Ad Astra Per Aspera

by skylarkblue

T'Lyn experiences her first year on a Federation Starship. With it comes challenges new and unexpected.

The Cerritos was a modest ship.

Where the Sh'vhal had sleek lines and flashy design – as flashy as Vulcans ever got, anyway – the Cerritos was made of heavy curves and a smaller frame. T'Lyn watched with growing curiosity as the ship – her future ship – docked aboard the space station.

There was little more to do than gather her things and report for duty, so without further ado she picked up the small bags of luggage and her PADD and stepped out of the booth she had been sitting in. She inclined her head towards the human bartender, who gave her a jaunty wave as she stepped out into the corridor, and began the long walk to what the humans called the shipyard.

It was quiet on the station. She passed few people between the bar and the yard, so affectionately named for the places where early human vessels had docked on Earth. The moment she stepped out of the double doors and into the yard, however, it was a different story. There were Starfleet officers milling about, shouting across the expanse at each other; there were young ensigns clustered in groups, talking animatedly; and there were all manner of people doing things, from carting vital supplies aboard the ship to security officers barking out orders.

T'Lyn walked through the crowd, resisting the urge to run her fingers along the collar of her tight shirt. It was blue – the colour that Starfleet officers called Science Blue – and it sat at just the wrong spot for her to be completely comfortable. She ignored it for the most part, though. She would grow used to it with time.

She stepped into the airlock and waited patiently as she was put through the next set of doors. As she walked through them, she found herself inside the ship, in an area that resembled the cargo hold of the Sh'vhal. There were fewer people inside here, but there was an older human gentleman in yellow holding a PADD and directing people where to go, so she made her way to him.

"Name," he asked, barely looking up from his PADD.

"T'Lyn," she answered.

"Rank," he asked.

"Ensign," she answered.

He tapped something rapidly on the screen, and then jerked his head to the left. "Head over there. Your orientation liaison will meet you."

T'Lyn offered him a flat stare and shifted her gaze to the left. There were a few people there, so she shifted her bag on her shoulder and took a few purposeful strides over. She had almost come to a stop when she was pounced upon by an excitable Orion.

"T'Lyn! Hi!" The Orion did not grab her, though T'Lyn could tell from the way her hands moved she had gone to and thought better of it. "I'm D'Vana Tendi! It's so nice to meet you!"

"Greetings," T'Lyn offered, taking a half-step back. D'Vana Tendi was shorter than her, with dark green hair buzzed into an undercut and skin a few shades lighter. She was wearing a blue Starfleet uniform and dark pants, with sturdy boots on her feet. She bounced on her heels slightly.

"Let me get that for you," she said, reaching for one of T'Lyn's bags. T'Lyn allowed her to take it, moving the bag in her right arm to her left shoulder; she had packed light, a scant few uniforms and some casual tunics, and a few personal items such as her lyre and chess set. It was still enough to fill the two bags.

"We'll head to the bunks first and drop off your things!" D'Vana did not seem deterred by T'Lyn's lack of enthusiasm, and led the way into the ship and to the turbolift. T'Lyn found herself, oddly enough, wanting to say something, but found she could not find anything to say. D'Vana continued chattering away, telling the Vulcan about her role on the ship and how they'd be working together, and T'Lyn allowed her to continue this way until the lift stopped off on the lower decks.

"Did you grow up on Vulcan?" D'Vana asked, making her way down the long hall.

"Yes," T'Lyn replied. After a moment, she added, "I attended the Vulcan Science Academy in my youth and served upon the ship Sh'vhal for the past two years."

"Ooh, that must have been so interesting," D'Vana enthused.

"I found it adequate," T'Lyn answered.

As they rounded the corner, T'Lyn overheard a dark-skinned woman say, "Ugh, I can't believe we're gonna have a Vulcan down here! It's already bad enough with you losers, now I can't get away with anything!"

T'Lyn arched an eyebrow at her, as D'Vana said a reproachful, "Mariner!"

"Oh hey, Tendi!" The woman, Mariner, turned around and caught sight of D'Vana with T'Lyn. She had the decency to look a little guilty as she added an awkward, "Hey, um…"

"T'Lyn," T'Lyn replied. "And it is not my preference to be amongst humans, but I am sure we will manage."

"I didn't mean, like, because you're Vulcan," Mariner was quick to say. "You guys are just all about rules, and I like breaking them. Some of my best friends are Vulcan."

T'Lyn was amused by the woman's rush to not be perceived as prejudiced against Vulcans. It did not show on her face. There was a human male on one of the bunks, reading something on his PADD, but otherwise the corridor was empty.

"Boims, come say hi to T'Lyn," Mariner turned to the male, who looked up from his PADD a little distractedly.

"Hi, T'Lyn," he said, swinging his legs over the bunk and sitting up. "Bradward Boimler. Nice to meet you."

T'Lyn gave him a nod, and shifted her attention back on Mariner, who had still not, particularly, introduced herself. D'Vana seemed to realise what she was thinking, because she said, "T'Lyn, this is Beckett Mariner."

"Where is my bed?" T'Lyn asked, looking around. The corridor was lined with bunks down either side, each with a small cubby attached to it and a slide-out wardrobe. There were personal effects of all nature in each bunk. In the one closest to her, there was a photograph of D'Vana and Beckett pulling faces at the camera, and another of Beckett and a blue-skinned Andorian woman side by side. There were other images, as well, and a small necklace hanging from above the bed. It seemed oddly sentimental for somebody like Beckett Mariner to keep in their bunk, but T'Lyn did not comment on it.

"Over here," D'Vana said, taking a couple of steps down and patting her hand against the bed above her head. "You don't mind having the top bunk, right? If you do, we can swap!"

"This is sufficient," T'Lyn said, dropping her bag from her shoulder and swinging it up onto the bunk. She accepted her other bag off D'Vana and added it up there, climbing up and taking a seat on the firm mattress. Mariner was bothering Boimler, attempting to grab the PADD off him and distract him from his reading. T'Lyn's mouth twitched as she considered them. Humans were illogical, but this she had expected when she had been transferred into Starfleet.

"Do you need help unpacking?" D'Vana said, peering up at her. "When you're done, I'll give you a tour of the ship, okay?"

"I can unpack without assistance," T'Lyn said, unzipping the first bag. She pulled out the first stack of clothing and paused, glancing down at D'Vana, who seemed very eager and kind and not at all like what she had expected of an Orion. "The offer is…appreciated."

D'Vana grinned up at her and bounced on her heels again. "Okay. Just let me know if you do need help, okay? I'll be in my bunk."

T'Lyn placed her clothing inside the pull-out wardrobe and began stacking it neatly. There was a small set of hangers provided, so she placed her uniform shirts on them, lining them up one after the other. She placed her tunics to the left, a set of formal robes beneath them, and stopped for a moment to run her finger along the stitching of the neat lettering that lined her robes. They wished the wearer peace and harmony, and the balance of logic and truth. Her father had been with her when she had picked them out.

