The Triton had done more than encounter the pirates—it had discovered their base of operations.
"Red alert," ordered Georgiou. "Hail the Triton."
The Triton's captain, Chaudhuri, appeared as a flat image on the Shenzhou's main viewscreen rather than a projection because unlike the Shenzhou, the Triton was not outfitted with a holocomm system. Chaudhuri had dark grey hair streaked nearly white along the temples and was currently shirtless, having been woken from slumber with such immediacy he had not had time to dress. He immediately launched into a terse status report. "Captain. We've lost our warp drive. Forward shields are compromised."
There was a sputter of sparks behind Chaudhuri. "Aft torpedoes down!" shouted the man at the Triton's tactical console.
"Evasive pattern Delta-6!" was Chaudhuri's reply.
"Give me more speed," Georgiou ordered. Someone down in engineering scrambled to divert as many power systems as could be spared to eke out enough of an increase to get them there twenty seconds sooner. Georgiou barely noticed; she was too busy prepping a battle plan and watching the movements of the enemy ships. "As soon as we drop out of warp, fire all phasers on the freighter. Disable its weapons, avoid drive systems. Torpedoes on the asteroid armaments on my mark. We must draw fire from the Triton. Second phaser target, the cruiser."
"Aye, captain," said ch'Theloh. Georgiou did not question why T'Vora was not on the station. She supposed her first officer thought the more well-rested Andorian would have sharper reaction times.
Their arrival at the battle was greeted by a salvo of phaser fire from the Tellarite cruiser and one of the smaller strike craft. The array of batteries affixed to the asteroid remained focused on the Triton, which was doing everything it could to avoid or direct all hits against it, gliding around in frantic spirals on impulse engines alone. Most of the asteroid's batteries were weapons stripped off various spaceships. It made for a hodgepodge of colorful fire in almost every shade imaginable.
Ch'Theloh carried out Georgiou's attack plans with quick competence, enabling Georgiou to direct the helm to bring them about between the Triton and the bulk of the asteroid's attack. The freighter's weapons went down under the focused force of the Shenzhou's phasers. The freighter immediately turned about, heading for an escape vector. Georgiou let it go, more concerned with reducing the threat to the Triton.
The cruiser was a fiercer opponent. Heavily armored and shielded, it barely seemed to register the Shenzhou's phasers.
Not that this mattered. The cruiser was a feint.
"Fire all torpedoes," said Georgiou.
The force of the unified launch was so tremendous the command deck of the Shenzhou registered the tremor. An arc of glowing pellets shot out towards the asteroid in an absolutely beautiful formation: tight enough to be focused on a small target area, but not so tight as to be taken out by an individual countermeasure.
Two torpedoes went down in the asteroid base's attempt to respond. The other six impacted against two batteries and triggered an explosion of yellow bursts like pustules of energy popping. The lights on the asteroid base flickered and died. A moment later, a larger, red-hued explosion erupted as the asteroid's power reactor overloaded.
The Tellarite cruiser and the two strike craft responded to the loss of the base by breaking off their attacks and turning tail, each warping away in a different direction. The battle was won. Damage to the Shenzhou was minimal. Shield systems and some minor cosmetic damage to the hull plating.
"Can you take on wounded?" Chaudhuri asked.
"Certainly," said Georgiou. "Sickbay, prepare to receive Triton wounded."
When the alert sounded, Saru and Lalana were coincidentally in the middle of a conversation about Tellarites spurred by a line of questioning into whether all species were truly so invested in good manners. Saru had been forced to admit that the Tellarites, a founding Federation member known for their engineering prowess, preferred to initiate social contact with arguments and insults. "This is delightful," declared Lalana. "To air grievances honestly is to facilitate forthright interactions."
"This is not an indication that the Tellarites do not believe in manners. Their Civil Conversation is a structured approach to—"
"All hands to battle stations."
Suddenly, the reason for the Shenzhou's course change a minute earlier became clear. Saru's threat ganglia shot out. "We must go," he declared.
Lalana did not share his concerns. Her hands spun. "A battle? Between spaceships? I would like to see this. Will it be visible through the window?"
