Captain’s log, stardate seven-nine-four-oh-nine point two-one. The Nacene telepathic facility beneath the moon’s surface has been safely disabled. Further analysis reveals that it was intended as a developmental aid for Ocampa telepaths to interact with this world once they had fully colonised it. Its long-dormant systems misidentified our younger crewmembers as Ocampa, trapping them in a shared construct. Thankfully, all have returned with no lasting harm. The Orion is en route to begin further study. Sadly, though, this has meant that the Trabe colonisation project will be relocated. For now, I have given everyone the next couple of days off before we depart. 

“You know,” Parker said, leaning back in her chair with a warm smile, “you resolved that mess between the boys brilliantly.”

Beatrice, who was sitting opposite the counsellor in an armchair, tossed her hair back with mock flair. “You mean by telling them to kiss or kill each other?”

“I mean,” Parker said with a laugh, “you got three emotionally compromised young men to work together. That’s impressive.”

Beatrice’s cocky smile faded just a touch. “Thanks.”

The two of them were sitting in what had become a makeshift counsellor’s office. It was a storage bay, but with two armchairs and a plant pot on a small coffee table, it appeared relaxing enough for Parker to do her work in here some of the time. 

Parker leant forward in her chair and squeezed Beatrice’s hand with reassurance.  “It worked. But I want to know something, Beatrice. In the hallucination, when it began in the woodlands, what did you see? Before the all white medical room, before the stairwell, before everything else.”

Beatrice shifted, her smile faltering just a little. “I saw myself,” she admitted. “Failing. Not in the sense of being kicked out of Starfleet or sent home. Just standing there, while everyone else mocked me for not being good enough. My instructors, the senior officers I look up to? They were disappointed. I couldn’t live up to them.”

Parker’s expression softened.

“I’ve always admired my superiors,” Beatrice continued. “I watch them work and think, how the hell am I ever supposed to match that? I guess I’m scared I never will.”

Parker spoke as she wrote a few notes. “Go on.”

“In the beginning, in that hallucination,  I saw myself failing. Not just washed out of Starfleet, but disappointing everyone I admired. Not living up to them.”

“Everyone?” Parker asked gently.

Beatrice nodded slowly. “Everyone. As I said, I’ve always looked up to everyone. Some of the greatest Starfleet captains and admirals have been my idols. Admiral Janeway, for one. She’s been my hero since I could crawl. I had a poster of her in my room when I was growing up. I always told myself, ‘If I can be half the officer she was, I’ll have made it.’”

Parker smiled with understanding. “Admiral Janeway didn’t become who she is by following a template. She broke rules, challenged expectations, and relied on her instincts when others could not. Just like you did.”

Beatrice blinked. “Me? Really?”

“You trusted your gut,” Parker said. “You saw your friends spiralling, and instead of shutting down or stepping back, you threw humour and truth at the problem. You brought clarity when it mattered. That’s what a leader does.”

Beatrice’s expression softened, just a touch of vulnerability flickering in her eyes. “You think Admiral Janeway would be proud?”

Parker’s voice was confident. “I think she’d be very proud.”

Beatrice gave a playful grin. “Good. Because I fully intend to have coffee with her one day. Black, no nonsense.”

Parker laughed. “I’ll see if I can pencil it into her schedule.”

“I’d appreciate it,” Beatrice paused as she scratched the back of her neck. “As I said, I’ve always admired my superiors. I watch them work and think to myself, how the hell am I ever supposed to match that? I guess I’m scared I never will.”

“You don’t have to match them,” Parker said gently. “Starfleet isn’t a one-size-fits-all institution. What matters is your thinking, your instinct, your leadership.”

Beatrice gave a dry laugh. “My leadership? You mean my suggestion to the boys that they start a throuple or we will all die?”

“You defused a powder keg of emotion using honesty and humour. You reminded three emotionally confused young men that they cared for each other and helped them work together as a team. That’s leadership. That’s empathy. That’s Starfleet.”

Beatrice blinked and looked down, fiddling with her nails. “You really think I’m good enough?”

“I know you are,” Parker said. “And so do they. They followed you.”

“Thank you, counsellor,” Beatrice said with a genuine smile.

“You’re welcome, Beatrice.”

Hidden within the inner maze of the Astra’s Jeffries tubes, Alfie leaned against a low ledge facing a small circular viewport. The moon spun slowly below, peaceful and pale. No one from this distance would have imagined the nightmares it could bring. 

