THE EDGE OF THE FEDERATION

EPISODE 8: "THE ART OF BEGINNINGS"

Written By Alex Matthews

Based on 'Star Trek' 
created by Gene Roddenberry

Star Trek and all related marks, logos and characters are solely owned by CBS Studios Inc. This fan fiction is not endorsed by, sponsored by, nor affiliated with CBS, Paramount Pictures, or any other Star Trek franchise, and is a non-commercial fan-made fiction intended for recreational use.  No commercial exhibition or distribution is permitted. No alleged independent rights will be asserted against CBS or Paramount Pictures.

Copyright (c) 2021

Produced by Sojournerverse Productions

STARRING

Matt Damon as CAPTAIN CHRISTOPHER APRIL
Rose Leslie as COMMANDER MAYA KENT 
Christina Chang as DR. PATRICIA SONG 
Ed Skrein as COMMANDER WARREN MACKENZIE
Gabriel-Kane Day-Lewis as LT. EDWARD HEMMINGWAY 
Jack Hunter as LT. TIMOTHY DI MARCO
Lesley-Ann Brandt as COMMANDER ANNIKA BARD  
Natalie Dormer as LT. COMMANDER SIRANNA 

GUEST STARRING

Gwendoline Christie as LT. FREIDA RASMUSSEN 
Sanaa Latham as DR. OLIVIA KENDRICK
Jeffrey Dean Morgan as JACK BATESON
Lucy Lawless as ADMIRAL ELIZABETH HANNAH
and
Mark Lenard as SAREK

========================================================

Consciousness slowly returned to Chris April. It was the dull throb of pain throughout his entire body that convinced him that he was indeed alive. Somehow, I doubt the after-life would hurt this much. Or at least, that’s what I’m hoping.
As he blinked blearily, the harsh light shining down on him causing him to squint, April tried to understand what was happening. Where he was. Not to mention, how the hell he ended up there. 
“Welcome back to the land of the living.” The gentle voice and soothing tone of Olivia Kendrick cut through the fog of his addled, waking brain. As his vision finally cleared up, April saw her leaning over him.
His throat was dry and scratchy, which made it difficult to speak, but he managed a hoarse, “Where..?”
“City Memorial Hospital,” Olivia explained, carefully helping to ease him into a seated position. She then offered him a glass of water, which he gratefully sipped through the provided straw, easing the sand-paper-like quality of his throat. 
He offered a muted thanks, as he took in his bright, antiseptic surroundings. A private room, by the look of things. The steady sound of bio-function monitors beeping and chirping almost inaudibly in the background. 
His confusion and need for answers must have been written all over his face, because Olivia offered a proud smile, “It worked, Chris. You and Commander Bard did it.”
“Although you nearly killed yourself in the process.” To say April was surprised to hear that particular voice was an understatement. He was astounded to see Rear-Admiral Elizabeth Hannah enter the suite alongside Maya Kent. “Not exactly what we like our starship captains to do.”
His confusion only continued to grow. “What do you mean?”
It was Olivia who answered, “Apparently, you had an allergic reaction to the neurozine gas. Everyone else suffering from the overdose have already been treated and released. But you’ve been unconscious for the better part of a week.”
A week?! April was astounded. “What about everything else? The infection?”
Olivia’s smile eased his immediate concerns, “It’s all under control. Dr Song and I have been working with full government support to develop and produce a treatment. In the meantime, all those who were exposed have been placed in medically-induced comas until they can be treated.”
That was very good news. April looked to Kent, who seemed to understand what he was going to ask. “The Hannock and the crew have been doing what they can to help, sir. We’ve been working alongside the crew of the Montgomery and the Kilimanjaro.”
“It’s no understatement to say that you pretty much saved the entire planet, Chris,” quipped Hannah, her stern features softened by an amused grin. “If not the entire system. Nice work.”
A wave of exhaustion swept over April, which he failed miserably to hide. Olivia quickly waved off his visitors, before excusing herself as well. April was sorry to see them all go - he still had so many questions. 
But as he fell back into a needed slumber, he knew they would have to wait for now.