She returned to the bags, sliding the wardrobe back into its place and placing her lyre and chess set into the cubby. She could hear Mariner and Boimler arguing still, but there seemed to be no malice behind it; she could hear D'Vana typing away on her PADD. She paused for a moment, before sliding out a drawer and tucking her bags away inside, and then sitting back on her heels, still kneeled on the bed. She would have to meditate today. She did not know where, though – surely she could not meditate in here, in the confines of the bunk. She doubted that the other woman would know, but she thought, idly, that it may be an idea to ask D'Vana if there was a communal meditation space aboard the ship, or if perhaps there was an available holodeck she could set up to her needs. It was worth considering.

She climbed down and stopped at D'Vana's bunk. "I have unpacked my belongings."

"Great!" D'Vana said, sitting up. "Let's take a look around the ship!"

"Mind if I tag along?" Mariner asked, leaning against the bunks and ruffling Boimler's hair. "I've got nothing better to do until Jen finishes her shift."

"Sure!" D'Vana said. She stopped and looked at T'Lyn. "I mean, if it's okay with you?"

"It is fine," T'Lyn said, looking between them. She was not bothered in the slightest by Mariner joining them. Her father had told her she should use the opportunity of being on a human ship to broaden her horizons. It was logical to meet and interact with many different people, of different species. It would broaden her horizons.

"Let's go," Mariner said, taking the lead. "I'll show you all the cool spots. Tendi will just show you, like, the Jefferies tubes and the warp core."

"The Jefferies tubes and the warp core are the cool spots," D'Vana insisted, lengthening her stride to keep up with them. "Don't listen to her, T'Lyn."

T'Lyn looked between the two women, sensing the camaraderie between them. She had never had a bond like that with anyone on the Sh'vhal. She and T'Gai had played chess together a few times, and would occasionally read in companionable silence, but they were not, as a human would describe it, friends.

She stayed quiet as they wandered the ship, starting with the holodecks, of which there were three, and continuing on to the gym. D'Vana and Mariner would occasionally stop to say a quick hello to the people they ran into, but the ship was otherwise quiet. Most people, T'Lyn imagined, would be down on the station, taking some much-needed leisure time. She found herself wondering when she was going to meet her commanding officer, when they stepped inside sickbay.

"Tendi!" A Caitian looked up from her PADD, flexing her fingers. "Are you busy?"

"Showing our newest member around the ship," D'Vana said proudly, nudging T'Lyn forward. "Dr T, this is T'Lyn."

"Vulcan eh?" T'Ana's tail twitched. "Tendi, go make yourself busy for five minutes. Tidy the instrument bay."

"Yes doctor," D'Vana said, turning away. T'Lyn watched her go, before returning her attention to the doctor.

"Let's get this over with," T'Ana said, jerking her head to the left. "Follow me."

T'Lyn trailed behind her, hands clasped behind her back. She watched as T'Ana leaned against a biobed and picked up a PADD, swiping through it until she'd pulled up the Vulcan's file. She skimmed it, humming thoughtfully to herself, and then set it aside.

"We've received your files from your last post, but let me check a few things," T'Ana said. She picked up the PADD again and scrolled back to the top. "Name?"

"T'Lyn," T'Lyn replied.

"Prior conditions, none. Previous injuries, broken ankle at age thirteen, healed on Vulcan. Allergies, none."

"Avocado," T'Lyn interrupted. T'Ana blinked, her ears flicking backwards.

"Doesn't say anything in your file," she said.

"It was recently discovered," T'Lyn said. "While I was on a Federation station. I was treated by the medical team there, perhaps my file simply has not been updated."

T'Ana grunted in reply and began typing rapidly, updating the file in front of her. There was a soft peal of noise, and she spun the PADD around, so T'Lyn could see that it now read ALLERGIES: AVOCADO.

T'Lyn gave her a single nod, hands still clasped behind her back. T'Ana pulled out a tricorder and waved it over her for a moment, squinting at the readings and muttering, "good enough". She set it aside and stood with her hands on her hips, considering the young Vulcan.

"Do you know your assignment?" She asked.

"Yes," T'Lyn replied. "I am supposed to report to you at 08:00 hours."

"Hn," T'Ana grunted, eyes narrowing. "What are you good at?"

"I do not understand the question," T'Lyn replied. There had never been any considerations of what she was good at on the Sh'vhal – merely what she could do successfully. It had made for an efficient ship, even if her assignments had often been, she felt, busy work.

"What are you good at, kid? Where do you excel?" T'Ana's tail lashed back and forth. "I run a tight ship here. I want the best in my team, and I want everybody doing what they do best."

"Programs," T'Lyn found herself saying. "Code."

"Alright," T'Ana tilted her head, nodding. "We can work with that. There's plenty of scutwork, too. I can always use another set of hands. How's your bedside manner?"

"I have never worked in medicine," T'Lyn replied. "I am unsure."

T'Ana considered her for a few moments, then waved her away. "Go. Go find Tendi, we'll work out the details when you report for duty tomorrow."

"Yes, doctor," T'Lyn replied, inclining her head as she walked away. She found Tendi on the other side of sickbay, aligning a set of instruments on a silver tray. She looked up, smiling as she put the last one in place.

"Y'all done?" Beckett asked, arms folded as she leaned against the wall. "Let's get out of here, I hate this place."

"Mariner's scared of the doctor," D'Vana whispered to T'Lyn conspiratorially.

"I am not," Beckett said, stressing the last word. "I have no problem with T'Ana."

"I never said you were scared of T'Ana," D'Vana teased, leading them down one of the many identical corridors she seemed to know like the back of her hand. Beckett huffed, muttering "yeah, whatever," as she nudged D'Vana in the side. D'Vana chuckled, taking quick strides towards the turbolift.

The doors opened, and the three women stepped inside. T'Lyn stood ramrod straight, arms tucked behind her back; D'Vana shifted from foot to foot, eager to continue with her tour; and Beckett slouched against the wall, running a finger around the edge of the control panel, like she was considering pulling it open and messing around with what was inside. They stood in silence as the lift moved up a floor, and then another, before finally stopping and the doors opening.

Inside stepped a woman with dark skin, and dark curls streaked through with grey. She wore a uniform shirt of deep red, with four pips on her collar.

T'Lyn realised, both from this assessment and the way D'Vana stood to attention, that this was Captain Carol Freeman.

Since her ordeal with the admiralty and her subsequent court martial, Captain Freeman had aged considerably. T'Lyn thought of the brief moment she had seen the captain when the Sh'vhal had assisted against the Pakled ship the previous year; Captain Freeman's hair had gained several stripes of silver, and there were frown lines across her forehead and at the corners of her mouth. She seemed thinner, though still built of compact muscle, and as she stepped inside, T'Lyn found herself wondering how exactly the captain had regained her ship and her command after the tumultuous events of the past year.