"It is not safe. We must move to the ship's interior."
"There is nowhere in the universe which is safe," she replied.
"Nevertheless," said Saru. Lalana stopped spinning her hands and followed him into the hall.
Initially, the halls were empty, but as the rest of the crew roused from a slumber Saru and Lalana did not share, crewmembers appeared and moved briskly past them to assigned locations. For some, that was engineering and maintenance support posts to stand ready to deal with any ensuing damage. For most, it was interior compartments where they would strap in and ride out the danger. Those unfortunate crew who had windowless rooms on the ship's interior were for once lucky: they could ride out the danger in place.
Aware Lalana had no such assigned space, Saru headed for a science lab he knew would be deserted at this hour. The lab lights came on as they entered. The room contained an abundance of empty transparent aluminum chambers and monitors designed for all manner of biology experiments. A stripe of red flashed across every monitor as the ship entered red alert and the lighting dimmed to combat-ready levels.
The emergency seating in the walls was just passably suitable for Saru—less so Lalana. Her physiology was so alien she seemed likely to slip out from the safety belt in the event of a heavy shock.
"Do not worry," said Lalana, "I will lemalallen to the surface."
This was not a concept they had so far covered. As Saru took his seat, Lalana explained. "Lemalallen is when you twine your cells into the surface of something." The word was uniquely lului, one of those untranslatable concepts with no equivalent in English or Kelpien capable of accurately conveying the nuance of its meaning.
The Shenzhou dropped out of warp and was hit by a volley of phaser fire that elicited a distinctive auditory vibration from the shields. Saru's ganglia, which had only just slipped back into the folds along the back of his head, reemerged. Lalana continued uninterrupted with a description that would have better suited a conversation with Paxton than Saru. "The word is a compound of lema, which means object, and lallen, which is when two lului sit in close proximity and twine their fur together."
The Shenzhou returned fire. Saru gripped the straps on his safety belt and closed his eyes. "What—What is the purpose of it?" he asked, desperate for a conversation that would take his mind off the battle underway.
"For lemalallen the purpose is to secure yourself in a place, and for lallen, it is to experience connection with another. Lului very much enjoy physical contact."
The gravity generators strained under the forces of evasive maneuvers, pulling them to the side. True to her word, Lalana barely moved. Her explanation continued in the calm, artificially cheerful tone of the computer's translation.
"Though our bodies are discrete, it is preferable for us to experience being a part of a larger whole the same way our cells are a part of us, and one way is to have our discrete cellular networks in proximity with the discrete cellular networks of another."
A tremor shook the room as all the Shenzhou's torpedoes fired. Ten seconds later, the ship went still and quiet. The battle was over. The lighting switched from emergency settings back to regular operational levels as the red alert ended. Saru's ganglia retracted fully.
"Captain Georgiou is a highly competent tactical commander," was all Saru could think to say. Then: "We must remain in place until the all clear has been sounded." It was important to keep the halls easily navigable for repair crews.
Another minute ticked by. Saru did not find the emergency seating very comfortable. "We may move about the room." As Saru undid his safety belt, Lalana slid out from hers without undoing the latch, confirming Saru's initial assessment.
They stood there in the science lab surrounded by empty transparent aluminum chambers, waiting monitors, and offline experimental protocols and Saru found himself at a loss. Continued conversation about Tellarites suddenly seemed unfathomably absurd. Lalana stared at him as if expecting something. Saru went to check the battle logs on one of the consoles. "It would appear we have encountered the pirates we were tracking prior to encountering you and engaged in battle with them."
The doors slid open, revealing a woman in white silk pajamas with a snarl of honey-brown hair twisted around her head. She was not a member of the Shenzhou's crew. Her dark, watery eyes registered surprise. "I'm sorry! I didn't think anyone was in here," she blurted, turning away.
"Wait," said Lalana. "You are upset. What is wrong?"
The woman hesitated. Two Shenzhou crewmen came jogging down the hall with toolkits in hand and the woman darted into the science lab. The door slid shut behind her. "I'm sorry," she sniffled, wiping at her eyes. "It's just—my wife—"
"What is your name?" asked Lalana.
