Aperture

Posted on Thu Jul 2nd, 2026 @ 5:20pm by Lieutenant Commander Emni t'Nai & Captain Björn Kodak & Lieutenant Tork & Lieutenant Xex Wang & Lieutenant Axod Qo & Lieutenant Amarok tr'Ragnar & Lieutenant JG Thomas Mitchell & Ensign M'Razza & Andrew Munro & Lieutenant JG Declan & Ensign Leovinus & Ensign Scraliontis & Ensign Brobostigan & Debbie Gless

8,116 words; about a 41 minute read

Mission: Aperture Science
Location: Pathfinder Station, Promenade and Habitat Decks, Public Viewing Area
Timeline: Mission Day 1 at 13:00

Pathfinder Station, though functional as a hub for regional trade and a haven for ships needing to dock for repairs, was still more than a year away from completion with only a portion of its planned crew and civilian complement. On any normal day this was easy to spot. The corridors were quieter than you would expect, some sections still off limits while crews worked to complete unfinished structures and reinforce vital systems. Shop fronts offered varying degrees of readiness with some vibrant and welcoming while others remained dark, waiting to be claimed by a new vendor or in some stage of set up preceding any readiness for customers. For all rights and purposes it was unmistakably a frontier station still coming up to its full functionality.

Except this was not a normal day.

In their wisdom the architects of the station's design had included a public centralized viewing space at the heart of the habitat and promenade decks. Spanning 3 decks, a clear viewport offered a nearly floor to ceiling window that gave viewers from anywhere within that section of the Promenade a clear and broad view of the space beyond the station. A field of stars filled the space and a small platform dominated the length of the viewing area closest to the curve of the viewing port. At full complement the station could host public gatherings, celebrations, debates, or even concerts in the space.

Starting in the middle of the three decks, were terraced seating areas that gradually made their way to a flat open space before the platform a deck below. Some held tables with a set of chairs. Others were festooned with cushions or comfortable seating areas. Still others were carefully crafted to enable the inclusion of children with low walls that kept them in a contained area and places for play while adults enjoyed each other's company. Along the outside, of the second and third deck, well lit food stalls and shopping areas had turned out in almost celebratory vibrance.

It felt as if half the station's occupants had made their way to this place, finding seats in the terraced gathering spaces, perusing food vendors, or leaning against railings at the topmost point of the viewing space.

It was not, after all, every day that the Barzan Wormhole opened, and few of the station's occupants, transitory or permanent, wanted to miss the sight.

Emni and Tork had arrived early, picking up lunch and stationing themselves at a table where they had an unobstructed view of open space. The Romulan woman scanned the stars as if she could pick out the exact spot the wormhole's aperture would spiral open to reveal the phenomenon's mouth and the transiting ships that they expected to arrive. Already a few ships hovered in the inky blackness, at the ready for their own transit through to the Alpha Quadrant.

A basket of french fries, largely eaten, sat between the two officers, smothered with some sort of melted cheese. Without looking, Emni absently snagged one of the few remaining fries and popped it into her mouth, turning away only to look to her companion and smile. "What cheese did they say this was again?" she asked the Ferengi.

"I think he called it 'ched-ar'. Whatever it is, it's addictive," Tork responded after removing a few specks of it from his fingers.

At this point, Declan had explored some of the completed sections of Pathfinder station and much of the Sojourner after most of the crew disembarked, they needed the space, that’s for certain he’d learned from the ship’s public logs. He’d reported to the XO back then, quickly, and spent much time going over the ship’s star charts and sensor logs while he waited for the new Chief and Assistant Chief Science Officers to report in. He was delighted to find out his friend from their last posting, the Olympic, Amarok is to be his superior. He’d planned out a meeting but that quickly got dismissed when the wormhole was due to open so soon. Declan decided to do it there, he knew Amarok would be there to watch his home vessel the Unstable Unicorn head back to Federation space.

In a fresh uniform, Declan walked into the public viewing area on the Promenade and spotted the triplets almost immediately. They are very boisterous men, Declan did enjoy their antics but silently. By the windows stood Amarok, watching the Unicorn form up among the other ships preparing for wormhole travel. Amarok was talking to the window as well, probably to Hannok but Declan approached silently avoiding the Jelna Rigellian brothers.

“It’s going to suck without you!” Amarok complained and blinked at the reflection in the window that had made him pause.

“Love?” Hannok was concerned when he didn’t hear anything for more than a few moments.

“Oh sorry, I just encountered Declan,” Amarok offered the Vulcan gesture. “My my, it’s a pleasure to see you once more,” he glanced at the human Vulcan hybrid’s collar to see the black pip. “Congratulations on your promotion junior grade Lieutenant.”

“Congrats,” Hannok announced louder.

“Thank you both. I am delighted to see you again, Amarok. Sir.” Declan’s face softened just the slightest at the implication.

Amarok raised an eyebrow, his shades just slightly off transparent, “you’re on the Sojourner?” A grin spread over the other hybrid’s face as Declan nodded.