"Ensigns," Captain Freeman said, turning and facing the door. "Mariner, what are you doing?"

"Showing our newest member around the ship," Beckett said, intentionally dodging the question. "Mom, this is-"

"Ensign…T'Lyn," Captain Freeman said with just a moment's hesitation. "Our new transfer from the Sh'vhal. Welcome."

"Thank you," T'Lyn said. She knew, here, a human would say something like "I look forward to serving with you", or "I'm so glad to be here", but she did not feel those things, exactly. Eager to get into the work, yes. Happy to be here? Not exactly. The human odour was an assault to her olfactory senses, and the blatant emotionalism they displayed was deeply troubling to her. She wondered what her father had gotten her into by transferring her into Starfleet.

"Mariner, report to my ready room at 18:00 hours," Captain Freeman said, before disembarking on the next floor. The moment the doors closed, Beckett let out a lengthy groan.

"Dinner with your mom again?" D'Vana said sympathetically.

"Ugh, she's been so clingy since she got back," Beckett exclaimed. "I love her, but seriously."

"I did not realise the captain was your mother," T'Lyn remarked, casting a sidelong glance at Beckett. "I have had a parent as a superior officer, as well."

"Yeah?" Beckett brightened. "We should start a club."

"Indeed," T'Lyn replied, understanding this was an attempt at humour, even if it wasn't one she quite understood. The turbolift stopped at the next floor and D'Vana and Beckett led the way out, back into the rows upon rows of identical corridors.

T'Lyn was not sure how she would ever orient herself on this ship. Federation ships were all the same; their halls were the same, their decks were the same, their bridges were the same. On the Sh'vhal, there had been numbers on every floor, and the layout of each had been slightly different. It had taken her only a matter of days to grow accustomed to it. On the Cerritos, as she explored yet another deck that looked identical to the five preceding it, she did not know how she would ever find her way.

They were on deck four, past the second holodeck, when they came upon a small enclave in the ship. There were two large viewing windows on either side, giving a view of the stars outside, and between them there was a Starfleet insignia carved into the wall. They approached the windows, looking outside for a moment.

"Beautiful, huh?" D'Vana said, beaming.

"The aesthetics are pleasing," T'Lyn concurred. She stopped at the Starfleet insignia and ran her fingers over it, curiously. Underneath it was an engraving, four words written in the Standard script of Earth but not in any language she recognised. She read it over again. "What does this say?"

"It's the old Starfleet motto," Beckett said, smiling fondly at it. "Ad astra per aspera."

T'Lyn blinked. The words meant nothing to her. "What does it mean?"

"You don't know Latin?" Beckett laughed, nudging her in the side.

"There were not many opportunities to study Latin at the Vulcan Science Academy," T'Lyn deadpanned.

"It means 'through hardship, to the stars,'" D'Vana said, coming to stand beside them. "It came from an old Earth spacefaring agency, right, Mariner?"

"Something like that," Mariner said, shrugging. "I didn't really pay much attention to that stuff in the Academy."

"Through hardship, to the stars," T'Lyn repeated, trying to make sense of it. She did not understand the sentiment behind it, but it must have been important to the humans, to the early founders of Starfleet, to carve these words into their ships and swear by them in their lives. Perhaps, she thought, in her time working for Starfleet, she would come to understand them. For now, though, she wondered.

She looked to the stars, as though they held all the answers, but there was just the blackness of space staring back at her. She pressed her lips together and tore her gaze away, looking to D'Vana and Beckett, who were joshing around.

"Is there a meditation space aboard this vessel?" She asked, the question occurring to her again. D'Vana looked up at her.

"I think so," D'Vana said. "We have a couple of Vulcans on board!"

"It's this way," Beckett said, taking the lead again. "I'll show you. It's on deck two."

T'Lyn inclined her head and followed, taking careful, deliberate steps. They stepped into the turbolift and went two floors up, where Beckett led them to an unassuming door a third of the way down the hall. She stopped at it, and looked to T'Lyn.

"I take it this is the meditation space," T'Lyn said. "I would like to go inside."

"Of course," D'Vana said. "We'll wait out here."

T'Lyn gave them each a nod and stepped inside. It was dimly lit, most of the light coming from candles, many of which were currently extinguished. There were six mats laid out on the floor, and T'Lyn stepped over them, looking around the room curiously. There was a holder, for burning incense, and small parchments with the writings of Surak on the walls. She had almost expected this to be a nondenominational space, but it appeared to be geared towards solely Vulcans, and for this T'Lyn found herself grateful. It was like finding a piece of home within the hustle and bustle of the starship.

T'Lyn breathed deep, smelling the lingering scents of the candles and incense, and felt a small smile grace her lips. In between her transfer from the Sh'vhal to Starfleet, she had stopped home on Vulcan to see her mother, and it had reignited in her the strangest emotions. She shied away from them, but she was feeling some approximation of what a human might call homesick. She longed for the crimson sunsets and the orange sand, for the shimmering cities and the staunch buildings, for places designed around logic and functionality. Nothing she had so far seen of the Cerritos had indicated it had been designed with either logic or functionality in mind, but this space, this Vulcan meditation room…it was somewhere she thought she would be frequenting often.

It offered her solace.

"The meditation space meets the requirements," she said, stepping outside to where D'Vana and Beckett were waiting. D'Vana brightened at her remark, though she did not mean it as a positive statement, merely a statement of fact.

"Where do you want to go next?" D'Vana asked. "We could head down to Engineering, and introduce you to Rutherford!"

"Pass," Beckett said, sounding bored. "She's not interested in Engineering, Tendi."

T'Lyn was not particularly invested in Engineering, that was true. She understood the basic functions of the warp core, and the many components that made it up, but she did not have a particular affinity for engineering the way she had for programming or the sciences.

However, D'Vana seemed to want to go to Engineering, and T'Lyn found herself wanting to make a good impression on the overeager Orion, so she said, "I am not averse to seeing Engineering. Who is Rutherford?"

"He's in the next bunk over from yours," D'Vana explained as they made their way back to the turbolift. "He's great!"

"Tendi has a crush on him," Beckett teased, nudging D'Vana in the side. Her green cheeks tinged a few shades darker and she shook her head vehemently.

"I do not, Mariner! Rutherford is our friend."

"Uh huh," Beckett said, apparently ignoring how uncomfortable she was making D'Vana, whose blush had only deepened. "What about you, T'Lyn? You got a man back on Vulcan?"

"I am betrothed," T'Lyn replied. "As is custom. He will make an adequate partner."

"Do you like him?" D'Vana asked, looking over curiously.

T'Lyn hesitated, and then said, "I prefer the company of women."

"Oh," D'Vana said. "Well, surely-"

"You can dissolve the betrothal, right?" Beckett interrupted.

"It is a matter for another time," T'Lyn replied.

