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 <BOOKMARK:Chapter28>
 <fs x-large>**Chapter 28: The Closed Fist**</fs><wrap lo right>[[archives:do_no_harm#top|Top]]</wrap>\\ \\
+**Location: Main Bridge, deck 1, USS Republic**
+Kim Roth looked to the viewer with a grim satisfaction as she watched a spread of three photon torpedoes slam into the shields and defractive armor that protected the Dominion ship in battle. Zoe Beauvais had done her job well, and the torpedoes hit home. Unfortunately, Kim Roth hadn't counted on the fact that the Jem'Hadar onboard the remaining attack ship would be modulating their own shield frequencies to counter any tactical, or technical advantage that the Federation might have.
+The photon torpedoes hit home, but it wasn't enough, and in Republic's wounded condition, the cycling of the torpedo systems was slowed to a crawl. At this point, Roth wasn't sure how long it would take to get another shot, or if she'd even have the opportunity to fire again.
+"Tactical. Status of target?" Roth called out crisply.
+Zoe Beauvais checked her Tactical display and relayed its grim news. "Torpedoes hit, Captain, but damage to the attacker is...minimal. Their shields are at seventy-two percent. Armor unaffected."
+"Damn it." Roth hissed. If she could get through the shields, then the torpedoes themselves would make short work of the attack ship, but with the shields in place, that wasn't at all likely. The mood on the bridge was already tense enough when the turbo-lift to the bridge opened.
+As she looked around the chaos of the bridge, the turbo-lift at the back of the deck opened, revealing Shannon Harris, tending to the body of John Carter, who moaned and rolled over onto his back, revealing a sizable cut across his forehead.
+//"Sickbay to bridge!"// Saal Yezbeck's voice was over the intercom.
+"Bridge, Go." Roth answered, though she sounded very much in a hurry.
+//"Captain, we've got wounded filling up our beds quickly. We need Doctor Harris down here."//
+"Negative, doctor", she answered, looking toward the downed form of John Carter. As she might have expected, Shannon Harris had all ready "rezzed" into existence to tend to the ship's Executive Officer, though Roth had other concerns on her mind. "We've got damage reports coming in, and Harris is the best interface we have with the ship's computer right now. We need her talents up here for the moment. Roth out."
+Roth immediately looked to the ship's EMH/Pediatrician. "Doctor Harris? Is the XO all right?"
+Shannon finished running her medical tricorder over the gash in Carter's head and looked up. "He could use a dermal regenerator," she commented, "But yes, he should be fine."
+"Good." Roth said coolly. "I need you to synch to the computer and find out what's still working. Most of our interface panels are out of commission."
+Harris blinked. "I appreciate that ma'am, but shouldn't I... ?"
+"Now. Doctor. I have to know if the ship's going to go critical, or if we're leaking atmosphere, or god knows what!"
+Harris nodded, though she didn't like the thought of having to ignore patients. She could see that the welfare of the ship itself might well be paramount at the moment. "Aye, Ma'am."
+A moment later, she whisked out of existence, her consciousness now divided between understanding the ship's condition, and one particular patient in the arboretum.
+"Attacker, coming around again!" Beauvais called out from Tactical, as charged polaron bursts from the Jem'Hadar ship filled the main viewer.
+"Conn! Evasive! Zee plus twenty, Now!"
+\\
+\\
+\\
+**Location: Arboretum, deck 7, USS Republic**
+The Republic shook from the latest blow snuffing out the lights in the arboretum. It was a few seconds before the emergency lighting kicked in, casting the normally peaceful setting in a decidedly sinister light. The violent jarring motion sent Morganth to his knees.
+Near the main entrance to the arboretum, there was a faint whisking of photons as Shannon Harris looked around her environment. She'd tried to re-route herself to sickbay, despite the Captain's orders, and somehow ended up back down in the ship's green space. In the red, emergency lighting, she stood slowly and called out. "Hello! Is anyone here?"
+Morgath muttered unintelligibly. With the last blast he had hit his head and fallen down on all fours. As he realized what had happened, he struggled to his feet like a crazed man. In a calculated mad dash he carefully secured his plant. He didn't want the plant to be harmed; it was his child. It wasn't until things were secured that Talloc registered that someone had called out.
+Shannon saw the blur of motion as Morganth came out of the shadows in the reddened room. "Sure... there had to be someone down here. Wait... Morganth? What?" Shannon blinked again to make certain of what she was seeing. Morganth was a civilian, so that explained why she hadn't detected a comm. signal, but he should have been evacuated as soon as red alert sounded. "Morganth? What are you still doing down here?"
+Morgath started as he heard the pediatrician's voice pierce the red-bathed room. "I guess I did it again. I sometimes get so involved in my work that the outside world fades away . . . a strength or weakness of mine." He muttered something to himself about failed relationships because of the ability. It was evident that he still wasn't fully aware of the situation.
+Morganth Talloc was a civilian in every meaning of the word; he preferred time with his work and plants and had no desire to explore anything except what was in front of him. Shannon regarded the man with some skepticism. Even though the Ship's Counselor seemed fine with it now, it wasn't that long ago that Morganth had psionically attacked Tolkath. Thankfully, Shannon had been there, and her holographic nature had come in handy. She wondered if now, it wasn't happening again.
+"It's all right, Morganth." She assured him, as she stepped toward a small rocky outcropping. She sat down, hoping that her ersatz patient might take the hint. "Does the counselor know you're down here?"
+Morganth looked around dazed. Suddenly, he seemed to snap back into his surroundings. His senses were being overloaded with emotion all around him, fear, and controlled panic filled the air. "He told me to return to my quarters, but . . . I got distracted, had to make sure my plant was secured . . . What happened? What is happening?"
+Shannon did her best to try and calm Morganth's agitation. "The ship's been attacked." She looked back toward the door, locked down now, thanks to the ship's red alert status. "Our Vorta guest wasn't as infallible as she thought."
+Talloc's face went pale. It was as if he had seen death itself. "Uh . . . uh . . ." He muttered something unintelligible. Dr. Harris could tell something was dreadfully wrong as she watched Morganth stutter and trip over his words like a drunken sailor top-side in a hurricane. Suddenly it all burst out. "Where is Reittan? Do you know where he is? Is he alone? I someone with him? Is he ok?"
+Harris focused on Morganth, noting that his eyes had seemed to come alive with laser-like focus. "Morganth, please. Try to relax."
+"I know you have the ability to read his vitals . . . what's his brain activity like right now?? Is it at normal levels?"
