A/N: Huzzah! Another chapter of my latest fic! Once again, huge thanks to DrZevil for being an awesome guest star, and many thanks to Kretolus for his constant reviewing. Check out both their work, they do great stuff!


"Why is it," Jorel Quinn started as he took the offered seat, "that whenever you two get together I instantly feel a great swell of sorrow for most of the known galaxy?"

Lydana shrugged, leaning forward and digging into her Rokeg blood pie.

"No idea," she answered around the mouthful of food, "we're just here, innocently having lunch."

"That's what Quinn and I are doing," Zevil said as he cut into his Valixian Python steak. "I highly doubt you've done anything innocently a day in your life, my dear friend."

Lydana gasped in a show of feigned hurt.

"Xavius, you wound me! I'll have you know I am a paragon of innocence and purity!"

"There's a fountain in the New Romulus embassy that says otherwise," Quinn countered, bring a light blush to Lydana's cheeks.

"You don't play fair, Jorel," the Bajoran muttered, taking a swig of her firewine.

"When dealing with you, my dear Lydana, no one should play fair," Zevil commented after he swallowed the piece of meat. "Valix knows, you certainly won't."

Lydana thought for a moment, then shrugged.

"Well, you've got me there. What can I say? I like to keep people on their toes."

"As much as I'm enjoying your witty repartée," Quinn said with a smile, "I doubt this is why the both of you called me here."

"You're right." Zevil said, putting his cutlery down, his expression turning serious. "We need your help with something."

"It must be quite the conundrum if the two of you are asking for my help," Quinn stated, his eyes squinting in thought, "What is that you need my help with?"

"You hear that, Xavius?" Lydana asked, her tone light. "We ask an old friend for lunch, and suddenly he thinks he's special. We must be developing, as some would say, a Reputation."

"Goodness me!" Zevil said matching her tone, "I do hope it's a good one."

"I've created a pair of monsters," Quinn said wearily, before getting back to business and repeated his question.

"Okay, okay, enough teasing," Lydana answered, instantly becoming more serious. "There's an officer we believe is going to waste here, but we haven't been able to change her mind. That's why we wanted your help."

Quinn was quite for a few moments then he said "Lieutenant Pezhal."

Both looked at the older Trill shocked. "And here I thought I was the psychic at the table," Zevil said as he regained his composure.

"Lieutenant Pezhal," Lydana echoed in reply, leaning back in her chair. " She's got skill and drive, and we need her out there. What can we do to get her in the chair again?"

Quinn was quiet for a long moment, clearly in deep thought, when he finally spoke up. "You both know what she went through with her last command?" He asked, a tad needlessly considering who he was talking to.

"Yes," Zevil answered solemnly, "and we can understand why she doesn't want the chair, but we need the best out there in the field." Zevil leaned in and said in a low tone,

"You know what's coming, Jorel," he added ominously, shocking the pair of Admirals at their usually formal colleague's slip.

"I do, and as yet I see little reason to subject someone to fresh trauma over a problem we are already tackling." Jorel took a thoughtful sip of his coffee. "And believe me, if we send Pezhal against the Borg again, the resulting trauma would likely tear her apart."

"With respect, that's bullshit," Lydana said firmly, bolting upright again. "You know damn well what I went through against the Tal Shiar, and yet when I faced them again I didn't buckle. Lieutenant Pezhal has had plenty of time for counselling - it's time she faced her fears head on."

"Lydana's right, sir," Zevil said, regaining his formality, "I can tell from one meeting with the woman that she is formidable, even if she herself doesn't realize it at this moment."

Quinn sipped his coffee again, remaining quiet for a moment before speaking again.

"And exactly what do you think I can do, that you two can't?"

"Well, considering we're sitting with one of your success stories," Zevil said slowly, nonchalantly nodding in Lydana's direction, "We thought you might...what's that human term, 'pull a rabbit out of a hat'?"

"Lydana's success is nothing to do with me," Quinn argued, sipping his drink again. "Not since she was...'acquired' by Intelligence. And I still don't see how I'm supposed to help."

Lydana leaned in conspiratorially.

"You're the head of fleet operations, for pretty much the entire sector. You can reassign her as you see fit, or even...leverage some weight against her to, ah, 'persuade' her."

"You're right I do have the power to do that," Quinn said calmly as he carefully put down his mug, before glaring at his two mentees, "however don't know how I feel about 'persuading' someone who is still processing her grief."