Neither Beckett or D'Vana looked particularly comfortable with this, but both chose to refrain from making any insensitive remarks regarding Vulcan culture. T'Lyn found herself oddly grateful for this; it was not a matter she particularly ever discussed at length. She was betrothed as was customary of Vulcan children, and as she had grown into an adult she had come to some realisations about herself. It did not make her any less betrothed, or any less customary of her culture, and it was something she felt she would deal with when the time came.

She was not due to be married for another ten years. And there was no way to know what would happen in that time; it was not unheard of for people to meet their t'hy'la in that time, and the dissolution of the arrangement would be made automatically.

T'Lyn had decided many years ago that it was a problem for another time.

"Let's go see Rutherford," Beckett said, leading them past a set of double doors and to the next turbolift. She stopped just before the lift, pointing to a map of the ship that was mounted on the wall.

"We're here," she said, touching a section of the map towards the top. She moved her finger down the decks, tapping the map. "Rutherford's here. And our bunks are here, on deck eleven."

Her finger moved again, highlighting a section of map. T'Lyn squinted at it, making a mental note of the location of deck eleven, and of the deck the meditation room was on. She knew she would be consulting the maps often, and was glad when she noticed another copy of the map on the next floor they got off on. They walked into the depths of the ship, and T'Lyn found herself face-to-face with the warp core.

It was nothing special; it was not unlike any other warp engine she had seen. It illuminated the room with a dim blue light, and emitted a soft humming sound that seemed to permeate throughout the ship, but was strongest here, in the engine room. T'Lyn tore her eyes away from the warp core, dismissing it entirely as being of little interest.

There were a few yellow-shirted engineers milling about, consulting their PADDS and talking to each other. One looked up at them approaching, a grin splitting his face, and waved exuberantly at them.

"Tendi! Mariner! Over here!" He called out to them. D'Vana bounced on her heels again and quickened her pace, hi-fiving him in greeting, while Beckett hung back a little, a knowing smirk on her face.

"This is T'Lyn," D'Vana was saying, and T'Lyn blinked, returning her focus to the others in front of her.

"Hiya, T'Lyn! I'm Rutherford!" He held out his hand to her, like he expected her to shake it. She stared at it for a few moments, hands clenched in front of her.

"Sam," Beckett whispered. "Vulcans don't touch."

"Oh! Okey dokey!" Rutherford withdrew his hand as quickly as he offered it, giving her a jaunty wave instead. "It's nice to meet you."

"Likewise," T'Lyn found herself saying, tilting her head. She had not ever met a cyborg before. Starfleet was already exposing her to new things, broadening her horizons as her father had wanted. He was insistent she would fit in here, but looking at the others, she was not sure that was true.

"Rutherford!" A tall, slender man with facial hair called out from across the room. "Back to work!"

"Sorry, guys," Rutherford said apologetically, hyperspanner in hand. "You heard the boss."

"We'll catch you later," Beckett said, nudging D'Vana along. The Orion gave Rutherford a sad wave and continued on her way out of the engineering bay. T'Lyn followed, giving Rutherford a single nod as she left.

"Where to next?" D'Vana said thoughtfully, stopping to examine the map by the turbolift. "We've covered just about everything."

T'Lyn thought that they had covered a lot, but perhaps not everything.

"Where are the showers?" She asked, looking to the other women.

"Duh, Tendi! Of course!" D'Vana smacked herself on the forehead. "I can't believe that slipped my mind. Follow me!"

They got on the turbolift and went back to deck eleven, walking past the corridors of bunks and to an otherwise empty corridor. There was a room labelled SHOWERS, and one that D'Vana informed her was the bathroom. T'Lyn stepped inside the showers and looked around; there were row after row of sonic showerheads, but no stalls, no privacy. It was very different to the layout of the Sh'vhal's showers, but something, she thought, she would grow accustomed to.

The next stop was the laundry room, which was familiar to her, laid out the way the Sh'vhal's was. T'Lyn looked around, nodded, and followed D'Vana and Beckett out and back to the turbolifts, passing by maintenance hatches and enclaves in the ship. On the lift, Beckett said, "Deck six," and on deck six T'Lyn was introduced to the transporter room and the armoury.

She had not been assessed for combat, in her weeks on the space station; the prevailing opinion seemed to be that those in the sciences did not need it. However, she was adept at Suus Mahna, and well-practiced at that. She had been in training since she was quite small. It was likely she was out of practice now, though – she had not kept up with it since being transferred off the Sh'vhal, and she had yet to encounter anyone to spar with on the Cerritos. Perhaps, she thought idly, she could ask another of the ship's Vulcan crewmembers if they would be interested in sparring with her.

"Hello, T'Lyn? Earth to T'Lyn," Beckett was saying, and T'Lyn blinked, startled out of her reverie.

"I apologise," T'Lyn said, looking between the two women. "I was distracted."

"That's alright," D'Vana said with a grin. "Beckett was just saying the tour was about over, if you wanted to head back to deck eleven or do something else?"

"I would like to meditate," The Vulcan replied.

"Sure," Beckett said with a shrug of her shoulders. "Suits me. You remember how to get there?"

"Yes," T'Lyn inclined her head. "Thank you for the tour. It was…enlightening."

"We'll see you later!" D'Vana exclaimed as she and Beckett walked away. T'Lyn watched them go, wondering what they were doing with their free time. The Cerritos wasn't due to warp for another hour, by her count, so they could be heading down to the station to use the last of their free time; that seemed likely, she thought, though an hour was not much time in the grand scheme of things.

T'Lyn entered the turbolift and looked around, having not observed it closely in all the times D'Vana and Beckett had dragged her in there. It was not unlike the lifts on the Sh'vhal; a turbolift was a turbolift, she reasoned.

"Deck two," she said, and the lift started moving, carrying her up several floors. She stepped off and made her way down to the meditation room, the doors opening for her almost silently. Inside, the lights were low, but the candles were lit and dripping wax down their sides. T'Lyn walked over to them and lifted a candle from the precipice, setting it down in front of the centremost mat in the front row of the room. She dropped to her knees and kneeled in front of it, sitting back on her heels, the top of her feet flat against the floor. She stared into the flame until she felt her mind start to clear, and when she was sure she could not clear it any further, she closed her eyes.

Inside, her mind was empty. Her thoughts were, it felt, in neat little boxes, stacked away where she could not find them; her feelings drifted somewhere above her, over her, through her, but never settling around her or inside her. There was anxiety about being on a new ship; there was fear she would not fit in; there was that strange lonely feeling that came from being the only Vulcan amongst humans. She dismissed that last one; she was not the only Vulcan on the Cerritos, and she was sure she could make the acquaintance of some of the other Vulcans, even if only to have someone to practice Suus Mahna with. She wasn't here to make friends.

