Reintroduction

Posted on Wed Dec 10th, 2025 @ 5:31pm by Lieutenant Axod Qo & Lieutenant Xex Wang

Mission: Port of Call
Location: CMO's Quarters
Timeline: Mission Day 6 at 0600

[Deck 2]
[CMO's Quarters]
[MD 6, 0600]

Xex was still breathing deeply and mindfully as she made her way back to her suite, trying to hold on to the modicum of equilibrium she had managed to find in the holodeck simulation. Good though the simulations always were, there as a stubborn part of her brain that refused to accept the replacement for true, growing things. The corridors were fuller now than when she had left her quarters, and she concentrated on not running into anyone or anything as she settled into her new balance.

Reaching her door without incident, she palmed it open-- thank the stars her biosigns never altered enough to have to re-approve her for access across the ship-- and gratefully stepped out of the bustle and into the dim quiet of the suite. Finding it empty, she released a breath she didn't know she had been holding. Feeling she had certainly had her fill of interaction for the day, casual though all her hallway encounters had been, she made directly for her room, crossing the empty suite and disappearing within.

Axod had taken to sleeping in his office for the past few days, a sort of self-imposed exile of sorts. It wasn’t that the couch was particularly comfortable, but the solitude offered a sense of control, a buffer between himself and the conversation he wasn’t ready to have. Xex’s hibernation cycle was nearing its end, and while Axod had been counting the days, he wasn’t eager for their first encounter. Not yet. Things between them had been... strained, and he wasn’t sure how to bridge the space that had quietly grown into something cavernous.

This morning he returned to their quarters with a simple goal: to retrieve a few of his books. Real, printed volumes. The kind that smelled faintly of paper and age. They were comfort objects, really, small anchors in an unpredictable existence. He approached the door with practiced quiet, the kind of care reserved for avoiding both confrontation and waking someone too soon. The quarters were dim when he stepped inside, soft light spilling from the corridor behind him before the door hissed shut. The familiar scent of the space, a blend of his own Doosdarian incense and the sterile neutrality of recycled air, settled over him.

Axod’s eyes swept the room cautiously, scanning for signs of movement. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to find Xex awake or still in the grip of hibernation. Either possibility held its own weight. He moved quietly toward the small bookshelf. His fingers brushed along the spines of the books, tracing titles he’d read a dozen times before, selecting a few with care.

It was several moments of quiet bookish contemplation before Xex's door opened again. Seeing Axod had returned in the time she'd taken to change into soft sweatpants and a newly-replicated t-shirt with SOJO across the back, Xex froze in her doorway. Sooner started, sooner finished, her fourth mother's common refrain echoed in her mind, even all these many years later and she cleared her throat, not wanting to startle the Doosodarian. "Good morning," she greeted, her voice still sounding odd to her ears, graveled and husky with disuse. There was caution in her tone; she had found first interactions after a Sleep were seldom comfortable affairs.

The unfamiliar voice caught Axod off guard, cutting through the soft stillness of the quarters. His shoulders stiffened instinctively, a flicker of guilt rising in his chest. Without turning, he spoke in a low voice, careful not to intrude further. “Sorry,” he said, the words quiet but genuine. “I didn’t know the doctor had guests.”

He gripped the stack of old, well-loved volumes he’d come to collect, the faint scent of aged paper comforting in his hands. Straightening, he turned at last, and froze.

His breath hitched. For a moment, his mind refused to make sense of what he was seeing. This was Xex, there was no question of that, but not the same Xex who had drifted off to hibernation some time ago. Something had changed. His presence filled the room differently now, in a way Axod couldn’t quite name.

He blinked once. Twice. Still, words failed him. All the things he’d rehearsed in his head fell away in the moment.All he could do was stand there, caught between recognition and disbelief, staring at the person before him.

"Even if the doctor did have guests," Xex said, the hint of wryness in her voice falling away to reveal something gentler, more genuine, "these are your quarters as well. I would never want you to feel unwelcome." Whatever else had come between them, Xex believed these words, the truth written in her silvery features, and ringing in the conviction that nearly vibrated through her tone.

Her eyes flicked to his stack of books, then back up at his face, not moving from the doorway of her room. She knew bettter than to press her new presence upon those she had known before the Sleep. People took the changes so differently, and forcing them to confront her too soon inevitably led to tears. Sometimes literal ones.

The press of things she wanted to say gagged her for a moment, forcing her to pick just one lest she choke on the flood. Canting her head just slightly she asked with real concern, "Are you well?" Something about the changes wrought on her during the Sleep made this question sound more natural than it might have before, as though she really could care genuinely about the answer. Once again, her gaze flicked over him. The suite's lighting was subdued, but even so, he did not look as well-rested as he might; she had not yet had a chance to reacquaint herself with the updated medical files of the Sojourner's crew. She suspected, based on the computer's synopsis of her period of hibernation, that it would be heavy reading.