*		*		*

Sarek was no expert on medical matters or the usual timeline progression in the work needed to create a new kind of pharmaceutical product. However, he was confident that they were not usually formulated as expediently as this particular one.
To say that the Trade Commission had poured much time, money and resources into the development of this effort would be an understatement. Not surprising though, given the involvement of one of their own Assistant Directors in the proliferation of the outbreak that necessitated this treatment.
Lerak had been stripped of all his governmental clearances, his financial assets frozen or impounded. The man himself was currently under psychiatric evaluation at a secure holding facility, having suffered a complete nervous breakdown after the events from before and after his being taken into custody.  
It would be wrong for Sarek to admit that he took a small degree of satisfaction in the target of his months-long investigation finally being under guard. That said, the Vulcan was willing to admit, if only to himself, that he did, indeed, enjoy his work being vindicated.
However, for the moment, his thoughts were more focused on his growing sense of concern for Siranna. 
At her request, he had stayed at her side as she lay underwent a specially-designed course of treatment for her condition. For several hours now, she had been in an unconscious state, strapped to the treatment bed in the infirmary of the Starfleet facility on Rigel IV. While the other survivors of the attack on the observation outpost had now been transferred to Rigel V, Siranna had chosen to remain here, to offer what help she could to Dr Song.
Throughout the last two weeks, since the unexpected attack against the Rigellian Trade Commission's Executive Assembly, the two women had worked tirelessly alongside the hand-picked team assembled from all across the Rigel system. They had been joined by several prominent Starfleet and Federation medical experts to help in finding a way to cure the malady that had been unleashed on the Rigel system.
Sarek could not help but marvel at Siranna’s fierce determination. He suspected it was borne out of a private degree of guilt in that she had been unable to save the people from the settlement she had visited. Their deaths, as well as those of the personnel from the outpost she had commanded, would be weighing heavily on her conscience. 
There had also been the disappointing news from the city of Vanir. The infected who had been swarming the embattled city had succumbed to the elements before their own conditions had proved fatal. They had been beyond help by the time medical and security teams had arrived to offer what aid they could to the Hill People who had been forced to fight their own.
At least that would not be the case for all the others who had been infected. Even now, the treatment devised, tested and produced in record time was being distributed to all those affected. The two technicians who had been recovered alongside Siranna, having been exposed and infected the longest, already showed remarked signs of improvement. It was an excellent start and indicated that those poor souls who were caught up in the incident on New Jaleyl would soon be treated and return to normality.
Now, it was time to see if that work would prove as beneficial for Siranna on a more personal level.
Sarek waited with all the patience he could muster as Dr Song ran her medical scanner over Siranna’s body. She paid particular attention to the display readouts on the screen above the bed as neurological readings appeared. “Everything looks good.”
Exchanging the scanner for a hypospray, Song loaded in a cartridge, before pressing it against Siranna’s neck. She gave Sarek what seemed to be a hopeful look, “Keep your fingers crossed.”
The Vulcan declined to comment on the childishness of the human gesture for wishing ’good luck’. He merely replied with the slight arching of his left eyebrow. In this case, though, he could not help but appreciate the human woman’s sentiment.  Privately, his hands held behind his back, he did indeed indulge in the gesture. 
After a protracted moment, Siranna blinked. Her bright blue eyes looked out unfocused at her surroundings for several seconds until she finally seemed to focus on him. Her voice was strained and hoarse as she spoke, “Sarek?”
“It is I, Siranna.” He offered a polite incline of his head. “How do you… feel?”