The feeling she could not shake, however, was a strange sense of longing for her homeworld, for her family. It would, she was sure, fade in time, so she dismissed it too, and returned to the calm place in-between thoughts and feelings. There was nothing there, no words or emotion, just a practiced sense of zen.

T'Lyn waited for this tranquillity to settle inside her, and then opened her eyes, taking a deep breath. She held it in her lungs, letting the oxygen flood her bloodstream, and then released it, exhaling slowly. She turned her head from side to side, stretching out her neck, bending it forward until her chin touched her chest, leaning it back and leaving her pale neck exposed. Her uniform collar had ridden up again, and mindlessly she tugged it back down, until it was flush with her skin.

She rocked back on her heels and got to her feet in one fluid movement, reaching down and lifting the candle so it was cupped in her hands on its little ornate girandole. It was coloured a deep gold, and it reflected the light, the carvings in it dancing with each flicker. T'Lyn placed it back on the smooth wood and leaned forward, pursing her lips and blowing it out softly. Satisfied, she breathed in the scent of extinguished flame, and straightened, taking one last look around the room before she bid it farewell for the evening.

There was a slight shift in the vibration beneath her feet, and T'Lyn looked up, disconcerted. She realised they must have gone to warp; she did not think she had been meditating that long. She lengthened her stride, walking back to the turbolift and requesting it take her to deck eleven, where she made her way down the many identical rows until she found her bunk once more. D'Vana and Beckett were nowhere to be seen, and she didn't recognise anyone else around her. They made no moves to introduce themselves, largely engrossed in their PADDs or otherwise talking with each other, so with that thought T'Lyn quietly changed into a loose-fitting tunic and got ready for bed.

It was early, but she had to report to Sickbay at 08:00 hours in the morning, so she settled in to rest, and, calmed by her meditative state, she slipped into a dreamless sleep.

After a complete rest cycle, T'Lyn awoke, eyes adjusting to the dim light of the lower decks. Everyone else seemed to still be asleep, so she rolled over, exhaling slowly and staring out across the corridor. She picked up her PADD and checked the time – still two hours until her shift began. With a slow exhale, she pulled back the covers and swung her legs out of bed. In the dark, she made her way down to the showers, uniform tucked under one arm.

After a quick blast from the sonic showerhead, she dressed quietly, doing up her collar and adjusting it in the mirror set along the shower wall. Her pants slid on easily, and she settled the waistband just above her hips, tugging her shirt down over it. She looked at her reflection a moment, before setting her headband over her hair, adjusting it so the length of it was off her face. She smoothed down her bangs, turning her head from side to side, and satisfied with her appearance, she decided she would go and get breakfast before the mess was crowded with the early morning rush.

In the mess, T'Lyn made her way to the replicators, requesting a small bowl of fruit and a cup of Vulcan tea. She took a seat at the nearest table and ate breakfast in silence, watching as her shipmates trailed in slowly as the morning progressed. Most made a beeline for the replicators to beg for coffee, while others still greeted their friends with stiff claps on the back and laughter in their eyes. T'Lyn took a sip of her tea and watched as a few people from her corridor wandered in – nobody she knew by name. The Orion and human women were nowhere to be seen.

She supposed she must look lonely, sitting alone and drinking her tea, spearing fruit with her fork and bringing it to her mouth, but truthfully she relished the solitude in these early hours. She was eager to start her day, settle into the rhythm of work and learn the ins and outs of Sciences in Starfleet. It wasn't like she was unused to solitude – on the Sh'vhal she had never exactly been popular. Vulcan culture claimed to be above such concepts, but T'Lyn knew firsthand how insular Vulcan groupings could be, and she had always been on the outside. It hadn't bothered her. It didn't bother her now.

She finished her tea with a final swig and picked the cup and bowl up, taking it over to be disposed of. She walked out just as the crowd of people walking in increased substantially, and she searched the crowd, looking for familiar faces. She thought she spotted the cyborg – Rutherford? - and the other human male – Boimler? – towards the back of the line, but they were shuffling forward, both half-asleep as they waited for their turn to acquire caffeine and sustenance.

T'Lyn returned to her bunk to grab her PADD and check one last time before she started her shift. There was a message notification and she still had twenty minutes before she had to be in Sickbay, so she stopped, leaning against the bunk and swiping it open.

It was from her father.

I hope you have a good first day in Starfleet. Live long and prosper.

The corners of T'Lyn's mouth twitched upwards, not quite into a smile. She tucked the PADD under her arm and started making her way down to Sickbay, resolving to reply to the message later. It was unlike her father to show sentimentality, but she appreciated it in this moment. It had bolstered her spirit somewhat, given her the confidence she needed to take on her first assignment.

She was going to have a good first day in Starfleet.

In Sickbay, there were a few people milling about, mostly focused on their tasks and the early-morning gossip afforded to each other. A few of them, T'Lyn noticed, stopped what they were doing to glance up at her, but after a few moments of silent curiosity they continued on their way, returning to the work.

T'Lyn stopped in front of Nurse Westlake and stood straight and tall, or as tall as she could muster herself up to be, anyway. Westlake glanced at his PADD while taking a contemplative sip of his coffee and said, "Wait here."

The Vulcan did as she was told, turning her head to look across Sickbay. It was devoid of patients, devoid of anything really but empty biobeds and instrument trays. Most of the others seemed to be cleaning, a task T'Lyn did not mind, though privately she was hoping for something a little more stimulating.

"Vulcan," T'Ana appeared, looking both exhausted and bored, the tip of her tail twitching. "Program the tricorders in storage and go around checking the parameters on the biobeds."

"Yes doctor," T'Lyn said. "Is there anything else you require?"

T'Ana huffed a laugh. "Start with the tricorders," she said.

"Yes, doctor." T'Lyn made her way to the storage closet Nurse Westlake directed her towards, pulling out a storage crate of neatly arranged tricorders. There were eight in each crate, nestled in the bottom, and there were twelve crates along one wall of the storage room, six in each row. The top two rows were lined with what appeared to be old-fashioned medical equipment, the sort of things T'Lyn had only seen in textbooks. She made a mental note to investigate further when she had the time.

Programming the tricorders was easy, once T'Lyn had gotten into the rhythm of it. She would start each one up, check its status, sync it to the PADD, input the programming, and then return it into the box, safely tucked away and loaded with the latest data from Starfleet Medical. The tricorders had to be updated every so often, with the discovery of new diseases across the Federation, and though there was some degree of automation to it, it still had to be manually added to the system.

It had barely been an hour when T'Lyn placed the last tricorder into its crate and slid it back onto the shelf. She checked the time on her PADD, exhaled softly, and got to her feet, taking a few steps out into Sickbay.

It was a little more chaotic this time around, with a few patients in beds, mostly nursing superficial burns and grazes. T'Ana was in her office, ears flat against her head as she spoke to somebody inside. The nurses were walking around with dermal regenerators, talking in soothing tones, and T'Lyn tilted her head, because certainly when injured she had never wanted to be soothed. Still, she had been given her tasks, and there were empty biobeds, so diligently she made her way over to them and started checking their parameters – that they were measuring things like temperature and heartrate correctly, that they would still respond with alarm when those things strayed out of their normal ranges.

