Chapter Text
On a Sovereign-class vessel returning to the field of fire, Captain Raymer had just turned from ordering her second Hazlenut coffee at the replicator. As she peered down into the mug, to make sure it really was light on the cream, she smiled to herself. Appearing in her mind, her wife, Kahlee was looking over her shoulder and pulling back, ebony face cringed in disgust as she issued an audible shiver. ‘Eugh! Emily Raymer! I don’t know how you can stand the taste of that coffee! It looks like mud!’ She and her wife had never understood each other when it came to coffee. Kahlee made sure that hers were as milky as the Milky Way itself when all the lights were dimmed and he looked out into the vastness of space toward the unknown, unexplored center of their galaxy. The radiation levels at the galactic core was still too high for any deflector configuration to block out for even an instant. It had been calculated that it would take all of a Sovereign-class starship’s power to hold the radiation at bay for four-and-a-half seconds, and that was only theoretical. It did not take into account for the instant burnout to the emitters for the power whose load would rise far and above their tolerance rating. No known configuration had been but from simulation to circuitry. The captain shook her head from her musing, then pulled out the maroon chair in order to sit down and first have a look over the latest intelligence update on Dominion activity within the sector. Her eyes barely glanced over the marigold header when she was interrupted by a chirp of her combadge followed by the orotund voice of her first in command, Commander McKenna. “Sir, there is an urgent incoming message from Deep Space Nine.”
Deep Space Nine? The captain paused before she answered. They had just left the station a few hours ago. She then abruptly tapped her combadge. “Put it through, Commander.” Raymer swiveled to face the widescreen behind her, folding her hands while she waited for the blank, black monitor flicker to life with an image of her old acquaintance. The Destiny’s docking had been very brief, merely to exchange minor personnel and resupply before they were to be on their way to Sector 401, Orellius minor, along with the Discovery, the Sarasota, the Minvar, and the T’liss. It was there, they were scheduled for a two month deployment on the front lines. So, what could Captain Sisko want that was so urgent?
Presently, her pupils contracted as the screen suddenly flickered on, revealing an image of a broad-shouldered man with folded hands sitting with the Star Empire logo from the banner of the joint Klingon-Romulan-Federation Alliance poking out from behind the head rest of Ben’s chair, in the background. It was almost comical to see if it were not contrasted by an even stonier than usual look from his old friend. A frown tugged at the corners of Raymer’s lips, but she broke the momentary silence with one of her well-practiced warmth and ease. “Ben!” She smiled. “Didn’t expect to hear from you so soon.”
“Emily… I didn’t expect it myself. Good to speak with you again, nevertheless.” Sisko rumbled in a deceptively soft brontide greeting. For the benefit of those Benjamin knew well, he softened the smooth bass of his ‘captain’s voice’, but there was always a hint of a greater presence behind his words. A faint smile had graced Ben’s features, but it now faded. “I need a ship with Trill personnel on board to be at the station as soon as possible and the closest vessel is yours.”
Raymer’s brow furrowed. She had her orders and, as far as she knew, they still stood. But if this was a medical or another matter of urgency… “We’re due to rendezvous with the Discovery at Orellius Minor.” She began, serving to remind her colleague of that importance, but kept it brief when she noted a flicker of agitation in Ben’s brow. Straight to the point. She steepled his index fingers. “What’s this about?”
“You’re going to be taking a symbiont back to Trill.” Ben’s reply was measure, but his tone had a measure of tightness to it. If Raymer did not know any better, it seemed a personal matter, but her immediate reaction was a slow nod of understanding.
Ah. She settled forward in her seat a little more. “I understand. We can be there within six hours.”
“Thank you, Emily.” No, Raymer was sure that she was not imagining it, now. Ben was not one for showing his cares easily, especially these days. Had they had time to catch up and Ben suggested a little game of poker, Emily would have flatly declined. But now the corners of the eyes of the erstwhile stone-faced captain softened in relief.
As delicately as she was able to, she put the weighty, yet expected, query to Ben quietly amid a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach. “Can I ask which symbiont?”
