Captain Patterson stepped into Shuttlebay One with Commander Pharah trailing closely behind her. The vastness of the space still struck her, no matter how many times she walked into it. It was the largest bay on the Destiny and was usually pristine, but now it had been transformed into a war engine’s throat. 

The bay was a symphony of coordinated chaos, each note a crewmember moving crates of ordnance, running diagnostic checks, and issuing confirmations over the hum of antigrav sledges. The distant buzz of force field generators added to the tense atmosphere.

She paused, taking a long look around. Despite the tension in her shoulders and the fatigue in her limbs, she found herself momentarily impressed. Teamwork was in motion. 

Unified, urgent, effective.

“Looks like a small Borg Collective in play,” Pharah muttered beside her, watching a group of engineers manoeuvre a fresh payload of mines toward the bay doors.

“Without the cybernetic implants,” Patterson replied, folding her hands behind her back as her gaze swept across the organised mayhem. “Let’s hope they can remain efficient in their duties.”

Alesyo noticed them and approached, tricorder in hand. The shimmer of the overhead lighting lit her Vissian features, and she smiled warmly. “Captain, Commander,” She greeted. “Welcome to the deployment stage.”

Patterson met her gaze, already glancing toward the mine staging area. “Status on the field?”

Gesturing toward the line of self-replicating mines being prepped for transport, Alesyo easily replied. “We’re on schedule. Barring any surprise visits from our Vaadwaur friends, we should have the minefield fully deployed and active within six hours.”

Patterson narrowed her eyes at the rows of sleek, almost ominous-looking mines. “Then let’s not give the Vaadwaur a single one to exploit.”

“I still can’t believe the commodore agreed to help them mine the aperture. It just doesn’t sit right with me,” Pharah voiced her unease.

“It’s a defensive perimeter designed with Talaxian and Rakosan input. Starfleet didn’t make this call in isolation.” Patterson answered, her tone calm but firm. “We promised the Haakonians we’d help the Talaxians secure their space. This is how we keep that promise. It’s the only thing the Talaxians and Haakonians could agree on after the battle. If we didn’t back it, they might have turned on each other instead of the Vaadwaur.”

“I get that,” Pharah said, her antennae twitching. “But a minefield? In a populated system?”

“A self-replicating minefield,” Alesyo corrected, though not unkindly. “And it’s been programmed to avoid civilian vessels. Its targeting matrix is precise and strictly Vaadwaur or other unauthorised military threats.”

Pharah remained unconvinced. “And what happens when someone starts poking at our replication tech? We’re just handing it over for everyone to scan and study.”

Before Alesyo could respond, a second figure joined them. Commander Johren stepped in from the side of the bay, brushing soot from his uniform sleeve. The Kellerun looked tired, but alert. “No one’s getting a look inside these mines,” Johren said, nodding toward the units. “The latest cloaking and sensor-scrambling tech makes sure of it. And if someone tries to pry one open, they’ll have much less to study afterwards. These aren’t the clunkers from the Dominion War. They’re smarter. Meaner and these little demons bite back if tampered with.”

Pharah grimaced. “Great. A minefield with a user manual. What could possibly go wrong?”

Johren raised a brow. “It’s a calculated one. With the Themis helping deploy the orbital weapons platforms with the Rakosans, we’re finally giving the Talaxians a fighting chance.”

Patterson nodded, her expression softening. “And after what the Vaadwaur did to the rest of the Haakonian fleet, they deserve that chance.”

A moment of silence passed between them, the air briefly heavy.

Pharah sighed. “By the time we arrived, the Order was practically shattered.”

“They held the line,” Johren pointed out. “The Vaadwaur didn’t take a single system.”

“Barely,” Pharah countered. “Most of their fleet is heavily damaged or destroyed, and their outposts are in rubble. It’s a shame we couldn’t have turned up sooner.”

Patterson’s gaze was resolute as she looked out at the mines, her thoughts distant. “They’re grateful we’re here now,” she said finally. “And they’ve accepted the Rakosan support, even if it’s uneasy. We need to capitalise on that. Fortify while we still can.”

She pulled a PADD from her hip and handed it to Johren. “Orders from Commodore McCallister. All ships in the squadron are to initiate coordinated battle drills within the next twelve hours. Ours begins immediately.”

Johren took the PADD and scanned it, eyebrows rising. “I suppose he didn’t think surviving a full-scale Vaadwaur assault counted as a drill?”

“He wants us sharper,” Patterson said. “Just in case the Vaadwaur regroup and strike again. I want you and Pharah to coordinate the drills.”