As each patient was discharged, she checked those biobeds, too, and stopped short only when one bed did not respond as it should. She checked it again, to be certain, believing in the logic of doing things thoroughly, so they may be done correctly. When it made the same error twice, she got to her knees, pulling away the control panel and digging around in the wiring inside. Unable to locate the problem, she synced it to her PADD and ran a full diagnostic.

"There you are," she murmured, finding the error, but before she had a chance to begin repairing it, she was interrupted by T'Ana.

"What are you doing?" T'Ana demanded, tail flicking back and forth, one ear pinned back. T'Lyn looked up from her PADD at the ornery doctor.

"This bed is functioning outside of normal parameters," T'Lyn said. "I have run a full diagnostic and am about to repair it."

T'Ana took a thoughtful sip from the cup in her hand. "That's not what you were told to do."

"If something is broken, it is logical to repair it in the most timely manner possible. I know how to fix this. I did not see the point in alerting Nurse Westlake when I could make the adjustment myself."

T'Ana's eyes squinted, and her mouth twitched into what was almost a smile. "Nice initiative, kid. Go get yourself something from the replicator in my office when you're done."

T'Lyn put her head down and returned to the repair. It took only a matter of minutes, and when she was done she replaced the control panel and got to her feet, PADD close to her chest. She stepped inside the doctor's office, glancing around at the anatomical décor before making her way to the replicator. She asked it for a cup of Vulcan tea, hot, and was standing out in Sickbay sipping at it when T'Ana found her again.

"I need you to prep the hyposprays," she ordered, gesturing across the room. T'Lyn followed her gaze to where a myriad of hyposprays were stored. "Just do me ten analgesic and ten antibiotic. Those chucklefucks down in Security were sparring on the holodeck with the safety protocols turned off again."

"Yes, doctor," T'Lyn said, making her way across the room. She set her tea down beside her, picking it up to sip from it occasionally as she prepped each hypospray with its respective medicine. Dosage would have to be calculated by the doctor – different species reacted to different medications in vastly different ways. It was one thing T'Lyn had learned from her single xenoanatomy class at the Vulcan Science Academy. It had interested her, but she had no desire to devote her life to it.

A few crewmen in yellow shirts trailed in, nursing deep wounds. T'Ana stalked around, barking orders and hissing demands, and when one particularly tall Bajoran walked in with a black eye and a head wound she stood with her hands on her hips and proceeded to absolutely ream him in front of the whole of Sickbay.

T'Lyn straightened as Rutherford walked through the doors of Sickbay, a little unsteady on his feet.

"Uh," he called out uncertainly, "Can I please get a doctor over here?"

T'Ana pointed to T'Lyn and jerked her thumb towards him, gathering supplies. The Vulcan stopped what she was doing and stepped out from behind the autoclave, walking towards Rutherford. She guided him to a bed, noting the way he was clutching his arm to his chest, and stayed quiet, awaiting her orders from Dr T'Ana.

"What seems to be the trouble?" T'Ana marched towards them, a menacing look on her face. Her ears were flattened and her pupils were in thin slits, her stubby tail twitching from side to side.

"It's my arm," Rutherford said, holding up his left arm. "My implant says it's broken."

T'Ana just barely managed not to roll her eyes, grabbing his wrist and straightening his arm. He flinched at the movement, but allowed her to wave her tricorder over it.

"Yeah, that's broke alright," she said, turning away for a moment. "T'Lyn, prep him for the osteogenesis regenerator."

T'Lyn guided the portable machine to the biobed and began setting the parameters for human bone into it. She guided Rutherford's arm in, hesitating only a little when he flinched, and set it down inside the machine.

"Is this gonna hurt?" Rutherford looked up to her with widened eyes.

"I am unsure," T'Lyn said, running a preliminary scan to determine the necessary bone growth. "Pain is a state of mind. With control over your emotion, it should be irrelevant."

"Wow," Rutherford chuckled, his face pale, "You've got worse bedside manner than I had!"

"No one has worse bedside manner than you, ensign," T'Ana said, stepping in to check what T'Lyn had entered into the machine. She made a minor adjustment, checked his arm was palm-down, and then pressed a button. The machine let off a faint humming sound as it began the arduous process of knitting bone back together.

"Stay still," she warned him, checking something on her PADD. "T'Lyn, keep an eye on him."

"Yes, doctor," T'Lyn replied. She took a seat beside his bed, crossing her ankles and resting her hands in her lap.

Rutherford groaned, resisting the urge to squirm as a stinging sensation ran up and down his arm. He swore, closing his eyes in pain, brow furrowed. T'Lyn thought she saw the glint of tears at the corner of his eyes.

"Do you require an analgesic?" She asked him. He shook his head, breathing out through his nose in a huff. She considered him, and then asked herself what D'Vana would do. Talk with him, she reasoned.

But about what?

"How did you break your arm?" T'Lyn asked, still sitting ramrod straight in the chair. Rutherford cracked open his good eye and squinted at her.

"Fell down a Jefferies tube," he said. "I was on the rungs and my foot just gave out underneath me. I fell probably two decks."

"There is a high probability these injuries could have been worse than they are," T'Lyn remarked.

"Guess I'm lucky, huh?" Rutherford grinned at her.

"Indeed," she replied. Luck had little to do with it, but humans believed in the concept so readily, always carrying with them trinkets and talismans that were said to ward off danger and bad luck. T'Lyn had seen some of it on the space station, human pilots who carried with them pressed four-leaf clovers and something they called a rabbit's foot. It had been an uncomfortable topic for her, so she shied away from it, keeping to herself as much as she could. She had only needed to wait there a small number of days before the Cerritos had docked and her assignment had been confirmed. It had been no trouble.

Rutherford groaned again, bringing his hand up to his forehead. She saw his fingers trail across his implant for a moment, like he was going to adjust it, but he thought better of it and brought his good hand down to rest on the bed. T'Lyn checked the regenerator to see how it was going. It read forty-seven percent in neat little numbers on its display, so she leaned back, satisfied it was doing its job.

"Okay, now it's stopped hurting, it kinda tickles," Rutherford said a few minutes later. He flexed the fingers in his good hand, and looked like he wanted to do the same with the hand inside the regenerator, but he seemed to remember T'Ana's stark warning to stay still at the last moment and stopped himself.

"You will feel a range of discomfort throughout the process," T'Lyn stated. He looked up at her in surprise.

"Now see, that's the kinda thing I wanted to know when I asked if it was gonna hurt, T'Lyn," he remarked, shaking his head. He offered a smile, though, and seemed to hold no ill will about it.

"I will endeavour to do better next time," she replied.