The Starfleet Captain and Emissary to the Prophets blinked back before answering. “The Dax symbiont…”
Jadzia Dax. His science officer. A brilliant mind and a promising officer. Raymer remembered how striking a woman Jadzia was when she first met her back in ’70 not just in looks, which of course, she had to tease Benjamin about, but in her carriage. She would have made a fine captain one day. Confident, intelligent, sharp-witted— Raymer had always heard good things and what she had saw confirmed all of it and more. It was a damn shame… a damn shame. Raymer could not mitigate the sudden tightness in her chest even if she wanted to try.
“My condolences on the loss of a fine officer, Ben.” Even with the care she took to place weight in her words, perhaps her reply could have been warmer, and it was warmer than most condolence offerings these days, but loss was everywhere now and many fine officers and brass had met their deaths in battle. Thirty-six under her command to-date.
Now the man before her paused, mask still in place, and the silence was seemingly stretched for more than its actual length of two heartbeats. Stretched and filled, to Raymer, however with the jutting reminder of how an individual should deserve all the grief they could give. And yet, duty prevented Ben from sharing in it with an old friend. At length, it then seemed, Ben responded again in a hushed rumble. “Thank you, old friend. Sisko out.”
As Raymer blinked away the fading afterimage of of Ben’s outline, her thoughts turned toward the station, five years ago. Images of their faces marched across her mind. Ben, fresh-faced with a toothy grin stepping aside to introduce his science officer, a tall woman in her late twenties. Jadzia’s lips were pursed in a gentle smirk she could not or did not quite with to retain. Raymer could never be sure whether it was one or another. But it was the eyes that were unforgettable, piercing in their frankly mischievous wisdom. It had been a good thing that Kahlee had not been with her or she would not have had an earful that evening at the way she had paused, captivated, as she slowly extended a hand in greeting. And the Trill’s wry look had told Emily that she knew and they were going to be fun… and like hell she would escape. She had known it too—knew she was instantly a fan and could not find fault with Dax’s brand of fun and games. The woman had an air of mystery around her and Emily marveled that with many faceted expressions, Dax still had aces a plenty up her sleeves. Quite literally, too, she had come to find out. Some past host had taken up sleight of hand. Was it Tobin? Torias? Torvin? Ah, Trill. She blinked forcefully. Despite how fascinating they were, the Joined were sometimes a headache to think about and their whole society was still one large mystery, albeit a seemingly benign one. They were a friendly and enlightened people, individuals similar in many ways to humans, but cautious and reclusive as a government…
Realizing that her thoughts had wandered and that she was staring blankly at the screen, frozen stiff in her chair, Raymer slapped her palms to her knees and swiftly rose from her chair to walk around the desk and exit the ready room to the main bridge. Commander McKenna rose from the command seat upon site. “Captain.” He nodded firmly.
“As you were, Commander.” Raymer belayed her first-in-command’s relief, and he nodded back fractionally while resuming the command seat. The captain turned to walk a few paces over to the helm, placing a hand lightly on the back of its seat as she looked out into the blank void of the view screen before her. “Ensign Bradley.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Set a new course for Deep Space Nine.” Raymer’s hand paused slightly before it altogether slid from the back of the seat as she turned around to walk away. “Warp Factor Eight.”
Without needing to look, she knew that a flicker of confusion passed and was gone in the blink of an eye over the majority of faces. A testament to humanoid nature. McKenna’s eyes snapped to his superior’s, watching her inquiringly as Bradley readily answered. “Aye sir, changing course.”
Halfway to her chair, Raymer tapped her combadge. “Doctor T’pek, please report to my ready room.” Now McKenna leaned forward a little more in his seat, hands lightly bracing either side of the arm rests, but his body tensed to move at a second’s notice.
“Acknowledged.” Came the Vulcan’s modulated bass over combadge as Raymer turned to McKenna and nodded at him before leaning slightly onto her left side to make a turn in the direction of her ready room to the aft of the bridge where the old conference room of the galaxy class used to be. Where there had been an intense curiosity, it was now gone in place of one of understanding at the silent communique. He was to join his captain in ten minutes. As soon as the doors had closed, Raymer tapped her badge once again. “Ensigns Tigan and Finnok, report to my ready room.”
Ten minutes later, McKenna calmly rose. Fitting his hands behind his back, he raised his chin. “Lieutenant Kedair, you have the bridge.” He ordered crisply, and without a second look for acknowledgement, he swiveled toward the ready room.