“You are right, that is delightful, indeed.” Amarok returned Declan’s earlier sentiment. “Welcome aboard,” he added.

Declan inclined his head in that Vulcan thank you way. “And you are right, a month or so between wormhole openings does suck.”

“Captain Solomon, I left a list of items with my family that I’d like for you to bring back. If you would be so kind, I will pay you upon your return of course.” Declan said after stepping closer to Amarok.

A sigh, “very well Lieutenant, I will be so kind,” Hannok chuckled and added. “Well see you in a month-ish love,” the unjoined Trill made several unintelligible noises before the channel closed.

He could only speculate about those as Amarok turned to face Declan. “We should grab a beverage,” he suggested and Declan nodded, the pair made their way quickly to the public bar.

M'Razza entered the viewing area with a bag full of small, fried brown foodstuffs in her hand. Being a low-rank, she hesitated on approaching the higher ranking officers of the Sojourner, and popped a few of the brown fried bits into her mouth, chewing it with her sharpened teeth. Her tail flicking between her legs, she found a seat and crossed her legs underneath her and enjoyed her fried Europan icefish.

There were few advantages to the late shift, which was why Xex generally took it, rather than foisting it off on her subordinates. For once though, her off time coincided with something quite extraordinary and while she might have normally been inclined to give her new assistant a chance at the viewing, this time, she took the chance herself. The wormhole's opening was infrequent enough that to have it coincide with the Sojourner's presence on the station was nothing short of a miracle, and Xex would be damned if she was going to miss a miracle. She'd managed to change into something comfortable and flowing, that floated about her legs as she walked, her slight limp barely visible beneath the folds of her garment. "See?" she said to Axod as they moved into the viewing area, continuing some discussion they'd been having, "It hasn't started after all. And the XO has claimed an excellent table. Emni!" she said, standing on tiptoe and waving to the woman to attract her attention, either oblivious to, or purposefully ignoring the fact that the XO already had a companion.

Axod moved carefully through the swelling crowd alongside Xex, his pace subtly more measured than usual. Though it was still early, he couldn’t deny the quiet anxiety that had woven itself into his every movement lately, a new awareness of his body, of vulnerability, of the life quietly changing within him.

His attire flowed elegantly around him: a deep green kaftan, so dark it bordered on black, crafted in traditional Doosodarian design. The fabric moved with liquid grace, its intricate embellishments catching the light in understated flashes, lending him an almost regal presence despite the caution in his step.

As they approached Emni, Axod’s expression softened into an easy warmth. “Mind if we join you?” he asked, his tone gentle and inviting, carrying just enough familiarity to suggest he already hoped the answer would be yes.

Emni looked up, catching the approaching forms of Xex and Axod before they reached the table. A warm, open, smile greeted them. Before confirming, though, the Romulan's eyes met and locked with the Ferengi's. Something unspoken passed between--a shared understanding or acknowledgement--before Emni inclined her head. "We've certainly got enough chairs," she said.

A quick surveil of the surrounding area showed that chairs were quickly becoming difficult to come by. "It would be a shame to waste them." She indicated the open spots with a wave in their general direction before eyeing the nearly empty basket of cheese fries.

"Have either of you had cheese fries before?" she asked, curious.

Axod shook his head, though the intrigue on his face was immediate and unmistakable. Cheese had always been a particular weakness of his long before he’d become with child, and judging by the near-constant pull of his appetite lately, that fondness clearly wasn’t going anywhere.

“That sounds amazing,” he said, eyes widening with genuine enthusiasm. There was an almost dangerous level of interest in the way he said it now, as though he were already mentally cataloguing how soon he could get his hands on cheese fries for himself.

“You have fried cheese?” Xex demanded excitedly, either mishearing or misunderstanding the Romulan. “It is amazing,” she said in a quieter aside to Axod as she snagged one of the chairs and flopped gracelessly down into it while simultaneously reaching for one of the cheese fries.

Meanwhile, another group of folks had just arrived. And with them was…a stroller? At least, it looked like it had been a stroller once upon a time. That had been before Debbie, of course. Now the stroller was more of a hover-powered Wormhole Day parade float.

A vendor near the habitat deck entrance had been selling wormhole novelties — the kind of cheerful commercial opportunism that sprung up around any sufficiently predictable astronomical event — and Debbie had discovered him with the focused intensity of someone who had been waiting her whole life for exactly this product category to be a thing. The spinning toys came first. Then the blanket. Then, with a sound that could only be described as triumph, the shirt: black cotton, bluish-cartoon wormhole grinning from the chest, Baby's First Wormhole Day arcing above it in bold primary letters. Debbie had held it up. Made eye contact with no one in particular and then put it in the basket.

