2

All in all, Sheppard’s first three days as Horizon’s captain was mostly uneventful as they traveled through space at warp speed uninterrupted. He’d spent time getting to know the senior staff and familiarizing himself with the ship by walking it from deck to deck. In all, it was a fine ship. Smaller but more advanced than the Galaxy Class ship he’d served on, the Sovereign Class had been built to fight the Borg. After the return of Voyager and the collapse of the transwarp conduits leading into Federation Space, the threat of the Borg was diminished, at least for the time being.

Sheppard stripped off his Starfleet uniform, donned a gray and black colored robe, and climbed into bed. He wasn’t sure exactly how a person became this tired aboard a ship at warp. He had certainly not been bored, but all of his departments seemed to be functioning smoothly thus far. Granted, the ship was still untested, and the minute they ended up in a combat situation all manner of complications would arise, from operations difficulties, to ship repairs, to dealing with the inevitable loss of crewmen. What they were in right now was still the honeymoon phase.

“Computer, kill the lights,” he said. His quarters went dark and Sheppard closed his eyes, looking forward to a solid six hours of sleep before his next shift began. It was true that most Starfleet doctors and counsellors recommended eight hours of sleep in order to maintain a normal circadian rhythm aboard a starship, Sheppard had never been one to spend any less than twelve hours on duty, which came at the expense of sleep, which he really didn’t miss. Six hours was a normal amount for him most evenings. Less than that and he would feel fatigued the next day, and he considered more than that a waste of time.

His thoughts trailed off quickly and he was soon very close to sleep. He hoped he wouldn’t dream of the second battle of Chin’toka again… His mind began to drift as he surrendered consciousness to fatigue.

A chime woke him with a start. “Computer, lights.”

As the lights came up, he heard the chime again. “Bridge to Captain Sheppard, you have a priority communication coming in from Admiral Jellico.” He swore that foul tempered admiral knew his schedule and chose now to call just to rouse him from a deep sleep.

Sheppard groaned. “Computer, how long was I asleep?”

“Three hours, forty-two minutes,” came the reply.

“No wonder I feel like crap,” he said. He grabbed the badge on his uniform, tapped it, and said, “Sheppard here. I’ll take this in my quarters.”

“Acknowledged, Captain.”

Sheppard moved over to a communications screen which came alive and displayed the Federation logo the moment he was seated in front of it. “Computer, put the admiral through to me.”

The logo was soon replaced with the face of the admiral, who’s graying blond hair framed a countenance that could be described as simultaneously tired and cantankerous. “Captain Sheppard, you appear to be out of uniform. I didn’t interrupt your sleep, did I?”

“No, I always dress like this,” Sheppard replied. “The bridge crew particularly enjoys it when I walk in wearing this robe and a sleeping mask.” He wouldn’t dream of addressing most of the admiralty in this way, but Jellico was known as being overbearing, embracing the most militaristic of attitudes about Starfleet. He was also a bully with subordinates, so the only way to deal with him was to ensure that he understood from the beginning that his jackholery would not be tolerated.

Jellico’s stoic expression indicated that he didn’t appreciate the captain’s attempt at humor. “Sheppard, don’t make me order a psych eval on your first assignment.”

“Admiral, with all due respect, our first assignment was simply to leave Spacedock and jump to Warp. Other than a stopover at Deep Space Nine, our orders are a blank slate.”

“There’s a reason for that,” Jellico said. “I’m sure you know the Federation’s situation in the wake of the Dominion War. It’s been three years and we’re still trying to recover, both in terms of rebuilding our fleet, and training new officers.”

“I’m familiar,” Sheppard said. “My understanding is that this ship’s mission is to help shore up the Federation’s holdings… keep worlds from seceding, and generally show the flag in areas where we haven’t been able to maintain a presence recently.”

“That’s an accurate assessment,” Jellico replied. “And I’m officially giving you your first mission.”

“Well, don’t keep me waiting,” Sheppard said. “It’s not like I was trying to sleep or anything.”

Jellico’s face reddened visibly. “Captain, you do realize that your ‘wit and attitude’ might be part of the reason it took this long for us to pull out the captain’s chair, right?”

“And here I thought it was all those times I decided I was happier where I was at than I would be taking command of whichever vessel Starfleet was offering me at the time.”

Jellico paused, clearly annoyed with Sheppard. “Captain, I need the Horizon to load up with medical supplies at Deep Space Nine, including retrovirals to combat an emerging plague on Gour II, which is in Federation space not far from the Breen’s border.”

“I think we can handle that,” Sheppard said.

“It’s a little more complicated than that,” Jellico said.

“I had a feeling it would be.”

“We’ve been hearing rumblings that the planetary government of Gour II has been considering severing ties with the Federation.”

“They’re pretty far out. I can see why they’d consider it,” Sheppard said.

“Well the Federation would like them to remain in. It has strategic importance against the Breen, not to mention the fact that seceding would show a sign of weakness and encourage other systems to do the same.”

