Samsa couldn't isolate the dreams from the nightmares. Her mind was conjuring up images that felt familiar yet strange to her. One moment, she was working as a nurse on the frontline during World War Two, the next, she was travelling the world with her sister in the Summer of 2015.
One memory, however, remained dominant over all the others. Samsa already hailed the day she lost Patsy Mills as the worst day of her entire existence. Having it played on a loop as she slept was the closest thing to hell she could imagine. An inescapable hell.
After what seemed like an eternity, the repeated nightmares came to an end. Samsa was too exhausted to open her eyes. She allowed her body to cool and heal while she slept.
Eventually, a bright light bloomed over her eyelids, pushing her to peel them open. Utterances were still blurred in her ears. She caught the tail end of some kind of communication but it sounded echoey.
"Your turn to pick a sequin, True. What's it gonna be?"
"Err...that one."
"Seriously? That colour against this fabric?"
"Why ask me in the first place if you're just going to judge my answer?"
"Alright, no need to get your feathers all ruffled, it's only a sequin!"
The slight raise of a woman's voice was the last push Samsa needed to reach consciousness. She squeezed her eyes shut multiple times in an attempt to adjust to her surroundings. Her mouth was incredibly dry which immediately led her into a coughing fit. Panic slithered into her lungs when she discovered the large tube lodged in her throat and a plastic casing covering the lower half of her face.
"Woah, Blondie, try not to fiddle with that. You're fine, I promise."
Samsa would recognise that Southern charm anywhere. She settled back and tried to control her breathing. As she did so, her vision started to settle as well.
Bones was there, hovering a tricorder over her body. That wasn't all. Someone was holding her left hand.
"Hey, you."
The next voice caused tears to blossom in her eyes. A familiar brunette was at her side, a goofy smile brightening her face.
"Lu...Luna." The word was cracked and muffled through the oxygen mask.
"I'm here, Kiddo," Luna cooed.
Samsa felt a hand stroking through her hair. She leant into the touch, craving a release from the pain. Her entire body felt weighted down as if all her muscles were made of lead. How long had she been out?
Upon attempting to lift her head, Samsa became aware of the wounds on her neck and side. They were still tender. Why hadn't they healed?
"You're alright, Sams. Calm down. You're safe." Luna's tone was angelic, resembling the softness of a lullaby. The reassurance was a warm welcome.
Samsa managed to sit back and settle into a fairly comfortable position while Doctor McCoy checked her over. It had taken three days for the virus to take its course. In that time, Jared, and all of his known associates, were put behind bars. Yet, no trial had taken place.
The oxygen mask was removed and her bed was adjusted, allowing her to sit in an upright position. The sight of Mason sitting next to Luna brought tears to the Sanguine's eyes. She wanted to reach out and hug him but the wound on her side cried in protest.
"Here, get some of this down you," Bones said, passing her a cup of water with a straw.
It felt strange to swallow with a nasogastric tube embedded in her throat, but the cool liquid was too refreshing to refuse. It also made speaking much easier, allowing Samsa to blurt her questions. "Is everyone okay? Where's Jim?"
"Yes to the first. As for the second, he's had a lot of meetings and briefings thrown at him when, in my opinion, he should be resting." Bones mumbled with an eye roll.
"Resting? Is he alright? Was he hurt when-"
"Captain Perfect Hair is fine, Kiddo," Luna interrupted.
Samsa glared at her sister for using that nickname again. However, she had bigger things to worry about. "Meetings and briefings? I'm guessing you had to give mission reports as well." She sighed once Bones nodded. "I've probably lost my job then."
"What? Sams, that's not the case at all." Mason shook his head, adamantly. "If anything, you deserve a promotion."
It was a sweet thing to say. He appeared well put together despite the events of the past week. Samsa couldn't look at him for too long before the guilt began to wind around her chest. The poor man had been through an awful lot. There was still a slight tremor present in his hands.
"If it's okay with you two," Luna suddenly said, glancing between Mason and Bones. "Can I have a moment alone with my sister?"
"Sure," the Doctor replied. "If you need anything, I'll be right down the hall."
Samsa nodded and smiled as the two men headed for the door. During the brief moment in which it was open, she caught sight of another man standing just outside, who took the opportunity to glance in. From the look of his uniform, he was part of the Starfleet Security Division.
"Oh, don't mind Officer Harewood. He's just making sure I don't get anyone into trouble," Luna said once the door was shut.
"Is he really?" Samsa smirked, stealing a sideways glance at her sister. "I was going to ask how you'd been allowed to come and see me."
"Admiral Marcus gets all the credit." The brunette rose from her seat and headed over to a series of cupboards in the corner. "He let me out three days ago and said he'd get in touch for another talk about how I'll be punished."
"Do you...do you think they'll be harsh?" Samsa said.
"Hard to say." Luna turned around, holding multiple blood bags and made her way back to the bedside.
As soon as Samsa caught sight of them, her heart lurched. A deep, dangerous hunger that had been dormant up until this point, burst through the surface.
Luna sent her a sympathetic smile and passed over two blood bags. The first was empty within moments.
"That should help your side heal faster now."
"Thank you," Samsa whispered as she started on the second.
"I don't know how you drink those things," Luna said. "But I guess anything will suffice after that virus practically obliterated your immune system. Hell, you were knocked out cold for three days."
"I kept having the most horrible dreams." It was painful to recollect them and hard to believe they were over.
"I know, Sams."
That response caused Samsa to look up at her sister with glassy eyes. "How...how do you-?"
"You were saying Patsy's name. A lot."
"Did Jim hear me say it?"
"A few times...yeah."
"Oh, God." Samsa cringed, running her hands down her face. "How the hell do I explain Patsy to him?" The thought of bringing up her past again conjured tears in her eyes.
