“Captain’s Log, supplemental.  USS Culver City has been in the Shackleton Expanse for a couple of weeks now.  So far, it’s been quite a ride, what with cabbage-addicted Dergans, Ferengi Traditionalist companies causing drama, system surveys, and the odd scientific curiosity, and who knows what else this trip could bring.  Ship and crew’re doing well, though I would like to put in at Framheim so everyone can have some proper rest and we can get an overhaul.

“We’re a few days out from Duwalla at the moment, just checking in on our claims buoys to make sure that they haven’t been messed with; so far, it’s all been good, but I worry that this Traditionalist consortium might try something.  According to Captain Tyler on the Blythe, the consortium’s started trying to whip up anti-Federation sentiment among the Dergans and the Formicans, probably to protect their investments; fortunately, it looks like they haven’t had a lot of success so far, but I worry that that could embolden them to more drastic actions.

“Oh!  Before I forget: there’s a small stellar nursery, en route from Framheim to Duwalla, in which Ophelia picked up some sort of gaseous anomaly.  We didn’t have time to properly survey it then, but if we don’t get to do so on the way back, I need to ask Framheim to send a team out.  Could be nothing, but we won’t know until we give it a proper once-over.

“Speaking of Ophelia, she also recently led a team that discovered evidence not only of liquid water, but of microbial life, in the moon in orbit of Tisalfa 4; given her recent work, I plan to put her forward for a promotion to lieutenant commander, or at least a commendation for her contributions.  Preferably both.  Ditto for Tiza, up to full lieutenant; he’s done a stellar job managing things after taking over for Chief Bong, and his work deserves to be recognized.

A deep sigh.  “I can’t help feeling that something big’s coming up; couldn’t for the life of me tell you what it is, but everything in me says that this is just the deep breath before a plunge.  On the whole, I think we’re about as ready as we can be; I hope it’ll be enough.  Computer, end log.”

The late ship’s night found Lieutenant Commander Varyn K’lev lying on the small sofa in the small living area of his quarters, with a glass of some brackish, amber liquid in hand.  He contemplated the glass for a moment, mulling over the log entry he’d just recorded, then knocked the drink back and reached over to refill it from a decanter he’d moved from his small bar to a side table by the sofa.  As he began pouring, the chime at his door sounded, drawing his gaze.  “It’s open,” he called, hoping the computer took that as a cue to open the doors.

It did; the doors swished open to reveal Lieutenant Ophelia Lotharys, in her pajamas.  “Still up, too?” she asked as she entered, the doors closing behind her.

K’lev chuckled as he sat up, swinging his legs to the floor.  “Yeah….”  He patted the couch next to him.  “What’s got you up late?”

She took a seat next to him, leaning in.  “Just couldn’t sleep.  What about you?”

He wrapped an arm around her, gathering her close.  “You know me, just thinking about things.”  K’lev sighed.  “Been a hell of a ride so far.”

Lotharys nodded.  “Yeah.  I’d say it’s been a good ride so far, though, on the whole.”

“Definitely,” K’lev said with a smile, kissing her hair.

The couple remained on the couch for a while, engaged in casual conversation.  Eventually, though, both growing tired, they retired to the small bedroom area of K’lev’s quarters for the night.

On the viewscreen, a number of vessels – Ferengi shuttles, plus Formican ships – formed up and began swarming towards the Culver City.  The California-class ship had been servicing one of the communications buoys she’d deployed when she was ambushed.  K’lev looked around his bridge; he’d tried to talk them down, but not being the most gifted diplomat in the world it had gone rather poorly, and led to this.  As the swarm of ships began to converge on Culver City, he closed his eyes for a moment, took a deep breath, then reopened them and opened his mouth…

K’lev woke sometime in the night, the beginnings of the dream or nightmare – he wasn’t sure which – fading away to wisps at the edges of his memory.  He looked over, seeing Lotharys next to him, still asleep below the semi-disheveled covers; a smile crossed K’lev’s face as he saw that his dream thankfully hadn’t woken her up.

K’lev settled back onto the pillows, staring up at the ceiling in the darkened room.  He tried his best to keep his mind from wandering off, preferring to stay in this quiet moment, but eventually the nagging thoughts returned unbidden.  Something’s gonna go wrong soon, his mind told him over and over again.  Things’re building, and it won’t be long before it comes to a head.  But where’s it gonna come from?  And what’ll it look like?  And what should we do about it?  Can we even come up with ideas without knowing the rest?  And what if whatever we do to deal with whatever goes wrong, goes wrong?  And…  His thoughts continued in this trail, until he scrunched his eyes up tightly and reopened them, trying to force them back.

Looking towards Lotharys once more, he smiled again.  There’s the answer, he realized.  Not just Lia, but all of us.  We don’t know what’s coming, but do we actually need to, so long as we meet it together?  Our team’s good – very good – so maybe that’ll be enough?  He pondered for a moment.  Yeah, I think it will be.  We’ve got this; no matter what comes, Culver City’s gonna make it through.  Thus having mollified himself, when K’lev found sleep once more it was undisturbed by dreams.