My Star Trek One-Shots

Commander Rayner - Other Side of the Stars

The red alert klaxon howled through the Discovery's corridors as lights flickered from a localized energy surge just off Deck 8. In the transporter room, no one had touched the controls, and yet the air shimmered — a crackling hum building as if the very fabric of space had torn for a heartbeat.

Then came a flash. A woman appeared mid-motion, stumbling forward as if she'd been running. Her boots skidded on the deck. Wild-eyed, she looked around at the unfamiliar starship, panic and adrenaline kicking in.

She bolted.

Lieutenant Lorna Chen tapped her badge. "Security to Deck 8. We have an intruder. Armed and fast."

Commander Rayner rounded the corner from a corridor intersection, just in time to see a flash of dark hair and a black leather coat sprint past. Without hesitating, he gave chase.

"Stop!" he barked, voice like a warning shot.

She didn't.

Instead, she vaulted a low railing, landed hard, and kept going. She moved like someone trained — not Starfleet, but definitely military. Rayner caught up near the turbolift junction. She turned sharply and dropped low, sweeping his legs out from under him. He recovered fast, blocking her next blow, but she twisted, planted a boot hard into his side, and knocked the wind out of him.

Pain flared — sharp, deep. A rib was definitely bruised. Maybe cracked.

Two more officers finally got hold of her. She writhed and snarled in their grip, but they dragged her to the brig.

Rayner stood outside the force field, nursing his side as he watched the woman pace like a caged wolf.

"You've got a hell of a kick," he muttered.

She stopped, eyes locking onto his — cool, guarded, but something burned beneath. "You chased me first."

"You ran."

"Wouldn't you? I was somewhere else five seconds ago. Now I'm here. Whatever here is."

Rayner eyed her warily. "You're on a Federation starship. The USS Discovery. You just tore through our security and kicked a commander."

She arched an eyebrow. "Commander, huh? I guess I should've aimed higher."

He smirked despite himself. "Name."

She hesitated. "Nera."

"That first name or last?"

She sat on the edge of the bench, elbows on her knees. "It's the only name I've got."

He didn't say anything for a while. Just watched her — the way her fingers twitched, the tension she couldn't hide.

"We'll find out where you're from," he said at last. "One way or another."

She gave a humorless laugh. "Good luck with that. I'm not even sure I know."

Days turned into weeks. After thorough scans and a reluctant agreement from Admiral Vance, Nera was released — closely monitored, of course. She wasn't from their universe. Her DNA had subtle variances, and her memories described a Starfleet that didn't exist. But she was skilled. Tactical, intuitive. And Rayner — bruises fading — couldn't deny she was useful.

And interesting.

She kept showing up in unexpected places: the observation deck late at night, the mess hall during the quietest shifts, the training room where she'd spar with anyone who dared. Rayner watched from a distance. He didn't trust easily. But he respected strength — and she had plenty of it.