Commander Anacostia-Bolling stood looking out of the window of her ready room as the stars streaked past, the USS da Vinci was only doing warp 4; with the mission completed and having cleared Klingon territory, there wasn’t as much need to race around.  But was the mission really over?  The USS Stavanger was no more, and although it had been sent on a mission of destruction, in the hope of igniting a war between the Klingon Empire and the Federation; watching and being partly responsible for demise, had been hard.  She’d witnessed too many fine vessels meet a fiery end in battle during the course of this year.  Would 2402 prove any better?

Navaar Orci was still out there amongst the stars; free and able to plot more mayhem.  At least she no longer had a Federation ship to guide her pirate ships to their targets.  That part at least, was good news.  Two former Starfleet officers were dead because of her, though; both had once been brilliant men, but fate and circumstances had changed them.  She had taken advantage of that and moulded them into her loyal henchmen.

What to, of the unknown group of Romulan’s that had either aligned themselves with her, or merely used the ship to further their own ends?  Did they have other plans in place to destabilise the region?

The door gave a whistling chirp, bringing the Commander out of her thoughts; indicating someone wanted to gain access. “Enter.” She called from the other side of the room, without turning round.  It was Ensign Dravid, her Logistics Officer.  As usual he had a Padd with him.  She was starting to wonder if he slept with it: either cuddled to his chest or tucked under his pillow.  To be fair though, he was a miracle worker and all the Department Heads aboard ship had been more than happy with what he’d achieved in getting equipment and stocks they’d needed.  How he did it, he was yet to explain; she just hoped it wasn’t anything underhand or illegal.

“I’ve added the shuttle craft Viking to our inventory. ma’am.”  He announced, in his usual cheerful manner.  “How should I list the Norge?”

Norge was the name of the Stavanger’s other shuttle; the one she’d loaned to Chameleon.  Not that the Commander was ever expecting to get in back. “I don’t believe we have a shuttle by that name.” She replied tilting her head to one side.

Ensign Dravid looked puzzled for a moment, before realising what it was the Commander was indirectly telling him.  “I see ma’am, it was destroyed in the fighting.”

“That is how it would appear, Ensign.” Anacostia-Bolling nodded.

Happy that everything was in order, the young man made his exit.  Leaving Mary to her own thoughts and to gaze at the stars beyond the window.

**********

Tools lay scattered in a haphazard fan space around the half hidden body of an engineer.  Half hidden that is, because it was partly underneath the dented front end of a Type 6 shuttle craft.  A hand came down searching by touch alone, finding the required tool on the third attempt.

“Enjoying yourself under there?” Lieutenant-Commander Alara Ley asked the engineer.

“Oh, me. Just wonderful, absolutely wonderful.” Was the muffled reply, she received.  “This was a half descent craft despite its age, until the XO used it as a battering ram!”

“That bad?” Alara enquired.

“It’s now five centimetres shorter than spec and I can’t get the clamps to disengage.” The guy grumbled from underneath.  “If I can get the nose off, I can at least assess the damage inside.”

“Need a hand?” The Trill XO asked, not revealing who she was to him.

“Pass me the type 2 wrench.”

“What’s that look like?” Ley’s hosts had been many things, but none had ever worked in Engineering or done maintenance.

There was a pause, as if the engineer under the shuttle was running something through his mind. “You’re not part of the maintenance team are you?” He started to slide out slowly; first noting the nice clean boots, the black pants legs.  He was most of the way out before the red, indicating someone in command, came into his line of sight.  There weren’t all that many people it could be, only two of them female and one just the right height. “Ah yes, about what I just said.”

She held up her hand to stop him doing any further.  “That’s quite alright Chief Petty Officer Rockwell.  I did rather give it a whack.”  ‘But then you should see the other guy.’ Her symbiont added, but then the Chief would never hear that.

Rockwell located the tool he’d originally asked for, and shook it in his hand. “I’ll just keep at it.”

“You do that Chief.”  She tried her hardest to keep a straight face at the man’s clear discomfort, but once he’d ducked out of sight; had to smile.