Johren rubbed the back of his neck, his eyes flicking toward the mines like they might detonate on protest. “Captain, with all due respect, I’d rather stay on the minefield oversight team. We’re still calibrating the deployment sequences. We’re laying mines through an unstable subspace corridor with collapsing eddies. One misaligned launch, and we seed an implosion field.”

“Alesyo will continue nicely,” Pharah said before Patterson could respond. “She and Evan will monitor the launch protocols.”

“Evan?” Johren blinked. “Wasn’t he still on Talax leading the relief ops?”

“He returned two hours ago. Counsellor Kandil has taken over humanitarian efforts. Doctor Rarta confirms we’ve got just over two hundred Talaxians in sickbay, and our triage centres are stable. The worst is past.”

Johren hesitated, clearly wanting to argue more, but the look Pharah gave him shut him down quickly. “Yes, ma’am,” he said, more quietly this time.

Patterson stared at the corridor wall, her jaw tight, as if bracing for an impact that hadn’t come yet. “I know it’s a lot. We’re stretched thin. But we need to be ready. No distractions. No assumptions that the worst is behind us.”

Alesyo offered a small, tired smile. “It’s just we’re all exhausted, Captain.”

“I know,” Patterson said, her expression softening just slightly. “But it comes with the uniform. So get it done.”

She turned to Pharah and nodded to indicate they were done here. 

As they exited the shuttlebay, the loud buzz of engineering activity faded behind the thick doors. The corridor outside was quieter, calmer, and more sterile. The soft hum of the ship’s systems felt almost peaceful in contrast to the controlled chaos they’d just left. 

Pharah walked beside her, silent at first, then glanced sideways. “If you don’t mind me saying, I’ve never seen you like that before,” the Andorian said. “You were a breath away from tearing into both of them.”

Patterson didn’t immediately reply. Her gaze stayed ahead, fixed on the end of the corridor like it held the answers she was still searching for.

“I realised something during that last battle,” she said finally, her voice quiet. “We’ve drifted. The crew, I mean. We’re still efficient. Professional. But not connected. Not like we used to be.”

Pharah tilted her head. “You think we’ve gone soft?”

“We’ve settled into the silence Zack left behind. Too quietly. Like we’re afraid making noise might break something fragile.” Patterson replied. “And then the Vaadwaur hit us, hard. We reacted, we fought, we survived, but there was hesitation. Doubt. People were second-guessing orders or waiting to act.” She stopped walking, turning to face Pharah fully. “Zack would’ve caught the slack before it ever formed. A nod. A look. People didn’t hesitate around him because he didn’t give them the chance. I need to do the same.”

“So you’re channelling your inner Bennet now?” Pharah asked, her lips twitching into a faint grin.

In return, Patterson allowed a soft smile, but there was a weariness behind it. “Something like that. I need to stop acting like he’s going to come back. I realised that after we destroyed our final Vaadwaur ship. This is my ship now. He’s gone, and I need to command it. Just like he would expect me to.”

She stepped into the turbolift after the doors opened for them. Pharah followed closely behind her.

“Deck One,” Patterson said aloud as they stood on opposite sides of the cart. 

As the lift began to rise, a quiet settled between them. Patterson watched the deck numbers climb. Each tick upward felt heavier than it should’ve. This ship still felt like his sometimes. The echoes of his command were everywhere. They were in protocol shortcuts, inside jokes, even the way the bridge crew shifted in their chairs.

“You think he would’ve done anything differently?” Pharah asked.

Patterson didn’t answer right away. “I think Zack would’ve yelled,” she said finally. “He would’ve reminded everyone that we’re Starfleet. That this isn’t a game. That lives depend on us doing the job without question. Without hesitation.”

Pharah nodded slowly. “And do you think they’d listen?”

“Oh, they would have, and I need them to do so now,” Patterson said, staring at the floor display as the levels ticked by. “Second chances are luxuries. Out here, we only get the one if we’re lucky. I intend to make it count.”

The turbolift slowed. Patterson looked up, her reflection ghosted in the polished bulkhead opposite her. It wasn’t Zack’s face staring back, but it was someone ready to lead. She was the captain now.

“So, can I ask, are we giving up on trying to work out why he threw us this far into the Delta Quadrant?” Pharah asked before the lift doors opened.

“For now, that’s on pause, but I think I’ve got a feeling why, and I’m going to hold back on any of that for now. I need to focus on being the Destiny’s captain and dealing with the issues at hand.” Patterson said with confidence as she stepped out onto her bridge.