"Lieu—Lieutenant Yoon. Hydroponics, USS Triton."
"And your friends call you what?"
"Daisy."
"Then, Daisy, will you sit and tell me what has happened?" Lalana pressed her tail against Yoon's arm, gently guiding her to the emergency seats.
Gradually, a picture emerged. The Triton had been sweeping search targets deemed minor and unlikely during the graveyard hours and stumbled across the pirates accidentally. The ensuing battle had seen the ship's crew roused mostly from a state of deep slumber. Yoon's wife, Morita, was senior security chief and chief tactical officer but had been unable to reach the bridge and detoured to a torpedo bay instead to assist from there. A lucky or skillful strike by the enemy had caused the bay to catch fire mid-launch. Morita and several other wounded had beamed over the Shenzhou in the battle's aftermath and Yoon accompanied them, unwilling to leave her wife's side.
Throughout this explanation, Lalana kept her tail on Yoon's hand. Eventually, Yoon took hold of the appendage and clutched it like a lifeline. Saru was surprised how easily comforting the young officer came to Lalana. Kelpiens, being comforted by so very little in the grand scheme of things, were not known for their skills in this area.
"Do you think she'll be okay?" Yoon squeaked at the story's end.
"Let us go find out."
"They—they told me to leave," said Yoon, shaking her head. The duty nurse's exact words had been that there was nothing Yoon could do in sickbay but get in the way, which sounded harsh, except the nurse's tone had been exceedingly sympathetic and kind.
"Forever?" asked Lalana.
Yoon hesitated. "No..."
"Then let us go. Perhaps it no longer applies."
"I can check patient status—" began Saru, but too late. Lalana was already drawing Yoon to the door. He finished lamely, "—on the monitors."
"The only way to truly know things is to see them with your own eyes," said Lalana. "Anything else is an echo of the truth."
When they arrived in sickbay, it was to the sight of a body covered by a sheet. Yoon stepped tentatively forward, her face going slack. A four-eyed Kakravite moved to block her path. He was the Triton's chief medical officer, Dr. Ek'Ez. "Daisy, no—"
"Da Hee," called a voice. A woman with short, dark hair was on the medical slab in the corner directly to the left of the door. Yoon gasped and ran to her, stopping just short of an embrace. Burns covered the right half of Morita's body, her modesty maintained by the presence of a blanket against her chest because most of her tank top had been incinerated. She was holding a dermal regenerator in her left hand and using it on herself. Yoon scooted over to Morita's left side and tentatively pressed a cheek against Morita's unburnt shoulder. Morita winced as her hand fell into her lap.
Saru questioned the wisdom of infringing upon this clearly private moment as he trailed Lalana to join the couple. Neither human seemed to take much note of their alien onlookers in the moment. Yoon looked over at the body under the sheet. "Then..."
Morita swallowed. "Walter Chen. He was... inside the field. I tried... I tried to pull him out..." She shook her head. "I told him... It was my fault he was in there."
Yoon drew back, hiccoughed in distress, and covered her mouth with her hand as big, wet tears renewed the tracks of damp salt already painted across her face. Morita's face twisted with unvoiced anguish.
"I'm—I'm so sorry, Reiko," Yoon managed.
"You have much damage to your surface," said Lalana, stretching up alongside Morita's slab. "May I assist you?"
The tissue regenerator was laying on the blanket across Morita's lap. Morita held it out tentatively. Lalana took the device and put it down on the slab's edge, instead pressing the flat of her tail directly against Morita's burned skin. What exactly she was doing, none of them could tell, least of all Morita, but the shock of the action was temporary distraction from the grief.
"Please let me know if there is any discomfort. I have only been in proximal contact with human cells once before."
"No, it's..." Morita shifted slightly, glancing between Yoon and Saru with confusion. "It feels much better."
"If you continue to use your technology device, it will go much faster together, I think," said Lalana.
Morita picked up the regenerator and switched it back on. "Who are you?"
"This is Lalana," offered Yoon, drying her eyes on her sleeve. "She stayed with me while I was outside."
"Yes, Daisy was very kind to tell me some of what happened on your ship. And this is Lieutenant Junior Grade Saru, but you may call him Saru."