June was wearing it now, sitting in her festooned stroller with the wide-eyed wonder of someone who had recently learned that the world was full of things worth looking at and had decided to look at all of them. All at once. Without missing a single one of them. As her head moved from side to side, her hair drifted in the promenade's air circulation — fine, soft, and faintly frondy at the ends. The baby’s hair was the one detail that made a stranger look twice. One of her small hands rested on the stroller tray, the spinner toys catching the light above her and throwing iridescent spirals across the canopy.

Björn had his camera out. Visitors to his shared quarters with Andrew had seen the device before. It sat unremarkably on a shelf, the body opened into its action mode, the flash flipped up like a cobra opening its hood. But today, the Kodak-branded camera — which, of course, shared the name the Chameloid had inherited from his birth parents — was absent of the dust that had been collecting on it for years. In fact, Björn was looking more through the device’s viewfinder than through his own golden eyes.

He'd had the camera snapping shots for most of the day so far. There had been the shot of June in the causeway between the Sojourner and Pathfinder with the light coming in at an angle across her face. The shot of Debbie holding the shirt up in the vendor's stall, victorious. A half-decent shot of the promenade entrance as they'd come through, the crowd already thick with people who'd come for the same reason they had. The camera was old and particular and required actual thought — aperture, exposure, the deliberate choice of what to include and what to cut — and Björn had found, these past two weeks, that rediscovering his love of photography through becoming a parent was exactly what he needed. Something that required him to stop and look instead of just rushing moment to moment.

Beside the fearless photog, Andrew was pushing the parade-float-that-was-a-stroller. He was, in Björn's observation, always pushing the stroller. Always the one to get up in the night when June stirred — not that Björn hadn't tried, but somehow Andrew was already there. Always the one to notice when she shifted, always positioning his larger frame between her and a crowd without seeming to think about it. Two weeks of small accumulated moments had started to become a pattern, each one individually unremarkable but adding up to something the Chameloid was still trying to figure out.

He lowered the camera as they navigated a pocket of congestion near one of the food stalls. "I can take her for a bit," Björn offered. Casual. Easy. "Give your hands a rest?”

Said hands tightened on the stroller handles — just slightly, just a fraction — and Andrew said, "No, I've got her," in the tone that ended conversations. He was warm but his meaning was as clear as a closed door.

Björn heard it the same way he'd been hearing it for two weeks. He filed it but did not comment further. He raised the camera and pointed it at June in her cartoon wormhole shirt, framed by the spinning, sparkling toys, and he pressed the shutter. The aperture clicked with enthusiasm as the shot imprinted itself on old school film.

That one, he thought, would be a good one.

Still beside Björn, Andrew's palms fit the rubber grips of the stroller with a familiarity that had developed quickly, the way you learned the specific weight and function of a new tool that had become part of daily life. He was aware, in the abstract, that Björn had offered to take June. He was aware that his “no thank you” had come out perhaps slightly more firmly than was strictly necessary. But here, on this station full of so many unfamiliar people, he wanted to protect their little “Miracle Grow.”

Growing up on Earth, that specific brand of plant fertilizer had endured through present day, though its formulation likely varied wildly from its centuries-old origins. But over the last two weeks, he’d watched June rapidly grow from a tiny newborn to the size of an infant almost three months old. The scientist part of his brain had been making notes left and right:

Light sensitivity following the parent plant's spectral preferences. Motor development accelerated — significantly, in ways he hadn't yet found adequate precedent for. Responses to sound. Responses to proximity. The way she oriented toward him specifically, which he had initially logged as proximity habituation and had since stopped logging because writing it down made him feel something he didn't have words for yet.

He steered the stroller around a pair of Bolian children who'd stopped abruptly in the thoroughfare. Andrew did his best to quash the wash of irritation that arose, reminding himself that someday soon — perhaps even sooner than they expected given June’s rapid development — their own daughter might get in peoples’ way in a similar fashion. It took nothing to smile at the little blue boys and keep walking but part of him wondered what it would be like when she could waddle away without him…

Next to Andrew, Debbie Gless wore her hair in a nebula-pink beehive. Her dress was a mess of azure-and-white geometric figures. Hips that had long ago given up on slim and trim were bedecked with a patent blueberry belt with a jelly buckle. And her typical mix of gummy, silver, and gold bracelets were stacked practically to her elbows. While she, herself, did not wear any of the wormhole accouterment she’d acquired for June, her outfit made it abundantly clear that she was here for the same reason as everyone else. Wormhole Day.

Except as they came to a halt in the viewing area, Debbie clocked that no matter where they moved, it was going to be impossible for her little Junebug to see said wormhole. Chewing the inside of her right cheek, she assessed this particular situation for roughly one second before she put two fingers in her mouth and whistled. Loudly. Like the shrillest shrill that ever shrilled in the history of shrilling.

The sound was decidedly not polite. It was not even particularly human. It was the sound of someone who had spent years in service industry environments where you needed to be heard over a full house and a jukebox, and it cut through the promenade chatter like a blade through warm pie. Heads turned. A gap appeared in the crowd, leading all the way up to the viewing windows.