It seemed the question caught her off-guard. What is more, her surprised reaction was clear for all to see. The obvious display of emotion unnerved Sarek, as she finally answered his question, “I am unsure how to articulate my response.”
With great care, once Song had removed the restraints keeping her secure, Siranna delicately pushed herself off the bio-bed. Once she was confident her legs would not buckle, she looked to Song, “Physically, I appear to be well. At least, in my own estimation. What is your opinion, Doctor?”
Song offered a tired smile, “You’re clear of the Oleini Fever. As for the neurotoxin effects, we’ve done all that we can.”
She indicated the overhead scans, “The areas of the brain that were under the most assault have returned to their usual baseline. The treatment that was devised for the Zami Rigellians was mostly adaptable to use on you as well.”
Siranna nodded, although somewhat distractedly, it seemed to Sarek. Since she seemed disinclined to ask any further questions, Sarek took it upon himself, “Doctor, I am curious. You were able to work around your concerns about the treatment affecting quality of life?”
“Once I was able to consult with people who knew a lot more about Vulcanoid physiology and neurology then I did,“ Song admitted modestly. 
Something about the way Siranna seemed to be acting increased Sarek’s already-growing concern. “How did you deal with the noted neurological differences between Vulcan and Zami brain structure? The mesiofrontal cortex, for example.”
The confused frown Song answered him with did not ease Sarek’s worries. She instead fixed Siranna with a disappointed look. “You didn’t tell him?”
Siranna remained studiously silent under Song’s disapproving glare. “An oversight I will correct now, if you will allow us a moment?”
With a final reproachful sigh, Song nodded before turning to leave. Sarek watched her go, before turning his attention to Siranna. “What is it you neglected to tell me?”
Siranna met his gaze evenly. “As you yourself pointed out, there are significant differences between Vulcan and Zami neurological structure. As a result of this, while the treatment has indeed done what it intended, in my case, it will also cause some additional side-effects.”
“What kind of side-effects?”
Sarek saw the faint glimmer of shame in Siranna’s eyes before she managed to control it. As she answered his question, she merely confirmed what he had already begun to discern. “The ability to control and suppress my emotions will be affected, as you no doubt have already witnessed. As for how much? I cannot say for certain. As the humans say, ‘only time will tell’.”
Sarek allowed himself the briefest of disappointed frowns, “Why did you not tell me of this earlier?”
This time, Siranna made no attempt to hide her flash of fierce pride and defiant stubbornness, or the hardness of her tone, “Because it was my decision to make, Sarek.” 
She took a moment before continuing, more calmly, “No one else’s. If I had not undergone the treatment, it would only have been a matter of time before I succumbed completely to the negative emotions I was experiencing. Either that, or I would have suffered a complete synaptic breakdown.” She shook her head, “I did not want to experience either of those fates, so I did what I had to.”
“That I understand,” Sarek commented softly, surprising himself with the amount of gentle affection he allowed himself to use. “What I meant was, why did you not think you could share this burden with me?”
Siranna’s eyes misted with tears for a moment, before she swallowed down her emotions, “Because, dear Sarek, we both know that I have never been one to do things the easy way.” 
“There was a time that was not the case,” he reminded her. 
“Indeed.” To anyone not of Vulcan, the sad smile Siranna allowed herself would have been imperceptible. “But after Kirov’s death. I finally realized that the path of Surak, as was laid out by everyone around me, was not my true path. I had to find my own way of balancing the emotional birthright we are born with, with the demands of our heritage.” 
“I believe I have found that now. That my own efforts to accept and embrace emotion without being overwhelmed by it, or sacrificing the coolness and serenity of logic, have lead me to this point.” 
Sarek could see this was not easy for her to admit, but he welcomed her honesty. Could see just how truly strong she was, even after all these years away from home. All the years surrounded by humans and all the other emotionally turbulent species within the Federation.
How arrogant I have been. It appears I still have much more to learn then I originally believed.