"But she's not processing her grief, she's wallowing in it," Zevil said firmly. "I could feel the self loathing coming off her from a mile away, as I'm sure anyone with even the smallest amount of psychic power did as well." Zevil sat up straight in his seat. "The soft approach has failed, sir."

Quinn was silent as he thought about what Zevil had said, and Lydana seized the opportunity.

"The bottom line is this - we need exceptional captains, and given her record, we know she's just that," she stated. "You need to take the hard line and put her back in active service. She'll fight you, but give her control over her command staff and she'll come around. Not immediately, but she will."

Quinn set his mug aside, glancing at his former protegé.

"If I had known what an unholy terror you would become, I would never have sent you off to Intelligence, Lydana."

The Bajoran smiled at him innocently.

"It was never your choice, Jorel."


With a ship as large as the Endeavour class requiring so much work, Azhasca's teams were stretched thinner than ever. For that reason, she'd left operational coordination in the hands of Bobbi, and joined her crew in repairing the immense, modern vessel.

She had chosen to work on one of the fused dorsal phaser arrays, knowing that she could work on that on her own and free up two more officers to help elsewhere. So it was that she was stood on the underside of the Hades' hull, clad in her EV suit, cutter in hand, losing herself in the task.

And whenever she needed a break, all she had to do was lift her head a little.

From her position, when she looked ahead, she saw out across the rest of the hull, out into the starscape beyond. If she looked 'up', she saw more stars, the open bottom of the dock structure almost forming a cradle for the myriad galaxies she could see. It was beautifully serene, and she loved it.

Azhasca looked up from her work momentarily, and this time noticed another figure slowly advancing towards her. She paid them no heed, bending down again to focus on the task once again.

"Womers to Lieutenat Pezhal."

She sighed. It would have to be Womers. He'd probably been speaking to Bobbi…

"Go ahead Womers," she answered, with a lot more patience than she'd felt recently.

"Thought I'd give you an update," he told her, stopping the other side of the phaser array. "We've gone over the warp core, and all the diagnostics came back green," he explained. "I've got my team going over all the neighbouring systems, but Engineering seems clear."

Azhasca noted, not for the first time, that Womers shared something in common with herself - the fact that they changed when on the job. She was able to forget her past for a little while, and function as a normal person again, all the problems of ship repairs providing her with plenty of mental exercise. Womers, on the other hand, became more confident in himself and his ability - it was as if he wasn't sure how to function outside of his work environment, but inside of it he was firmly in control.

She liked that.

"Thanks for the update," she told him, still engrossed in her work. "You didn't need to come all the way out here to tell me, but good work all the same."

There was a moment of silence between them, during which Azhasca continued working. Awkward silences weren't usually a problem for her.

"I spoke to Lieutenant Lehar," he said suddenly, and she could tell by his tone that he hadn't intended to be so blunt. "She said...well, that I should...try and talk to you out here. About...well, that evening we...uh…"

She sighed, and turned off her cutter. She looked up, staring at Womers, and although distance and polarised visors prevented eye contact, she still imagined he was looking right at her.

"Womers...Elliot...I can't right now," she told him, shaking her head. "I'm...not in the best emotional state these days to be thinking about...things like that. That night was a mistake born of frustration, and I'm sorry I lead you to believe otherwise."

"I...listen ma'am, I know this might be out of line, but...we're a team here. You taught us that. Maybe...try and let us help you for once? Let me-"

"Elliot," she snapped. He went quiet instantly, although she heard him swallow hard over the commlink. She took a deep breath, changed her tone, and continued. "Elliot...believe me when I say I wouldn't want anyone else burdened with this," she told him calmly. "I like you Elliot. I think you're cute. But until I'm certain I'm not going to lose my fucking mind again, I'm not going to risk getting involved with anyone."

She started her cutter again and got back to work, ignoring Womers' sigh as she did. She heard him take a breath to speak again, but he was cut off by another comm signal.

"Control to Pezhal," Bobbi's voice called cheerfully in her ear, "incoming message for you."

"Tell them to piss off, I'm busy," Azhasca shot back, chuckling humourlessly.

"It's Admiral Quinn."

The Trill paused then. Admiral Quinn ran practically the whole sector. If he wanted something, it was best not to keep him waiting.

"Fuck it...alright, tell him I'm on my way."

She stood up, turned off her cutter, and told Womers that he was taking over, before heading for the nearest airlock.

Whatever Quinn wanted with her, she knew she wasn't going to like it.