“So our real mission is to go there, show that the Federation still cares about them, and figure out how to convince them to stay.”

“That sums it up,” Jellico replied.

“Is there anything else I should know about this before we arrive?”

“Only that this close to Breen space, I wouldn’t be surprised if they have something to do with Gour II’s sudden interest in secession.”

“That thought also crossed my mind,” Sheppard said. The thought of possibly going up against the Breen sent a chill down his spine. He’d seen enough of what they were capable during the Dominion War. If they were trying to encroach upon the Federation’s territory and take a piece of it, this could lead to another conflict, and it was one he would not be happy to see. Their ships were just as capable as their Federation counterparts, and their troops were as ruthless as any Klingon. There was also the simple fact that they creeped him out a bit with their covered heads, refrigeration suits, and the metallic screech of their voices. No, regardless of what was at stake, it would be best to find a peaceful solution to the situation.

“Captain, I can’t stress how important it is that we don’t lose Gour II. Do anything you can to keep them in the Federation.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Now go get some sleep,” Jellico said with a wry grin. “You look exhausted.”

Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions.

“Thank you, sir,” Sheppard said. “Computer, end transmission.” The screen went blank and the Federation logo returned after a moment. If they were even potentially going to face the Breen, odds were better than average that he’d dream about the second battle of Chin’toka again tonight. It occurred to him that he had post-traumatic stress from that battle, but he’d thus far done a good job hiding it and avoiding the ship’s counsellors.

* * *

Julian Bashir looked at the emptiness of his quarters. Aside from brief outings from the station, he had spent ten years of his life living out of this place. His time at Deep Space Nine had gone from being a posting he’d felt was beneath him to a place he considered home. And yet, three years after the conclusion of the Dominion War, it felt like a home where all the kids had grown up and moved out.

Sisko had been the first to go. Initially believed dead, Cassidy had told them that Benjamin had come to her and told her that he would be staying with the Prophets for some time. As much as Bashir believed her to be a rational person, the fact was that his appearance to her could not be proven, nor had he appeared to anyone else within the past three years. There had been complete silence from Benjamin Sisko, which would be consistent with a completely different classification for him: dead. Bashir wanted to not believe that, but his faith was stretched to the limits on this matter. The Benjamin Sisko he knew would never knowingly abandon his wife and two children, knowing that one was still a young child and would grow up without ever knowing him if he didn’t return to them.

Miles O’brien had been the closest friend Bashir had on the station, and he had left shortly after Sisko’s departure to go teach at Starfleet Academy. While O’Brien had returned to the station briefly, and he had stayed in contact, the kind of distance between them drove home the fact that they were not in each other’s lives on a day-to-day basis as they once had been. Their conversations no longer consisted of what period conflicts they were going to simulate in Quark’s holosuites, but were more oriented around how Keiko and Molly and Kirayoshi were doing. They still touched on the large events in their lives, but the day-to-day concerns and banter were a thing of the past—but such was the way of friendships when so much distance came between them. While he hoped that their paths would once more come together on a more permanent basis, he knew that careers were rarely kind to the bonds of friendship.

Another friend of his, Odo, had returned to the Founders after the war had ended. Julian had often questioned the lack of compassion and understanding from the gruff Constable, but he had respected him, and he had learned to like him over time. He missed listening to the constant banter between him and Quark.

Another exit was Elim Garak, who he had spent a great deal of time with. He remembered many meals spent with the exiled Cardassian who managed to maintain the cover of a simple tailor for much longer than really necessary. But Garak had enjoyed the deception, and had made due as best he could amid people who were not his own when what he wanted more than anything was to return to Cardassia.

And then there was Ezri Dax. He still felt so many conflicting emotions when thinking about her. The fact that she had been interested in him romantically while Jadzia had rebuffed every effort he’d made to get closer to her proved that the Trill symbiont became fundamentally different when they joined with new hosts. He had enjoyed being with Ezri, given the fact that she remembered the friendship he’d had with Jadzia. The end of their relationship still saddened him since he knew that he still loved her, and she him. Ultimately, Ezri chose to end it between them because she believed their relationship was born out of unrequited feelings Julian had for Jadzia. It had been painful for both of them. She had also left the station recently after she accepted a promotion to captain and put into a specialty training program in preparation for captaincy of a new class of starship.

Bashir remembered when he had first come to Deep Space Nine. He had been so disappointed to be stationed at what he had referred to as the ass end of space. Over time, the fact that it wasn’t originally built by the Federation, and it wasn’t a starship seemed to fade. Sure, they did very little exploration, but that didn’t mean that interesting things didn’t come to them. Over the years, he’d been involved in many interesting situations, some of which had involved medicine while others didn’t. Despite that, it was the people he had come to appreciate the most, and with so many of them absent, he felt that the time had come to go elsewhere and try something different. Deep Space Nine would always be home for him, or at least one of the places in the universe he considered home, but lately it was a place filled with ghosts. There were the ghosts of the dead, the ghosts of the living, and the ghosts of the possibly not dead…

When Bashir had entered Starfleet, he had graduated second in his class at Starfleet Medical. He had wanted to serve aboard a starship and see the galaxy, and be on the frontier of medical science. Aboard Deep Space Nine, he had been able to do all of those things, just not in the way he’d imagined. He had also been caught up in a war that seemed pointless to him, lost people he knew and cared for, seen friends disfigured… There were too many ghosts here, and it was time to take his leave.