“I… ummm… yes, I am.” Axod’s words stumbled out, heavy with uncertainty, as though he wasn’t entirely sure whether he was speaking the truth or trying to convince himself. His voice carried the hesitant cadence of someone caught between duty and something far more personal. “…are you?” he asked softly, the question cautious, almost fragile,as he set the stack of books down on the nearest surface with care, the quiet thud echoing slightly in the stillness of their shared quarters.

He took a slow, deliberate step forward, his gaze searching, trying to reconcile what he was seeing with what he remembered. Xex, no, this Xex, was the same and yet unmistakably changed. There was an undeniable vitality about her, a renewed sharpness that seemed to hum in the air between them.

Axod’s eyes lingered a beat too long, caught somewhere between awe and confusion, a dozen half-formed thoughts chasing one another through his mind. Relief. Surprise. Longing. Even a flicker of fear. He drew in a quiet breath, grounding himself, though it did little to steady the storm beneath the surface. He wanted to speak again, to fill the silence before it grew too heavy, but the words refused to come. Instead, he simply stood there, suspended in that strange moment between recognition and rediscovery.

"I will be," Xex said gently, and there was unmistakable truth in her tone. It was a truth that spoke of experience. Of resignation and anticipation both. However many times she did this, it was always just a little bit different, and the many little variances in humanoids and their interactions ensured the experience would continue to vary.

She remained where she was as Axod approached, willing her expression and posture to remain relaxed while she inwardly steeled herself for whatever might come. They had not parted on comfortable terms, and in her experience, the Sleep was not some magical eraser that excised unpleasant memories nor did it smooth the bumpy lines in her connections to the others. His surprise would give way to something else, she was certain, but just what remained to be seen. It was that doubt that had her inwardly fortifying herself inwardly.

She let him observe her for a few moments, knowing that it took some time for her appearance to sink into the minds of those she was meeting anew. Scientifically, she was aware that old neural pathways were being rewired at this very moment, new connections made, expectations met or changed among those lightening-fast communications within Axod's brain. She knew her own connections were likewise being adjusted and reshuffled, bathed in a new wash of hormones and perception. All of this she knew. And yet what she felt was: unaccountably shy. She had faced this situation myriad times before, and while she told herself that it was nothing new, that she would survive whatever came as she always did, it always felt new and uncertain. Every. Damned. Time.

She hated that part.

Finally, judging she'd given him enough time, she said, "You will perhaps forgive me for saying so, as I know I have been away at a difficult time, but Axod... you do not look well." Then, unable to resist the temptation to lighten the mood at least a little, her lips tilted up to the side and she quirked an eyebrow, "I hadn't intended to put the CMO's jacket back on tonight, but I will if you leave me no choice..."

“I’m fine,” Axod said, though the words came out too quickly, too thin to convince anyone who’d been paying attention. His voice carried the practiced ease of someone who’d said it a hundred times before, someone who knew exactly how to sound almost believable.

He forced a small smile, but it didn’t reach his dark blue eyes. “It’s just been… busy lately,” he added, his tone lazily compensating for the truth he wasn’t ready to voice. The attempt at casualness felt hollow even to his own ears. He ran a hand through his red hair, pushing it back from his forehead in a gesture that was more about grounding himself than vanity. Beneath the veneer of composure, there was fatigue, the kind that settled deep in the bones. The long hours, the strain of holding others together while quietly unraveling himself, it was starting to show in the faint sag of his shoulders, the slow cadence of his breathing.

For a counselor, he was remarkably bad at hiding when he needed counsel himself. Still, Axod straightened, feigning a steadiness he didn’t quite feel. “You know how it is,” he said, offering a quiet chuckle that sounded almost real. “Crew morale doesn’t take care of itself.”

"Nor, apparently, does the ship's counselor," Xex said dryly, her smile warm enough to take the sting out of the tease. Her expression sobered then, and she added, "I do know how it is, and I am truly sorry I was unavailable to be of what assistance I may have been. Still," she straightened, squaring her shoulders and pulling the bottom hem of her t-shirt down with the same air of someone shooting their cuffs, "I am here now, and I would like to help. I won't pretend I can take any of your patients off your to-do list, but will you allow me to ply you with a good meal and some tea so you might face your day at least fortified if not rested?" Her voice was calm and gentle, a little higher than it had been, but still resonant in timbre. It was less forceful than it could be, owing to the uneasy way they had left things before the Sleep, but not tentative. Axod needed help, Xex knew she could offer this, at least. Now she only had to hope he would accept it.