*		*		*

Chris April could not believe what he was hearing. “They want to do what?”
When Liz Hannah had summoned him to a meeting at the temporary office she’d established at the Security Training Facility, April hadn’t really known what to expect. Since his release from the hospital, he’d been on strict instructions to rest, so leaving Maya Kent in command of the Hannock had been easy choice, while he enjoyed the hospitality afforded by the Rigellian Trade Commission.
That said, he had known it wouldn’t last forever, despite how much he was enjoying getting his planet-side legs back, feeling the sun on his face. Waking up most mornings to find Olivia still in bed beside him. So, when he got the call, he had a feeling it would be to retake command of the Hannock and head back to Starbase 12. 
So, when he had arrived to find that both Commanders Kent and Bard had also been summoned, he’d been more then a little mystified. But that confusion soon became disbelief as the rear-admiral explained the true point of the briefing.
“As I told you,” Liz replied, with that annoying sly smile of hers he remembered from many a poker game, “Starfleet has been approaching the Trade Commission about increasing our presence within the system.” Her countenance grew a tad more serious, “This is a new century, and the fleet needs all the ships and resources it can get if the Federation is going to keep expanding at its current rate. There are already new designs of ships going into production that will be the next wave in technology and exploration.”
Hannah pressed a control on the table. On the wall viewer, an image of the Rigel V Shipyards appeared. It was a magnificent site to behold, a crown jewel of the system. “The Rigel system is going to be at the forefront of that. We already have construction contracts with many of the biggest shipbuilding firms here. What we need to do is fortify that position. Dissuade anyone else from thinking this place is an easy target.”
Given everything that had happened, April couldn’t agree more. It seemed Bard and Kent were thinking along the same lines. “We still have no idea who was really responsible for what happened,” commented the security commander. “To be honest, we may never find out. They covered their tracks well.”
Hannah nodded, grim-faced. “Not an ideal scenario, but one we might have to accept. At least for the moment. But it highlights the importance of having a firmer Starfleet presence here.”
April felt a shudder of disgust, still trying to understand the massive convoluted web of events he and his crew had become immersed in. It was one thing to discover that the disgraced Veran Lerak had devised a plan to eliminate the Hill People in order to make a profit.
But it was something else entirely to discover that outside forces had deliberately sabotaged that plan. All evidence they had collected over the past few weeks supported Lerak’s denials of any idea about the modified Oleini Fever. All the files from the black-market lab he’d hired to cultivate the Fever for deployment proved it had never been intended to have the neurotoxic effects it had later manifested. 
It was believed that it was these same saboteurs who ‘arranged’ for the dosing of both the crew of the mercenary ship that crashed on Rigel IV and the Executive Assembly. But as for what their endgame had been, April and his people were still totally in the dark. 
“That said,” Hannah continued, “while the Trade Commission has declined Starfleet’s request to construct our own orbital starbase within the system, they are happy to approve an alternate plan.”
“Allow me to introduce you to Starbase 134.”
She pressed controls again, this time the viewer displayed a computer-generated schematic of the Security Training Facility. Over the course of several second, as Hannah narrated, wire-frame representations of more buildings sprung to life around it. “We’re going to expand our existing facilities on Rigel IV because, as the saying goes, ‘you go with what works’.”
April watched with wonder as the ground-based starbase began to take shape. The original Facility building was outdated, but these newer constructions would be more top-of-the-line. “These new buildings will allow for an increase in personnel, accommodation for Corps of Engineers and the newly formed Advanced Starship Design Bureau teams that will work with the Rigel V shipyards personnel. There will also be an expansion in scientific and medical facilities, while allowing for diplomatic hosting.”
Bard opened her mouth to speak, but Hannah silenced her with a raised hand and a supportive smile, “The starbase will also continue to host advanced security training. I think you’ll find that role is still yours as long as you want it, Commander?”
The pleased grin Bard offered in return was answer in itself. April surveyed the image on the screen as it began to fill in detail and shift to a more life-like representation. “This is going to be a big job,” he muttered in awe, as well as a twinge of jealousy. “A lot of work putting it all together.”
“Indeed.” He recognized the teasing lilt in Liz’s voice. He gave her a quizzical look, noticing her ‘cat-that-ate-the-canary’ twinkle in her eyes. “But at the suggestion of the Trade Commission and their Department of External Affairs, we already have a suitable candidate in mind.”
A chill of nervous anticipation swept over April. She can’t mean… No, there’s no way Starfleet Command would ever go there… Right? Still, the way Liz was looking at him, April couldn’t help but get his hopes up. He wasn’t disappointed.
“What do you say, Chris? Are you up for the challenge?”

