Protocols Unknown: A Decision of The Stars

The Shape of Trust

The mess hall felt too bright.

The overhead lights had been calibrated for morning shift—warm, diffuse, carefully timed to simulate a planetary sunrise. But it still felt artificial. Too even. Too clean.

The usual hum of voices and clink of utensils filled the space, soft and ordinary. Safe.

Naomi sat near the viewport, her breakfast cooling in front of her. She wasn't really eating. She stirred the leola hash with the edge of her fork, watching the stars slip past.

The tray slid onto the table beside her. Naomi looked up.

Teska was standing there, calm as always. Measured. Composed.

She opened her mouth to speak—

But a shadow moved.

Seven had been watching from the far end of the mess hall. She'd noticed the shift in Naomi before Teska ever reached the table—the way the girl's shoulders tensed, the way her expression shuttered. It was the kind of change you had to know someone to see. And Seven saw it instantly.

Seven of Nine crossed the mess hall in three purposeful strides, placing herself firmly between them before Teska could utter a word.

"That's close enough," Seven said sharply.

Teska froze, tray still in hand.

"I don't know what you think you're doing," Seven continued, her voice low and cold, "but you don't speak to her. You don't approach her. Not without permission. Is that understood?"

Teska didn't answer.

"Put down the tray and walk away."

There was no hesitation in Seven's tone. No ambiguity.

Teska's gaze flicked toward Naomi—just once. Then she turned without a word, walking out of the mess hall with her tray untouched.

Only once the doors closed behind her did Seven turn back to Naomi.

"You don't have to speak to her," she said gently. "Not now. Not ever."

Naomi nodded.

She blinked fast. But no tears came.

"I don't want to forget what she did," she said, her voice thin at the edges. "But I don't want to feel it every time I see her."

Seven paused. Then, soft but steady:

"Then we remind her. That she has no place in your life unless you allow it."

Naomi finally picked up her fork. Took a bite. Swallowed.

"Do you think people like her can change?"

Seven was quiet for a long moment.

Then, "Not without knowing what they broke."

She looked toward the stars.

"And who they broke it for."

They sat in silence, just long enough for the food to start tasting like food again.

Seven's gaze didn't drift far from Naomi. She saw the way the girl kept her shoulders drawn in, like she was still bracing for something. Something more.

After a moment, Seven leaned closer, voice soft but firm.

"Would you like to assist me in Astrometrics today?" she asked. "We could use a sharp mind. And a calm space."

Naomi looked up slowly, startled—but not unhappy.

She nodded. "Okay."

Seven stood, and Naomi followed, her steps steadier with each one that led her away from the mess hall.