Axod exhaled shakily, the sound catching in his throat before tapering into silence. A confusing storm of emotions churned beneath the calm mask he tried to maintain—uncertainty, apprehension, and something softer he wasn’t ready to name. The dynamic between them had shifted, subtly but unmistakably, and that realization left him feeling off-balance. Once, it had been Xex in need of grounding, of someone steady enough to hold the chaos. Now, it felt as though the roles had reversed, and Axod wasn’t sure he liked how that felt.

He shook his head gently, his red hair falling across his forehead before he brushed it back again. “That’s very… sweet,” he said finally, his voice uncertain, as though testing the weight of his own words. He wasn’t sure if it was the right thing to say, or even what he meant by it, but it was all he could manage without betraying the turmoil beneath the surface.

Xex lifted a challenging eyebrow at Axod's pause, and when 'sweet' filled the silence, the other raised to join its fellow in surprise. She had been fairly certain Axod wouldn't be hurrying to use 'sweet' to describe her anytime soon. Belatedly realizing how she might look, she ducked her head, as though embarrassed by his reply. Whether or not she was, it neatly hid her expression.

After a brief pause, Axod inhaled and forced a faint smile, the kind meant to bridge a distance too wide to close all at once. “I… umm. Coffee would be nice.” The subtle lilt of his coastal accent bled into his words, softening the edges of his hesitation. It grounded him, a familiar rhythm when everything else felt foreign.

Xex's smile was grateful he had taken the proverbial olive branch and it softened some of the unfamiliar lines of her face. She started forward toward the replicator but before she got more than a step, Axod was in motion.

He crossed the room, his movements measured, deliberate, the way one might move through uncertain emotional terrain. The soft hum of the replicator filled the silence that had lingered between them for too long. Axod glanced over his shoulder toward Xex, his expression unreadable but his tone open, an invitation, fragile but genuine.

“What can I get you?” he asked.

It wasn’t just a question about coffee. It was a quiet offering, an opening, a chance to start again, if she wanted to take it.

"My usual Vulcan tea blend, and those little savory cakes you love," she said, not tentative at all. If he was willing to try, she was going all in.

Axod waited patiently as the replicator completed its cycle, the familiar hum and shimmer filling the otherwise quiet quarters. When the sound faded, he reached forward and retrieved the tray, its gentle warmth seeping through his fingertips. The aroma of coffee mingled faintly with the spices of the Tea, and the warm scent of the small cakes he’d ordered, a comforting combination that felt, somehow, grounding.

He carried the tray carefully to the table, his movements calm and deliberate. Though he didn’t turn his head, he was acutely aware of Xex in the periphery of his vision, every subtle motion, every quiet breath as she joined him at the table. There was a fragile rhythm between them now, one built on caution and unspoken things.

Setting the tray down, Axod arranged the cups and plates with quiet precision before taking his seat. The sofa creaked softly under him as he settled in, folding one leg over the other. He reached for one of the small cakes and took a bite, letting the sweetness linger for a moment before he washed it down with a sip of the steaming coffee. The warmth spread through him, loosening the tightness that had coiled in his chest. "I want to apologize." He said after a beat.

Far too new still in her body to consider any kind of physical closeness, Xex settled herself on the floor at right angles to the couch, settling her buttocks between her heels, knees in front of her in a pose that her previous body would not have countenanced; she reveled in the stretch of the position. There were some advantages to this collection of connective tissue and subtly-altered musculo-skeletal framework. She reached for the tea, bringing it to hover just in front of her face while she breathed the fragrant steam. Solid food was still beyond her and would be for a day or so, but this was much better than the nutrient smoothie she'd downed earlier. This was a beverage for the joy of the beverage, with no thought to nutrition. Her eyes slid closed as the smell brought back fond memories of her second father and his ridiculous--

Axod's quiet words snapped her eyes open. Her expression was unguarded, both surprised and curious as she cocked her head to the side. Her brows lifted and she prompted, "For?" There were several things that came to mind-- while her thoughts were still muddy, her memory was undamaged-- she had no desire to put words into his mouth. He would explain in his own time.

“For… the distance I put between us,” Axod said at last, the words emerging on a soft exhale. He lifted his cup and took a quick, almost reflexive sip, just enough to steady himself, not nearly enough to hide behind. The nectar brushed his tongue, sweet and grounding. “Things just became too much, too quickly,” he continued, voice low but earnest, “and I’m sorry for letting my emotions get the better of me.”

Xex fought, and failed, to control her expression. She had been quite certain these words would never leave Axod's lips, and her surprise was written across her silvery features. She took a hasty sip of tea to hide her expression, hissing slightly when the too-hot liquid contacted her tongue. She grimaced as she lowered the mug; at least she'd managed to rearrange her features, even if it was into an unflattering moue.