"Let's hope there's not a next time," Rutherford laughed. T'Lyn, after a moment, nodded her head in return.

The machine beeped once, and T'Lyn leaned over to check it again. It had reached eighty percent, which meant it was nearing the end of its cycle. T'Lyn knew from the brief overview she'd gotten from Nurse Westlake that the regenerators were not perfect – if something was broken deeply or badly damaged, it could take multiple rounds of treatment until they could be considered fully healed. She hoped that would not be the case for Rutherford, however. It had been a clean break in the medial side of the ulna. It was painful, certainly, but not life threatening, and long gone were the days where surgical intervention was necessary for such things.

"I'm gonna have to report to Billups and tell him what happened," Rutherford groaned.

"I am sure Lieutenant Commander Billups will be understanding of your situation," T'Lyn replied, glancing from the osteogenesis regenerator's screen to Rutherford's worried face.

"Yeah, I guess you're right," Rutherford said. "I just didn't finish replacing the relays."

"The work can wait, I am sure," T'Lyn said. "First we must heal your arm. Then you may worry about relays."

"You know," Rutherford chuckled, "T'Ana may be right. Your bedside manner isn't as bad as mine."

T'Lyn's mouth quirked upwards. "I am told you were terrible."

"Does she still talk about it?" Rutherford said, meeting her gaze.

"She warned me not to be 'anywhere near as bad as that Engineering kid'," T'Lyn said. Rutherford groaned again, his cheeks flushing pink.

"I'm never gonna live that one down," he said. "Hey, T'Lyn?"

"Yes?" T'Lyn checked the regenerator again. It was sitting at just over ninety-five percent.

"Thanks for sticking around. You didn't have to."

"The doctor asked me to watch you," T'Lyn replied, leaning back. "I was simply doing my job."

Rutherford grinned at her, but before he could say anything else, Dr T'Ana appeared, stalking her way out of her office with a coffee in hand. She took a long sip when she reached them, setting the mug down on top of the osteogenesis regenerator and swallowing hard. She checked the numbers on the machine with a soft noise of consideration, pressed a couple of buttons, and stood back.

"Ensign T'Lyn, you may go," she said, picking up her mug and taking another sip from it. "Rutherford here will be out in about ten minutes."

"I am willing to stay," T'Lyn said, straightening, but T'Ana waved her off.

"Nah, head off," she said, squinting at the display. "Your shift finishes in a couple minutes, take the early mark."

Although T'Lyn did not want to, as T'Ana had phrased it, take an early mark, she could not deny that her stomach was rumbling and the thought of sitting in Sickbay much longer was making her skin crawl. She got to her feet, acknowledge Rutherford with a nod of the head and received a half-hearted wave in return, and gathered up her PADD and teacup from earlier. She disposed of the teacup on her way down the hallway, and made her way out to the turbolift, requesting it take her to the deck the mess hall was on. Once there, she stepped off and made her way over to the replicators, and she stood by it for a moment, debating what to get.

Eventually, in lilting Vulcan, she requested a favourite dish of hers, and was surprised when it appeared before her, exactly as she'd asked. There were some words in Federation Standard that did not meet the requirements that the Vulcan language provided; indeed, there were some words in Vulcan that could not be translated into Standard, not for want of trying on behalf of the many linguists over the years. Foods, for example, were difficult to translate. Plomeek was plomeek; there was no word for it on Earth, because plomeek did not exist on Earth. Likewise, with what T'Lyn had ordered herself now, there was no Earth word. The closest approximation would be mushroom, but even then, that would not be quite right.

T'Lyn sat down to enjoy her mushroom salad, though again, that was not quite what it was. It was a salad made of the dark leafy greens that grew in the dirt beneath bodies of water on Vulcan, a sort of a freshwater seaweed if you will, and cut up through it was a fungus that grew only on the trees outside ShiKahr in the coldest months of the year. The fungus had a sweet flavour to it, and the leaves were fresh and full of flavour, and drizzled over it was a vinaigrette of sorts. It was a favourite of T'Lyn's on Vulcan, and, it turned out, as she took her first bite, replicated was not unlike the real thing.

"Mind if we join you?" Came a voice, and T'Lyn looked up to see the Orion and human woman who had given her the tour staring back down at her. D'Vana and Beckett, that was it. She inclined her head, gesturing with her fork for them to take the opposite seats, and they did, with plates piled high with food.

"What is that?" T'Lyn found herself asking, tilting her head at D'Vana's plate. D'Vana grinned and held it out so T'Lyn could get a better look.

"They're called tacos," D'Vana said. "They're delicious. What are you having?"

"It is," T'Lyn started, and then stopped, wondering how to describe it in English. "A mushroom salad, of sorts."

"It looks great!" D'Vana exclaimed, taking a large bite of her taco. Beckett was twirling a piece of spaghetti around her fork and shovelling it into her mouth, not particularly paying either of them any mind, more focused on the food in front of her. T'Lyn could sympathise. It had been that kind of day.

"How was your meal with the captain?" She found herself asking, spearing a piece of fungus on her fork and bringing it to her mouth. Beckett looked up from her plate, slurping a piece of spaghetti into her mouth, chewed, and then swallowed.

"It was okay," she said, her mouth still half full. "Usual mom stuff, you know."

T'Lyn nodded, though she did not quite understand what Beckett meant by that.

Beckett and D'Vana fell into conversation with a practiced ease that came from months of friendship. T'Lyn observed quietly, taking furtive bites of her salad, as the two women gossiped about the goings on behind the scenes on a Federation starship.

Gossip was illogical. T'Lyn knew that, but she still couldn't help but lean in a little as Beckett regaled them with what Commander Ransom had really been using the holodeck for. It was nothing vulgar or even particularly wrong, but it would be incredibly embarrassing if it left this table, and T'Lyn reasoned with herself that it was logical to seek to know your superior officers better.

She decided she would continue joining Beckett and D'Vana for meals, if not for gossip, than at least for company.

The following weeks passed by in a blur of work. T'Lyn went on her first away mission, delivering medical supplies and programming new replicators for a colony in deep space. She meditated once a day, finding solace in the meditation room, and found herself sharing meals with D'Vana, Beckett and the boys, and taking part in late night conversations in the lower decks. She settled into a routine of sorts – breakfast alone, reporting to Sickbay, letting the day pass in a barrage of tasks before joining the lower deckers for a meal in the mess, and then while they enjoyed some recreational time she would go and meditate. They always made sure to say goodnight to her before bed, and oddly and illogically enough, T'Lyn found herself charmed by the humans, the Orion, and their ways.

It all passed by so quickly, she forgot entirely about replying to her father's message, and by the time she remembered she thought instead she would call him next time she had some time off. It would please her to see his face.

T'Lyn swallowed down the last of her tea and disposed of the mug, making her way to Sickbay. She wasn't sure what this day had in store for her, but she was, as always, ready and willing to rise to the challenge. She had learned a lot from working in Starfleet, and other species had a fascinating approach to all facets of life she had not considered before.