*		*		*

Maya Kent looked on, feeling like her heart would explode out of her chest thanks to the sheer amount it was swelling with pride currently. 
Chris April was fidgeting in his new uniform. Gone was the normal attire of a starship captain. Now, he wore the uniform of a flag officer. The darker two-piece had a little more give then the line officer’s jumpsuit. Instead of the standard hollow delta insignia on the left breast, there was the starburst symbol of Starfleet Command. 
Finally, there was the boxed single pip on either side of his collar that was denoting his new rank. “How does it feel, Commodore?”
April shot her a dirty look, “Did you deliberately program the fabric synthesizer to make this one extra itchy as a hazing prank?” He finally gave up his endless adjusting, before looking at himself in the mirror. His expression one of sadness, “I never thought this would happen.”
Kent put her hand on his shoulder in a gesture of support, “It’s a long time overdue.” She met his eyes via his reflection, “You deserve this, Chris.”
April turned to look at her, his surprise at her using his given name all over his face. It was something she only did when they were in private, like now, and even then, rarely. He had been her commanding officer for so long, that even though he had allowed her the privilege for years, it was one she did not often use. Now felt like one of those times. 
He then shot her an impish look, “You only say that because it means you get to take over the centre seat, Captain.”
Kent couldn’t help a somewhat girlish giggle at the use of the title. While she had agreed to serve as Executive Officer of the newly commissioned Starbase 134 and retained her existing rank as a full Commander, April had a point. 
With the Hannock now permanently assigned to the Rigel system as the new base’s flagship, Kent would also pull double duty as the Ganges-class scout’s permanent commanding officer. In fact, for the time being, until the construction of residential areas and the arrival of new personnel, many of the crew would be doing the same. The Hannock itself would only be manned by a skeleton crew for the next few months, unless called into action for whatever reason. 
It was all change, but they were welcome ones. April had already admitted to her in confidence how close he’d been to resigning, to ending his time in Starfleet. It had helped her understand what had motivated him to accept Admiral Hannah’s offer and the promotion. Why he felt it was time to leave command of a starship and make a change.
Speaking of changes, Kent was reminded of one in particular when there was a gentle knock on the door, and Olivia Kendrick popped her head in. “Permission to enter, Commodore?”
April chuckled softly, “I think I’ll allow it.” 
Olivia stepped in to the previously-empty and unused office space in the former Security Training Facility that now acted as April’s private office near the Operations Centre. She offered Kent a polite nod and friendly smile of welcome, before closing the distance between herself and April.
As the two embraced and kissed affectionately, Kent marvelled at the fact that out of everything that happened, the captain - sorry, commodore - had found love again. She had seen the subtle clues at the time, but hadn’t really thought beyond that due to having to deal with murderous zombies and crashing shuttles. Now, she could have slapped herself for not taking more note.
She hadn’t seen April this full of ’joie de vivre’ for years. Not since the death of his wife, Melinda. Kent had been lucky enough to meet the amazing woman a few times before her illness had grown too severe. In the years since, she’d never seen April even notice other women, but now that she had gotten to know Olivia Kendrick a little better, she could see the similarities that must have attracted April, as well as the differences that made her stand out as her own person. 
It also served as a stark reminder to Kent that maybe her own short-sightedness needed to be re-examined when it came to eking out a personal life alongside the commitment to her Starfleet career. 
Maybe it’s not just Chris who can get a fresh start here, she ruminated privately. Or rather, if she was honest with herself, not so much a fresh start, as a second chance with a certain engineer.
If I haven’t pushed him too far away…

