Star Trek: Wings of the Renaissance

A Star Trek fanfiction by Andrew Joshua Talon

DISCLAIMER: This is a non-profit fan-based work of prose. Star Trek is the property of CBS and Paramount. Please support the official release.


Old Friends

Outpost 444, Valo II, Bajoran Sector

2370


The burning in his legs was... Refreshing, in an odd way. Of course, it wasn't difficult, taking a brisk jog about in the morning, but the routine of doing so each day was comforting.

He liked having a routine. Get up, shower, dress, exercise, report for duty. It gave his day structure, and that made his life feel a little easier.

He knew it was odd, but Lt. Zaravan wasn't as... Sociable as most, either. It was hard for him to speak, talking to others even in the squadron if it wasn't professional. He could shout orders, give instructions with ease, but when it came to shooting shit about the weather, he almost always found himself unable to mutter a word.

He quite hated it. He knew why, after all. If he talked, he'd get close to them, if he got close to them, they'd find out.

Find out why he was here.

And he couldn't even consider that as a possibility.

As such, he turned his thoughts to other matters, such as the base's architecture. They were quite sobering, as the base had stood since the days of legends like Captain Kirk and his crew.

They were gone, now. But from all the after mission reports he'd read about what they'd often stumbled into, things seemed so much... Simpler back then. No interstellar war, no Borg, no Cardassians... Just exploring through the cosmos.

What was that thing he once said?

'Second star to the right, and straight on till morning'.

Those days were gone now, just like the men who lived them.

He decided to go a little further today, off of the base. Taking a moment to breath, he slipped into the town through the base's main gate. There was no problem of course, as he had his commbadge on him like always. 'Rama Town', the locals called it.

Rama meant sand in Bajoran.

He refrained from commenting on that, as it was among the least offensive names the town was called.

Off duty as he was, he didn't draw too much attention as he made his way further among the crowds. Of course, he couldn't just do so without event, as he quickly spotted a Constable settling some dispute or another between two shopkeeps. The words he couldn't make out from this distance were quite heated, but it was clear the Constable had things well in hand. No need for him to get involved.

He had quite the respect for them. Outside the base, the Bajoran Constables were the only means of any law for the town, and they were strict where needed to keep people in line.

After a moment more of watching the dispute, he moved on, once again silently weaving through the throngs of Bajorans and some off-duty Starfleet personnel.

"Lieutenant Zaravan!"

"Bajin." He greeted politely as he turned to a familiar face. The old man in front of him had struck up a conversation with him one day, god knows why, and he'd somehow ended up repeatedly running into him.

To be honest, he didn't know what the elderly grandfather saw in him, sometimes.

"Come on, come on!" He was waving from a table at a cafe, the air warm and spicy with traditional Bajoran cooking. "You need food!"

"Bajin..." He sighed. They both knew that he could never refuse an offer of a free meal like that because he didn't want to be ungrateful. It's how he always managed to rope him into another conversation, without fail.

And again, without fail, he made his way over and sat down across from the old man. "The usual rations always keep me nourished, you know. You don't have to offer me food out of your own pocket."

"Hmph! Federation replicated slop," Bajin said, pounding his hand on the table.

He shook his head in good humor at that. Bajin had always made his stance on replicated food clear. Personally, he thought freshly made food was a luxury he didn't really deserve, but...

"The usual then, old man?" He said, giving the ghost of a smirk. It was the best effort of a smile anyone usually got out of him. For Bajin to do so meant a lot.

"You're too dependent on it. You need more fresh, natural food in your system," Bajin said, nodding decisively.

"Well, I can never argue with you on that." He acceded. "The Hasperat, then?"

He was definitely going to have to spend time on the john after this. It always hurt. A lot. But he could never refuse Bajin and thus, he tolerated the suffering it caused his colon.

The Hasperat was served, though much less eye watering than Zaravan was used to. It was also served with fried, crunchy Palukoo legs-Something the human found more appetizing.

While he had quite the hatred of arachnids, their flesh was absolutely delicious. So at least they had some redeeming factor there.

It took a lot of willpower not to chow down without a care, but he managed to restrain himself and not look like a total glutton. All too soon, his own meal was gone, and he couldn't help but feel quite satisfied afterwards.

"Well Bajin, I know you didn't just call me over to have a bite, wonderful as it always is." He lamented jokingly. "Despite the fact I'm not the best conversationalist."

"You Starfleeters are always paranoid about the wrong things," Bajin replied with a laugh. "I offer a meal, you suspect an ulterior motive. The Cardies offer a truce, you embrace it eagerly." He shook his head and sighed, before he began eating. "And who says we need to talk? We can eat. Sit here. Enjoy things."

Bajin bit down, loud crunches leaving his mouth as he eagerly devoured his Palukoo.

"Mhm. Strong. Right." He muttered quietly, thoughts turning to dark memories before he quickly shook them away. "Well, considering all the strange things that tends to happen to Federation ships, can you blame us for being a little paranoid? At least afford us that much, hm?" He chuckled humorlessly.

"Che. Half those things were probably your crews high off fumes," Bajin snorted. "No offense to Kirk-Great man, Kirk. But giant space creatures? Stealing someone's brain?"

"Kirk was... Many things." He grimaced. Being able to keep it in his pants was definitely the least of them. "But he wasn't a liar. Besides..." He sighed. "I saw a number of... Odd events on the Helmgart. Most were lethal. The attrition rate among Security and MACO was... Not envious."

"The Prophets were looking out for you, indeed," Bajin acknowledged gently. A slightly awkward silence fell, for the rest of the meal. It was time enough though that Bajin used a napkin to wipe his mouth and look across the table seriously.

"I wanted to tell you, Lieutenant… I'm moving back to Bajor."

His eyes slightly widened at that, looking back at him. "You're going back, after all this time?" He asked. "What made you want to go? It wasn't my manners, was it?" He joked slightly, though he did seem perturbed at him leaving. He'd gotten used to spending time with the old man.

Bajin laughed. "Not at all! But I want to live out my remaining years home. Show my grandchildren their inheritance. But the fact of the matter is, my deputies are…" He trailed off with a grimace.

"You don't have faith in them?" He raised a brow. "They seem to be able to keep a good hold on things here, but... I might not know as much as I should, Bajin."

Bajin snorted. "What makes you think I'd ask you to have anything to do with it?"

"...I don't. And I can't help if you can't tell me what you need." He says after a moment. "You know me by now, Bajin. I'll help you with whatever you need. Now what's going on?"

Bajin chuckled, shaking his head in a practiced motion. "I would like you to train our police force, when I'm gone," he said. "It will be good for them to learn how to enforce justice in the Starfleet way."

He frowned at that. "...You sure, Bajin? I'm more capable at training soldiers, not peacekeepers." He sighed. "I don't want people to get the wrong idea if they see a Military Officer training their police force."

"Well, unless Starfleet is willing to ship out some actual police officers, you're what we have. More than that… You care about what happens to us."

"...Alright. I'll do what I can, Bajin." He sighed, sitting up in his chair. "It's the least I can do for being so kind to me. I'll train them and, if I can, equip them with the best equipment I can procure for them."

Bajin nodded. "Thank you." He sipped some tea. "That you're saying that without talking to your commanding officer first means a lot."

Oh.

Bajin smirked. "Fortunately… I did," he said, with a sly glint in his eyes.

"You sly old dog." He chuckled mirthlessly. "Well, you have me now. Just tell me when to start the training, and I'll begin putting your deputies through the motions."


An extra bit for this story written with Zaravan.