"THANK you," Debbie announced to the gap, bracelets jangling as she flung one arm wide in a gesture that encompassed both the opening and the expectation that it would remain an opening. One person began to edge back into the open space but a thick forefinger with a bright sky-blue nail pointed at the individual in question, who slid back out of the way. Hurricane Gless had, once again, devastated the area.

Not caring in the slightest, Debbie then caught sight of Emni t'Nai at a table with a clear sightline to the viewport. The formerly pointing finger became an open hand that aggressively waved at the XO. Well, her and her Ferengi companion. Somehow she hadn’t met Tork yet, though she’d certainly heard tell of the less-than-conventional engineer. Not all of it good, she noted, but that was to be expected when someone new took over the engine room. She was pretty sure they’d said similar things about her when she became chief engineer of the Lancelot all those years ago. Debbie made a note to ask the man how he was dealing with it.

"EMNI!" The suddenly shouted word covered approximately thirty meters of crowded promenade at impressive volume. "OVER HERE, GORGEOUS —" Debbie began, about to rope the Romulan into their orbit. But then June made a small sound of interest at something in her sightline, and Debbie turned immediately back to the stroller, hands going to the spinner toys to set them turning again.

"Look at that," she cooed down at June, fog horn gone from her voice like it had never been there. "Look at those pretty lights, baby girl. Grandma got you a blue one and a white one. Just like the wormhole!” The spinner toys whirled and June watched them through Chameloid-esque eyes with the focused attention of a child who’d just discovered sugar.

From her spot at the table, Emni pressed her lips together, eyes dancing with amusement. She glanced between those gathered, sparing an extra moment on Tork, and then stood, smoothing the comfortable tunic down as if it needed some kind of adjustment. "I should..." she began, tilting her head toward where Debbie, Kodak, Munro, and the stroller carrying the most fascinating of new additions to the Sojourner's manifest, were settling in. "But hold the table," she instructed. "I'll be right back."

The sight of the Captain’s little family, unconventional as it might have appeared to most, stirred something deep within Axod. There was warmth in it, a quiet sense of belonging that caught him unexpectedly off guard.

Ax lowered himself carefully into a seat at Emni’s table, moving with deliberate caution. After settling, he shifted slightly, shimmying in place in search of some elusive comfort, the effort subtle but persistent before he finally seemed satisfied enough to relax into the chair.

Xex raised a brow at Axod, a silent question that was answered fully enough when the man finally managed to relax into the chair. None too soon either; Debbie’s piercing whistle had Xex’s head jerking protectively between her shoulderblades, a cheesy fry halfway chewed in her mouth. She was just beginning to relax when Emni made to rise. “Invite them over,” the doctor suggested, around her mouthful of cheese and potato, apparently perfectly happy that the treat was in fact not fried cheese at all. Her eyes strayed to the float-like pram and a little smile secreted at the corner of her mouth, but she wisely held her seat. “Plenty of chairs,” she added with a wink to the Romulan.

Emni's eyebrows popped upward in amusement. "We're going to need more cheese fries then," she said in parting and made her way over to the small cleared circle that surrounded Debbie.

She grinned at the three adults, stepping in front of June's stroller and bending to a squat in front of the child. "Hello Junie Bee," she said adlibbing a nick name on the spot. She'd taken to calling the little girl any number of things. Juniper Jones. Junie Marie. June who Hung the Moon. From her dramatically wormhole day festooned throne, June eyed her, lips spreading into a grin that was followed with a raspberry noise as she dropped the toy she'd been clutching and reached for a lock of Emni's hair that had dangled too close to be ignored. The toy wedged itself safely into the side of her seat, however Emni wasn't quite fast enough and had to carefully extricate long dark strands from the baby's fist before standing again all while cooing. "No no, sweet girl. We don't pull hair. That's right. Let Ms. Emni have her hair back." The amount of time required for such an extrication was surprising considering the 5 decades of life the willowy Romulan had on June.

When she could finally straighten back to standing, she looked first to Debbie who, despite her recent elevation to grandmother, seemed as much in charge as the two men who Emni knew were running on far less sleep than their usual. "We've got a table up there," she said, indicating the space where she and Tork had been joined by Axod and Xex. "You're welcome to join us. Plenty of room and chairs and a good view. I got here early just to stake out the spot." She offered a warm smile at the group and then, unable to help herself added in a singsong tone spoken directly to June. "I'm sure your daddies and grandma Debbie would love to sit. Don't you think Junie Joy?"

The change in Emni had come and gone so quickly that Björn wasn't sure anyone else had clocked it. One moment his XO was the picture of composed officer-on-leave. The next, she was crouched in front of a hover-stroller saying "Hello, Junie Bee" in a voice that had no business belonging to the same woman — completely undone by eleven pounds of grinning baby — until June reached for a dangling lock of dark hair with the single-minded conviction of someone who had found the most interesting thing in the room and intended to have it for herself.

