Two days of sprinting aboard Bismarck turned into two more days of sprinting aboard Argonaut, where the most exciting things Nathan could comment on were meeting Captain Carver Houston when he first boarded, then meeting the man again just before departing.

Argonaut reminded him far, far too much of the state of mind that certain captains and crews had fallen into during the Dominion War. And a quick check confirmed the suspicion he had as soon as he had stepped aboard. Captain Houston was, like himself, a survivor of that war. One who was forged in it and carried hard lessons from it with him forevermore. That the Federation needed a strong arm. That it needed to ensure its safety.

And after Mars, he’d been one of the rank and file of the hawks who had turned Starfleet inward. He hadn’t been an admiral issuing orders, or a politician making speeches. Just a front line captain speaking with other captains. Speaking with young officers. Patrolling the borders and keeping the threats at bay.

All while he, Nathan Kennedy, had left Starfleet. Not immediately after the war, but a few years before Mars. He’d stayed to help keep the numbers up, to train and guide the next batch of brave explorers. Then he’d needed time to heal. He didn’t return after Mars because he had commitments then. But after Frontier Day…

He’d felt the calling and returned to duty. To mentor the next generation.

But also because the exploration bug had bitten him once more.

He wasn’t entirely sure what sort of game Houston had been playing when Argonaut rendezvoused with Atlantis, but there had to be one. Instead of putting him on one of Argonaut’s shuttles and sending him across, Houston had requested one from Atlantis come to pick him up. And they’d barely cleared the proximity area around Argonaut before the ship had peeled away at full impulse before jumping to warp as quickly as possible.

“Rude,” the young pilot had said from the helm. “Oh, sorry, sir.”

“No no, Ensign, I don’t think you’re entirely wrong,” Nathan said, shaking his head at the patch of space where the Gagarin-class ship had just been. “Just perhaps consider the company you’re in next time?”

“Yes, Commander,” the young man said, then decided that paying complete and total attention to his flight controls was the best course of action.

Atlantis slowly came into being, from a spec light in the distance, to an indistinct smudge and eventually the grave and sleek lines of a Sovereign-class starship. She was orbiting the largest moon of a gas giant, both celestial bodies various shades of shockingly bright blue. Deep red and purple aurora crowned the moon as its magnetic field violently clashed with the far stronger field of the gas giant. The perfect location to stay hidden for a bit this close to the Breen border.

“Interesting neighbourhood,” Nathan said as Atlantis started to loom large out the window.

“One way to describe it, sir.” The ensign then pointed at a particular patch of space just past Atlantis. “Especially when we have visitors.” The patch looked normal, as normal as anywhere could be. But then, as a band of the aurora swept across that part of his vision, but farther away, he noticed the oddity. A smudging of the colours, a ripple of light and vague shifting of colours to a different hue.

“Knowing what I know of this ship’s recent history, it’s either Klingons or Romulans,” Nathan said. “The latter?”

“Here to pick up the Commander, Commander.” The pause between the repetition wasn’t much, but it brought a smile to Nathan’s face as the Ensign had stumbled on it. “Turns out cloaking devices and intense magnetic fields don’t play nice. But the Republic would prefer the Breen didn’t know they’ve come out this far to pick up a single officer. Or only in a high-speed courier.”

“What did you think of Commander Kendris?”

“Stickler for the rules. Firm, but fair.” All safe ways of describing a senior officer. “She wasn’t too bad. For a Romulan.”

“And what about Captain MacIntyre?” he asked as the shuttle lined up for final approach on the main shuttlebay.

“I, uh, never served with him, sir. I transferred aboard after he went over to Republic. But I’ve heard a few tales. Folks really liked him.”

“Well, let’s hope I can fill those boots.”

The last few minutes of the trip were in silence, broken by communications with the shuttlebay controller as they approached, then gingerly tractored the last part of their journey and set down on the decking without even the softest of taps. As the hatch opened, a whistle shrilled as Nathan stepped out onto the decking of the starship Atlantis. A collection of crewmen had assembled, all yellow shouldered, with only one red shouldered officer at the short parade.

“Permission to come aboard?” Nathan asked, looking at the young, dark-haired officer whose face he already knew. A young man who was just too perfect to be Mr Starfleet. Something had to be suspect about him, save even his own record noted he was above suspicion.

Which was even more so suspicious

“Permission granted,” Lieutenant Junior Grade Stirling Fightmaster answered back. The party all dropped to at-ease immediately. “Welcome aboard Atlantis, Commander Kennedy. The captain sends her apologises, but she has been indisposed. She has requested that I escort you to her, though.”

“That sounds ominous,” Nathan replied, stepping down the line and taking a moment to inspect the crewmen assembled. Three aside, all of them doing their best to look into the middle-distance and not acknowledge the man before them. “I take it these fine men and women are here to see my belongings get to where they need to go?”

“Of course,” Fightmaster answered in such a way as to confirm reality in the dullest, most routine way possible. As if officers were always asking him the obvious and it was just the natural order of things. “And after the captain, I’m to assist you in registering all of your command codes and authorisations with quartermaster and the ship’s computers.”

“Well then,” he said, finally smiling as he reached out and shook hands with Fightmaster. “Good to be aboard.” He turned on his heel to face the crewmen. “Oh, do be careful folks. Lots of rare, valuable and easily breakable goods in my,” he stopped to make an exaggerated count of his bag sitting on the floor of the shuttle, “two bags. Do be careful.” And then he was away, Fightmaster falling into stride beside him impossibly quick.

“Light packer, both soft bags. There isn’t anything breakable in either of them, is there?” the lieutenant asked as they passed through the shuttlebay’s doors into the ship proper.

“Just a couple of photo frames,” he answered. “Now, lead on Lieutenant, best not keep the captain waiting.”