*		*		*

It was a solemn duty that marked the ending of Chris April’s first week in his new rank and role as Commanding Officer of Starbase 134. 
Time had seemed to pass some damn quickly these last few weeks. With the dedication of the new outpost, the arrival of the preliminary S.C.E. team and all the other thousands of tasks he had agreed to take on, this one stood out from the rest.
Because it was time to bid final goodbyes to two of his crew.
The entire crew of the Starship Hannock had turned out in full dress uniform. The ship was on full automatic pilot to allow them this, because there wasn’t one of them on-board whose life hadn’t been touched by Hank Anderson. 
The small launch bay was packed tight, even the launch control booth being standing room only. The air thick with the grief of forty-odd people. Even Sarek, Siranna and Olivia were in attendance. As the austere funereal transport container, gifted by the Trade Commission, that contained Anderson’s earthly remains, was loaded into the shuttlepod, everyone stood to attention. 
The only one who didn’t was a tearful Freida Rasmussen, confined to a mobility-aid chair due to her injuries. She maintained a stiff, grim-faced façade while flanked by Maya and Warren Mackenzie, each offering emotional support. 
Whereas many Starfleet officers now chose to commit their bodies to the stars, Anderson’s service file had requested that he be sent back home to Vega Colony. His family had their own burial plot, their ancestors dating back to the founding of the colony with a tradition of being interred there. So, the crew had gathered to say their final goodbyes to the man, before they would retire to the Mess Hall to share their memories of him in a wake.
What small ceremony they had planned had come to an end only moments ago. Now, as the majority of the crew made their exit, only a handful of people remained as the shuttle pilot completed final checks. Once they were ready, they would take the Forrest and rendezvous with the Kilimanjaro, which would transport Admiral Hannah back to Starbase 12 before continuing on to Earth.
“Pleasant journeys, Lieutenant.” April offered his hand to Freida, who shakily took it and offered what handshake she could. She still looked shockingly frail and weak, her injuries requiring significant physical therapy that she had chosen to conduct on Earth.
“Thank you, sir,” she quietly replied. “It will be a long trip, but it will give me time to catch up on my scientific journals, as well as get started on my therapy.” The Kilimanjaro, a Bonaventure-class like the Lexington, was a top-of-the-line ship with a large medical staff that would help Freida begin the arduous regime that would hopefully allow her full use of her legs again. 
Still, it would take a lot of time, though, which had dashed April’s hopes of keeping her as his Science Officer.  
As Warren carefully eased her chair into the shuttle, Freida offered a final salute, “It was an honour to serve with you, Commodore.”
He returned the old-fashioned gesture with one of his own. She had earned that and so much more for her time under his command. “The honour was all mine, Lieutenant.”