He shifted in his seat, not out of discomfort, but for a clearer view of Xex, of this Xex, in this new form. His dark blue eyes traced her face with a cautious curiosity, as though learning someone familiar all over again. There was a gentleness in his posture now, a softening of the tension that had held him rigid for days. “That, coupled with…” He stopped. The next words snagged in his throat, refusing to form. He inhaled, his chest rising with the effort to say something he simply couldn’t. He didn’t speak Ezhr’s name. Not yet. Maybe not today. To admit how rattled he’d felt by his former lover’s sudden presence, especially when they hadn’t even seen each other since the Xanosian came aboard, felt impossible. A foolish confession, too tangled and raw to articulate.

So instead, he shook his head slightly, as though brushing away the thought itself. “It was a lot,” he finished quietly. “More than I knew how to process in the moment. But none of that excuses how I handled things.” His gaze softened further, the melodic undertone of his voice deepening. “I just… wanted you to know that.”

There was a small, petty part of Xex that wished to celebrate, to gloat even. That part of her that shouted a vindicated, 'I was right!' would never fully leave her, she suspected, but fortunately it had been many years since that part of her had had enough supremacy to get her in trouble. The majority of her emotion, the portion that bled over into her reaction was relief. It was difficult to tell in this new body that she held so stiffly anyway, but a modicum of tension bled from her shoulders, and her expression softened in a way that made her more feminine features fit better. "Thank you," she said simply.

She wanted to reach out and take Axod's hand, to have some contact with him, but she knew better. Whatever he might have felt, she was still too new to this body to tolerate it. Instead, she set her mug aside, and made a gesture with her hands, not dissimilar to the mudras from Earth's Indian subcontinent, tilting her head with acknowledgement. When she looked up again, her eyes met Axod's with open intensity. "On the contrary," she said gently, "I've found that emotion is perhaps the only thing to excuse our most regretful actions. I've never ascribed to Vulcan methodology and I don't intend to start now. Without emotions... what is the point?"

It seemed the question was rhetorical, for she continued, "But then, that is easy for me to say. I can always go see a counselor. Whom then, does the counselor see, when it becomes... a lot?" she asked, using his own wording, her expression open and inviting.

“I’ve been asking myself that question a lot,” Axod admitted, his voice softer than before. He brought his cup to his lips again, more for the comfort of the motion than the drink itself. The warm liquid coated his tongue, grounding him just enough to continue. “Commander t’Nai has been helpful,” he went on, giving credit where it was due. “More than helpful, really. She’s been… steady. Present. And that’s not something I take for granted.”

He let his eyes drift for a moment, not away, but inward, wrestling with the truth he hadn’t yet said aloud. “But I’ve been wondering whether we need to request another counselor.” The words came out with a mixture of reluctance and quiet honesty, the admission of someone trying to hold the line for others while aware of how thin that line had become.

He exhaled, shoulders lowering just slightly.“To have someone else on staff… someone who could lighten the load. This last little while has stretched the crew in ways none of us were prepared for. And I…” He hesitated, not embarrassed, just choosing his words with care. “I’m only one person. One pair of hands. One perspective.”

His gaze flicked back up, meeting Xex’s with a steadiness that belied the fatigue underneath. “Though I’m not sure how feasible that is,” he finished, tone dipping into something rueful. “Counselors are in short supply. And ships like ours… well, Starfleet tends to underestimate just how much emotional work deep space requires.” He offered a small, lopsided smile. It was tired, sincere, and very much Axod.

"Starfleet underestimates a lot of things," Xex quipped, with just a touch too much acid. She took a grounding sip of her tea to wash the taste of the words from her mouth, ignoring the too-hot temperature, then continued more reasonably, "I would be happy to add whatever weight I can to such a request." Her expression was earnest, her gray eyes seeking Axod's, noting anew the lines of fatigue that had settled heavily beneath them. "In the meantime, can I convince you to at least sleep in your own bed?" She glanced pointedly at his door, her words deliberately free from innuendo.

Axod nodded, a low chuckle escaping him as his posture loosened with genuine amusement. “I don’t think we’ll ever have a normal first meeting,” he said, his voice brightening in that way it often did when humor slipped past his usual composure. The grin that spread across his face was wide and a little helpless, as though he’d resigned himself to the cosmic joke of it all.

Xex's answering smile started shy, and then blossomed into a grin as she shared the joke with him, gray eyes dancing with the memory of their very first meeting.

He gave his head a slow shake, the gesture equal parts disbelief and affection. “We’re two for two on strange introductions,” he added lightly. “Maybe that’s just who we are, perpetually stuck in some kind of… unconventional orbit.”

"This is the Delta Quadrant," Xex agreed, "home to the unconventional."

The thought didn’t seem to bother Ax; if anything, it deepened the warmth in his expression. Whatever normal counted as these days, he wasn’t sure it would suit them anyway.

A Post by;

Lieutenant Xex
Chief Medical Officer

Lieutenant Axod Qo
Chief Counselor