Björn raised the camera and took the shot before he'd fully decided to. His XO, mid-wince, hair caught fast in a baby's fist, looking for all the world like she'd lost an argument she hadn't realized she was having. That'll be a good one too, he thought to himself with pride.

"That's my girl," Debbie said, with the unmistakable pride of someone whose grandchild had just won a fight, not even looking up from adjusting June's collar as Emni worked her hair free strand by strand. "Got your Daddy's grip already," she said, eyeing Andrew's white-knuckled hold on the stroller handle for a moment. "You're gonna break hearts and wrists, baby girl. In that order."

Andrew, for his part, was cataloguing. Junie Bee joined a growing list in his head — Emni had been workshopping names for June since the day she was born, an ever-rotating rotation of Juniper Jones, Junie Marie, June who Hung the Moon (that one had gotten something close to a laugh out of him, because of course Emni would manage to make a nickname sound like a title). He filed Junie Bee next to Miracle Grow in the part of his brain that was apparently now permanently reserved for what people called his daughter, and wondered, idly, if any of them would stick, or if June would simply collect them all the way she seemed to be collecting everything else lately — light, sound, fistfuls of Romulan hair.

Once Emni had her hair back and pointed them toward the table where Tork, Xex, and Axod sat with the remains of a basket of cheese fries, Debbie was already moving — steering the parade float with the easy confidence of a woman who had never met an obstacle she couldn't whistle into submission. As they drew close, her eyes landed on Xex with the deliberate precision of someone who had been informed there was an Auntie in this story and intended to make absolutely sure everyone understood the org chart.

"Dr. Wang." Debbie's smile widened to something with teeth in it — friendly teeth, but teeth. She turned the stroller a fraction, presenting June to the table like a chef presenting a dish, and reached down to give the cartoon wormhole on June's shirt a proud little smooth. "Look at what we got her for her first Wormhole Day."

It was, Björn thought, a bit of a gauntlet throw. The two women had so lovingly taken to June in their own ways. Debbie as Grandma, of course, and Xex as an adoring Aunt. Andrew had worked closely with Xex when June had emerged from her planty pod, the biologist and the physician running scans to figure out just what June was. And in the process, June had decided Xex was her family now and sometimes refused to sleep until the Doctor made a midnight house call with cooings and doings that helped the little girl finally release her clutch on consciousness.

Björn was pretty sure Debbie took it a little personally when only Xex could remedy June's sleeplessness. Which probably explained the competitive edge she was bringing to this particular encounter with Xex, almost as if she expected the doctor to somehow produce a t-shirt trumping trinket to out-edge her own gift giving game.

Smirking, the Chameloid lowered himself into a chair with something between a sigh and a groan. Two weeks of broken sleep had a way of making even a mediocre chair feel like a small miracle. "Hello everyone," he rasped to the others warmly. Björn found himself grateful for their company on such a celebratory day--not just because they took some baby pressure off, but really he just enjoyed their company. He secretly wondered what June would do if one of Tork's ears came too close…

His ponderings were interrupted by movement out of the corner of his eye: a silvery hand sliding across the table. Xex certainly hadn’t missed his half-groan-half-sigh, and she was wasting no time slipping a slim packet under his hand. She gave him a knowing smile and murmured so that it would not carry past his ears, “I made some tweaks. This one should hopefully address the latest issue.”

Andrew settled in beside Björn, June's stroller angled so he could still see her without craning, one hand resting loosely on the handle even now. He didn't relax, exactly. But something in his shoulders eased fractionally as he looked to Tork, Xex, and Axod, offering each a tired smile in greeting. "Nice to see all of you," he said. And as his eyes settled on Xex, a true smile broke out. He'd come to adore the woman just as much as June apparently.

"Cheese fries," Björn said, eyeing the basket with academic interest, "are apparently the delicacy of choice today. Should we order more?" Looking at Xex, he subtly tapped the packet to draw her attention and no one else’s. He mouthed a silent thank you and then pulled a bottle of water from the Daddy Pack™️ slung over his shoulder. As Xex looked away and turned towards Debbie, he opened the small packet and tipped it into his drink. Andrew noticed and reached across to squeeze his leg supportively under the table, drawing a weary smirk back from Björn before he took a sip of the new concoction of vitamins and nutrients from Xex.

Xex’s return smile to Debbie was so perfectly neutral, it was almost notable. It was as though the doctor totally missed the teeth in the older woman’s smile, as though she had no idea what Debbie was doing, despite the older woman's formal greeting. “Debbie!” she returned with just enough enthusiasm not to sound fake. She swallowed down the last of her cheesy fry and half stood to peer into the float at the little being within, giving June a quick tickle on her tummy before looking up at Debbie again, “I would say you’ve outdone yourself, but I cannot imagine this is the peak of your skills. Oh, I wish she was going to remember this day,” she added half to Debbie and half to Axod next to her, actually sounding genuinely disappointed by the realization.

