Drake was reclined in the chair at his desk in his quarters, in one of the few moments he could be described as relaxing. =/\=Incoming call from Lt Sara Lucas.=/\= the computer chirped. Sara was an old girlfriend from his first assignment he’d managed to remain friends with. He accepted the call, also accepting that his relaxed moment had ended. Sara’s face appeared on the screen in front of him. He couldn’t help but still be a little attracted to her. “So, the dashing ‘I can do anything!’ surgeon up and left? And went to some tiny hospital ship out in the middle of nowhere?” He took a deep long sigh. “Oh how I’ve missed you giving me endless crap for everything I do. You know they send the little ships everywhere interesting.” She rolled her eyes. “Ugh. Please. You know just as well as I do, from the ship where I am now the head of surgery…” There he cut her off. “Jesus. They must be desperate.” She glared at him and then smiled. “You know all the good stuff is on the big ships.” He laughed for a second. “I hope you don’t mean you. Casewise, betazoid psychically conjoined twins. Top that.” She faked looking hurt. “I didn’t mean me but now that you mention it…” after a pause, she continued “Ok. Conjoined twins. Spill.” Drake started to tell the whole story.

“…completely psychically linked. Never separated for a second.” Sara stared him down. “Bull. No way they can become functional. Not possible to create independent minds.” An almost evil grin crossed Drake’s face. “And yet they did. Told you. Way more interesting than where you are.” She sat back and folded her arms in front of her. “I admit nothing.” They both laughed. “Seriously Sara. I have missed this.” She seemed almost taken aback. “Drake. That was almost human. I’ve missed you too. Sometimes I wonder… We need to talk. Really talk.” Drake could feel his heart start to race. Nothing good ever started like that. “Ok. Let’s talk.” A silence hung in the air. “I don’t know if this is a discussion for a comms channel. Next time you have shore leave, come by and visit.” He stopped her. “Sara. Surgeons don’t get shore leave.” She closed her eyes before saying “I know I gave you a lot of crap for going to a small ship. Truth is, sometimes, I want to leave. The PaDDwork and nagging, being head surgeon sounds great, and then you do it. I knew the only way to find out what a place like the Ogawa is really like is to get you to act all proud about it. And sometimes I wonder if we gave this enough of a shot.” Drake sat, stunned, for what felt like ages. “So you’re talking about resigning from your post. And requesting transfer to a small vessel. Maybe the Ogawa. Because your friend you dated four years ago is onboard. Sara, you’re wonderful, and frankly when I saw your face first on the screen, the first thing I noticed is how beautiful you are. But you can’t just quit, and we can’t just pick up where we left off. Not because you wonder sometimes. If you’re really unhappy at your job, think about that. And… maybe we can start over. But I care too much about you to let plan your future around me.” She looked genuinely hurt this time. “What does that even mean?” Drake replied “It means that the arrogant ass you broke up with when we were 22 is still me. But now I’m older, and I’ve watched people die, so I’m darker.” “I’m a big girl, Drake. I can make my own decisions. I haven’t made up my mind yet, but I thought we should talk. And now I know how you feel.” “Just as conflicted as you are. I’m sorry I’m not more help.” She smirked. “There you go again Drake. Acting like a person. You should keep doing that. It suits you. I’ll call you again sometime.” “Anytime.”

-Drake Marshall