Nytha’rae did not speak while Skye told the story.

She stood quietly near the terrarium, her posture still and grounded, bare feet resting lightly against the deck plating as if feeling the structure of the ship beneath her. Her tail had slowed to almost no movement now, the tuft resting against the floor in a gentle curve.

The bioluminescent lines along her throat and cheekbones glowed softly in the dim laboratory light.

She listened.

Every word.

Every pause.

Every place where Skye’s voice tightened or nearly broke.

Nytha’kae watched from his branch inside the terrarium, head tilted slightly as the room filled with the weight of memories that clearly had not been easy to carry.

When the story ended, silence settled in the laboratory for several moments.

Nytha’rae’s gaze remained steady on the young ensign.

Not analyzing.

Not judging.

Simply seeing her.

Finally she stepped forward.

Her movements were slow and deliberate, the quiet balance of someone who had spent a lifetime walking forest paths rather than metal corridors.

“You believe these things have broken you,” she said softly.

It was not a question.

Her dark eyes briefly moved to the scars beneath Skye’s sleeve before returning to her face.

“But what I hear is something different.”

She paused a moment.

“You saved a life beneath falling stone.”

“You survived the chaos of a ship losing its mind.”

“And still you came back when the stars called again.”

The faint glow along her markings warmed slightly.

“That is not weakness.”

“That is a spirit that bends without breaking.”

Her gaze drifted briefly toward the terrarium where Nytha’kae rested among the glowing branches.

Then she looked back at Skye.

“You spoke of your companion.”

“Zephram.”

The name carried carefully from her lips.

“In my people’s language, we have a word for those who walk beside our lives.”

She rested her hand lightly against her chest again.

“Vaerith.”

“It means one whose spirit travels with yours.”

Her tail shifted slightly behind her.

“You should bring your vaerith here.”

The statement was gentle, but firm.

“No living path should be walked alone when it does not have to be.”

Then, without ceremony, Nytha’rae turned toward the wall where her weapons rack stood.

She lifted her bow down carefully, revealing the small preparation table behind it where several dried plants and mineral tools rested.

From a small shelf she selected a smooth river stone, worn flat from years of use.

Several leaves from the living terrarium plants were gently plucked—bioluminescent moss, a thin violet leaf, and a pale medicinal vine.

She placed them into the stone bowl and began grinding them together slowly.

The sound of stone against stone was soft and rhythmic.

A thick green paste formed under her careful work.

When it was ready, she scooped the mixture into a small container and walked back toward Skye.

She extended it toward her.

“For your scars.”

“They will never vanish completely.”

Her voice remained calm.

“But sometimes the body heals better when it remembers it is allowed to.”

She tilted her head slightly.

“And sometimes the heart does as well.”

Behind her, the tiny forest in the terrarium glowed softly.

And Nytha’kae watched the two officers with quiet approval from his branch.

LT.JG Nytha’rae

As the Lieutenant placed those plants on the table, she was allowed to breathe even if just for a moment. It felt as though rocks the ensign had been carrying for so long against her back had begun falling. The beating of her heart slowly beginning to steady at a slower rhythm instead of hammering directly against her ribcage. That rhythmic sound of stone grinding against a worn down bowl was a reminder from traditional medicine which Guardians often treated wounds, especially those who refused modern treatment.

But when her dog had been brought up, she shook her head ’I can’t break protocol once again, this is the last shot.’ Blue eyes met that pair of bioluminescent voids, looking up at the dragon whose head had been tilting since her arrival into the lab.

“You believe these things have broken you.” those words seemed to hit close to home, at this point just trying to keep a professional behavior. So many people had placed that faith on the wrong shelf. At this point the ensign wasn’t sure on how to react, both growing up as girl’s whose instincts were born to survive a forest. But a Federation starship? only some kids dared to dream on space travel.

“But what I hear is something different.”

The ensign had lifted her five fingered palm to interrupt Nytha’rae from her following statement, as she had placed so much hope. So much faith in a young ensign she had just met a couple of hours back. Both mandibles grinded teeth against each other.

“You saved a life beneath falling stone.”

That glance at her slightly rolled up sleeve seemed to crack her hard cover. “I was doing what we were trained to do when one of our own’s life was at risk.” were the words that abandoned those pale colored lips as both scientific gazes crossed their paths. “He was my instructor. I couldn’t just abandon a Senior Officer.” though a knot had already formed on her throat as she managed to get those last, few words out.

“You survived the chaos of a ship losing its mind.”

So many compliments had overwhelmed the 23 year old whose life had been spent in a starship. Yet leaving what was known to explore the unknown for a third time, being looked down at for so long had become Skye’s new normal. But those events going down onboard her second assignment happened to be that breaking point, threatened away from a career she had dreamt of as a child. The few times a year her father would visit their home world arriving from another successful mission. Disagreements from her parents were a common occurrence, yet they would be able to reach a consensus together.

That Sagan Class vessel had marked so much more than her Starfleet record, but trauma had been deeply ingrained into a 23 year old individual’s mind. Somehow, they managed to find her across the universe as someone who had already given up. Yet there she stood, dressed in science blues to start a new assignment. All it took was a joined Trill and the constant ringing of an Academy PADD for Shepherd to be standing right there.

“And still you came back when the stars called again.”

Speaking about Zephram was always something that helped. Vaerith, Nytha’rae had called them. Something similar to a guiding spirit. He had been the one to encourage her to give this ship a try. There wasn’t much left to lose if it all went down the wrong way. But determination would redefine the meaning of Starfleet in her eyes. But there was gratitude for someone to just stand there and listen instead of judging. Turning back to the screen, she had asked for one final request. Zephram to be brought onboard Chimera. Whether that would put her in trouble or not was another task to be solved.

Once the holographic display disappeared, the ensign rolled up the sleeve to her shoulder and let her do the rest with the paste her chief had offered. For the first time since entering that room letting a softer smile illuminate her face, “Thank you, Lieutenant.”

[[Ensign]] [[Skye Shepherd]]
[[Science Officer]] [[U.S.S. Chimera NCC-98730]]