She walked across the darkened hallway with only the moonslight between the windows as her guide. Each step echoed more loudly as she approached the door at the other end. Her heartbeat was much louder in her ears. Somehow, Caremma knew what would be behind that heavy wooden door at the end. She willed her mind’s eye to shut away any thoughts that would cause her pain. But once she heard the first sobs from beyond, she knew the truth. Her father was dead.

Caremma slowly pressed the mechanism. With a swish, the door opened to reveal the lavishly decorated bedroom. Several people were gathered around the bed in the center of the space. Her mother sat on a stool; her sister standing behind her, her brother too stunned to move, and the physician with his bald pate and odd skin hovering over Father’s still body. The air in the room, Caremma sensed, was heavy with sadness. Time seemed to only return when the doctor walked over to mother only to offer an apology and left.

“Cele,” mother spoke finally. Her eyes were fixed only on the body lying on the bed.

“Cele,” mother said again. “You’ll have to inform the guard to lower the standard. T’Yal, contact Hanar Ti. The council must be informed.”

With wave of mother’s hand, Caremma’s sister and brother moved out of the room. Caremma wanted to cry. She wanted to scream. But this was not the time. Mother needed a strong presence. She walked toward the woman she had loved and admired and saw only the shell of grief from years of taking care of a dying man. Mother was once young, spry, a glow of confidence had once shone from her very pores but all that seemed to vanish in the moment her husband of 40 cycles died.

Caremma knealt before her mother, “I am sorry, I didn’t arrive any sooner. But the council…”

“The Council be damned,” a fire suddenly shown in her mother's eyes. “The Council has done nothing to help us, and you know it!”

“Mother clearly, you realize what this means.” Caremma stood up and pointed toward her dead father.

“This means, the Council will do everything in their power to put an end to our reign. They’ll do whatever it takes to seize more. It’s up to you now as the oldest…”

“But mother. I don’t want to be the First.”

Mother stood up from her stool. Despite her short stature she seemed to tower over daughter. “It doesn’t matter what you want. It’s your duty since the day you were born. You will be the First as you father was, as his mother was. End of story.”

“But the Council…”

The door to the bedchamber opened again. A tall robust male walked into the room. He had the air of confidence and strength that seemed to bring about both tension and relief at the same time. He spoke with an authority that made Caremma believe he had all the answers to life’s problems. He had the wisdom of a man who lived a hundred cycles and yet was no older than she. This was Supreme Hanar Janus Ti, leader of the council’s minority party.

“The Council will do nothing,” he said. “You have my guarantee on that.”

“How can you be sure,” Mother asked.

“Duty to the Crown goes both ways madam. Duty to the First is always Supreme. Regardless how The Council majority feels.” Ti stared at Caremma. She could almost feel the confidence oozing from him. “They will have to answer to her, even if they’re not sympathetic to the office she holds.”

“All hail the First One…defender of Gammus!”

---

Captain’s Log: Stardate – 78795.7

After a long journey to yet another conference at Babel, it has been a pleasure to finally get back to exploring the galaxy. Raffi, has returned from her brief mission at Geisel III and is starting to return to duty. The designer of the Neo-Constitution Class is due to arrive within the hour before we leave. I suspect Lieutenant Commander LaForge will not like having a shadow hanging about her engine rooms. But according to our guest, he won’t be here for a long time….

“I hate this idea,” Alandra paced the Transporter room. Her ire growing with each passing second.

“It’s only for a few days,” Matthew Mura smiled. Leaning against the bulkhead in relaxed anticipation. “I think it’s fascinating that the ship’s designer is coming here. I heard he has a history with the Captain.”

Alandra stopped her pacing, “What sort of history?”

“Nothing too overt…but…”

The doors to the transporter room interrupted Mura’s sentence. He stood up straight just as Captain Seven and Commander Musiker entered with Jack Crusher-Picard in tow. “Captain,” he said as he straightened his uniform.

“I know this is not going to be an easy thing for you,” Captain Seven said to Alandra. “But I’ve known Specialist C.T. for many years. He is not as intimidating as you may think. He is only here to make sure the engines won’t blow us up and you have everything you need while on the road. It’s all routine for him.”

A signal from the console behind chirped. "That would be Babel, Captain,” Jack said, he moved to the console. “Shall I?”

“Energize Lieutenant,” Seven replied.

Within a moment the transporter lights dimmed and with the usual hum and sparkle appeared on a stout human male in his early 50s stood before them. He had dark graying hair and bright blue eyes. He wore civilian clothing. He spoke in a slight accent reminiscent of a southern drawl, “Specialist C.T. arriving as ordered, Captain. Permission to come aboard?”

Seven nodded in equal response, “Welcome aboard Enterprise,” she said and proceeded to introduce the people present in the room. When she stopped at LaForge all C.T. did was nod to her. Alandra noticed that this man moved slower than most men his age. As if every step was with purpose. The bag he carried about his shoulder looked ancient and as worn as the clothing he wore.

“With all that done,” he said turned to Captain Seven. “It’s good to see you again, Aní”

The Captain and C.T. embraced.

---

After inspecting nearly every Neo-Constitution Class vessel in Star Fleet, C.T. was tired. Enterprise was the last ship to be inspected. Despite the number of times he had toured these ships, C.T. had found something new to be excited about. The crew had always found a way to personalize every corner of the vessels he designed to make themselves feel at home in space. Enterprise was no exception.

As per usual, the Main Bridge was the last stop. This was the part he truly loved. Captains always walk taller when they reach this point of the tour. C.T. and the crew from the Transporter room walked off the Turbolift into command center. The Bridge was the place of honor on every ship with the Enterprise bridge being the most coveted one in the entire galaxy. What made this special; his friend was in command of it.

They met on Voyager and C.T. had assisted Seven and Ensign Kim in constructing the Astrometrics Lab. He had reasonably kept her at arm’s length considering she was a former Borg. But after weeks of working with her and getting to know her personally, the coolness he kept warmed. It wasn’t until years later after Voyager returned to Earth and both the Captain and he had left life in Star Fleet that their friendship developed more fully.

They remained in contact with each other over the years and he supported the Captain after she had told him of her return to Starfleet.

“Aní, you’ve done well for yourself. Haven’t you?” He sensed the pride in the ship’s command center grow as he moved about. Everything about the Bridge was familiar and yet new. Mostly due to the Captain who was now seated in the center chair. He disliked how the Fleet decided to raise these seats on a small platform turning them into thrones. This was one of many compromises C.T. had to make in order to get the Neo-Connies approved.

“Thank you C.,” Seven smiled. “She’s a fine ship. You did well yourself. You should be proud.”

C.T. turned around with eyes gazing at the upper bulkheads. “It had taken me the entire journey in the Delta Quadrant to design these ships. Six and a half years of planning and replanning just to get it right. Pride? That’s a word I wouldn’t use to describe how I feel.”

He paused, “Old? Well…”

Seven laughed.

---