“Don’t think of it as needing an escort.” Captain Sand said diplomatically and tucked a strand of greying hair behind her ear and took a few steps into the direction of the transport room. “Think of us as… accompanying you to make sure you reach your destination without incident.”

Saffiya tore her wistful gaze away from the USS Johnston, and followed Sand. She knew the woman to be a formidable captain and skilled diplomat, but hadn’t expected to experience her negotiation skills first hand.

Not so soon into their partnership, anyway.

“That’s the definition of an escort.” she responded, not entirely able to ditch the unusually sepulchral tone that had crept into her voice.

She’d been in a dour mood ever since her return to Deep Space 17, and the Olympic.

Casperia Prime had been a welcome respite from an endless parade of unpredictable tomorrows, while being back on duty meant that she was expected to slip back into the role of ‘Captain Nassar’.
Unfortunately, she found that she had outgrown it.
Literally.
There was no getting around wearing the maternity uniform now, even if it looked like a tent with pips on it.

“We are headed in the same direction.” Sand insisted, slowing her steps to allow Saffiya to catch up. Her voice softened. “I can imagine that it’s quite a change.”

“Very much so.” Saffiya muttered. “The Valkyrie didn’t exactly need backup.”

But she wasn’t commanding officer of the Valkyrie any more, and leaving it had been her own choice.

“A few years on a quiet ship don’t mean you can’t return to the frontline.” Sand shrugged, waiting a moment as the doors to the transporter room laboured open. “And it beats taking prolonged maternity leave.”

“You came out of retirement yourself, didn’t you?” Saffiya asked. For a moment, she wondered if she had overstepped. She and Sand might share a rank, but the older woman had a beat when it came to experience – and flashy ships.

If you could call an Ambassador-class flashy.

“I did. It was boring.”

Saffiya probed further.
“It must have been nice to spend time with family, though?”

“I don’t have family. I focussed on my career.“ Sands’ response came calm, pleasant, and deceptively guileless.
It still hurt, and Saffiya fell silent, allowing the moment to hold heavy in the air, before it inevitably dropped when Sand cleared her throat.

“When will you be ready to depart?”

“I’m waiting for my new Chief Medical Officer.” Saffy replied. “We’ll be ready then. It shouldn’t take more than an hour tops.”

Sand smiled. “Perfect.”
She stepped onto the transporter pad, and without as much as a goodbye – because they weren’t actually parting ways – gave the crewman operating the console a nod. A moment later, she was gone.

For a moment, Saffiya stared at the transporter pad. She tried to imagine what it would feel like to beam back to the Valkyrie.

Yes, the transfer to the Olympic had been her choice.
That, however, didn’t mean she had to be happy with it.

At least not today.