After three days travelling on the Cerulean Star, beaming back aboard a Federation starship was a blessed relief. Gone were the dark, run-down interiors whose glory days were long behind them, replaced by the bright, familiar, well-maintained interior of a Starfleet ship. The phantom wet dog who plagued the Cerulean Star was no more. Instead, they breathed in the odourless recirculated air of the Horatio. The steady thrum of a powerful warp core was a constant, reassuring presence beneath their feet.

The USS Horatio had rendezvoused with the passenger liner right on schedule, and Gideon was more than ready to return to the life he’d made since first leaving Pergamon V all those years ago.  Waiting to greet them was the Horatio’s stony-faced first officer, Commander Orim Threx. Two security officers stood off to one side, eyeing Niran Syral warily. 

The Andorian stepped forward, his hands folded behind his back. “Welcome aboard, gentlemen.”

“Thrilled to be here, Commander,” Mitchell replied as he stepped down off the transporter pad.

Threx offered perfunctory handshakes to his Starfleet colleagues but clasped his hands firmly behind his back when Syral offered his.

“If you’ll follow me, I’ll show you to your quarters.”

Threx led the way with Mitchell and Gideon close behind. Syral followed, flanked on either side by a security officer. 

“Am I to be treated as your prisoner?” Syral asked sardonically. “Locked away in your brig?”

Over his shoulder, Threx replied, “That was my recommendation to the captain. However, our orders preclude that possibility. You’ll be given guest quarters and allowed limited access to non-critical areas of the ship, accompanied by a security escort at all times.”

Gideon couldn’t suppress the smile that formed on his lips. He only knew Orim Threx by reputation, but by all accounts, he was a man with a limited sense of humour and who didn’t suffer fools gladly. Gideon was in no doubt that when he said he’d recommended locking Syral up, it was no joke.

“I’m humbled by the warmth of your hospitality,” Syral sneered.

Mitchell stopped dead in his tracks and rounded on Syal. “You’d do the same thing in our shoes. You don’t like it, we can return you to Oreth.”

Instead of responding with some barbed retort, Syral bowed his head. “I apologise. I remain grateful for your assistance in freeing me from his grip.”

“Good,” Mitchell said.

Threx cleared his throat. “If you’re quite finished.”

The group continued on their way. As they passed members of the Horatio’s crew, they drew curious looks. Or rather, Syral did. The crew wasn’t as accustomed to seeing Romulans walking through the corridors.

“Commander Mitchell, these are your quarters,” Threx announced, pointing to one door before pointing to one on the opposite side of the corridor. “Commander Hayes, those are yours. We’ll arrive at Bastion Station in sixteen hours.”

With a curt nod, Threx walked off to show Syral to his quarters. Gideon and Mitchell stood awkwardly in the corridor. Neither of them said anything until they were inside Mitchell’s quarters and the doors had closed behind them.

“How’re you holding up?” Gideon finally asked.

Mitchell took a deep breath. “The lack of news is killing me. It’s been three days already.”

“Commodore Wyatt said she’d let us know as soon as the Endurance reports in,” Gideon told him.

Reluctantly, Mitchell nodded slowly in agreement. “Yeah.”

“We’ll hear something soon,” Gideon assured him, placing a hand on Mitchell’s shoulder. 

“I hope you’re right,” Mitchell muttered. He met Gideon’s gaze and seemed to study him for a few silent moments. “What about you?”

“I’m fine,” Gideon told him automatically.

Mitchell flopped down on the couch. “You wanna try that again? Maybe with the truth this time?”

Gideon could see the stars streak by through the window above Mitchell’s head. With every passing second, he inched closer to his new life and further from his previous one, further from Nicco.

“I thought you said you weren’t going to be picking up the pieces,” Gideon said.

“I lied,” Mitchell shot back with a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “Now stop deflecting and answer the question.”

A few months ago, opening up to Mitchell would have been unthinkable. But Mitchell wasn’t the man Gideon assumed him to be.

“The time I spent with Nicco was a window into the life that I could’ve had,” Gideon admitted. “And it was amazing. But now it’s done, and I have to live with the knowledge that I’ll never see him again.”

Mitchell was watching him closely. “You don’t think you’ll love again?’

“Not like that,” Gideon replied sadly with a gentle shake of his head. “Not the way I love him.”

“The universe works in mysterious ways,” Mitchell said. “You thought it was the end when you left Pergamon the first time, but you found each other again. Maybe you’ll find each other a third time. Y’know what they say: third time’s the charm.”

Gideon studied Mitchell’s face silently for a moment. “Every time I think I’ve got a beat on you, you say or do something that makes me realise that I haven’t even begun. What’s your deal?”

“What do you mean?” Mitchell asked. Gideon could see his defences rising.

Taking a seat on the chair opposite Mitchell, he leaned forward. “You don’t let anyone get close, except Forrester and Bentley. You make these quick connections with people, then cut them loose just as quickly. Don’t you want something more meaningful?”

“I’ve had my heart broken once,’ Mitchell said quietly. “I’m not eager for a repeat of the experience.”