+Shannon held up her hand. "Calm down, Morganth." She asked. "He's on the bridge, with the Captain." Shannon closed her eyes for a moment to communicate with the ship's computer, which she essentially was. "His bio-readings are all in the green. Is there some reason they shouldn't be?"
+Morganth sighed a breath of relief, and began to speak but stopped mid-breath. He eyed the Doctor carefully. "Is our conversation going to be recorded?"
+Shannon almost chuckled. She could see how, in his more lucid moments, Morganth could really be quite charming. "Not... if you don't want it to be, though I will retain a perfect memory of it. There's nothing I can do about that I'm afraid."
+Morganth made a decision, one he knew may save his friend in the future. He again began then paused. For a Talloc their word was their bond. Morganth was a better friend to Reittan than they both led on. They had grown up together, for the amount of time Reittan was on Betazed. He knew information about the Counselor that took an admiral's clearance to get.
+He had promised his friend and friend's family that he wouldn't share this information with any person; which is where he got his loop-hole. Dr. Shannon Harris wasn't a living person per se.  "He was different from the day he was born," he began as if finally getting some big secret off his shoulders.  "We have to start at beginning to understand it all."  Morganth began, "the Council of Houses nearly forbade his mother and father from procreating, if that was possible."
+Shannon nodded in understanding, then made her way to one of the many convenient benches in the arboretum. Better, she reasoned, to keep Morganth talking, than scheming a way to get out of the safest part of the ship.
+"Reittan's father's family is one of the few lines of Vulcans that can use telepathic powers beyond touch. Add that to a Betazoid's genetics, and no one knew what would happen.  They were scared," Morganth spat.
+"Sounds like a difficult combination. I always wondered about Tolkath's heritage. Vulcan and Betazed is an odd mix."
+"My mother always said it was a perfect balance for Reittan; Reason and emotion all balled up into one." Talloc chucked slightly as another shudder rocked the Republic, once again, Morganth was back in his dissociated world, responding only to the Doctor.
+Shannon leaned forward. "Don't worry about the ship, Morganth. This is one of the safest places we could be. Tell me more about how you and Tolkath became friends?"
+"Oh . . . we were neighbors. We were born a few months apart. I am the oldest." He continued. "Our mothers were best friends as they grew up. I was always told to stick up for him, because he was different." Talloc continued, "at least I did my best while he was on Betazed."
+"I'm sure you did. Was your childhood difficult?"
+"Not really. I grew up in the second house of Betazed. Where life was often politics. Between us and the Tolkath's I think we had someone from every party, every committee." He winked at the doctor. "Perhaps that was just a SMALL over-exaggeration." The Betazed smiled again and continued. "I grew up a normal life. I learned to love plants when my friend Reittan was gone to Vulcan . . . they had more feeling and kindness than many of the people around me. At least it seemed that way."
+Shannon fought her programming to turn away from Morganth. She had to remind herself, 'keep him talking, keep him calm,' "That's an interesting point of view."
+Morganth looked at the being focusing him. "I can't read your thoughts, but I'm not crazy if that's what you are wondering." His comment was pointed, but not entirely hostile. "I'm not as fragile as many believe me to be." He smirked, "At least not mentally."
+Again, Shannon held up a hand, to dismiss the 'patient's' concerns. "No, no. Not at all. It's a heavy burden. Being responsible for someone else."
+"I was able to take out quite a few of the Dominion when they took over Betazed you know. I was a hero back home. A... hero."
+"You were on Betazed during the attack? I had no idea. I've heard the fighting was intense; house-to-house in some cases. Is that true?"
+"Yes . . . I hated it, every minute of it. Having to use our gift as a weapon for war. To grab every dark emotion, to light up every pain receptor within a being... to drive them mad . . . I hated it, and yet we did it to survive. And here we are, once again, here we are being attacked, even during a time of "peace" by the monsters.  Talloc flickered again . . . "How's Reittan? Is it possible that you can keep an eye on his brain? Let me know if it lights up?"
+"We're fine, here. Tell me more about Tolkath. I know he's a gifted empath, but the authorities were clearly worried about more. Correct?" Shannon thought about Morganth's request. "I can... monitor his pulse, blood pressure, and adrenaline levels. Will that do for now?"
+"Yes," Morganth acquiesced. He sighed and began again. "They were preparing him to send him off to the 'special school' for those with overdeveloped pre-fontal cortexes when his Paternal Grandparent's stepped in and took him to Vulcan. He scared a lot of kids and parents because of his ability. He was Rei-rei the crazy guy. He got into a lot of trouble. So they shipped him of to Vulcan to 'De-emotionalize' him.  He did learn to control things better. In fact it helped him hone his powers and he was able to return to school, getting his degrees in nothing other than telepathic studies." He paused. "That's the reason I'm concerned about him right now."
+Shannon looked on skeptically. "You say he scared a lot of people with his ability. What exactly was it?"
+"On earth they used to have a thing called a blow-horn, his grams called it." He cocked his head to the side, trying to recall in more detail. "He could go up to someone and show loud enough into your mind to be compared to someone shouting into a blow-horn held up next to your ear. Sometimes when he'd get mad, it'd happen. I'd have to calm him down at school until his parents got there."
+"Hmm... " Shannon blinked, using the moment to recall the public version of Counselor Tolkath's file. "There's nothing in his file about being that powerful" She offered. "Perhaps Vulcan was the best place for him? He seems to have learned quit a bit of control."
+"If you'd notice Doctor," he offered, almost as if he were aware of her actions on some instinctive level, "there isn't much in his file about him at all." He shifted his weight slightly, leaning forward on the rock that had served as his perch. "Admiral Janeway, a family friend, had it all sealed off. I think one might still have to go through her office to get the full picture... and yes, he did learn a lot of control. That's the reason he could fend me off when I was without any inhibitions. Remember? I killed people with this." Morganth tapped his index finger against his right temple.
+"I... see." She looked the man over, yet again. "So... you watched over Tolkath, but what about you? What did you do after the war? And how did you end up on Deep Space Nine?"
+"Well, after the war, I followed my family and became a diplomat for a while, and just kept up with my plants. Reittan's family had mentioned that he was serving onboard the Republic, and offered me passage to the station so that I could see him. I of course said yes, as it'd been some time since our last visit, so we got on the Republic, I got distracted by a beautiful girl. They got off; I didn't and so after going nearly mad, here we are. More adventure in a short amount of time than I ever could have expected."
+Shannon took a chance as she considered what to do next. "And, it was a plant toxin that caused you to attack Tolkath, and the others. Is that correct? Some sort of thorn?"
