A Line in the Sand: A Star Trek: The Edge of Midnight Fan Work

I was in a foul mood as I approached the conference room. The gravity of what was happening here was starting to weigh on me, and I was more and more certain those Orion freighters hanging just on the other side of the T’kuvma line were actually slavers. The colony’s administrator's evasiveness was also grating on me, this was not how citizens of the Federation were supposed to act. When we had arrived back on the Resolute, I had gone to my quarters to prepare some notes on what I wanted to discuss with my senior staff and blow off a little steam. Unfortunately, the time to have that conversation had come and I was still unsettled. Taking a minute, I paused to center myself and adjust my uniform. I was still new to this crew, and coming into this meeting already angry meant there was a chance I could lose my self-control which would be disastrous. Andorians have a reputation for having short tempers, and unfortunately, I embodied the stereotype. The war had not helped with this trait of mine, and I had only become angrier since the end. This was something I had tried to work through with Starfleet's councillors, but few of them had seen frontline service in the way members of Starfleet security had. This made them and their solutions difficult to relate to. I had privately given up after third recommended Vulcan meditation practices, though I still put on enough of a show to maintain my service eligibility. I had a sneaking suspicion Starfleet was short on Captains, and I would have been retired if we were still a peacetime organization. I needed to dig deep today though, this was a situation for cool heads and I knew I could rely on my officers to perform despite how I was feeling. Clicking my heel as if I was on a parade ground, I strode into the briefing room.

Nimitz class ships were designed for commodores and admirals to coordinate fleet actions and the conference room was suitably grand to reflect this. Three massive windows inclined at a slight angle to account for the hull shape filled the wall opposite the door. These proved a picturesque view of the New Jerusalem colony which loomed large in them. The other walls were adorned with screens able to call up information at a touch, whether it be ship status reports, library computer information or even actual bridge stations in an emergency. The soft blue glow of these consoles mingled with the off white of the ship's lights to create a shade akin to sun shining through an ice cave back on Andoria. This is why I favored spending time in this room over even my own quarters. The room's floor was upholstered with a thick red carpet, which was at odds with the functional grays and beiges that adorned the rest of the ship. The rest of the room was dominated by a large Tellarite oak table in the shape of a Starfleet delta. Beautiful as well as functional, its perfectly polished dark wood surface contained multiple holo projectors, data pad displays and multiple ports for Duotronic tapes. Seated around it were my senior staff, minus Lieutenant Risi, whom I had ordered to remain on the planet. Though I did value the Lieutenants input, given my background I felt that I would be able to speak to matters of Security and Tactical. My officers swiveled in their chairs to face me. I could see Commander Fane open his mouth to speak and I raised my hand.

“At ease everyone, this isn't a formal briefing, I want to get everyone's input on the situation first.” I wanted to set the tone for the conversation, let them know this was a casual discussion where they could speak their minds. The time for directives and orders would come later. I looked down at my notes for a moment before speaking again, bringing them up to speed. My operations officer, Lieutenant Sally Whitman whistled as I finished outlined the situation. A recent Academy graduate, the Resolute was her first posting as a department head. Fortunately, she excelled at it, and I was grateful to have her on board. Her ability to hold and analyze multiple streams of information in her head simultaneously was incredible to watch and made her an outstanding problem solver. I was very interested to hear her position on the situation below.

“It seems to me like we have two problems,” She continued. “The first is the immediate needs of the refugees as well as the need to reduce the tension between them and the colonial administration. The second is we need to get to the bottom of how this could go so wrong.” Succinct and to the point. I nodded approvingly.

“I cannot believe they were foolish enough to commit a plan to sell out thirty thousand people to save themselves to an official record and then careless enough to allow it to leak!” Interjected my chief engineer Lieutenant Commander Bray Glov Gronnahk. A Tellarite and a career spacer, he had enlisted in Starfleet as a crewperson instead of going through the Academy and had been promoted all the way to Chief Petty Officer before attending officers school to expand his career options. He was often blunt and to the point like most of his species, but he ran what I considered to be the tightest and most disciplined engine room in all of Starfleet. I took great pride in him and his work, even if we didn’t always see eye to eye. This response had been an example of his characteristic bluntness, though it had also given voice to what I and no doubt most of my officers were thinking. Having it out in the open would allow us to freely discuss it. He continued speaking.