Hovering to the side, Saru gripped his hands together in discomfort. He had not given Lalana permission to extend that measure of familiarity to their guests, and as harmless as it was, he would have liked to make the determination for himself. It was one of those tiny measures of control that seemed insignificant but meant a great deal when you came from a species that traditionally had control over very little in their lives. Saru shuffled a half-step forward and craned his neck. "This is... lallen?"
"Lelulallen," clarified Lalana. "Piercing the cellular barrier to assist in repairs. Though the cellular structures of humans are different from my own, we share many of the same basic materials of life. I am providing your cells with nutrients from mine and assisting in the removal of harmful microbes. I also offer my surface as a support for repairs."
"Thank you," said Morita, hesitantly polite. It did seem to go faster, the two of them working in tandem, but Lalana's choice of first aid methodology drew the attention of the Triton's doctor and he hurried over, all four of his eyes wide with alarm. The ensuing explanation of the technique did little to settle his fears, especially when his medical tricorder failed to register Lalana as a life form.
"This is an untested medical procedure," he fretted. "There might be any number of contagions, interspecies incompatibility, radiation or..." He faltered. The tricorder failed to register Lalana, but his scan of Morita was showing significant improvement in the affected areas.
"I consented," Morita offered, not that she actually had until now.
"Ek!" bellowed a hulking brute of a man on the other side of the room with blonde hair and blue eyes. He was shirtless and seemed to have roughly as much hair on his chest and arms as he did his head. Ek'Ez wavered.
"You will tell me at the first sign of anything and I will monitor you closely upon return to the Triton," said Ek'Ez. The man across the room yelled again, apparently taking affront at something one of the Shenzhou's nursing staff was doing to his leg. Ek'Ez hurried back over, shouting in reply, "I am coming, Lieutenant Larsson, please restrain yourself!" Saru startled as the aforementioned Larsson banged an angry fist on the surface of his slab and proceeded to argue loudly with Ek'Ez about the way his broken leg had been reset.
"I can't believe him," said Yoon softly, shaking her head at the display.
Morita was less judgmental. "Walter was his friend."
"Was he also yours?" asked Lalana.
Somehow, the answer to this question seemed to make things worse. "I barely knew him," said Morita. She left unexplained the details of their service together—how she had come aboard the Triton six months earlier in the position of Chen's supervisor and been assessing his performance for reassignment pending the Triton's upcoming decommission. She did know Chen as a colleague and a marginally competent officer, but in the aftermath of his death, she felt she had not known him nearly well enough as he deserved.
Lalana shifted her tail from one patch of skin to another, asking, "Did he choose to be where he was?"
Saru decided her curiosity was aberrantly inappropriate in this context. "Lalana, perhaps..."
She ignored the half-formed warning and continued, "You said it was your 'fault' that this event has happened. This is not a concept my people have a word for. It is a thousand million tiny interactions which lead us to the place in which we stand. There is no one moment or person who is more responsible for any outcome. Events are a cumulative result of all events which came before them.
"In my short time with Starfleet, I have observed that all of you choose to be here, seeing the stars, which is something I can well understand. To see even a sliver of this celestial vastness is an incredible delight. If Walter Chen chose this like you and Daisy and Saru do, then he was in a place he wished to be, doing a thing he wished to do, and his life was well-lived and his death well-chosen. That, to my people, is considered the most important thing there is, to be able to choose your own death. During the years I spent with Margeh and T'rond'n, I learned that this is a rare thing. So many living creatures die in places they do not choose, doing things they do not wish to. Walter Chen was not among them. Walter Chen was in Starfleet."
Morita took this in carefully and calmly. The sentiment of he died doing what he loved was as true as it was insufficient recompense for the loss of a life. She understood that this strange alien was attempting to offer comfort, fraught as the attempt was with functionally meaningless information because neither she nor Yoon knew who Margeh and T'rond'n were or the circumstances of Lalana's captivity up until this moment, and she also understood the most important thing of all. She smiled, mournfully but with a budding blossom of pride. "Yes. He was Starfleet."
To everyone who wore that uniform and insignia, there was no greater memorial.