+"You know, that was strange?" He tilted his head again. "It was unsettling. I was going off pure impulse. Right and wrong didn't exist any more for me. Luckily Reittan was there to push back." Morganth smiled, a look of genuine appreciation on his face. "He saved me this time."
+"Lucky, indeed. But, it's really not that simple, is it?"
+"You mean why do I keep asking about him so incessantly?"
+Shannon nodded.
+"Do you remember something I said to Reittan when I was at the peak of the madness . . . about not having to see anyone anymore to use my telepathic powers?"
+"I remember," Shannon offered. "I was there," She said, coolly.
+"Ah... so you were. Well, the truth is that I think Reitan's there too. In the right circumstances, his powers could be... unpredictable."
+Shannon's expression turned grave as she registered a sudden elevation in Tolkath's pulse, respiration and blood pressure. "Just what do you mean... unpredictable?"
+\\
+\\
+\\
+**Location: Main bridge, deck 1, USS Republic**
+In the time it took for the ship's photon torpedoes to cycle back up to fire, the Dominion attack ship had made two more passes. Each time, Republic had managed to roll up on her side, exposing the still-functioning Ventral Shield Array to the incoming fire. But the shields were dropping. Soon, they would fail, or Republic wouldn't be able to maneuver correctly, perhaps both. It was Kim Roth's considered opinion that she was out of options.
+"Ops," she said firmly. "Hail that ship. I want to see them." She turned her head exchanging a glance with Reittan Tolkath, who had spent the time during Republic's engagement with the remaining attack craft sitting to the captain's left. Preparing.
+"Captain," he said quietly. "I don't think that will be necessary."
+Roth nodded. "Do it."
+Reittan inhaled deeply, subconsciously drawing on hate, fear, lust, impatience, and jealousy... every negative emotion he could think of, using the influx of emotion to super-charge his body's functions. He could hear and feel his pulse throbbing in his head, the thrum and boom of his heart like the drum on a battlefield, spurring him to action. He was finally free to revel in his natural state...that thing that for so long he'd had to keep locked down, controlled, stifled, and all it wanted to do was breathe...exist...be.
+Reittan's dark emotions were like a ravenous animal, finally allowed to hunt after years of hunger. In his mind's eye, Reittan saw the people around him as warm, bright shadows...like looking at a view-screen with the color filter up to high. To him, as in fact to most Betazeds, he could sense a sentient's mind-glow long before seeing them. In a sense then, distance didn't matter. It was only an idea, a concept that his hunting dog could ignore, because he'd caught the scent. The beast would not be denied. Finally, it would feast, and on the attacking Dominion ship, three mind-glows, however dim, were snuffed out.
+At the Tactical position, Zoe blinked as one particularly annoying red indicator turned green. "Captain! Attacker's shield's are...they're down!"
+Roth looked at Tolkath, his jaw was set intensely...his breathing heavy, but even. She looked back at the main viewer, which showed the relative tactical position of the two ships that had been locked in combat much longer than Roth had liked. " Torpedo status?"
+Zoe checked the board again. "Two birds in the tubes Captain. Third online in...another eighteen seconds."
+Republic's Captain shook her head. "We'll just have to hope that two shots are enough. Fire at will, Tac."
+"Firing, Aye!"
+Two brilliant orange flares of anti-matter shot into view on the tactical plot, and it seemed for a moment that the entire bridge crew held their breath as they watched the warheads slam into the unshielded hull of the Dominion attacker. In seconds, the hostile ship blew apart, spinning off into two large pieces as the photon torpedoes did their bitter work.
+The fight was over. Republic was victorious, and only three, perhaps four of her passengers knew the reason why.
+\\
+\\
+\\
+**Location: Arboretum, deck 7, USS Republic**
+Shannon Harris shook her head. Seconds after registering the severe spike in Reitan Tolkath's vital signs, the agitation seemed to be gone. His physiology was returning to normal. "That's odd," she commented.
+Morganth looked wryly at his companion. He nodded, knowingly. "Back to normal, isn't he?"
+"Yes."
+"He's better than I thought," Morganth said. "I wonder if that's good or not?" Morganth looked away briefly, watching his foot trace figures in the dirt. "Thanks for keeping me company, doctor, but I think you can go now."
+\\
+\\
+\\
+**Location: Main bridge, deck 1, USS Republic**
+Yellow warning strips and indicators showed the change from red to yellow alert, but the damage was done. Though one of the attacking Dominion ships had been destroyed in the early going, the second ship had hit it's mark, landing what for all Kim Roth knew, was a death blow to Republic's drive systems. At the very least, there was severe damage done to the physical structure of the ship's warp helix and the port warp nacelle. Moving the ship through warp, she knew, would be a near impossibility.
+Her ship was stuck. The warp core was still producing power, but most of the ship's primary systems had been knocked off-line. Now, she was missing her First Officer and had a Vorta onboard who had nothing left to bargain with. "Tactical, dispatch Damage Control Teams, and have Narundi secure our prisoner."
+"Aye, Ma'am."
+Her use of the word prisoner reflected her change in attitude. She was, in the more familiar human vernacular, 'pissed'. Not only at Eris, for not being able to control her soldiers, but also herself, for falling into such a position in the first place. She looked over at Tolkath, whose deep breathing had become calmer since the destruction of the last Dominion ship. A few beats later, the Counselor's eyes opened and he straightened his dark duty tunic. Roth looked at her officer with an appraising eye, searching for anything out of place. Finding nothing, she decided to break the silence. "Are you all right, Counselor?"
+Tolkath let out a heavy sigh and straightened his posture. "I believe so, Captain," he answered.
+"Good. You'll let me know if that changes?"
+"Of course, Captain."
 ----
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 <BOOKMARK:Chapter39>
 <fs x-large>**Chapter 39: Shades of Gray**</fs><wrap lo right>[[archives:do_no_harm#top|Top]]</wrap>\\ \\
+Above the windswept plain, the bright pale sunlight shone down through the thin, overcast sky. Leon stood in the desolate field, confused about his location. It obviously wasn't Ash'aaria, as the cloudy sky was much too bright, and the flowery, pungent scents on the air were full of life, not death. At his feet, knots of scrub grass grew, and the white, sandy soil was indicative of a desert or savannah-like terrain. In the distance, an occasional stout tree or bush outlined themselves against the horizon, and further out towards a distant mountain range, a large lake with white beaches and blood-red water splayed out across the landscape. His eyes drawn skyward, Leon observed a huge flock of birds overhead, plowing forth through the air, sounding a chorus of throaty, raucous cries. They numbered in the thousands, and their pink plumage and long necks suggested a crane-like avian species, but the blunted, bent bills made the birds vaguely foreign to his knowledge of ornithology.
