It was a quiet evening, one of the few evenings that Kastarak did not seem to be acutely needed. Cdr T’Aria was in charge of Bridge. New crew rotations were in place. Engineering had reported all systems nominal. No patients in Sickbay. Mess hall service had gone without any incident. All was as it should be.

Kastarak was in his quarters – it was still odd thinking of this quarters as his, until just recently it had been Cpt Taggart’s. Taggart – he thought of Taggart – how Taggart had mentored him since his first day on the ship, and helped him navigate his life as a genocide survivor without a home. Taggart, though, had given him that home. But Taggart was no longer here. Incommunicado. Perhaps he was on the Mediterranean, as he had always wanted, sailing his sailing ship, making use only of those peculiar warm winds only to be found nestled in between the African and European continents.

Kastarak had experienced more isolation since becoming first officer, and even more, since becoming commanding officer. He could not help experience a sense of loss. No Taggart. No Sickbay. No patients to tend to.

He remembered how he had stood shirtless in the gym that day when Taggart promoted him to first officer. Both their shirts had ripped from the intensity of their sparring and workouts. The shirts had been low quality. Now, as captain, Kastarak had ensured that the synthesisers provided better quality gym shirts.

He quickly changed into one, – dark blue and somewhat compression-like with the letters CHRNV in white lettering across the chest – as if spurred by the impulsivity of the nostalgia of this moment. A pair of sweatpants replaced his normal slacks.

He moved quickly to the gym. Unexpectedly, it was entirely empty at this hour. It usually wasn’t. Curious, Kastarak thought of it, and looked around. There, in that corner over there, he had sparred with Dawson. There, by those treadmills, Kastarak had fallen once and received his first concussion. And there, just under the rings hanging from the ceiling, Taggart had promoted him.

He went to the rings, warmed up, and began his usual calisthenics routine.

Kastarak, Cpt
Commanding Officer