"Hey," Luna smiled. "How about you tell me what's going on with you two, then I can help answer that question."
☆☆☆
For the next hour, Samsa managed to go through the past few years of her life, from the night she first met Jim, all the way to the present day. It was clearly bittersweet for her to recall every tiny detail of their relationship.
Luna listened intently, never interrupting or asking questions. After a few moments of silence, she formed a response. "I can already tell he's one of the good ones. It's blatantly obvious you love him. It's painfully obvious he loves you. But it sounds like you're terrified that history's going to repeat itself."
"That's an understatement," Samsa chuckled, but her face crumpled with emotion.
"What happened to Patsy...it wasn't your fault." Luna ensured her tone was delicate. There was a long silence after she spoke. "You had no control over it, Sams. You're still healing from everything that happened, and that's okay."
Samsa could only nod at her words. The tears were falling thick and heavy over her cheeks.
Luna couldn't wait any longer. She stood up and took her sister into a gentle hug. It felt so warm and familiar, so loving and desperately needed.
The sisters continued to hold each other for a while until an urgent knock on the door broke their contact.
It was Officer Harewood. He poked his head through the crack in the door and gestured to Luna. "Admiral Marcus has requested to see you."
Luna swallowed the lump in her throat and nodded, moving away from the bed. Upon reaching the door, she looked back to see Samsa's worried face shrouded in tears.
"I'll be back before you know it, Kiddo. You still have a whole century to tell me about." She smiled once more and slipped out of the room. Her face dropped the instant Officer Harewood began leading her down the corridor.
Along the walk to the Admiral's office, Luna took the opportunity to indulge in one of her cigarettes to help calm the nerves. She had a feeling that Marcus would be much less forgiving this time.
She eyed Harewood as they entered another elevator. The man's eyes were red and slightly swollen as if he'd been crying. His heart was beating rather fast as well. Luna decided not to ask any questions. They barely knew each other after all.
Upon arriving at the desired floor, Harewood cleared his throat and pointed to the room opposite the elevator. "The Admiral's office is beyond that door."
"You're not coming?" Luna frowned.
"I've been told he wants to see you alone."
"Isn't that just brilliant." She cursed under her breath, her suspicions growing by the millisecond.
Marcus was sitting behind his desk when Luna entered. She could just about see him through the large array of Star Ship models lining the tabletop in size order. "Looks like someone's got a hobby."
"Not a hobby, Miss Gillian," Marcus began, rising from his seat. "Pride."
"In the Federation?" Luna guessed.
"In what it has the potential to become, yes." The Admiral pressed several buttons on his desk, prompting a hologram to appear in the centre of the room.
It presented a planet being orbited by a single moon, labelled 'KRONOS' and 'PRAXIS'. Beneath this was a series of writing which Luna studied intently:
Coordinates: 43.89.26.05
Grid: 09
Quad: 68
Block: 27
Sector: 70
A horrible feeling of dread began to burn in the Sanguine's gut. Luna had assumed Marcus wanted to share the details of her punishment. Instead, she was staring at a depiction of the Klingon homeworld.
"Miss Gillian, do you know the history of relations between Starfleet and the Klingon Empire?"
"I'm guessing it's not pretty."
Marcus chuckled darkly and folded his arms over his chest. "It's worse than that. In fact, war with them is practically inevitable at this point."
"What is it with you humans and war?" Luna scoffed. "You think the only solution to a problem is to blow it up."
"It's ironic you should say that, Miss Gillian." Marcus swiped the hologram away and replaced it with a video. "Because you certainly solve a lot of your problems with violence."
It was the security feed from Jared's base on Motclan. Luna watched herself take out several guards before shooting the camera. The footage didn't end there. It was playing on a loop.
"I did that to get to Samsa as quickly as possible," she said.
"I couldn't care less why you did it, just what it proves."
"And what does it prove?"
"That you're the best chance we have."
"You don't have me, Admiral." Luna found it hard to believe what she was hearing. "Since when was the Federation so interested in combat anyway? I thought your purpose was to explore the stars in peace."
"Believe me," Marcus said. "I want that, but desperate measures need to be taken to ensure the casualties of war remain as low as possible. That's why Section Thirty-One exists."
The security footage was replaced by a set of blueprints. Blueprints for a large vessel similar to the Enterprise, only much bigger and dominated by weaponry.
"By the Founders," Luna breathed. Her eyes dragged over the designs and she came to a realisation. "You're planning to militarize Starfleet."
"With your advanced capabilities and historical knowledge of warfare, we could use your help, with discretion of course."
The Sanguine had to refrain from laughing out loud. "Even if I said yes, what's in it for me?"
"Not only is it a chance to redeem yourself of your crimes, but your sister's assault on Captain True will not impact her future in Starfleet-"
"You can't blame Samsa for that," Luna snapped. "She-"
"Do we have an agreement, or not?" Marcus fixed his eyes on her own. Such a threatening gaze.
Luna felt trapped. If she refused, she dreaded to think what would happen to her sister. She looked over the blueprints again, her chest clenching.
Samsa was so passionate about Starfleet and everything it represented. It broke Luna's heart to see that it was being turned into a military operation, unbeknownst to the majority of its personnel. Despite this, Admiral Marcus had a point. If war with the Klingons was unavoidable, they needed to be prepared.
"Yes," said Luna, staring at the floor. "We have an agreement."
"Good," Marcus said. "Here is your first assignment." He moved to sit behind his desk and pressed the com button. "Bring him in."
This action prompted someone else to enter the room. It was a Security Officer, but not Harewood. He was escorting another member of Starfleet: none other than Montgomery Scott.
I hope you enjoyed this part! Thank you to everyone who is still reading this story! I would be interested to see what you think is going to happen now that Luna has agreed to work for Marcus...