+Without warning, a blinding light pulsed throughout the sky, disrupting the migrating flock, and causing the ground to shake like the resonance from a clap of thunder. Below his feet, the doctor noted a stark change. The ground, though still hosting the same pale soil and and associated plant life, now possessed small stone plaques spaced at regular intervals towards the horizon. There were so many, Leon could not count them all. On the plaques read unfamiliar names subscripted with dates, suggesting the plaques were memorials or grave-markers of a sort. He shifted his eyes to look from one plaque to another, and then to another. The names were unfamiliar, and when she shifted his eyes back towards a plaque that he had previously viewed, the name had changed, as did the date. Each time he attempted to view the same stone, the information changed. Each time, the name was either human, or Vulcan, or Andorian, or then back to a different human name. The dates changed from stardates in the distant future, to the distant past, or to Gregorian dates of indiscernible significance. None of it made sense, and whenever he attempted to calculate the number of years the individual had lived, he came up with a different number each time.
+Behind him, the sand shifted under the foot of another individual. He was not alone in the field of plaques. Turning around, Leon spied a humanoid a few meters away. He was man with a pale, oily complexion, a crop of black, unkept curly hair, and sported a only beard without an associated mustache. His stance was a man of victory; crossing his arms, and overlooking the field with satisfaction and smugness. He wore a dark leather jacket with a military-style bandolier, and a utility belt replete with knives, implements of personal combat, and an old-style pistol-grip phasor. He paid little attention to the doctor until Leon spoke up.
+Confused, the only words he could mutter were, "what are you doing here?"
+The man looked to Leon with detachment and lack of interest. His black eyes shifted away from the field of headstones and looked to him with a disturbingly calm expression, replying, "I died here."
+The shock of the words sent Leon stumbling backwards, causing him to lose balance and trip on one of the headstones. From his position on the ground, another, authoritarian voice ordered him to stand back up.
+"On your feet!"
+----
+"Prisoner!" a distant voice echoed as Leon roused from his slumber. "On your feet!"
+Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, Leon slowly regained lucidity while lying on the bunk of his holding cell. His face had been recently washed, complete with a hair trim and beard shave, but about five days worth of stubble had grown back due to lack of access to beard suppressor or a shaver. While he hadn't occupied the brig long enough to be issued a prisoner's jumpsuit, he was wearing the standard Starfleet-issue black slacks and black undershirt, minus his usual ivory turtleneck sweater.
+"Prisoner! On your feet!" the voice beckoned again from the other side of the energy curtain.
+Leon sighed as he swiveled his body from a lying position to a sitting position on the bunk. For the past week, the guards had been checking on him every six hours, both at the start and end of a guard shift, usually waking him up in the middle of the night. Rubbing his eyes again, he recognized that the guard was none other than Petty Officer First Class Brent Murdock.
+"Murdock..." Leon grumbled sleepily. "Do you really have to keep checking on me all the time? It's not like I'm going to disappear into thin air, you know."
+It was almost as if the doctor had activated the red alert klaxon when Murdock shouted back at Leon with such animosity that it caused him to flinch.
+"I SAID ON YOUR FEET!" roared the non-commissioned officer, with his face contorted into an vehement scowl.
+Now fully awake, Doctor Cromwell complied by sliding off the bunk to a standing position with his hands hanging behind his back. Murdock looked over him silently for a moment before turning away and walking back to his security station without a word. Thinking that it was just a routine bed-check, Leon was about to resume his sitting position when a second pair of footsteps strolled into view from out in front of the force field.
+It was John Carter.
+Leon raised an eyebrow at the executive officer, acknowledging him silently. He had not seen him since the brief moment in the transporter room a week ago, and while it may have been due to the captain's standing order to only let security and Lieutenant Commander Tolkath visit him in the brig, the doctor felt that John could easily have finagled permission from Captain Roth if he really wanted to. As is was, he hadn't, adding to Leon's personal suspicion that John no longer considered their friendship of any consequence. Regarding his visitor for a brief moment, he walked away from the forcefield and over to the wall-mounted sink, where he activated the servo that slid back the washbasin cover.
+"You're not the counselor," the doctor commented without emotion while he scooped a handful of water to splash across his face. Considering the sinkful of pristine water that appeared at his beckon call, he silently marveled about how much technology he had taken for granted aboard the Republic while stranded on Ash'aaria. "I'll assume his daily visits down here were for more than just to keep my spirits up?"
+"Ash'aaria was worse than Styx," John Carter replied, reminiscing about their shared marooning on a Demon-class planet during the Kreltan conflict over a year ago. "You were down there for a long time, and we needed Reittan to do a full psych eval before we decided what to do next."
+"Mmm hmm," Leon dried his face with a towel, sounding not-so-convinced. "Well, you can save it for my court martial. All I ask for is access to a lawyer. I don't suppose that Commander Tuvok would be willing to defend a ninth Republic officer?"
+"I don't know," John crossed his arms. "You made quite a mess of things down there on Ash'aaria..."
+Scrutinizing the Martian's eyes, Leon huffed in frustration after another fruitless effort to decipher John's expression. 'That damn poker face!' he thought to himself. "Look, if you're here to listen to me apologize, you can forget it! I did what I did. I stood on my principles when no one else would lift a finger to help those people. So if you want to call me a traitor, just do it. If you want to call me a disgrace to Starfleet, go ahead. I'm not sorry, and I'd do it again if I had to!"
+Realizing he had spoken prior to thinking it completely through, Leon rolled his eyes upward as he mulled over his recent statement. Offering a clarification, he added, "maybe I'd change a FEW things..."
+With only a brief, authoritarian look, the executive officer sternly remarked, "I came here to say only one thing, doctor..." John looked towards Murdock at the security station, and gave him a nod of his head. To Leon's surprise, the field dropped, and Carter's expression softened.
+"I'm proud of you..."
+----
+Without another word, John Carter and Leon Cromwell had walked out of the cell block together. The doctor felt uneasy in the tense silence, since John hadn't explained exactly why he was proud of Leon, nor why he was being sprung from a week-long incarceration in the ship's brig. Without any contact with the rest of the crew, save that of the security guards and the ship's counselor, Leon had assumed he was being ferried back to Deep Space Nine for a court martial. Now, he had no idea what was going on at all.
