Nothing.

They had left shore leave on Janoor III early and been dispatched to expand a detailed search of the sectors farther out from Montana Station.

Nothing. They had found nothing. Ensign Lita Morrison sat dejectedly in her quarters, several PADDs with scientific journals spread across her desk. In a week, they had catalogued plenty of previously observed phenomena. The team had delved into the inner workings of some curious nebulae and observed a few abandoned small trading posts along the way. That was typical work for a science department. She’d been hoping for something unusual. Something different. And yet, here they were.

The door chime rang, and Lita jumped—she’d been so deep into her work. She stood from her desk and said, “Enter.” The door obliged her command by swishing open, revealing a friendly face. “Alayna!” Fellow Ensign Alayna Bertrand stood at the door, her face a bundle of nerves. Lita motioned her in, “Did I forget tonight was dinner night?” They’d grown together since they’d met in March. The friendship had been fast, and they’d scheduled times to break bread together or spend the after-shift hours in a breezy holodeck simulation. Lita read her friend’s face as she entered and immediately pulled her gently to the couch, where she asked, “What’s wrong?”

Alayna handed a PADD over as she lamented, “It came about an hour ago.” She went quiet, almost as if she had been numbed silent.

Lita picked it up and began reading, “To the attention of…blah blah…here we go. Your father has fallen ill, and they are working to identify a cause. It is neurological, and has taken his feet from him. Whatever it is, it is rare and has progressed rather quickly. We do not know how much time he has. He struggles to remember people and times, and we try our best. Please let us know when we can secure a channel with you and talk at length. Love, Mom and the girls.” She gently returned the PADD, “I’m so sorry.”

The communications chief accepted the device and clutched it tightly to her chest, “I was the only one of my sisters to choose communications. The others all went into engineering.” A smile filled with memories rippled across her face as she reflected, “Dad accepted it right away. He was happy to have someone to talk to – he was a linguistics professor at the community college. I spent a lot of nights studying his notes and the books he lent me.” The smile faded. “My mother did not approve.”

Lita edged closer to Alayna’s side, asking, “Did she eventually?” They had talked about many things in their blossoming friendship, but the sharing of Bertrand’s family story had been harder to extract. Lita hadn’t pressed, and they’d talked endlessly about everything else.

“Sorta.” Lita watched her friend’s face shift through several emotions as she thought further over the answer. She eventually replied, “When I think about it…not really. When we were all together, she’d praise my sisters about their latest success or medal of whatever. She was never really interested in what I was doing.” The look on her face swerved down.

“I didn’t mean to upset you, Alayna.” Lita felt terrible. She’d unwittingly lead her friend into an emotional ditch. Now she just wanted to pull her out, and quickly. Before she could attempt, Alayna stopped her.

“Not your fault, Lita. I’ve been thinking a lot about my mom lately, and I think I’ve tried to make her out to be something she’s not. My Dad was the loving and encouraging one to me. My mother loved and encouraged my sisters.”  She paused, her eyes searching the carpet as if the answer would be there in the fibers of the weave.  Not finding it, she turned to the ceiling, where she stared for several minutes.  Her eyes returned to her friend, and she said,  “You want to know the sad part? I don’t think she thinks she did anything wrong.” She shook her head, the look in her eyes tightening and her face losing all expression. “I don’t know if I can go home. My father won’t recognize me. My mother hates me. And my sisters…they care in their way.” Another shake of her head, “Sorry for dumping this on you.”

Lita chuckled darkly, “Not your fault, Alayna.” That earned her a mild rolling of the eyes from her friend. “We’re friends. We share in the good, the bad, and the ugly – together. Besides, you know all my family drama. Now we’re even.” They both smiled and embraced gently on the couch.

Suddenly, a klaxon rang out, and their respective badges beeped with orders to report to the bridge. Alayna stood, “To be continued.”

Lita followed her into the corridor, “I’ll hold you to that, friend.”