She considered the Orion approach to programming. D'Vana had shown her just a few nights beforehand. It had surprised her, the amount of shortcuts written into the code. She didn't know how a code held up by so little could still work, and yet, it functioned correctly, even with more expedience than the code she had created for herself. She stepped into Sickbay and made her way to the instrument trays, deciding she would order them before she was ordered to. D'Vana walked inside, yawning, and offered T'Lyn a wave, going over to the autoclave to check its status.

T'Ana was milling about, checking patient vitals and administering hyposprays, and T'Lyn honestly expected her to ignore the ensigns working their way around her when the Caitian's eyes fell on her.

"Ensign, you're on the bridge today," T'Ana said, looking up at the young Vulcan. T'Lyn blinked; this was unexpected, but not unwelcome. She nodded, and followed D'Vana out of Sickbay and to the turbolift. The Orion was babbling excitedly about bridge duty and senior science operations, and T'Lyn listened intently, trying to divulge as much information as possible.

"So we'll be on the science station," D'Vana said, grinning up at her. "I'll show you the ropes and then we'll see how you do!"

"That sounds adequate," T'Lyn replied, looking down at D'Vana. "I will endeavour to learn the controls."

"You'll get the hang of it in no time!" D'Vana said, stepping off the turbolift. In a moment, she changed drastically; the cheerful expression dropped from her face, replaced by an almost stern appearance. She stood straighter, walked with more purposeful steps. She nodded to Boimler and Beckett, inclined her head towards an Andorian woman that T'Lyn recognised from the photograph in Beckett's bunk, and then took her place at the science station. T'Lyn walked behind her, head held high, back straight, arms behind her back. She got to the science station and stood just to D'Vana's right.

The doors opened, and Captain Freeman stepped onto the bridge. At once, everyone was at attention. As Captain Freeman took her seat, the senior staff trailed in, taking their places on the bridge. T'Ana was the last to join them, her tail lashing back and forth. She gave T'Lyn a meaningful look and took her seat beside the captain.

T'Lyn swallowed, and returned her attention to the science station.

It was not unlike the station aboard the Sh'vhal, though instead of looping Vulcan script, the data was all laid out in neat Federation Standard. T'Lyn took a moment to read it through carefully. She had no issue with Standard, but it was not her first language; Vulcan would always be her mother tongue, so with that, she took extra care to ensure she was not making mistakes when extrapolating data.

"Here," D'Vana said, tapping one of the screens. T'Lyn leaned down to take a closer look. It was the readings from the nearest asteroid belt in this section of space. "What do you think that means?"

"There is an asteroid belt," T'Lyn remarked drily. D'Vana giggled and shook her head.

"Try again," she said. T'Lyn exhaled and looked closer at the readings, trying to make sense of it.

"There are raw materials in the asteroid," T'Lyn said. "Metals. They would be useful to a mining ship."

"Exactly!" D'Vana grinned up at her. "The Federation has a couple. So we'll relay that information to the captain, and she'll contact Starfleet to report it."

"I see," T'Lyn replied. This was not unlike what she had done on the Sh'vhal. "What else do we look for?"

"Oh, everything," D'Vana said, tapping a few things to send a notification to the captain regarding the raw materials. "We check for anomalies, strange energies, black holes."

T'Lyn inclined her head and viewed one of the screens. It was not difficult to make sense of the readings, once she had focused her mind to it.

"Here, try the controls," D'Vana said, getting up out of the chair and allowing T'Lyn to take her seat.

T'Lyn's hands wandered over the controls, familiarising herself with them. They were almost identical to those on her previous ship, and it awakened a strange feeling inside her, not unlike déjà vu. She manually inputted a long range scan and sat back, awaiting the results.

"Oh, cool," D'Vana said, leaning over to look at the screen. "Good job, T'Lyn."

"Ensign!" T'Ana called out, and T'Lyn and D'Vana both looked up. "Not you, Tendi. Vulcan. Come here."

T'Lyn got up and walked over to the doctor. "Doctor," she said calmly, taking her place at the doctor's side. "My name is T'Lyn."

"Yeah, yeah. I know that." T'Ana's tail lashed. "Stand here, pay attention, keep your mouth shut."

"Yes, doctor," she said.

T'Lyn stood to attention behind Dr T'Ana, watching the stars go by at warp. Captain Freeman was in her chair, bickering with Beckett, and Ensign Barnes was at the helm. Various officers were milling about the bridge, doing their duties diligently, when there was a sudden trill from the communications station.

"Captain," someone said. "We're receiving a distress signal."

"What does it say?" Captain Freeman sat at attention.

"The Vulcan ship Sh'vhal is being attacked by unknown assailants."

"Change course," Freeman ordered, and the Trill nodded, adjusting their course and speed. T'Lyn stared straight ahead, exhaling through her nose slowly. This was unusual, but not unheard of.

They dropped out of warp a scant few minutes later to find the Sh'vhal and a path of devastation left in her wake. There was no sign of the enemy ship or perhaps ships, based on the amount of debris floating through the vastness of space. T'Lyn straightened when she saw her former ship, taking in the damaged hull, the scorch marks, the missing pieces. She found herself hoping there had been no casualties.

"Hail them," Captain Freeman ordered.

"No response," was the quick reply.

Captain Freeman frowned. She scanned the bridge for a moment, and her eyes fell on T'Lyn.

"Ensign T'Lyn, what is the name of the captain of the Sh'vhal?"

"Senik," T'Lyn replied.

"Open a channel," Captain Freeman ordered. "Captain Senik, this is Captain Carol Freeman of the Starfleet ship Cerritos. Please respond."

There was no response.

"Captain Senik, please respond. Do you need aid? Do you have many injured?"

Silence filled the air. One could hear a pin drop.

Her frown deepened, and she turned back. "Scan for life signs."

"There are four hundred and seventy-three life signs on board."

T'Lyn's pulse quickened. That was far less than the number of the Sh'vhal's complement.

"T'Ana, ready an away team. Beam over and get as many of the survivors on board as you can. Take some of the comms officers with you and see if you can't get their communications back online. Once I'm with their captain I'll see what we can do about repairing the ship, or getting a message back to Vulcan for a rescue."

"On it," T'Ana replied, standing. "T'Lyn, with me."

"Yes, doctor," T'Lyn replied. She'd barely taken a step when the ship was rocked by a shockwave, and she watched, in horror, as the Sh'vhal exploded before her very eyes.

Everyone she had known was on that ship.

Her father was on that ship.

"Shit!" Beckett swore as they were thrown off-balance by the shockwave. T'Lyn stumbled, trying to steady her footing, as she watched the Sh'vhal disintegrate into millions of tiny pieces. She felt a pain, deep in her chest, and became aware of a high-pitched, keening sound. She realised, with a start, that the sound was coming from her mouth.