+Still wielding the silver towel from his jail cell, the doctor fell back onto his main defense against a disquieting yet unspoken situation: He tried engaging in smalltalk.
+"I felt the ship's warp drive activate last night," he mentioned, as if they were on a nonchalant walk on the holodeck. "I take it we're finally underway?"
+"Yes," John mentioned casually. "We left the Ash'aarian system at 2230 hours yesterday evening."
+The calm response only served to deepen the doctor's agitation, as if he was being forced to wait for the other shoe to drop. As a character trait, he wasn't a patient man, especially when it came to inaction. He had many concerns on his mind, and he was pent up with frustration for the past week due to the lack of news from being locked away in the brig.
+"I need to know," Leon finally asked anxiously. "What happened to Athra?"
+"Always worried about your patient, aren't you?" John remarked with a raised eyebrow. "Even though she's NOT your patient anymore?"
+"You're speaking about her in present tense," observed Leon without answering the question. "That means she's alive?"
+John nodded affirmatively. "Doctor Yezbeck is now a bonafide miracle worker. His knowledge of bionics helped him save what was left of Athra's organics... something about 'reworking her cybernetics into a simplistic life support system'.  Honestly, it's gibberish to me, but he said he needed time to re-grow some her vital organs usng regen medicine, so he had to keep her in a stasis chamber in the trauma chamber.  Doctor Rhyda was able to regenerate portions of her brain that were affected by the virus. He said it was the most delicate surgery that he ever performed."
+"What's her prognosis?"
+"Well, you'll have to ask the sickbay staff for the details, but she lost a lot of her brain to the virus. It's affected her memory, and she'll be spending a while re-learning basic motor functions. It's enough to say that she won't be leaving Karu's hospital anytime soon.  I doubt she'll be leading the government ever again."
+"Is Nat okay?"
+"Oh, he's fine," dismissed John. "A little grouchier than everyone remembers him, but no worse for the wear. His official report of what happened was very enlightening... something about how Cha'rik forced you and him to pilot the stolen runabout after taking Miss Warner hostage at the point of a phasor. It's too bad that the runabout was so badly damaged by  Republic's warp field after it launched that you were forced to crash-land on Ash'aaria."
+John's tone sounded genuine, but when Leon opened his mouth to protest the accuracy of the report, one look from his executive officer told him it would be best if he said nothing. Leon wasn't sure if the captain's report was fabricated, or if Nat lied through his teeth, but either way, he didn't want to find out which.
+"Could I... er..." the doctor was unsure if he should voice his next request. "Could I get the 'less-than-official' account of what happened after Republic beamed me back on board?" John looked to Leon with a suspicious eye, as if subconsciously warning the doctor about the nature of his question. He got the message. "...OFF the record?" the doctor added hastily.
+"Okay," agreed John. "But you didn't hear it from me. The captain struck a deal with Karu and Teya. They're both now leading a coalition government on Ash'aaria. In exchange for some... supplies... Karu and Teya  agreed that they would disavow any knowledge of your help in their 'New Ashaaria' movement."
+Leon was spellbound at the development of the alliance between Teya and Karu, and the surprised look in his eyes was difficult to hide. "What sort of 'supplies' did the captain provide?" he asked, taking note of John's effort to add an asterisk to the word "supplies".
+"Thanks to YOU," John started in a marginally accusatory manner. "The Ash'aarians were left with a massive supply deficit. What started out as an offer by the captain for some extra food and medicine turned into near-interstellar extortion by Karu for some rather complex hardware. By the time negotiations were finished, Karu ended up with an antimatter plasma conditioner, at least a dozen protein synthesizers, half of our portable fusion generators from the away team equipment supplies, and a class-four industrial replicator."
+Leon came to a dead halt in the corridor and gawked at John. "A CFI replicator?" he remarked with shock. "Those things are the size of a holodeck! Don't tell me that the captain keeps one of THOSE tucked away in ship stores?"
+"Not exactly," John explained while coming to a halt. "It took Pakita four days of beaming to and fro the planet to build one on the ground from engineering surplus. The warp engines were offline for an entire day while she replicated additional equipment, and even had to salvage all the non-replicative parts from the deck 40 cargo transporter."
+"I suppose this all goes against the Prime Directive," Leon looked down to the floor with a twinge of guilt.
+"As you know, the Ash'aarians are a warp-capable civilization," explained John in a semi-formal tone. "With the recent government shake-up, Athra's original refusal of our help was formally rescinded by Karu and Teya, so the applicability of the Prime Directive is questionable in this case. While they were about 200 years behind us in replicator technology, they had at least mastered basic protein synthesis. What we provided them was, at most, a 100 year leap in matter conversion physics. Pakita worked hard to make sure everything she built was intentionally low-tech, and cleaned up most of what you left behind at Karu's hospital, ESPECIALLY that monstrosity of a runabout food replicator you all modified. There should be minimal cultural contamination due to technology introduction. As for OTHER types of contamination..." John looked at Leon as if thrusting the rest of the responsibility squarely on the doctor's shoulders. "...only time will tell."
+"What about the captain?" Leon asked, worried about her opinion. "What's she going to do?"
+"As far as Captain Roth is concerned, Republic returned only to rescue you, Nat, and Miss Warner," explained John. "This second visit to Ash'aaria has been officially recorded as a rescue mission, and while we requested information from the Ash'aarian government on the whereabouts of the Runabout Fowler, they claimed no knowledge. Captain Roth has listed both the runabout and Cha'rik as missing in action and presumed destroyed."
+Leon's twinge of guilt returned, causing John to ask "I don't suppose you know anything about it?"
+The doctor looked as if he was about to respond, but John interrupted him before he could.
+"I didn't think so," he cut him off quickly and conclusively before turning away, resuming his walk down the length of the corridor.
+"So... we're just leaving them alone, then?" Leon asked while catching up to John. "No emissary from the Federation? No requests for protectorate status?"
+"Karu and Teya officially requested only the supplies we left them," John explained while coming to a stop in front of the closed turbolift door. As he waited for the lift to arrive, he continued his explanation. "They wanted time to rebuild their planet all by themselves before looking to the stars again. We threw them the life preserver, and this time, they accepted it. But now, they want swim to shore on their own."
+"No promise of return? No way to call for help if they run into trouble?"
+"Fortunately, neither Karu nor Teya are as xenophobic as Athra was. We left a full-spectrum, long-range subspace communications satellite in orbit around Ash'aaria, along with enough surface transceivers for people to use it. We also put a relay booster buoy in deep solar orbit, and we'll deploy another one once we leave the nebula. They'll be able to transmit messages to the wormhole communications array and access the entire Federation subspace network as often as they want."