Then, as though a thought occurred to her, her brow crinkled further and her eyes slid to Andrew. She met his gaze and cocked her head to the side, as if you task, ‘Unless… maybe she will?’ Flashing him a conspiratorial smirk, she made a mental note to check memory cognition on June’s next visit.

Debbie almost frowned. Almost. But not quite. Like a dowager queen of old navigating a court of honeyed words backed by sharpened daggers, the matron’s face rent into an equally-too-polite mask. “Oh sweet summer child,” she cooed, reaching to gently cup one of June’s little cheeks while somehow directing the words sideways toward Xex. “All of daddy’s pictures will be in the photo albums Grandma’s making for you, won’t they?” Her eyes flicked back to Xex, taut lines around her not-quite-real smile. “Have you been in any of them yet? I’ve not seen any…” she faux-lamented.

Andrew, meanwhile, had nodded assent to Xex’s telegraphed thinking but was now grinning stupidly in the wake of Debbie’s reply. The brewing competition between the two women was apparently very amusing. He didn’t even try to hide his facial reactions as he reached forward to pick at the fries as well. Somehow gooey cheese had become the Sojo crew’s choice of food to bond over.

"Oh no," Xex said casually, flicking her wrist in a throwaway gesture, "I wouldn't want to take away from the Junebug herself. We'll make plenty of memories, won't we little one?" She flashed a smile into the pram, "There are always memories to be made int he Delta Quadrant."

Stepping out of the lift and looking around almost caused Thomas to get back on, mostly from the sheer number of people around, but he remembered this was a special event, and set out. Most of the good spots had been taken already, not surprising, but there were always other places to view the event if you knew where to look. As he walked through the packed area, the sights and scents sparked an idea for more snacks and something to drink. There seemed to be an incredible number of options today, so there was enough incentive for Thomas to take his time getting settled.

Having finished her meal, M'Razza took a breath and steeled herself, and said an affirmation under her breath before approaching Debbie and the group. She waved with a smile. "Hi, excuse me! Can I watch with you all? I'm Ensign M'Razza, I was posted on the station and I'm eager to meet more folks." With her tail flicking, she crossed her arms behind her back.

Axod’s eyes landed on M’Razza. His face brightened. “Ensign!” he called, his tone warm and jovial enough to carry over the surrounding conversation.

He lifted a hand in greeting and gestured toward the open seat nearby. “Pull up a seat!” The invitation was genuine and effortless, accompanied by an easy smile that made it clear she was welcome there. In a crew as small as theirs, Axod had always believed that no one should feel like an outsider for long.

Xex’s gesture joined Axod’s, “Of course, join! There are cheesy fries,” she added, in a low aside to the Caitian. Any hint of a boss-subordinate relationship was entirely gone from the doctor’s manner. On Wormhole day, they were all just Sojos.

At this point, Amarok and Declan had moved closer to the new family that had entered room. Declan had informed Amarok that they were the Captain's family, Amarok smiled and wondered if the infant would fear him or not, so he managed to convince Declan to position themselves so the Vulcan Human hybrid had his back to the family and the Romulan Reman hybrid could attempt to catch the infant's attention. He did his best not to attract everyone else's focus nearby, the occasional wave and tongue out face while Declan raised one eyebrow and made the cutest grunt sound of annoyance.

"What?" Amarok finally inquired facing his friend fully.

"You look ridiculous." Declan stated as if it was a fact that Amarok should know by now.

Amarok smirked. "Meeting infants is the only time one can be ridiculous."

"I highly doubt that," Declan said for he ever so slightly shifted that he could see the infant in his peripheral vision but not making it obvious.

Suddenly the triplets crowded the two Lieutenants resulting in a verbal telling off between them all in that way old friends did. "What were you looking at?" Leovinus finally asked as the playful banter subsided.

"The Captain's infant." Amarok answered, as he once again attempted to catch the infant's attention while trying to be inconspicuous to those around the infant. He wasn't entirely sure if he was successful but only time will tell.

"I see, cute." Brobostigan added with a smile of his own as he snuck a peek.

Scraliontis was next to do a quick glance and he grinned. "Cute indeed, I wish the Captain luck."

"As do I," Declan added.

Amarok wondered what he could offer to help the family cope, but he'd have to give it some thought and maybe do some research.

Emni, somehow finding herself in the roll of hostess and convener of crew, slid back into her seat next to Tork a few moments after everyone settled in. She made sure to offer the bevvy of newcomers greetings and smiles of welcome, piggybacking off of Axod's warmth to the Caitian woman that she had only had passing opportunity to say hello to until now. The Rigelians were in full triplet mode and she found herself shaking her head as they descended on the science chief that had, along with the Vulcan scientist that had recently joined the crew, taken up a set of chairs and the extra table that Emni had carefully tugged into place earlier, giving their seating arrangement almost the feel of a long family dinner table. Quietly she ticked off, in her head, the crew she knew would have requested leave to watch the wormhole from the station. She suspected it wasn't a full list. Some had simply taken an opportune moment to disembark so they could partake of the festivities. But she also wanted to make sure there were enough chairs.

