The corridor leading to the medical bay stretched endlessly before her. Luna walked with purpose, her boots striking the deck in a steady rhythm, but every step felt heavier than the last. Her wings shifted restlessly against her back, brushing the walls in the quiet emptiness of the lower deck.

She glanced down at her forearm. The faint, parallel marks were still there—three symmetrical lines that refused to fade, no matter how much she tried to dismiss them. They shouldn’t matter. And yet, they felt like something more. A violation. A warning.

Her pace slowed as the door to the sickbay came into view. The polished steel reflected her hesitant expression, the faint flicker of doubt she hated letting anyone see. She stopped just short of the door, her fingers twitching at her sides.

The memories were already creeping in: sterile lights, sharp smells, the cold detachment of lab technicians observing her like a specimen on a slide. The sickbay wasn’t Section 31, but it didn’t matter. The similarities were enough to make her stomach twist.

Her wings flexed involuntarily, the motion uncomfortably tight in the narrow corridor. She could turn around. No one would stop her. She’d faced worse than unexplained marks before and walked away just fine.

But her mind drifted to Cerenity. She pictured her daughter’s trusting face as she slept, the faint curl of her smile when Luna tucked the blanket around her the night before. That trust—the quiet certainty that Luna would always protect her—was a weight heavier than any of the burdens she carried.

She let out a slow breath. If this is connected to them, if it’s anything that could put her in danger…

Luna squared her shoulders, forcing herself to stand tall. Get in. Get it checked. Get out.

The door hissed open, and the sterile scent hit her immediately. Luna’s instincts flared, her eyes darting around the room as she stepped inside. The medbay was quiet, its rows of biobeds gleaming under soft white lights. She took it in quickly: the nurse near the console, the exits on either side, the wall-mounted medkits. A tactical assessment. Old habits were hard to break.

“Can I help you, Ensign?”

The voice snapped her out of her thoughts. The nurse, a younger woman with a kind face, looked up from her datapad. Her expression was polite, professional, but the slight tilt of her head betrayed curiosity.

Luna straightened, her wings tucking tightly against her back. “I need to get something checked,” she said, her voice clipped but steady.

The nurse nodded, gesturing toward the nearest biobed. “Of course. Have a seat, and I’ll let the doctor know you’re here.”

For a moment, Luna hesitated. The hum of the medical bay’s systems felt louder than it should, blending with the sharp smell of disinfectant. She shifted her weight, her boots still hovering on the threshold.

Then she thought of Cerenity again. Her daughter’s laughter, her endless curiosity, the way she always seemed to trust Luna without question. That trust was why Luna had come here in the first place. She couldn’t afford to let her fears win.

She stepped forward, the door hissing shut behind her. Each step felt deliberate, measured, as though she were walking into enemy territory. She perched on the edge of the biobed, her wings pulling tightly against her back as her fingers rested on her knees.

The nurse approached with her datapad, offering a faint smile. “What’s the issue?”

Luna hesitated, her instincts screaming at her to downplay it, to leave, to bury whatever this was under layers of silence. But she couldn’t. Not this time.

Wordlessly, she extended her forearm, showing the faint marks. The nurse leaned in, her brow furrowing slightly before she quickly masked her reaction with a neutral expression.

“I’ll make a note of this and have the doctor run some scans,” she said, typing into her datapad. “It shouldn’t take long.”

Luna nodded stiffly, her jaw tight. She didn’t like this. The sterile environment, the faint hum of equipment, the feeling of being under someone’s scrutiny—it all crawled under her skin. But she stayed seated, her wings twitching slightly as the nurse turned away to prepare the scans.

Her gaze dropped to her forearm again. The marks seemed sharper now, more deliberate, like a message she wasn’t meant to understand. A quiet violation of her body, one she couldn’t ignore.

Her stomach churned, but her resolve held firm. Whatever this was, she would find out. For Cerenity. For herself.

ensign Luna