+"You mean, IF they want," added Leon.
+"We can only toss them the lifeline, doc," John Carter admonished with a scolding glance. "It's up to THEM if they choose to take it."
+Realizing that Carter was drawing a non-verbal parallel to the plague cure he developed weeks ago, Leon fell silent as they waited for the turbolift to make its way all the way down the turboshaft from the upper levels. However, he was unable to bare the silence for long, as his current and yet-to-be-known disposition back aboard Republic was dubious at best, so the doctor couldn't help but offer small talk again.
+"So," he started again uncomfortably. "Anything interesting happen while I was away?"
+Sensing that the doctor was feeling the stress of his presumed notoriety with the captain, John chose to humor Leon by engaging his question. With his forehead forming a furrow, the executive officer looked towards the ceiling in rumination.
+"Not a lot..." he mused while pondering every event that had taken place since their first departure from Ash'aaria eleven weeks ago. "But Jimmy Tapscott's Labrador retriever DID have a litter of puppies while you were gone..."
+At that exact moment, the hum of an arriving turbolift signaled the parting of the doors, revealing the occupants as none other than the Vorta clone, Eris-5, escorted by two burly security officers.
+"Honestly!" the Vorta complained to the guards. "Lieutenant Beauvis' daily-prescribed, one-hour exercise allowances should take place in the *arboretum*! NOT the cargo deck! Why shouldn't I be allowed to see other sections of the ship? It's my first stay aboard a Galaxy Class starship, after all. Oh, commander!" she recognized Carter upon emergence from the lift. "Could you put in a complaint for me with the captain? These accommodations she's provided are *quite* sub-standard! She continues to act as if *I'm* the one to blame for my Jem Hadar soldiers rebelling!"
+"Quiet!" ordered one of the guards as they escorted her down the corridor. "No interaction with the crew. Captain's orders."
+"This is preposterous!" she exclaimed to her escorts. "It wasn't ME who attacked your vessel! Can't you understand that? Are *all* Starfleet officers this prejudiced against the Dominion?"
+Entering the turbolift, John and Leon kept their eyes fixed on the trio at the far end of the hallway, watching as they turned into the cell block opposite the one that Leon had occupied. The two officers silently regarded the exposition for a moment through thoughtful glances. Then, without missing beat, Leon turned to John and asked a single question before the turbolift doors slid shut.
+"Puppies?"
+----
+After a minute in the turbolift, the commander heaved a heavy sigh, and his expression turned stoic and focused.
+"Computer, halt turbolift," he beckoned to the ship's omnipresent computer system, causing the hum of the magnetic drive system to subside and the speaker to beep with a positive response.
+"Here's the deal, Leon," John began with all due seriousness. "The captain realizes that there's no black-and-white in situations like this. She recognizes that there are shades of gray, and while her interpretation of the Prime Directive may have been a darker shade, yours was a lighter one. In truth, if she wasn't bound by regulations, Republic may never have left orbit and you would have led a full-blown planetside humanitarian mission sanctioned by the captain."
+Leon looked to his friend with encouragement.
+"With that said," John scolded sternly. "The regulations still stand, and she knows FULL WELL what REALLY happened when you left the ship, despite what the official record states..."
+The ominous tone in John's voice turned stale the air in the turbolift, and Leon fidgeted uncomfortably once again.
+"However," the commander's voice softened. "She also believes in second chances." John looked away from Leon while explaining. "It took her years after the Thundercrest incident before she was offered a second chance to redeem herself when she was handed Republic. According to her rules, we're all allowed ONE screw-up." Turning back to Leon sharply, John drove the point home. "...and this one was YOURS. Do it again, and she'll throw the book at you so hard that you'll have general order number one embossed on your forehead for a month... computer, resume turbolift."
+As the elevator started again, the reverberating hum returned, augmented by the renewed tense silence. Of course, considering the doctor's anxiety level, the silence was doomed to a short life once again.
+"If the captain is so damned angry at me, why in the hell are YOU so proud?" Leon finally exclaimed, referring to John's previous declaration in the brig.
+John stared at his friend with that tell-tale smirk, indicating that something was up his sleeve. He then progressed to a full-blown chuckle, and began shaking his head.
+"Grozit, Leon!" he exclaimed in genuine amusement, which finally broke the insufferable tension between the two. "You have sprocking guts! Maybe not all the grace in the damn galaxy, but guts!"
+Leon looked both confused and stupefied. "Guts?"
+"When it came down to choosing between following the rules or doing what was right, you did the latter. That takes guts. It takes even MORE guts to do it when it flies in the face of your commanding officer. It might not always be the *smartest* thing to do, but it's the sign of a good officer who sticks to what they believe in. And hell if I don't want someone on my side who's trying to do the right thing, and not just be a 'yes man'."
+"So you WANT your people disobeying orders rather than agreeing with you?"
+"Don't confuse discord with mutiny, doc," he remarked. "Vocal disagreements are fine, but if you're going to take action by going against the flow, you'd better be ready to pay the price. Besides, had I been in your position, I might have done the same thing."
+"I doubt you would have," Leon remained unconvinced. "Stealing a runabout isn't exactly your style."
+John used a breath to scoff outloud. "Tell THAT to the crew of the HMS Republic..."
+"What?"
+"Never mind..."
+----
+By the time the two had arrived at their destination, the anxiousness between John and Leon had evaporated, and before either realized it, they were laughing and cavorting as if nothing had happened over the past two and half months.
+"No kidding! True story!" John was explaining as the doors to Doctor Cromwell's quarters slipped open. "As soon as Yezbeck saw Nat sitting on the diagnostic bed with his sparkly eyes and pale skin, the first thing he said was 'having sex with a Femorian Krangor Beast is illegal in this quadrant'! We couldn't help it! Even the captain busted out laughing!"
+"Well, I'm glad his nanoprobes returned him to normal," remarked Leon, acting jovial but with negative emotions simmering just below the surface. He wasn't sure himself what the emotions exactly were, but they seemed to be a complex mix of uneasiness, anger, and resentment at no one in particular. He wasn't exactly looking forward to returning to duty after being out of it for so long, especially since he wasn't sure how he would be accepted by the sickbay staff. "I guess I'll look over his latest medical scan when I get back to work."
+"Yeah," John replied with uncertainty and regret in his voice. The genial atmosphere between the two came to a halt while John struggled to find the right words. He paused for moment in the open doorway to collect his thoughts, as if choosing his words carefully. "About that..."