The USS da Vinci now had four shuttle craft.  There was a Type 11 with the name Shirley which had been on the ships roster since 2378; after the previous craft of that name had been destroyed the year before.  A pair of Type 12’s with the name Mona Lisa and Isabella; and of cause now the much older; veteran Type 6 Viking.

Lieutenant-Commander Alara Ley continued on her tour of the ship; it was something she tried to do as often as possible.  It was her way of assessing the mood of the crew and how everything was going on board.

**********

For most of the officers and crew, everything was going well and the general mood was an upbeat, positive one.  They had been successful in thwarting a plot to start a war; not bad for a ships first mission with its current crew.  Though the majority did understand it wouldn’t always be this dramatic.

One individual was not feeling the joy and relief of a successfully concluded mission.  Right now Nurse Sarah Folland, didn’t feel much like celebrating anything, and her mind clearly wasn’t on the task at hand.

“You know that clamp won’t float its way over to me by itself.” Doctor Sunny’s words were soft, a little more calm than he could be at times.  He’s harshness was usually directed at those patients who’d done something rather stupid or hadn’t listened to previous advice.  To his staff, as small in number as they were; he was kind and sympathetic.

Right now he had his hands inside someone’s body, not exactly the best position for a heartfelt chat.  The body belonged to one of those found on the USS Stavanger.  The doctor was glad they’d been able to loud the bodies into the shuttles, even if that had made it a tight squeeze for all those involved.  This particular body was a male, in his late thirties from the look of him; malnourished, several broken bones and cracked ribs.  There was a dragon tattoo on his right shoulder and a small sun shaped one on the back of his right wrist.  The man had been washed and shaved sometime after death.  The cut under the chin and absence of blood indicated the later; were as he looked too clean for a miner, which is what Doctor Sunny believed this man had been, up until his death.

Nurse Folland handed him the clamp. “Sorry doc.” She replied apologetically.

Whilst modern scanning equipment could render real time three dimensional representations of complete bodies; Doctor Sunny still preferred the old hands on method of post-mortem examinations; which was why he’d physically sliced this individual open to look inside.

“You miss him, don’t you?” The doctor enquired, referring to Chameleon.

“Am I stupid to?” Folland pondered.  “A few days’ seems hardly enough time to form a connection.”

“And yet you have?” Sunny added

“I felt so safe, even when I thought I was going to die.” She sighed. “Does that make any sense?”

“In a way, it does.” The doctor continued with his examination at the same time.

“Everyone seems to see an assassin, spy, a tool, some sort of creature then.” Sarah intoned.  “There’s a person in there just like you and me.”

“May be your paths will cross again.” The doctor mussed.  “Space may be vast, but stranger things have happened.”

“By nature of being able to change form, how would I know? Folland asked.

“You won’t have changed.” Offered Sunny.

Sarah had tried to convince Chameleon to stay; but forming any sort of relationship with someone, despite the bond they’d developed wasn’t something on the cards; at least not for now.  There was something Chameleon desperately wanted to know, a question that had been on their mind for years; and it involved a search they felt they needed to take alone.

**********

A few days later:

A woman in her late thirties; with shoulder length auburn hair, framing a thin face with high cheekbones, thin nose and grey eyes, took a seat at the bar.  She adjusted the silvery grey jacket of the suit she was wearing, under which was a cream coloured blouse.  The bartender asked her what she was having and returned with the Brandy a moment later.

“I’m Alex, Alex Forbes.” The bartender introduced himself. “I don’t recall seeing you here before.”

“Susan Demin, but you can just call me Sue.” The woman smiled back. “I only arrived yesterday.”

“So Sue, what brings you to Elysium?”  He enquired, always happy to chat with new and old customers alike.

“I’m tracing my ancestors.” Sue informed him.

Alex was rather puzzled by that comment, it was clear this woman was human, so why was she out here on the fringe looking for long lost family members.  “Where are you planning on looking?”

“Rura Penthe.” She answered before taking a sip of Brandy and walking away from the now stunned man behind the bar.