Gideon understood Mitchell’s point, but he disagreed. “I can say that having your heart broken twice is awful. But every minute I had with Nicco was worth the heartbreak. And I wouldn’t do anything differently.”

Pushing himself to his feet, Gideon reached for his duffel bag and slung it over his shoulder. That Mitchell didn’t have a smart retort and looked genuinely contemplative told Gideon that his words had hit their mark. It was time to leave Mitchell with one final thought.

“These fleeting encounters will only satisfy you for so long,” Gideon said as he walked to the door. Standing in the threshold of the open door, he added, “Love’s worth taking a risk.”

Gideon turned and left Mitchell alone. Crossing the corridor, he stepped inside his own temporary home. These quarters were much smaller than his quarters on the Challenger. This is what passed for luxurious on a ship as small as the Horatio.

Exhaustion pulled at him as Gideon quickly readied himself for bed. He climbed in and thought of Nicco. Was he okay? Was his heart shattered like Gideon’s? The answer to the second question was yes. Gideon knew saying goodbye had been equally devastating to Nicco. Unable to resist it any longer, Gideon slipped into a restless sleep.

“Bridge to Commander Hayes.”

Gideon groaned as the voice dragged him from his slumber. He rolled onto his back and cracked an eye, staring up at the unremarkable sight of a Starfleet bulkhead. A quick check of the chronometre told him he’d only been asleep for an hour.

“Bridge to Commander Hayes.”

Raising himself onto his elbows, Gideon groggily barked, “Hayes here.”

“Sir, there’s a priority one transmission for you from Captain Rix.”

Suddenly awake, Gideon pulled the sheets back and jumped from his bed. “Patch him through.”

Gideon crossed the room in a few long strides and leaned over the computer terminal. He entered his access code. The terminal illuminated the room, the only source of light. On the screen, the seal of Starfleet Command flashed up briefly before the face of the Challenger’s commanding officer appeared. Captain Rix wore a sombre expression. His red eyes were a subtle clue to the news he was about to deliver.

“I…uh…wish I had better news,” Rix said softly. His voice was thick with emotion.

It felt like Rix had reached through the comm channel and punched Gideon in the stomach. “He’s dead.”

“Yes. The…uh…the Endurance recovered,” Rix’s voice broke momentarily, “they recovered Captain Forrester’s body from Oreth’s facility.” 

Rix took a steadying breath, “It appears he’s been dead for weeks.”

Numb with shock, Gideon muttered, “We were too late.”

“Unfortunately,” Rix replied simply.

“How?” Gideon asked. It was a question he wasn’t sure he wanted the answer to.

Captain Rix took a shaky breath. “He was executed. Single disruptor blast to the back of the head.”

Executed. The word echoed in Gideon’s mind. It didn’t feel like the right one to use here. Murdered. That’s what had happened. Captain Forrester had been murdered by a Romulan driven mad by grief and anger. Whose lust for vengeance had lost a good man his life.

“How’s Captain Bentley?”

“Not good. He held out hope until the end,” Rix trailed off. “We all did.”

“Does Commander Mitchell know?”

“No,” Rix shook his head. “I’m going to tell him next, but I thought I should tell you first. To prepare you.”

“I’ll tell him,” Gideon announced.

Rix’s brow furrowed. “Are you sure?”

“Yes, sir,” Gideon replied. “I think it would be better coming from me.”

“Very well,” Rix nodded.

“What about Oreth?”

“Also dead,” Rix replied. “It seems this was intended to be his last stand.”

Gideon wasn’t sorry to hear of Oreth’s death. While he would have proved to be a rich source of intelligence, he was a dangerous man who intended to do terrible things. He’d kidnapped a Starfleet captain and somehow managed to smuggle him back from the Gamma Quadrant without detection. He was a man of means and would continue to be a threat if he remained alive.

This news let Syral off the hook. Neither he nor his husband would have to change their identities. With Oreth dead, he was truly free, though Gideon wasn’t going to rush to deliver that good news. Mitchell was his priority.

“I doubt the galaxy will shed any tears for him,” Gideon said, unable to keep his bitterness out of his voice. 

“Let me know if either of you needs anything.”

“I will. Thank you, sir.”

Captain Rix nodded. “I’ll see you both in a few days.”

The terminal deactivated, leaving Gideon standing alone in the dark. They were too late. Gideon angrily wiped away tears. His own grief was secondary right now. He took several deep breaths to steady himself. Thomas Forrester was Mitchell’s best friend. It now fell to Gideon to deliver the bad news. On some level, he wished he’d let Rix tell Mitchell. But he knew this was for the best.

He quickly fished clean clothes from his luggage and pulled them on. Taking one last deep breath to brace himself for what he was about to do, Gideon stepped across the corridor and pressed the door chime.

It took a few minutes for Mitchell to answer the door, rubbing his eyes. “Hey. What’s up?”

“I just spoke with Captain Rix,” Gideon said, causing Mitchell’s demeanour to change instantly. His whole body stiffened. 

“What did he say?”

“I’m so sorry.” A lump formed in Gideon’s throat. With difficulty, he croaked, “Captain Forrester is dead.”