He looked in the dark quarters that now lacked the pictures of his friends, his belongings, and all the other things that had made this place home for the past ten years. It was time to leave. As if on cue, his comm badge chirped. “Nerys to Bashir.”

“Yes, Kira.”

“Your ride is here.”

“Thank you,” he said, feeling relieved that the Horizon arrived on time. “How long are they planning to stay?”

“I’m not sure. It looks like we’re loading a bunch of medical supplies onto the ship, so it’s safe to say they’ll be here a few hours—long enough for you to come to Ops and say goodbye.”

“Perfect,” said Bashir.

He walked out of his quarters, looked back one more time, and then exited into the corridor. It was silly, he thought, getting sentimental over living quarters. On the station, they were all pretty close to identical, and it was just a space constructed of metal, with furniture, carpeting, and machinery. His food replicator would not miss him after he was gone. No, this was the time to seek out the next adventure, and hopefully do some exploration that didn’t lead to interstellar war, pain, and death.

It took little time to make his way to the Prominade where he saw Quark up ahead. He allowed the Ferengi to approach while he continued on.

“So you were just planning on leaving without saying goodbye?”

“Don’t you have a bar to run?” Bashir asked with a smirk.

“Sure, and I have people who can take over for a while, so long as I don’t have my back turned on them for too long.”

“Well, I’m flattered you left your bar long enough to see me off. I’m about to go say goodbye to Nerys. Would you like to join me?”

“I wouldn’t miss it.”

They entered the lift that connected with the Ops center. A few moments later the doors opened and Bashir and Quark stepped out to a group of faces that were extremely familiar—faces that he didn’t expect to see at the same place and time again—at least not for many years. Miles O’brien and Keiko were here from Starfleet Academy. Garak had come here from Cardassia. Ezrie was here from the Aventine, which was not docked at the station. Even Jake Sisko had taken the time away from his writing career to be here. In addition to them, Kira Nerys sat at the command console while Nog stood at attention along the back wall.

“What are you all doing here?” Bashir asked, incredulous that so many would make the trip all the way back to the station just to see him off.

O’brien stepped up and slapped Bashir on the shoulder. “Apparently Starfleet considers us all heroes, so they wanted us all to come see you one more time before you left.”

“It took three days by shuttle to get here,” Ezrie said with a smile.

“And you actually wanted to come see me?” he asked.

“Julian, you’ll always be someone special to me. Let’s just leave the past in the past where it belongs.”

“And you, Jake, Starfleet can’t order you around. What are you doing here?”

“Remember about nine years ago when Nog and I did that trading? You know, yamok sauce for self-sealing stembolts for a chunk of land? Well, I felt like it was time to actually go take a vacation on that land. Maybe get some writing in while I’m there.”

“You’re sure the Noh-Jay Consortium will be alright with you being there?”

Jake looked to Nog, and a huge smile crossed the Ferengi’s face. “I think they’re fine with it.”

“And you Garak, what brings you back to the station?”

“Dear Doctor, I can only say for sure that I have been looking for an excuse to come back to the station, temporarily, for quite some time. When I learned that you were finally moving on, I felt the time was right.”

Bashir looked around the room, his heart much lighter than it had been moments before. “I can’t believe you all came back here for me. It was completely unnecessary.”

“On the contrary, Doctor,” said Garak as he presented Bashir with a wrapped rectangular package. “For years you were there for each of us. Now it’s our turn to repay the kindness.”

“I hope this isn’t yamok sauce,” Bashir said. He tore open the package, revealing icy blue liquid in a glass decanter. “Romulan ale?”

“Only the best for this occasion.”

“It turns out that the Horizon will be docked for a couple days,” said Kira deviously. “That gives you more than enough time to have a farewell party, and recover, before starting your new assignment. Captain Sheppard has already given it his approval.”

“Well, thank you all for coming,” Bashir said. “I have to admit that lately I’ve been feeling alone here without all of you. I’m glad that I don’t have to leave while still missing you.”

The presence of the friends who had moved on from the station was comforting, but that didn’t change the fact that there were still those who wouldn’t or couldn’t come back, even for this occasion. So many times he had looked out the windows to see the wormhole, knowing that Benjamin Sisko might very well be alive out there. Beyond that, in Dominion territory, was Odo, and he harbored no illusions that they would make a surprise appearance here. Be that as it may, it warmed his heart to see so many of his friends had come here to surprise him.