One month later…

The bland, white apartment skyscraper, wet from the rain, stood among the other buildings near the center of the suburb closest to Starfleet HQ. Its vast column of glass and white-colored walls towered over the rest of the buildings and gave off a slight glow, even in the pre-dusk skies of San Francisco.

Vausees sat on the edge of the bed, gazing out of the bedroom window. Occasionally, shuttles flew past to destinations unknown as she stared, lost in thought. Her mind lingered on the briefing she and Debrah had just returned from. In the silence of the room, her thoughts reflected on the briefing while her body betrayed her. She gripped the edge of the bed, her knuckles turning white with tension as her nails penetrated the tough material of the blanket covering the bed.

A few hours earlier…

Vausees stood as a captain dressed in red entered the conference room to begin her briefing on the current state of the Federation. Her eyes glanced over the uniform that he wore, noticing how immaculate it was. She even noticed the shine on his four pips.

As he spoke, his voice was deep and gravelly. Vausees listened to the current events that had led up to both her and Debrah being pulled back into the fray and out of retirement. She hoped that she and Debrah’s decision to return to the federation and its current situation was not a mistake.

She continued to listen as he spoke of the events that had happened to the federation as a whole. She nodded when he spoke of the Dominion fleet, the Lost Fleet, that had reemerged from the Bajoran Wormhole and had caused issues for the federation. This incident prompted Fourth Fleet commander Admiral Ramar to rebel and dispatch forces to liberate and secure the frontier from the Dominion fleet.

When the captain spoke about the Borg and Admiral Picard’s actions, her chest swelled slightly. This feeling persisted until he mentioned the significant losses the federation had suffered, primarily from its senior ranks. She could feel the pain within the captain’s voice as he spoke. The pain was overwhelming, yet she maintained a neutral demeanor while listening to him.

He continued speaking, this time about the Orion Syndicate. He discussed the involvement of the USS Republic, Viscount Crashanburn, and the retrieval of a stolen Genesis Device from Hysperian pirates.

It wasn’t until he spoke of the Archanis Sector and the syndicate’s resources and threat level that she perked up, and flashes of memories cascaded to the forefront of her mind.

It had been nearly three years since she had heard that particular sector’s name and three years since she had felt the pain of that sector, or rather more pointedly, the pain of losing someone so critical to her. Trance.

Present time…

The light shower from the rain continued to beat against the window as she recalled the briefing. A hand came down on her shoulder as Debrah took a seat behind her on the bed, her legs curled up under her as she sat behind Vausees. Vausees looked back at her, her eyes red and rimmed with tears, but a smile was still in place on her lips as she tried to hide the pain from the memories that had resurfaced today.

Debrah could tell that her wife was trying her best to hold it together. The mention of Archanis had hit her hard, and she knew it.

“I’m here, my love.” Debrah expressed her presence by gently squeezing Vausee’s shoulder. She felt the tension within her wife’s shoulder muscles as she squeezed.

“I know,” Vausees replied as she reached up and rested a hand on Debrah’s. Her touch was gentle, and she hoped it was reassuring. “I know,” she repeated, trying to sound joyful but knowing that Debrah could see the pain and turmoil within her.

Later that night, after a long and stressful day, both women lay in each other’s embrace within the warmth of their bodies and under the covers of the bed. Debrah’s arms cradled Vausees as they slept together. Her touch was tender and caring, as well as protective.

Vausees stirs as she sleeps. Her eyelids flickered from side to side as she moved deeper into the much-needed REM cycle, or so she thought. Despite her peaceful appearance, she found herself trapped within her mind and the nightmare of the memories of Archanis IV. She was reliving that awful night: three years ago on Archanis IV, and tension from back then began to seep into her body as she slowly coiled in on herself and into Debrah’s cradling form. The muscles in her back tighten as she curls into a ball. Her nails bit deep into the soft flesh of her palms and would have drawn blood had not the silky fabric of the sheet that she was holding onto protected her.

The pain returned, vivid and raw, even though it was part of the nightmare and not truly there. It was a cruel reminder of the reality of that memory and how deeply that night had affected her even now. As she slept, her body tingled from her mind’s recollection of events, and suddenly, she jerked from the explosion of the door in her mind, in her nightmare, rustling the covers and causing Debrah to stir slightly with a soft groan and turn away, unaware that her wife was deep within a memory, within a nightmare.

Within her nightmare, she looked down at her side, and once more, the piece of the doorframe was there, lodged in her side, and blood was flowing out of the wound, and the burning, searing pain from the wound tore at her nerve endings. It evoked recollections of the agony that had previously rocked her core.

