Ships in the Night

Chapter One

Stephanie's day started out surprisingly well which, in retrospect, probably should have been a sign.

Since the U.S.S. Avenger had been transported to the far side of the galaxy, good days had increasingly become luxuries rather than a matter of course. This was doubly true for her as she usually had a long list of traumatized crew waiting for her to help them through whatever latest trauma they'd all experienced. Back home, where the biggest headache was often a malfunctioning holodeck, having only one counselor on ship had been more than enough.

Here, where it seemed they faced death on a weekly basis, it was woefully inadequate.

She dragged herself out of bed, showered and dressed in her uniform, the blue linking her to the Medical field in spite of detractors who tried to deny her position had any health benefits at all.

She'd be curious to see if they held the same view of therapy after watching insectoids drag five of their screaming crewmates through a breached hull while their mother ship did its best to incinerate the rest of them.

She tugged her blonde hair into a thick, shoulder length ponytail, allowed some tendrils to escape and frame her face to soften the look, and headed out.

The Mess Hall was already moderately crowded when she arrived, crewmembers scattered about as they either came on shift or left. Several greeted her and Stephanie nodded in return as she headed toward the bar.

"Ah, Lieutenant," Bruce said, smiling at her from the other side of the counter. "The usual?"

Stephanie stopped in front of him, rested her hands on the surface of the bar and idly tapped her fingers against the glossy surface. "Yes, please."

The quiet man serenely retreated to get her order. His name wasn't actually Bruce, but few had been able to pronounce his real name. A portion of it sounded like Bruce and he had been gracious enough to allow it, treating it like an affectionate nickname.

He'd only been on the ship a month, after they rescued him from a crippled space freighter, but had already proven invaluable to ship morale with his cooking and personality. In many ways, he was proving to be a second counselor, and Stephanie was more than grateful for the help.

Bruce returned with a plate of food and a cup of coffee. Stephanie thanked him warmly and headed toward a table set near the large viewports that provided a spectacular view of space. Natasha, the ship's Chief Security Officer, was already there, waiting. The narrow ridges on her nose and the ear cuff marked her as Bajoran, as did her no nonsense attitude, a trademark of a people who'd once lived under the rule of Cardassia.

Up until six months prior, she and Stephanie had never so much as exchanged a word. They'd had nothing in common back home, and after arriving in the Delta Quadrant, they'd been too focused on keeping themselves, and those around them, alive.

And then they'd run into the U.S.S. Hydra, a fellow Federation Starship that had been trapped in Delta Quadrant for well over a hundred years.

At first the Avenger crew had been overjoyed. Finally, something going their way. Something familiar. Colleagues who could help them navigate the new area of space they found themselves in.

And then the Hydra had opened fire on them, and hard reality had settled in.

In their excitement to see another Federation ship, no one had really stopped to consider just what it mean to be trapped in the Delta Quadrant for so long. The original crew was long gone, replaced entirely by those born and raised after the ship had become trapped. To them, the Delta Quadrant was home. They had no love for a galaxy they'd never seen, and certainly no loyalty to a Federation they'd only heard about in stories.