Mary Anacostia-Bolling entered her quarters; her uniform jacket already partly unfastened.  She placed the Padd she was carrying down on the table next to a photo frame before removing the jacket completely and tossing it on to the bed.

She walked into the kitchen area and replicated herself a large whisky with ice.  It wasn’t her normal choice of drink, but then today couldn’t really be classed as a normal day.

Grabbing the photo on her way back past; Mary flopped unceremoniously into her armchair by the window.  The photo, in a simple silver frame, was of six people in cadets uniforms.  They all looked so young, happy and carefree.  All had just graduated when the photo was taken; Mary remembered the occasion well, she was one of them, second from the right. It was back in the days when she used to smile often.  What had happened to that girl, she used to be?

They’d all formed a close friendship during their training; always laughing and joking together; being there for one another during the highs and the lows. It had been a bright sunny day when Zack had asked one of the grounds staff at the academy to take the photo, so that they could all be in it together.  Not long after that, they were all heading off for their first postings.  Though on that day, they all promised to stay in contact; arranging to meet up if circumstances allowed.  In the end, they’d never managed to all be in the same place together again; four had been the most, on a couple of occasions.

They were all gone now; of those six young cadets, she was the last of them; all the others had died in the service of the Federation.

Rojan had been the first, way back in 2381.  He had been killed by a rockslide whilst part of a landing party surveying an uninhabited planet; the name of which currently escaped the Commander.  It had taken them two day’s to recover the Bajoran’s mangled body; crushed under tons of rock.  Just the thought of what his final moments must have been like, had made her shiver.

Henrico was the tall skinny member of the group, standing head and shoulders above the rest.  A man who was wonderful with his mind and fingers yet like a fish out of water when it came to girls. He had died four years later at the Utopia Planitia Fleet Yards, during the attack by the synthetic workers. His fate unknown, his body was never recovered.

In 2394, Tamzin had joined them; she was a member of the security team when a Klingon raiding party attacked the annual peace conference at Khitomer.  Brave and courageous to the end, it’s said she took four of the fearsome warriors with her to their graves; including the one to administer the fatal blow.  There are very few instances were none Klingons have been honoured amongst their dead; Tamzin’s name is one of them.  And to think someone had once called the bubbly raven haired beauty, a ‘mouse’.  That same guy ending up with two broken fingers, during an unarmed combat session, soon put that idea to rest.  Mary had only been with her a month previous to her death and she had been so proud of getting the assignment. It was the death of this friend in particular that had the greatest impact on Mary’s life.

Zack Speed had died on Frontier Day, 2401; a short muscular blonde who’d never lived up to his name, having only just scrapped in under time when it had come to the cross-country and basically anything else were running was involved.  Zack had more the typical look of a security officer than Tamzin ever did; yet like Henrico, it was in the field of engineering that his skill lay. He was Chief Engineer of one of the many ships caught up in the chaos.  Killed by he’s fellow crew members whilst they were under the Borg influence.

Mary took a long drink from the glass of Whisky, feeling the warmth on the back of her throat as she swallowed.  The index finger of her left hand lingered below the faces of each friend she’d lost.  Remembering all the good times they’d shared and moaning their tragic lose.

Now the news had finally reached the Commander; that Mel had been killed over a month ago; during the early stages of the Vaadwaur’s invasion.  Captain Melisa Sinclair had been amongst half her ship’s crew; lost whilst facing near impossible odd.  The officers and crew that had managed to survive the initial battle; were barely able to escape in shuttle craft and escape-pods, before the ship had exploded.

The message had come via Mel’s younger brother, not long after he himself had been given the news.  He knew the two of them had been friends for a long time, and felt Mary should know what had happened.

Mary had been so sure her time had come, when she’d faced off against the Supremacy above Samson III.  Part of her had wanted to order both Starfleet vessels under her command to retreat; but that would have meant sacrificing the lives of even more civilians than had already died, along with those she’d sent to free them. She wasn’t entirely sure who that woman was, who’d bravely stood up to them and convince the Vaadwaur it was a fight they couldn’t hope to win, despite having the odds stacked heavily in their favour.   No, it had been a woman, who a young cadet had once aspired to one day become, but had never made it.   Mary Anacostia-Bolling had never in her life, been that woman; not even close

She took another sip, the glass now half empty, and held the photo frame close to her chest.  She wasn’t the smartest of the bunch nor the fittest or bravest, certainly not the best looking either, at least not in her own opinion.  Any one of those five friends in that photo deserved to be alive more than she did; yet here she was; the last one, against all reasonable odds, the only survivor.

The Commander stood up, placing the photo back on the table, and turned to the window once more; the view half filled by the planet below.  She raised her glass in salute to the five.

“Rojan your love of metamorphic rock was legendary.  I only wished the rest of us could ever understand half the things you said.  Henrico, thank you for all the help you gave me when I struggled to revise and retain information.  To Tamzin my wonderful friend, not a mouse but a lion; even Sto’Vo’Kor honours your sacrifice.  Zack the wizard of the warp core manifold, never did a nacelle glow so brightly than when they were in your care.  And finally but in no ways least, Mel.  Now you join our friends, I just hope you took plenty of those Vaadwaur scum with you.”  She took another sip of whisky.  “I salute you and hope your all standing under that big old oak tree, waiting my arrival.  I always was the last one to the party”

Mary closed her eyes, letting the emotion slowly wash over her.  She’d certainly never let the crew witness how alone she felt at times.  But here in her quarters, it was safe to let go, and be one with her memories.