“This violates Suliban rights to Federation citizenship and the spirit in which President Th’rhahlat granted that citizenship. Captain I was on Starbase 10 in 2259, I helped organize the logistics of Task Force Dynamo. I saw the faces of the people who made it, the fear and the relief. I’ll be dead in the void before I allow anyone else to be taken into slavery.” He pounded his fist on the table for emphasis.

“Bray, I don’t think it was meant like that.” Commander Marcus Fane replied. His deep, almost melodious voice was steady. Like me, Commander Fane was a veteran of the Klingon war, having served aboard the USS Clake at the Battle of the Binary Stars, followed up by coordinating FGF and Starfleet Security operations in multiple theaters after that ship's destruction. He had an intuitive grasp of command and was both well-liked and respected by the crew. I had no doubt he would have his own ship soon. He had also served with Bray before, and they had a friendly, informal relationship.

“Oh, and how did they mean it?” Bray retorted.

“I agree with you that it was a stupid thing to do, but they probably tasked their cabinet to come up with all options and someone took that all a little overzealously.” He elaborated, leaning back in his chair and striking a casual grin before continuing. “Never attribute to malice which can be adequately explained by stupidity right?” Bray snorted.

“It doesn't matter what they intended. They did it, and it leaked. They caused this problem but are clearly too proud to see that and try to actually make amends.” Bray replied, folding his arms across his chest.

“That's similar to what I’m concerned about as well.” Added my ship's doctor, his soft voice barely filling the space of the conference room. Lieutenant Commander Allan Truong never spoke much during staff meetings, content to let us reach consensus and return to his patients and projects. A first class physician and a consummate researcher otherwise, he would sometimes break with his standard pattern when the discussion pertained to medicine or something he felt strongly about. I leaned forward, intent on hearing what he had to say.

“Preliminary reports from my teams show patterns of malnutrition, exposure injuries, and sanitation related illnesses affecting the Suliban we have examined so far. Their living conditions are poor by any standard, with some of the outermost structures constructed solely of scrap metal. Their access to clean water and waste facilities is intermittent and they rely on the colony entirely for food. I understand that they are recent arrivals and that very few frontier colonies could support an added thirty thousand beings at short notice, but I would liken their living conditions to more of a prison camp than Federation colonial citizens.” He paused a moment, collecting his thoughts, before tenting his fingers and continuing. “All of that I could understand on some level, but then there are the injuries. We would expect some level of deprivation based violence based on their living conditions, but in addition to that we’ve seen stun baton neuropathy, photonic flash grenade induced blindness, and even phaser burns. I doubt the refugees possess any meaningful amount of those weapons, so we should conclude that these wounds were inflicted by colonial law enforcement.” That last sentence hung in the air like a dark cloud. Administrator Rator had mentioned rioting and violence, but this confirmed my fears about the local security. Added to that Doctor Truong's report on their living condition and how it contrasted with the opulence of the administration buildings I had witnessed was causing my anger to return in force. I stole a glance at Lieutenant Foro, she had been on the surface with me and had seen the same luxury I had. Her eyes met mine and I could see the sadness there, mixed with something else. Guilt perhaps, at enjoying the botanical marvels of the colony. I decided to speak with her after this meeting. I didn't want her to feel her passion was tainted by the action of the colonial administration.

“That segues into something else I wanted to bring up, Captain.” Lieutenant Whitman spoke again, looking up from a display she had been reading while listening. “Our security officers have been reporting that the refugee movement in the colony is being controlled. Ostensibly it's in the name of public order, but it appears a system of checkpoints and a curfew have been put in place. Lieutenant Risi has already removed all of the local security from these checkpoints and replaced them with our crew, but he is asking permission to begin dismantling them.” This was doing nothing to help dampen my thunderous anger. This is not how Federation colonies acted.

“It seems,” I hissed, my anger finally getting the better of me. “That I will need to have another discussion with Administrator Rator about the proper conduct of Federation officials.”

