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The Athena was back in San Francisco. There wasn’t a joyous moment upon their arrival. The news had spread like wildfire. A cadet killed. A seasoned lieutenant killed. A spaceship destroyed;all hands lost. A space station ramshacked. Crew members escaping in escape pods. No count on deaths or how many were lost.
The cadets who left the ship and campus were silent. They avoided their friends and family preferring to gather in small quiet groups in the surrounding parks and gardens. The reality of what had happened was beginning to sink in. At the same time the cadets were beginning to understand what they had signed up for. Starfleet meant death, the unknown, the unknowable. They weren’t going to school to learn to be Starfleet officers. They were learning how to defend the Federation and the peoples that populated it. For some it was a moment to re-evaluate their choices. For some it reinforced what they had always believed. And for the ones who had nowhere else to go it didn’t change a thing.
Caleb found her in the smallest observation cubicle on the Athena. He’d been searching for most of the morning. From her quarters to the bridge and the mess hall, even the med bay without any luck.
Captain Nahla Ake was perched on a cushion in a tall window, legs drawn up to her chest, arms wrapped around them as she stared out at the Golden Gate Bridge.
Caleb paused, watching her for several quiet minutes. She was the Captain of the ship; the Chancellor of the Academy and in some small way a mother figure that he depended on. But at the moment she appeared to be a tired, worn person whose age was reflected in her eyes as she stared out the window.
He finally approached, settling down beside her. Originally, he wanted to talk about what had happened on the Miyazaki. But now he changed his mind. He reached out and touched her hand. “Hey, are you okay?” Caleb kept his voice soft.
Ake looked at him and for a moment sorrow filled her face before the calm in control mask she normally wore smoothed her face. “Cadet Mir. Is there something you need?” Her voice was soft, smooth, with no signs of emotions being firmly held in control.
“No. I just wanted to check on you. The memorial service for B’avi is in a couple hours. I know you have lost crew before – but this – feels different.” Calab looked into Ake’s shadow filled eyes. He was struggling with what he was trying to express. “B’avi was a cadet - brand new to fighting for his life. He took that blast to save my life. He didn’t even hesitate. Just – moved.” Caleb looked away from those shadow filled eyes. “I don’t know how to handle that. How to feel –” he whispered.
“Grateful. You feel grateful, Caleb. And you remember his sacrifice every time you step into a combat situation." Ake whispered. “Every time a crew member dies you will remember B’avi and the moment he fell. If you ever reach a command position what you just went through will act as a lesson in protecting lives.”
“How many lives have you lost?”
Ake turned back to the view. “I’ve been in Starfleet for a very long time.”
“Do you remember their names?”
“Everyone.” Nahla sighed. “It’s something you have to live with. After a while you’ll remember those who have fallen with a smile. Even be able to tell their stories with a laugh. But you never forget.”
Caleb sat for another moment, sharing the silence, trying to put his thoughts in order. “Before he died, B'avi and I were working on getting the drive operational. Side by side, sharing information, working on a solution. For a moment we shared … something…a glance, a thought, a moment where we .. connected. He looked at me, I looked at him and I knew what he was thinking, what he was going to do next.” Caleb shook his head. “It only lasted seconds but I felt like I’d found someone who would be important to me for the rest of my life, Then he died…Before I could figure it out.” A tear slowly creeped down his face. “Isn’t that weird?” He wiped at his cheek. “I didn’t even know him. But I think we could have been friends - or something.”
Nahla smiled sadly. “B’avi was Vulcan. During extreme crises they have the capability to reach out mentally to others, to connect, to share thoughts. It doesn’t happen often but when it does I’ve read that the connection can be profound. Even life altering to some.”
“I thought that required touch? A mind meld?”
“For deep connections, yes. But not always. Especially if the people involved share a ‘wavelength’.”
Caleb shook his head. “I’m going to miss him, and I didn’t even know him.”
“He will be missed. Kelrec has a plan for a memorial at the War College. He will accompany B’avi’s body home to his family.” Nahla paced away, and came back to Caleb's side. She touched his arm briefly. “I have to change.” She waved at her casual attire. “I’m speaking at the memorial.” She tugged Caleb's sleeve. “You must change too.”
Caleb nodded. “Can I escort you to your quarters?”
“Of course.” Nahla took Caleb's arm with a small smile. They exited the observation deck in silence, heading for the nearest turbolift.
Caleb side eyed the chancellor. “Can I ask you something?”
“Of course. I may not answer.” Nahla was candid in her answer.
“You said you remember every crew member you lost.”
“Yes.”
“Is there one who stands out?” Who you remember the most?”
Nahla stopped, which of course Caleb had to stop as well. The small hand in the crook of his elbow tightened its grip.
Nahla closed her eyes, swallowing hard. The flare of internal pain was hot, intense, and squeezed her heart. She looked at Caleb’s open young face. She nodded.
“My son.” She dropped her hand from Caleb’s arm and stepped away. She entered the turbolift alone, leaving Caleb staring after her.
Toshua 2026