It was Tork, sliding his fingers between her own and squeezing before leaning toward her that brought her back to the moment at hand.

"Got you running around ragged, don't they, Em?" the Ferengi said with an impish smirk. "But I will say, you playing host doesn't actually feel all that unusual when you see it up close. Just don't forget to take a moment when you need it, eh?"

Emni's lips quirked into an appreciatively and not entirely impishness-free smile of her own at his words. She squeezed his hand, leaving hers entwined with his rather than releasing him. "Thank you," she said softly enough for the words to stay between them -- not a difficult feat with the Ferengi's enhanced hearing.

Finally, Emni spotted Thomas from across the room. She didn't know the man well, but had enjoyed her conversation with him when he joined. He had a knack for asking good questions that showed his real interest in being part of the crew rather than simply filling a slot and working through his assignment. Carefully unlacing herself from Tork's grip she stood and raised a hand, waving it once, twice, and then a third time until she was sure the man's eyes had caught her. She aimed for eye contact of her own and beckoned, pointing to a chair to make sure he knew he was welcome to join.

The sheer press of being present made it a lot harder to pick out individuals, however the waving hand did catch his attention and caused Thomas to look in its direction. Catching the motion, he nodded a quick assent and began the almost-dance like movement of dodging people, furniture, and other hazards to reach the table, clutching pouch two rather large, internally divided, self-sealing vacuum bags as he moved. The contents of one were a selection of authentic beef jerky flavors, and the other were dried fruits. "Afternoon, all. Ready for the event?" Thomas asked politely.

The Romulan XO gestured broadly to the assembled folks and offered him a welcoming grin. "As ready as I suppose we can get?" she answered. "Grab any empty seat."

After a nod of confirmation from the scientist she slid back into her seat and grinned a Tork. "I think that's everyone," she said just before a voice filled the space around them. The voice seemed to come from everywhere and no where all at once--a testament to the new technologies that were built into the station.

"Good afternoon! the voice said in a calm, but somehow warm feminine voice.

A hush fell over those assembled, broken only by the murmur of whispered noises and the occasional sound of children. Suddenly the background hum of technology was more obvious, as the voices of the crowd diminished. Those who had clearly enjoyed the sight before were the first to turn their attention to the enormous floor to ceiling viewing space. Emni tracked the turning of their heads as the voice continued. "We hope you enjoy the sight of this month's wormhole viewing--made possible because of the Barzan compact which brought together races from across the Alpha and Beta Quadrants toward a common goal of exploration. The aperture will open in 10... 9... 8..."

With a quick movement Emni snagged Tork's hand again, running her thumb across the back of his hand before squeezing gently. She chanced a smile in his direction, turning back just as the voice counted, "3... 2... 1..."

As the count reached 0 it was almost as though the room full of people collectively held their breath. There was a moment of near silence, the stars winking from the distant homes and the small line of ships appearing to be almost pinned in place.

And then light.

The aperture of the Barzan wormhole unwound as if it were a flower opening its petals to reach for the sun. A pinprick of light--almost appearing to be a new star--was the only warning before the space was flooded with the blues, purples, and whites of the sight filled the space. They were so close that one might almost imagine they could reach out to touch the phenomenon's outermost edges.

Gasps could be heard, mostly from the mouths of the uninitiated, while a smattering of applause made its way around the room.

After a moment the first of the ships lined up for their return to the Alpha Quadrant disappeared into the swirling lights. A moment later the nose of a different ship emerged, quickly revealing the vessel behind it -- a Benzite freighter.

Xex’s face was like a child’s: open with wonder and delighted at the spectacle happening before her. The colors were mesmerizing, almost more so than the aurora she’d sought to view several days ago, their edges more solid, their mixing more of a kaleidoscope than an ombré. Flashing a grin at Axod– this was absolutely worth showing up for– she leaned to the other side toward June murmuring to the child, “Look! A ship!” She pointed, and while she was reasonably certain through their monitoring and tests that June could see the colors and shapes as far away as the aperture’s opening, it was anyone’s guess as to their definition in her unique eyes.

The beauty of the wormhole was something Axod could see musicians and artists on his homeworld composing masterpieces in honour of. Unique, stunning, beyond words.

The click of Björn’s camera signaled the capturing of the wormhole’s facade on film. But it was in little June’s eyes that the dazzling beauty of the wormhole twin-pooled and caused the little girl to reach forward and up, giggling as she tried to touch it like the spinners on her stroller.

It wasn't until the third ship had exited the wormhole, the fourth of the line of 10 to 15 on the Delta Quadrant side, starting its entrance, when a wave of something unseeable hit the station. Deck plates shook, and then rattled, making it clear that something had hit the station, though what was entirely unclear. Murmurs of uncertainty filtered through the space as the viewers looked around, clocking the reaction of others to decide how much to be concerned. It was clear this wasn't a normal part of the wormhole watching experience.