+Leon had barely made it to the center of the room when he felt the hesitance in Carter's voice. Turning around, he watched the executive officer slowly walk into the room and lean against a nearby table. Without a word, the doctor's expression showed that he was expecting further explanation from his friend.
+"It's like this," John started. "Based on the counselor's psych eval, the captain felt it would be wise to keep you out of sickbay for a little while."
+"What??" Leon exclaimed incredulously.
+"I wouldn't say she's firing you," John added carefully. "She just... wants to ease your transition back to Republic."
+"I don't believe it!" Leon flapped his arms once in a sign of futility. "She throws me in the brig... springs me a week later... and now takes my JOB away?"
+"It's only temporary," John raised his hands defensively. "And if we have a full blown medical emergency that Yezbeck, Harris, and the rest of the medical staff can't handle alone, you're back on the job. But since we can only manage warp two at the moment, we got at least two weeks until we reach the wormhole, and the counselor recommended that you not be thrown into a medical situation right away."
+"And why is that??"
+John sighed again, not sure how to break the news to Leon. "The captain and I know about your recent PTSD relapses," he informed him, causing an ominous feeling to creep back into Leon's stomach. "Roth ordered the counselor -- in no uncertain terms -- to give us everything he had about you from the psych eval. While it won't end up on your permanent record, the turmoil of Ash'aarian incident appears to have played havoc on your PTSD progress, especially since you hadn't the benefit of regular counseling sessions for the past ten weeks. Tolkath indicated that you're still fit for duty, but the captain feels that reducing your chances of PTSD relapse trigged by medical emergencies would give you some time to heal. So, until we're docked, Yezbeck is temporarily in charge of sickbay."
+"Great..." Leon surrendered with a defeated expression, and feeling as if his personal privacy had been somewhat violated. "What the hell am I supposed to do now? Take a another goddamn vacation?"
+"No, actually," John stated, preparing to lay yet another surprise upon poor Leon. "In case you didn't notice before you left, we got a bunch of civilian scientists running amok on board. They're not Starfleet officers, and with Cha'rik gone, there's no science chief around to keep a leash on them. Butenhoff doesn't want them, and I can't exactly put them in the brig for sneering too much, and with a light patient-load in sickbay, we have more than enough medical doctors at the moment."
+"So... you want ME to do it?" the doctor was perplexed. "I'm not exactly an expert in astrophysics or computer science, John."
+"You don't have to be. Pakita and Butenhoff can be a subject-area expert if you need it, but what these civvies need at the moment is someone they respect in charge of them. Right now, the only commissioned officer aboard they respect is YOU."
+"Me?" he replied with bafflement once again.
+"Leon, they already had positive view of you during your coordination of the Ash'aarian plague research," John continued. "The fact that you didn't let their research go to waste by taking it directly to the surface yourself only served to reinforce that respect. That, and the fact that you gave the captain a proverbial black-eye in the process. Combine that with the ecological restoration program you had Nat doing on the surface, and you've pretty much got your own science fan club onboard. In fact, Doctor Susan Hayworth was extremely interested in your... what did she call it?... 'radiotrophic algae injection' into the planet's oceans?"
+Leon felt another knot forming in his stomach.
+"Yes..." John nodded his head emphatically, taking note of the aghast expression on the doctor's face. "Remember her? The ship's oceanographer? Or were you in such a hurry to run off to Ash'aaria that you completely forgot that you two were dating?"
+Leon know that John was right, and that there wasn't much more he could say about the issue. As for John, he waited a second longer while the doctor collected his thoughts before spying a gift he had left in the room prior to springing Leon from the brig. It was hanging on the back of the chair behind Leon's work desk, and had yet to be noticed by the doctor. Working his way behind the desk, John unhooked the black piece of cloth and tossed it in Leon's direction.
+"Besides," the executive officer remarked. "You have other duties to tend to, and they're not on deck twelve. They're on deck one."
+Catching the article in mid-air, Leon unfolded it to reveal a Starfleet officer's uniform jacket, complete with blue piping and lieutenant commander's rank. With both surprise and trepidation, the doctor looked silently to his friend, hoping to find a hint of a joke or friendly mockery. There was none, as John's face was serious as a Vulcan schoolteacher.
+"You'll be taking over bridge watch from the counselor on gamma shift every other evening starting tonight," John informed him, working his way back around the desk en route to the door. As it hissed open, John rattled off a list of scheduled events. "The weekly senior staff meeting is Wednesday at 1200 hours. And as usual, poker is in my quarters at 1900 Friday. Don't be late." The executive officer looked as f he was about to exit before adding one last thing. "Oh, and if I were you, I wouldn't be late to relieve the counselor tonight, either." Just before the door slid shut, John's muttering trailed off into the hallway outside, "I heard his looks could kill..."
+A moment later, Leon found himself alone in the silence of his quarters, absorbing all of the changes that had occurred in the past few minutes. He ruminated over the uniform shirt that John had tossed him, trying to remember the last time he had actually put one on. It hadn't been since his early enlistment years, prior to leaving for the University of Luna over fifteen years ago. Carefully, he placed the folded piece of clothing down on the desk, next to several more "welcome back" articles that various crew members gifted him. A bottle of scotch whiskey from Shannon, an old-fashioned doctor's head mirror from the gang in sickbay, and a book about the oceans of Pacifica from Susan. It was then that Leon noticed a larger box set aside from the rest, with a PADD lying next to it. Curious, the doctor opened the box to find three plant seedlings of unknown origin. While he was a fair horticulturalist, these were of a species he had never seen before. Assuming that the PADD would explain, he began reading:
+<WRAP center round box 80%>
+**//Unto the Chirurgeon Cromwell does Medicus Shaara bring greetings.
+\\ \\
+Thus I use for the last time the title 'chirurgeon' to address any one individual by name, as it is the proclamation of Premier Karu and Legionnaire Teya that the title be retired as one of the many reforms to cleanse the old ways which brought Ash'aaria to its knees. It seems terribly unfair to have Republic and your name eliminated from our historical annuals, as you have had a profound effect on what is to become a new era in our planet's awakening. Nevertheless, the new government felt it was best that we stand on our own now, and that precludes reliance on any more outside help. At least for now.
+\\ \\
+Surprisingly, Athra's new condition has made her complacent, serene, and easy to get along with. She works tirelessly at learning new skills in attempts to become more independent of our medical support. Just yesterday she re-mastered drinking water from a cup, and we believe by the end of the month that she'll be able to walk again. Still, she cannot recall basic memories like her name or where she was born, and forming new memories is a task unto itself. Whether this is fortunate or not has yet to be seen, but at least she's making new friends, especially with several of our new mutant patients who are, like her, recovering from the advanced stages of the plague.