Vausees looked around, feeling herself dragged away, as she continued to relive this nightmare in her mind. The situation was the same as it had been before. Her crew’s voices were audible, albeit slightly muffled. Even the background noises—from the chaos of yelling and combat to the lighting—all seemed to be slightly droned out from what had happened all those years ago. As she moved her head about, the imagery had a blurred, almost slow-motion effect to it.

The nightmare that she was trapped in was so vivid, so visceral, that she couldn’t tell if it was reality or a dream, even though it was slightly droned out and muffled. She swore she could smell the smoke from the erupting battlefield and felt the scrapes as her body dragged backward.

That’s when she noticed the bright, white sheet, stained with blood, covering Trance’s body. She felt her heart stop as she knew that she was dead under that sheet. Pain and anger gripped her heart once more, just as they had on that day.

Jerking straight up, she screamed out Trance’s name as she woke from the nightmare. Tears spilled from the corners of her eyes. Sweat covered her body and had soaked her white sleeveless shirt completely. Vausees gazed around, her face and eyes filled with confusion as she struggled to identify her location. Her gaze finally settled on the activity next to her.

Debrah shot up with Vausees as she screamed, waking her, and instantly and instinctively wrapped her up in her arms and pulled her gently into the protective form of her body, comforting her as she rocked. This wasn’t the first time that she had had to comfort Vausees from a nightmare.

She had a good idea, or rather, she could tell from how Vausees was shaking and sobbing and covered in sweat as to which nightmare she had just awoken from.

Still rubbing her back and stroking her wife’s wet, sweat-soaked hair, she softly hummed a song that she found calmed Vausees. An old nursery song that she had picked up from Vausees mom, or rather a recording of the song sung by her mother.

Slowly, she could feel the shaking from the sobs subside as Vausees returned to sleep. Debrah lifted her leg, draped it over Vausees, and held her tightly as her wife returned to sleep. Vausees needed Debrah’s protective, motherly nature more than ever, even though she knew sleep would be a long time for her.

In the morning, Vausees stood under the soothing pulse of sonic jets in the shower. The nightmare, though faded, was still there at the forefront of her mind. As she stood there, she felt Debrah slip in behind her and then the soft, supple lips of her wife on her back. Small goosebumps rose on her skin, even in the warmth of the shower, at the intimate and tender gesture from her wife.

As they showered together, Vausees felt the effects of the nightmare slowly recede to the back of her mind; however, she knew the monster was merely in hiding, lurking in the shadows, waiting to emerge again. She was grateful to have someone who could help and support her during this delicate time in her life.

After they had showered and dressed in their uniforms, they headed to the headquarters personnel building and, after a few minutes, were allowed access to search for their former crew.

Pulling up the personnel files, they began searching: Trever Nief, Charles Tanner, and Kelsie Roberts’ files were shown on the monitors that they sat in front of.

It was good to see that those three had survived all of the recent events that had put the federation in its current state. Vausees was also glad to see that they stayed on active duty when she and Debrah had retired, so locating them would be simple. All they had to do was convince them to return to her command and meet them at Starbase 72 as soon as they could. As she looked at each name, a feeling of regret suddenly seeped into her mind for leaving them. Gently, she shook her head, and it was then that Debrah placed her hand on her shoulder, reassuring her that everything would work out in their favor and for the best.

After a few minutes of gathering the information on the three former crew members, they stood and headed for the exit. The monitors instantly shut down as they left. The monitors reverted to their previous state of powerlessness in the absence of a human operator.

Having returned to their appointed apartment, Vausees sat in front of the communication device built into the surface of the table in the sizeable living room. Plants shared the living space in vibrant and varying colors and sizes. Paintings and other decorations also contributed to the space’s lived-in and comfortable atmosphere. However, even with all of these luxuries designed to keep the area joyful and energetic, Vausees could only stare at the dark circular patch on the table as the device remained dormant and unused.

Debrah gently slipped her wife’s hand into hers as she stayed next to her. She knew that Vausees was going to have to do this on her own. After all, she was the captain, and they were her former crew members. Debrah also needed to see if Vausees was going to be capable of handling the command that was going to be required of her.

Vausees looked at the PADD that was in her hand, dark, except for the glowing LCARD edges. Reaching down, she gently tapped the dark screen, which came to life, full of color and information. On the PADD was the image of Trever.

“This is the moment,” she uttered aloud, primarily to herself, to reassure herself that it was now or never.

Reaching over, she punched in Trever’s command communique identification number and waited. The subspace networks echoed with silence as the request made its way to Trever’s station. As she continued to wait, she realized that she was going to have to repeat this step at least two more times. For a moment, dread gripped her, but her determination overcame it. Vausees squared her shoulders, and a smile slipped back onto her lips. Though deep within the recesses of her mind, she knew that the recent memories she had experienced lay there waiting for their time to resurface again.