A moment later the red alert klaxons went off.

The loud whining sound wound up like an air raid siren of old, starting at a low tone and ramping up to peak before pausing and restarting. Heads turned, looking first to the red bezels that now flashed and then, gauging those around them as well as the distance to the nearest doors. For one terrible moment everyone seemed frozen in indecision, and then the second blast hit.

This was far more dramatic than the first, toppling many of those standing and sending chairs and tables sliding. Vendors scrambled to hold down loose items and several of the folks along the edges bolted for the door, barely waiting for the tremor to subside before determining that they no longer wanted to be there.

Out in the vastness of space the wormhole--slated to be open for a full 30 minutes--almost appeared to shudder. The brilliant swirling blues and purples sped up and almost seemed to writhe and then, without warning and faster than it had appeared, the aperture seemed to blink and then wink out of existence.

In the brief lull between blasts, Xex had a moment to wonder if it was her who was the reason all space phenomena witnessed aboard Pathfinder ended in disaster. Visions of her and Mei’s ill-fated attempt to view the space aurora flashed briefly through her head and she braced securely, having only enough time to murmur, “Again?” and then clamp a hand around Axod’s forearm in a meager attempt to stop him toppling from his chair before the second wave hit.

Despite her best efforts, Xex could not overcome the sheer physics of the tilting, trembling deckplates and her chair slid bodily toward June’s pram, fetching up against its side and throwing her against its edge. She grunted as pain flashed briefly along her ribs, but braced her feet in an attempt to not topple the pram and its precious cargo. “June?” she asked, peering past the decorations for a glimpse of frond or face.

At times like this Amarok tr'Ragnar hated his aging body, it wasn't so easy to get back on his feet as some many times before when the unexpected hit. He was on top of the pile of limbs and bodies known as Declan, Leovinus, Brobostigan and Scraliontis before he stood once more. That second impact was a doozy as the humans would put it.

The five friends checked on each other and after a round of confirmations, tr'Ragnar, being a senior officer got to work. "I get the sense the Sojourner might be ordered to launch soon, so I suggest you all get ready."

"What about you?" Declan inquired gently.

"I'm going to check in with the command team." Amarok replied with a smile. "You probably should get to your lab, I think the station's sensors may be lacking where ours can support."

Declan nodded and the four headed out to board the Sojourner. tr'Ragnar meanwhile made his way over to t'Nai and Kodak. "Captain, Commander, is everyone okay?" He said as he inspected his fellow crewmates.

Emni and Tork, once they'd regained their feet and given each other a once over, had reached Kodak's side just a few moments before the Reman scientist. She glanced to the other man, nodding her acknowledgement of his arrival and shifting to include him in the haphazard circle.

"No," Emni confirmed managing at least a small quirk to her lips at the comment, "but good question." Quickly the Romulan peered around them, doing a quick head count. It took her a moment to realize that several of their crew were no longer in the immediate vicinity. Frowning she looked to Amarok for clarification.

"Mr. Declan and the three Rigelian officers that were sitting with you," she began, peering around again just in case she'd somehow missed them.

"I've ordered my Stellar Cartographer back to the ship to help the station's sensors analyze what just happened, I only just arrived here but I can say safely that that wasn't supposed to happen?" Amarok inquired to help lighten the mood, "right?" He added with a concerned smile.

Relief welled up in the XO. Of course... even off duty their crew was well trained in how to handle an emergency. Skies only knew it was key to what had kept many of them alive over the last months.

"Sojourner should be well out of dock for a run down on sensors and a few other items that needed checking after the upgrades," Emni offered, looking to Tork for confirmation as his team were the ones doing the bulk of the the tests. "You may want to call them back or let them know to standby.

Emni took one more neck-craning check around them, this time expressly looking for Xex and Axod. A lump of worry filled her throat only quelling when she put eyes on the Doosdarian counselor and confirmed he was, at least on visible inspection, not hurt.

"How would you like to proceed, sir?" She asked, turning back to Kodak.

To Be Continued...

A mission post by --

Captain Bjorn Kodak
Commanding Officer

Lieutenant Commander Emni t'Nai
Executive Officer

Lieutenant Tork
Chief Engineer

Lieutenant Xex Wang
Chief Medical Officer

Lieutenant Axod Qo
Ship's Counselor

Lieutenant Amarok t'Ragnar
Chief Scientist

Lieutenant JG Thomas Mitchell
Assistant Chief Scientist

Ensign M'Razza
Nurse

Andrew Munro
Biologist

Lieutenant JG Declan
Stellar Cartographer

Ensign Leovinus
Matter/Energy Systems Specialist

Ensign Scaliontis
Astrometrist

Ensign Brobostigan
Exo-Botanist

And...

The inimitable Debbie Gless
Chief Diner Matron and Grandmother to June

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