*		*		*

Dealing with volatile emotions was a Vulcan’s lot in life. With her ability to control them no longer as effective as it once was, Siranna had decided that she would no longer feel embarrassed by any accidental slips or displays of those emotions. 
Still, she could not help but be flustered by her open-mouthed shock at Commodore April’s surprising offer. “This is quite unexpected, sir.”
“Let me be blunt, Ms. Siranna,” April went on to explain. “I planned on retaining my previous Science Officer, but as you are aware, she was badly hurt and would not be able to take on the role here.”
She nodded briskly, her expression once again as stoic as she could manage, “Of course, sir. I understand.”
April then offered a sly grin, “That said, if I am going to recruit someone, I’d be a fool to pass you up.“ She did not blink or back down from his studious gaze, “You are eminently qualified for the position. You also have local knowledge and a working relationship and understanding of the system in general, this world in particular.”
She understood the hidden meaning behind his words. “Are you offering to reactivate my commission, Commodore?”
He nodded firmly just the once. “Your rank, and the position of Chief Science Officer, are yours if you want them.”
Siranna felt a degree of pride at his correct, if simplistic, assessment of her time in the Rigel system. She had come here after having her Starfleet commission placed on the inactive roster, needing to deal with her grief over Kirov. She had come to experience a high degree of satisfaction in her work.
In essence, she had grown to love it here. It had become home, despite its myriad of difference from the sandy plains of Vulcan. It would be logical for her to continue. 
It appeared that Commodore April mistook her silence for hesitation, not consideration. His expression wavered, “If you need some time to think about it--”
“No.” Her answer was firm and definitive. Siranna enjoyed the somewhat startled look in the man’s eyes. As humans say, turnabout is fair-play. “I believe I see and appreciate the logic in your offer and would be grateful for the opportunity to serve.”
With a widening grin, April stood. “I’ll get the paperwork started. Your rank will be reinstated by the end of the day.”
“Welcome to Starbase 134, Lieutenant Commander Siranna.”

