As we slip into the quieter frequencies of subspace, I lean back and relax into the almost meditative state where my mind sifts raw sound for the patterns of language. This is my place, my strength, doing what no one—not even Spock—can do better.
Through my chair, I feel the warp vibration, the soft thrum of the ship. I can't help that it reminds me of another soft thrum, a different heartbeat now as familiar as my own. I glance toward the station next to mine.
He is just as focused, blue light playing across his face: whole.