+\\ \\
+Suburbia base has been renamed 'Karu's Hope', and decontamination of the surrounding terrain outside the hospital has begun. It is the Premier's hope that we can begin building new surface structures here by next spring if all goes well. Karu's stronghold has been designated as the new capital city, and renamed 'Ecumenaaria', which means 'home of the beginning'. The special equipment your friends provided have allowed us to start constructing proper dwellings in the refugee camps, and we'll also start construction on a new aboveground government building directly over the stronghold. The premier promises that Ecumenaaria will serve as a beacon of hope and virtue for years to come.
+\\ \\
+We still have many struggles ahead of us. There is much suffering and devastation on the surface between Karu's Hope and Ecumenaaria, but there is talk of establishing a permanent road - possibly even a rail system - along the twelve-hundred kilotrad distance between here and there. The thought is that it will become the backbone of our reconstruction efforts on this continent in the coming years. However, even should we be able to re-build these lands, there are still three other continents that will need our help, and I don't expect that our planet will make a full recovery within my lifetime. Perhaps Tweena's?
+\\ \\
+Speaking of which, Tweena keeps asking where you and your friend Hawk have gone. I've tried explaining numerous times that your place is among the stars, while hers is here on Ash'aaria. Of course, since she's never seen a star, that starts a whole new batch of questions. Nevertheless, she's become quite a good gardener, and she's been able to germinate several batches of Klandon Fruit tree seedlings from the seeds you replicated for her. Enclosed are several seedlings for you, Mister Hawk, and Miss Warner to enjoy. They should produce fruit in about five of your Earth-years. Ghrune says that there's a legend stating that if they produce fruit for any one owner in less time than that, their life path will be truly blessed.
+\\ \\
+May your tree bare fruit for you early, Cromwell. Thank you for all you and your friends have done for us, and for risking everything to make a difference in our lives. Regardless of what Karu and Teya have declared, you will always be known as 'The Chirurgeon' to us, and with a much different meaning and reputation than your native predecessors have garnered. Grethig-Kindra, Cromwell.
+\\ \\
+Your colleague, Medicus Shaara//**
+</WRAP>
+----
+**Location: Main bridge, deck 1, USS Republic**\\
+**Timeframe: 2400 hours shiptime**
+With a soft hiss, the doors to the turboshaft parted, and Leon Cromwell, dressed in a Starfleet uniform for the first time in over fifteen years, slowly stepped out onto the bridge. He portrayed slight discomfort in his attire, tugging at each cuff and pulling down on the waistband, yet found redeeming comfort in the blue sleeve piping that reminded him of his current temporary role as well as his eventual return to his permanent one. Internally, his stomach was full of butterflies due to the sudden change in his surroundings, as less than 24 hours ago he was asleep in the brig under the watchful eye of ship security. Now, as fate would have it, the captain had not only handed him a reprieve, but also a reminder that she and Commander Carter still trusted him without reservation. Based on current events, Leon was now soberly aware that such trust was not to be taken lightly, as no skipper worth their captain's bars would ever hand the reins of their own ship over to someone they didn't implicitly trust.
+He was determined to live up to that trust.
+Looking around the bridge, Leon spied only a few individuals on duty at this late hour. While the ship was technically still on beta shift, the gamma shift personnel had already reported in, with Lieutenant Kroeger taking his place at helm, Ensign Narundi at tactical, and a young female petty officer from operations using one of the rear computer consoles. All other stations were empty, with the exception of the command chair, where Counselor Tolkath sat reading a PADD. As Leon walked down the ramp, Reittan looked up, smiled at the arriving doctor, and stood up to face him.
+"Good evening, doctor, he said formally, offering him the PADD. "Here's tonights situation log. Engineering reports that the damaged warp drive continues to operate within two percent of nominal at our current speed of warp two. Navigation reports a rimward course of 2-1-5 point three mark four, and a wormhole ETA of thirteen days, six hours, and twenty two minutes. Operations is performing an overnight sensor diagnostic, which is using fourteen percent of the main computer processing power, and they continue to keep the deck 40 cargo transporter offline until repairs can be made at Deep Space Nine. Tactical reports one non-hostile prisoner incarcerated in the deck 38 brig and is currently in sleep cycle. Sickbay reports two visits by ship personnel over the past eight hours, and all were discharged within twenty minutes for minor ailments. Psychology reports a high crew morale, and aside from a minor dispute in ten-forward, the civilian crewmaster reports no complaints or violations of ship policy by the non-Starfleet crew." Reittan paused with a slight half-smile before giving the status of the final department. "And of course, science reports the appointment of a temporary department head as of 2400 hours this evening."
+"Thank you," replied Leon, as he hesitantly accepted the PADD. "I appreciate everything you've done," he said earnestly.
+The counselor knew Leon on a deeper level than what they could talk about openly on the bridge, but he didn't need his psychic powers to know that Leon was grateful for the vote of confidence after revealing his PTSD to the captain and Commander Carter. Normally, such information would be considered doctor-patient confidentiality, but considering the extreme circumstance - as well as the captain's direct order - the counseling sessions had to be revealed to Leon's chain of command. The doctor knew this, and held him no malice.
+"You're welcome, Leon," Reittan replied verbally. "And with that, Beta shift is now officially off duty. The bridge is yours. Good night."
+Leon smiled silently in acknowledgement, watching as the lieutenant commander walked up the ramp around the command pit, and exited the bridge through the turbolift doors. With the bridge machinery chirping softly around him, the doctor glanced at the empty science station to the center right of the bridge. While it was over two years since he operated one on the Bremerton, there would be plenty of time on gamma shift to re-familiarize himself with it. For now, he took his seat in the command chair, turned his attention to the armrest status panel, and logged in the transfer of duty shifts from beta to gamma.
+"Begin night shift," announced Leon, causing the computer to dim the lights of the bridge, as well as other public areas of the ship, to one-half illumination.
+The change in lighting also allowed a more subtle change in ambiance, as the brilliant starlines of warp space on the main view became much more vivid and sharp, bathing the bridge in a soft, subtle glow of star light. The spectacle was hypnotizing, especially to the doctor, who had not experienced late-night stargazing from the bridge ever before. He reflected upon the parallax of star streaks before him, realizing that John's words from many months ago had finally found meaning within his own complex psyche. For the first time in a long while, Doctor Cromwell felt at home. For it was here, among the stars, where he could make a difference.

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