*		*		*

As he read the article forwarded to him by Sarek from the Rigel V news report, Chris April wasn’t sure how he felt about it. 
‘Incarcerated Assistant Director Dead,” declared the article’s headline, while a smaller subtitle stated “Suicide Believed To Be Cause Of Death”. April scoffed at the far-too-sensationalist spin on the piece, wondering if it had been the same with certain publications after the death of John Henry Paxton or General Green back on Old Earth. 
He wouldn’t mourn the passing of the man, that was for sure. But he also suspected it wasn’t as simple as the news report made out. Lerak had been a broken man, but suicidal? April didn’t feel convinced of that. Especially given the mysterious party that had been responsible for tampering with the Oleini Fever. 
A group or person unknown who could do that, it stood to reason that they could pull enough strings behind the scenes to stage a suicide. It was pure supposition on April’s part, he knew well enough, but it seemed Sarek and Olivia were also thinking along the same lines. 
Since her elevation by unanimous vote to the post of Assistant Director of External Affairs, Olivia had worked tirelessly as Lerak’s successor to move against all the corruption within the ranks of the Trade Commission. Her alliance with Sarek and the Federation Consulate had proved a boon, as the wealth of evidence the Vulcan and his team had amassed, thanks to Edward Hemmingway’s assistance, was now paying dividends. 
It could also have put Olivia in the crosshairs of whatever shadowy force might be responsible for Lerak’s death, but his new love was fearless and feisty. She wasn’t backing down, not after the death she’d witnessed as a result of Lerak’s greed.  The greater ties between Starfleet, the Federation and the Trade Commission that had been forged in the past month or so offered her substantial protection, and Olivia intended to put it to good use.
It was one of the reasons Chris April had grown to love her in such a short space of time.
He turned the data-slate off as he heard the footfalls of someone approaching from behind. Tossing a quick look over his shoulder confirmed what he already knew, “Afternoon, Commander.”
“Sir.” Maya Kent joined him on the small walkway outside the observation veranda of the main building of Starbase 134. In official documents and blueprints, what had once been the Security Training Facility was now designated the Administration, Reception and Command Complex. The personnel had simply taken to calling it ‘Command Centre’ and the name had stuck with the S.C.E. team too. 
It was 1500 hours, local time and it had become something of a daily ritual for the station commander and his X.O. to meet up and survey the developing construction efforts for the rest of the starbase. Already, the skeletal framework and foundations for the new Residential Apartment Block had taken shape. Then work would move onto the dedicated scientific and medical facilities, then office and workshops and a shuttle hanger.
It would take a while, but it would eventually become something to behold. A blend of looks and designs from native architects of the Rigel system, as well as Starfleet craftsmen and civilian contractors. It had been a point of contention for Kent, who wondered why there wasn’t a simple unity to the design, even after both Admiral Hannah and April himself had explained the reasoning. 
It was felt that in order to symbolize a unified spirit of cooperation, that elements of all the Rigellian worlds and colonies needed to be incorporated. In many way, the Rigel system was a microcosm  of the Federation at large and it should - it needed - to be honoured and reflected in the design of the new starbase.
He heard Kent whisper something under her breath, with a hint of disdain. He couldn’t quite make it out, and needless to say, he enjoyed needling his trusted Number One, “What was that, Maya?”
She let out a frustrated sigh, “I was just saying, it’s going to look like a damn chimera.” Kent then waved dismissively at the vague shapes of buildings to come, “A giant mismatched hodgepodge of buildings.”
April grinned with amusement. She doesn’t know how right she actually is. He recognized the term from grade-school lessons, as well as Kent’s own interpretation of it. “You’re referring to the Greek myth, of Bellerophon fighting the beastly Chimera?” 
 Kent nodded, looking at him askance, “Of course.”
“But there’s actually another meaning to the term ‘chimera’,” he explained. “where it’s defined as 'a thing which is hoped for but is illusory or impossible to achieve'.”
It was evident from Kent’s face that this was news to her. “Well, that’s kind of defeatist, isn’t it.”
“Oh, no, not at all,” April countered, as an idea began to form in his mind, “In fact, I think it fits perfectly for the name of the new starbase.”
Kent looked at him again with incredulity, “Why do we need a name? We already have our designation.”
April grimaced in distaste, “Numerical designations are so cold and impersonal. That’s why we still name our starships, after all.” He allowed a prideful grin, “So why the Hell can't we do the same for Starfleet's newest outpost?” 
Kent wasn’t convinced, that was clear. “I doubt Starfleet Command will allow it.”
Now, he scoffed, “Who says they have to know?” he submitted, “This doesn't have to be anything official. more an informal way for the personnel assigned here, how live here, to think of the place.” He gestured at their surroundings. Not just the under-construction areas, but the continent, the planet as a whole. “To remember why we’re out here. Why we all agreed to stay on.”
“Because we are here to not just prove, but make what it is that what we hope for; a proper Starfleet presence in the system, a fortifying of their relationship with everyone in the Rigel system. Be they natives or people like us who have come here and called it home.”
He saw the understanding dawn in Kent’s eyes, as she looked out on it again with a new appreciation. Saw how her gaze fell on members of their crew - their family - going about their lives. 
There was Tim Di Marco and Edward Hemmingway, cuddling up under the shade of a construction barracks, enjoying some quiet time together. The helmsman would primarily remain as part of the Hannock’s senior staff, alongside Kent and Lt. Tsougarakis, while Hemmingway was now officially the new Chief of Operations, putting his technical skills and blinding intellect to use in ways his duties as communications officer just hadn’t afforded him. 
There was Patricia Song helping Cadet Boyce and the man Kent had introduced them to, a Mr Jack Bateson, move some supplies into a civilian cargo ship, that would be taken to the city of Vanir.  There they would assist the S.C.E team that was already there helping reconstruct the damage the city walls had sustained with the blessing of Elder Anaki.
There was Warren Mackenzie having a spirited discussion with Annika Bard, both who had agreed to stay on as part of the command crew. Having seen how Bard had handled things when the two of them had faced down marauding blood-thirsty savages, he had every confidence in his new security chief. As for Mackenzie, well, the self-confessed ‘grease-monkey’ might occasionally gripe about missing his beloved warp core, but he was eager for the challenge of building a starbase from scratch. 
Not to mention the budding rekindling of his relationship with a certain red-headed Scottish lass who had finally stopped chasing life at warp speed long enough to see what was in front of her. 
Even it would take the rest of his time on this planet, in this system, teeming with billions of lives, he would prove that what they hoped for was anything but impossible or illusionary. 
That Starbase Chimera was the future.