“Not to be too much of a devil's advocate here, but we need to understand where the colony's administration is coming from.” Commander Fane said. I glared at him without realizing it and he held up his hands before continuing. “I am not condoning anything here, but when we discuss this with their administration we need to come with an understanding of their mindset. These are very scared people, and they have good reason to be. The frontline of a conflict they have no part in and certainly didn't choose to become involved in has suddenly arrived at their door. This paired with their refugee crisis is driving them to make rash reactionary decisions. We don't have to condone it, but we have to be empathetic to their fears while we try to correct their behavior.” He was right of course, but it still rankled me. The Federation was not an uncaring bureaucracy, they could have asked for help sooner.

“Alright, Doctor Truong, Lieutenant Whitman, I want both of you to coordinate a full response to this humanitarian crisis. Take whatever personnel you need, security excluded, and any resources. Coordinate with the Aurora if you need to.” It was time for me to make some decisions and us to actually act. I continued.

“Commander Fane, please take charge of the overall mission on the surface, get access to the colony's security logs and help us build a timeline of what's been happening. Commander Foro, I would like you to remain on board and begin working on a proposal for long term improvements we could make to Suliban’s living conditions. I will be returning to the surface to discuss these revelations with their administration again.” I growled out the last bit.

“Commander Gronnahk, a moment of your time please.” I added, standing. The rest of my senior officers filed out of the conference room. The Tellarite approached me. He only stood as tall as my chest and had to look up to meet my eyes, but the man still projected an intense air of confidence that only someone who's as damn good at their job as he was could. I could tell he wasn't sure why I had asked him to remain behind, I hoped he didn't expect that I was going to scold him for his earlier outburst.

“Commander Gronnahk, Bray,” I smiled. “It's nothing bad, I just don't want the rumor mill churning so keep this between us. Could you reach out to your friends on Starbase 10 and at FEDAC discreetly? I would like to know what our options are for evacuating the Suliban if this spirals out of control.” I knew he would give me whatever answer was provided to him honestly and that this was a task that would both let him feel like he was contributing and would let him take out his frustration by shaking the chain of command until someone helped him. A grin lit up his pugnacious face.

“It would be a pleasure, Captain. I’ll get us the help we need.”

“Outstanding Commander!” He turned and strode out of the room. I took a moment and absent-mindedly flicked through a few of the technical reports that had been presented on the table projector. It really did paint a bleak picture of what was happening on the surface. I debated what I should do when I returned to the surface. Should I withhold the replicators, use them as a bargaining chip to get them to see reason? That would likely end up crueler to the regular citizens of the colony who hadn't considered these terrible ideas or committed them to the record. Or should I just come down on them with the full authority of the Federation Council and damn the consequences? That was certainly an appealing choice, but one that led to Admiralty review boards, stints in the New Zealand prison colony and new regulations being unofficially named after you. Maybe Marcus was right, and this called for a gentle and understanding hand. Well, had I wanted that I should have asked him to speak to the colony and not decided to do it myself. Whatever I decided on, it was going to take some time to prepare. There were better places to work than standing in an empty conference room. I set out for my quarters.

The captain’s quarters on many of the older Eaves-Beyers drive ships were small, much smaller than the new Marvick drive ships, owing to the added space freed up by their superbly efficient systems. Mine was no exception to this, it even lacked a door to separate my sleeping area from my office. It did have a private head at least, which I adored. I will never miss the dormitory life of the junior officers. That private head was my destination. I needed a shower, a fresh uniform and a few minutes to myself. I deposited my old uniform in the refresher and stepped into the shower. Ice cold, like home. Lingering for some time, I started to put together what I was going to do. Eventually I settled on approaching this with honesty, laying out everything we knew and telling them how it was going to change. I was going to make them do better whether they liked it or not, and that wouldn't be possible if I was brow beating them or forcing them into ultimatums. I stepped out of the shower and wrapped myself in a towel, before realizing something was chiming in the other room. Shit that was bridge comms.

“Oh, what now.” I groaned to myself, furiously drying my hair. I rushed to my desk without thinking and flipped the communicator switch. I hoped I didn't sound too out of breath. “Go for the Captain.”

“Ma’am, I have Captain Aleya of the Aurora on the line for you, apparently something is wrong on one of those Orion freighters we’ve been tracking.” It was my communications officer. I rolled my eyes, happy to not be on video comms. I could never get a moment of peace on this ship.