Jordan climbed in after him, brushing a few dark curls back from his brow. “Still hiding up here?”

“Just thinking,” Alfie replied. “It’s quiet.”

Jordan settled beside him, his shoulder brushing against Alfie’s. They watched the stars for a moment in silence. 

“That was a weird adventure,” Jordan murmured.

“Weirder than our usual?” Alfie teased.

“Maybe. You know,” Jordan said, glancing over, “for all Beatrice’s insanity, she wasn’t completely wrong.”

Alfie smirked. “Don’t say that. She’ll get ideas.”

Jordan nudged him. “I mean about Scott. And us. I didn’t mean for it to happen, Alfie. It was confusing. We were on a break, and—”

“I know,” Alfie said, his voice softer now. “I haven’t exactly been easy to be with since we joined the Astra. Since leaving the Odyssey, I’ve been so lost in figuring out who I am away from home, from my parents, from everything. I pushed you away. I shouldn’t have. I’m sorry.”

“I never stopped loving you,” Jordan said.

“I know, and I never stopped loving you as well”, Alfie replied. He took a breath. “And for the record, I get it. Scott’s kind, strong and stupidly handsome.”

Jordan raised an eyebrow. “Wait. Do you have a crush on Scott?”

Alfie flushed slightly. “No. I mean, maybe a tiny one. Who wouldn’t? Those shoulders, those dimples.”

Jordan laughed. “So we both fell for him.”

“Doesn’t mean we need to make it a thing,” Alfie said quickly. “I don’t want a throuple. I want you. Just you.”

Jordan’s eyes met his. “Same. Just us. No Scojolfie.”

Alfie groaned. “Please don’t say that name. Beatrice will never shut up if she thinks she is right.”

“She’ll be unbearable.”

“We’ll have to take it to our graves.”

They both laughed before Alfie leaned in and pressed his forehead to Jordan’s. “We’ll be okay?”

Jordan smiled. “Yeah. We will.”

They kissed. It was slow and deep, sharing that they wanted to be together again. 

Outside, the Orion slipped into orbit beside the Astra, catching the sun just as their lips parted.

Captain Niro was sitting in his room when the door chimed softly. He looked up from a report and said, “Enter.”

Midshipman Scott Florrick stepped in, uniform crisp, expression carefully composed.

“Mister Florrick,” Niro said with a nod. “What can I do for you?”

Scott approached, offering a PADD. “Sir. I’m requesting a transfer. Captain Mo’Lee-Krabreii of the Orion has an opening. I’d like to take it.”

Niro glanced at the PADD but didn’t touch it. “The Orion? I thought you were committed to completing your training here on the Astra?”

“I was,” Scott said, then added, “But my old squad leader from the Academy is posted there. They’ve offered mentorship.”

Niro leaned back. “You’ve still not answered me, Midshipman.”

Scott cleared his throat. “After what happened on the moon, sir, I think I should complete my training elsewhere.”

“Why?” Niro probed. “You’ve recovered. You patched things up with Alfie and Jordan. So why leave?”

Scott hesitated, looking out the viewport for a moment before speaking.

“I care about them both. I really do. But everything’s changed. They’ll be back together soon enough, if they’re not already, and that’s good. But staying here, it’s just going to get complicated again, sir. I need to focus on my last set of studies. I need a clean slate.”

“You know,” Niro said carefully, “you’ve proven yourself under pressure. You were brave, loyal, and honest. I’ve seen far less mature behaviour from full lieutenants. Are you sure this isn’t just guilt?”

Scott looked down, his voice quieter. “Maybe it started as guilt. But now it’s about growth. I need space to figure out who I am without them. And maybe be more than the guy who caused the drama.”

Niro finally took the PADD and reviewed the transfer form. “You know I’ll miss your calm presence in drills.”

Scott smiled faintly. “Thank you, sir.”

Niro sighed. “If you’re certain this is what you want.”

“I am.”

The captain keyed in his approval code. “Then it’s yours. Just promise me one thing.”

“Sir?”

“Don’t let this be an escape. Let it be a beginning.”

Scott straightened his posture and gave a respectful nod. “Aye, sir.”

He turned toward the door, hesitated, then wiped a tear quickly from his cheek before stepping through.

There was no fanfare, no farewell party. Just a quiet walk to the barracks to collect his things, and a silent beam-out to a new chapter aboard the Orion.