“Nova has been requested to be returned to additional and separate duties within Fourth Fleet.” Captain Wren Walton handed the PADD over to her former and now current XO, Commander Park. “Doesn’t sound like something you did. They’re giving you and the crew eight hours to pack up your quarters and transfer to the Perseverance.” Wren wasn’t sure what to feel at the moment. “I’m sorry, Park.”

She watched Park’s face process the situation, and knew her words wouldn’t be enough to blunt the pain that came with something like this. Park muttered, “Truth be told…I wasn’t sure it was the right thing. I questioned it when I was put in command. You were as surprised as I was.” A quiet sigh escaped her lips, “Maybe I wasn’t ready.”

Wren leaned forward at the resort lounge table they had commandeered. “You were. Don’t let that get in your head, Park. You came a long way. If you hadn’t been ready, I’d have said something.” She took a drink of her coffee. “It’s shore leave. Clean out your office and quarters…and get back down here. Don’t you owe Charlie another date?”

That earned her a scowl from Park, who also stuck out her tongue. “Maybe.” Her eyes searched the table for answers, but came up empty. “He makes me feel different. Haven’t had a guy do that in a while.”

Walton asked, “You like him?” Park had given her the full rundown on the fourth date. It had gone well, and there had been a quiet kiss at the end of it. The smile on her XO’s face as she told that part of the story had made her wonder if Charlie might be something more to Park than just a date on shore leave.

Park usually shrugged her shoulders in response to these questions, and Wren had grown accustomed to it. This time, there was no shrug. There was a quiet glance off to the side, and traces of a smile. “I do. There’s this…reassurance when I’m with him. Like we fit, it’s better than the others, where I had to think about how I could make them fit into my life. With Charlie…I don’t have to think about it much.”

Wren took her friend’s hands in hers. “I think that’s the most positive you’ve talked about a guy in a long time.”

“Could I ask you a favor?”

“Sure.”

“Help me pack.”

Walton stood, an understanding look crossing her face. “Here to help, Park. Here to help.”

Jordan Reid played with the metal tag as she sat facing the bright blue ocean. The cloud cover had increased, helping to decrease the stifling temperatures. She’d slept late each day, getting out of bed when she felt like it, and grazing on the food at the buffet when it struck her. She’d felt something tugging at the edges of her consciousness the last day or so, and had resolved to sort it out before more of her shore leave vanished in the thought process.

“Good afternoon.” She turned to find the source of the voice and discovered it belonged to Ada Josephs, a recent transfer from the Nova kerfuffle. Jordan wasn’t sure how the woman felt about going from Chief to Deputy. “May I join you?” Ada asked.

Reid sat up, giving the woman a nod. “I was just…sitting here reflecting.” She added, “I’m sorry about what happened with the Nova.” She didn’t say much more and hoped her new deputy would fill in the missing pieces.

“I’m not,” Ada replied. Her face was genuine and relaxed. Jordan couldn’t sense any injury to the woman’s pride or ego as she watched Joseph’s eyes. She continued, “I’m still with most of the same crew. I also get to learn from you, Doctor Reid.” A cup of juice was set down beside her, and she took a long drink. “I did all my fighting in the Academy.”

Jordan couldn’t help but chuckle. “Well, that’s comforting. I don’t enjoy the self-defense and security training I have to do, to be honest. You can be the bruiser of our sickbay.” Her hands shifted the silver tag from left to right. She felt that tug and groaned, “Damn it.”

Her new deputy glanced over, ‘What is it?” Ada’s eyes searched and found the silver metal tag in Reid’s hands. “Someone you knew?” Her eyes met Jordan’s.

“Boyfriend. Died in the line of duty. I thought I’d processed enough.” Her right hand gripped the tag tightly, frustration and sadness blending in her stomach. “Grief is a monster.” She let out a long sigh, “It’s been less frequent – this low feeling. I guess it’s been so long, I almost forgot about it.”

Ada remained silent. She’d felt the ice-cold numbness of loss before and had wrestled with grief when it had returned unbidden. She sat up in her chair, turning toward Reid. “We all go through the same counseling training. We get the same talks from our ship counselors.  It’s never enough on its own.” She watched Reid’s eyes dart from hers to far away, and back again.

Reid murmured, “It’s like a wound that never heals. Scabs over plenty…but then just…a random brush against a wall or something…and it’s bleeding all over again.” She wiped away the tears forming in her eyes. “I always think back to the story of Sybok on the Enterprise when he took people’s pain away…and Captain Kirk refused the process. He said he needed his pain.” Jordan chuckled, amused. “We spend so much time trying to keep pain at bay, or medicate it…when sometimes the answer is to carry it.” Her eyes swung back to seize on Ada. “Losing Ambrose…was hard. Being without him…finding my way alone that first six months…that was harder.”

Ada replied with a small nod. She let her new CO sit in the yawning silence between them for a few minutes before standing and saying, “Let’s go break some bread together. I’ve heard there’s a New York-style Deli down the way that serves up a mean Reuben, among other things.”

Reid hesitantly stood, eyeing her new friend, “Are you always this excitable and interested?”

Ada cackled, “Those exact words were in my academy feedback. Just be glad I left my hand-to-hand days behind me.”

Jordan followed, amused.

Was this the start of something new?

Or was it just the restarting of the way things used to be?

Only one way to find out, she decided.