“Put her through.” I sighed, turning away to grab a new uniform. Out of the corner of my eye I saw the screen above my desk spring to life.

“Catch you at a bad time Niah?” Captain Aleya’s voice chirped out of the speaker. Shit, my comms officer had been on audio, but she was on video, and I was just wearing a towel! I spun, blushing a deep blue and sprung back into my chair. “Relax,” she replied giggling, “I’m in my quarters too.”

“Captain Aleya.” I murmured, not able to make eye contact with her and still blushing furiously, my antennae flickering wildly.

“Oh, we’re being formal now, Captain Zh'kaarrin” She laughed again, stressing the word, Captain. “We used to share quarters, it's not like its anything I haven't seen before,” she continued, grinning from ear to ear. We had shared quarters back on the USS Antioch, when I had been a security lieutenant and she a pilot. I had known Captain Cserr Aleya for a long time, she had been a year behind me in the Academy, and we had shared a few postings in our time as junior officers, despite her being in the command track and I being in operations. A Caitian, she was eminently dependable and a great friend, even if we hadn't seen each other in person since 2256. It was startling to see her return so easily to her good natured teasing and easy camaraderie after everything. The war had been as awful for her as it had been for me, worse in some ways even. She had lost her husband in the Klingon attack on Starbase 1 and her continued service in Starfleet after the fact had estranged her from his family and they had taken guardianship of her two children who she rarely saw now. We had kept in contact after the war, but the life of a Starfleet Captain left little time for friendships. I was happy to be assigned to this mission with her and was selfishly hoping it would have allowed us some time to catch up.

“Sorry Cserr, you just caught me at an awkward time. We aren't junior officers anymore, and I’ve gotten used to the privacy.” I replied, finally making eye contact with her image on my desk screen. “I had been hoping to steal a few minutes for myself. It's a disaster down there and I need some time to decide how I want to handle it.” This was a half-truth, as I had already decided how I was going to approach this. What I actually needed was some time to calm myself and get away from everything for a bit. Her smile softened, the teasing light gone from her eyes.

“Niah, you have to make time for yourself too. You can trust your crew and they don't need you running on empty.” She had clearly heard what I had left unsaid. I don't want you to worry about this,” she continued, “I know most of your crew is already deployed, The Aurora can handle it.”

“Handle what?” I replied.

“Oh right!” The teasing was back. “I didn't just call you to ogle you, though damn, you’ve been taking care of yourself at least.” I felt her eyes pass over me, and I couldn't help but blush again and look away. I did keep up a strict exercise regimen and I knew on some level that others found me attractive, but it was still strange to hear it from one of my oldest friends.

“You need to learn how to take compliments, Niah.” She giggled again. “But down to business. One of those Orion freighters has put out a general distress call, something wrong with their warp engines. Now you know and I know this is probably a trap, but if it is one, it's one of the most believable I’ve seen. My chief engineer confirmed the fault and doesn’t think that this could be faked with sensor ghosts, so if this isn't the real deal they're putting themselves in significant danger just to trick us. We’ll be careful, before you say anything. I have good people, we’ll be safe.”

“I won't tell you to be safe, Cserr.” I sighed, “and of course I trust the Aurora’s crew to handle this. I just really don't like the timing of this. I’ll stay on board the Resolute while you investigate, in case you need help. That colony can wait.” I couldn't keep the venom out of my last words. More and more kept piling up. “But if anything looks off, or just feels wrong…” I trailed off. Honestly, I wasn't sure what I would have wanted her to do. Call us for help? That would undermine her Captaincy and make everything we had just said a lie. Maybe this was just my concern for an old friend, letting her know she wasn't on her own out here.

“I won’t do anything stupid if that's what you're thinking.” A sour look crossed her face and her voice lost some of its playful tone. “We aren't those same kids anymore.” Oh, so that's how she took it. When we had been on our shore leave to celebrate the Antioch’s first five year mission. Having just been freshly promoted, we had joined a gaggle of other junior officers on Starbase 16 and hit the strip. What had followed was a half remembered blur of dancing, body shots, a brawl with a pack of Kzinti, more dancing, very embarrassing holo photos of us climbing a statue of Zephram Cochran and ended with her facing a pregnancy scare. I had admonished Cserr the next morning, primarily over a warp core breach of a hangover but also because it was really the first time I had ever let myself go. I kept referring to the night as just a vague “doing something stupid” rather than addressing the parts of it I regretted. That phrase had stuck. Now whenever one of us had a rash, risky, or just plain bad idea we just said that we were “doing something stupid.” The other always knew what that meant. However, that is not what I had meant here.

“I don't mean it like that," I replied, my voice barely above a whisper. “I just do want you to be safe. You’re a good Captain Cserr, and you’ll do fine. It would just be a loss for Starfleet if something happened to you.”

“Oh, I’m a good Captain? It would be a loss for Starfleet if something happened to me?” She stressed the words Captain and Starfleet, and I knew exactly what she meant by it. She was able to pick up on what I had tried to say at least. I can shout down a charging Klingon warrior or debate a Zakdorn tactician, but always lose my way with words around people I care about. At least we had known each other long enough to be able to pick up on things like that.

“You know what I mean.” I replied, averting my eyes. Changing the subject, I continued. “How long until the Aurora reaches those freighters.” I could see her checking the clock on her display.

“Looks like I have just under a half an hour.” That gave me pause, maybe I actually could take a few minutes for myself with a friend.

“Let me change and clean up and I’ll call you back. If I’m going to stay aboard, then I can spare a few minutes so we can actually catch up. Call you back in ten?”

“Sure!” she was smiling again. I disconnected the call. Alright, I had half an hour to get presentable, clean up this puddle I’d left around my chair and hopefully have a few minutes to spend with my friend. I went back to the head to get a fresh towel but paused in front of the mirror. I hadn't had a chance to look at myself after getting out of the shower, so I took a few minutes to self evaluate and apply my makeup. Starfleet has official regulations for personalization like makeup, though I’ve never seen them applied out of the most formal events. The Federation is made up of too many member worlds to hold to stricter de jure standards than “look your best” around things like personal appearance. This, much like the uniform guidelines, I was grateful for. While I hated the skirt and was glad to never wear it, I did like that I could show a bit of myself with my face. I also found it relaxing, I could just be present in a moment without the burdens of command or Starfleet weighing me down. I thought back to the reflection I had seen staring back at me from the viewscreen earlier and shuddered. I have no choice about getting older, but I could probably sleep more, though today eyeshadow would solve the problem for me. Lingering only to comb the side part back into my hair I took my fresh towel back to my desk.

My chair was soaked through, so I threw the towel down around it to sop up what I had dripped on the floor. I wouldn't be sitting there while it dried, so that left my bed. I changed into my underclothes and laid a fresh uniform so it wouldn't get wrinkled. Snatching my personal PADD from my nightstand, I opened a channel to the Aurora and after a few seconds, my friend's face filled the tiny screen.

“Good your back and you're dressed. So, anything you want to talk about? How's the family? How's the new ship treating you? Anyone on the crew I know? Are you seeing anyone?” she launched into a string of questions before I could open my mouth.

“Fine, last I checked, though one of my mom’s was sad I missed the big clan reunion a few months ago. Said she would have loved to parade her Captain daughter in front of the rest of the family. Honestly, it makes me glad I missed it.” I replied. It wasn’t entirely true, I did love all four of my parents and I did miss them. I just didn't like being a piece in my Zhavey’s eternal competition with her friends to have the most prestigious offspring. She had been putting more pressure on me since one of her friends Chei’s has been made a general in the Andorian Imperial Guard and it was absolutely stifling me. I had no interest in explaining this or the complexities of Andorian families to my friend though, frankly we didn't have the time.

“Otherwise, the ship is fine as well, she's holding up well for an old Eaves-Beyer. I’m happy with the crew's performance so far as well, a lot of them knew each other, transferred in from the Concord when she was sent for refits. Obviously, I’m nervous if we run into some top of the line Klingon ship or the like, but the Resolute gave a good accounting during the war and I’d expect her to today as well. I don't think you know anyone on the crew, no one on the senior staff mentioned that they knew you.” I let that last sentence hang for a bit, to see if she was going to mention anyone she knew.

“And my last question?” She smirked. What had she asked? Oh right. I sighed.

“No Cserr, I’m not. The fleet doesn't leave a lot of time for that and those bars on my wrist set me apart from the rest of the crew, so that severely limits my possible candidates. After the war I’ve just been feeling…well driven to make sure no one ever has to endure something like that again. It's consuming me, if we’re being honest. Plus, mom wouldn't be happy if I didn't come home with an Andorian or three and that's just something that won’t happen.” My friend didn't need to know all the details of why I wasn't interested in a relationship with my own species. It was a complicated secret we barely shared with Starfleet medical, let alone outsiders without a reason to know. Cserr already knew a bit from my complaining when I was younger about the partners my Shreva tried to pick for me, but this was a really sore spot for me.

“You really need to make time for that. I know it's shitty for you and your parents, but you just need to tell them why. They love you, they will understand.” She seemed disheartened but understanding. I had no interest in going into how some Andorians, including my Charan, were lobbying to make what I wanted illegal for the good of the species.

“Can we please talk about anything else?” I asked. My nonexistent love life was a sore spot and I wanted to get off the subject.

“Sure, show me your quarters, I can't wait to see how much bigger it is than mine.” I sat up and flipped my PADD around so she could take it all in. She whistled. “Well, it's bigger, but not by much. Also have you not unpacked? Where's all your stuff?” I spun the PADD back to face me.

“Left most of it on Starbase 10.” I shrugged. “The war kind of put all of that in perspective to me. What's actually important and all. I keep what matters with me.” As I said this stood up and crossed over to my locker and opened the door. I turned the PADD to face the inside of the door and the collection of photos and memento’s I had secured to it. I swept the PADD in a wide arc, letting her take it all in, and I could overhear her reacting to some of them.

“Oh look, that was the one I took when you crashed my class's grad party with that case of Andorian ale! And there’s us on the statue! Why did you keep that one? There's the one Frankie took of your first time in command of a watch on the Antioch, I have never seen you so scared. You were so worried you were going to screw up you spent the whole watch ramrod straight in that chair looking like you were going to throw up. Ha, there's you with what's her name, you know she was head over heels for you right? Oh look, there's the four of us in 2256 before the war started.” She trailed off when she got to the next picture. I heard a very quiet “oh” and quickly turned the PADD back. I had forgotten that one was there.

“I’m sorry, I should have warned you.” I said, unable to meet her eyes.

“It’s alright, you said you kept what was important, and he mattered to all of us. I’m just happy you have such a happy memory to see every time you're in here.” Her eyes were downcast, and I could see she was fidgeting with her hands at her desk. I had not meant to drag this up at all especially as we were trying to have the closest any Captain could come to a break. She was right, it was a happy memory, one of our happiest. It was a picture from her wedding day. Her husband's best man had been called to emergency duty as so many in Starfleet often are at the absolute last minute, and he had asked me to take his place. I didn't exactly understand human weddings at that point, but I agreed, and we had spent the entire night before the event trying to find me a matching tux and tie for the role. Of course, we had neglected to even tell Cserr about this and she spent the entire morning trying to find me for her bridesmaids party. Apparently, it's bad luck in human traditions for the bride to see the groom before the ceremony and she had never thought to even ask him. The photo was of her walking down the aisle at the moment she had realized that I was standing next to her soon to be husband and completely out of uniform for her bridal party. She had stomped up the aisle, not all in time with her music and demanded to know why he had stolen me from her. They smoothed it over quickly at the altar while I stood there trying not to lose my composure at just how funny it all was. Later she had told me in confidence that she was really nervous and me not being where I was supposed to be just a good outlet for all that energy and had really helped her calm down and enjoy the rest of it. They had also gotten me back a few months later, I still had a rather embarrassing tattoo as a permanent reminder of that night.

“I miss him too, we all do.” I said, trying to soothe her feelings. It was true, we all missed Hiroshi.

“Thanks Niah, for showing me that. I get so lost in all the stuff no one else saw. The arguments, the deployments apart, the long nights not knowing, the custody battle after.” She sniffed and took a second to collect herself before continuing. “It's nice to know that some people remember the best times we had with him.” Her door chimed.

“Well, that's my five minute warning. I’ll keep you in the loop on what's going on. Don't worry, I’ll be safe.” she quickly dabbed her eyes and stood up before deactivating her link. I was left staring at my own sad reflection for the second time today.