Todd came into the basketball court, an aluminum water bottle in tow. He had his hair pulled back, but it was messier than usual. He wore a plan pair of black basketball shorts and a white t-shirt. He took a ball off the rack, and tested it with a few bounces.

A lot had happened in the last few months. A lot to think about. And Todd always thought better when he was moving. After finding a good ball he dribbled it down the court and took a position in front of the basket.

It all started with the hearing. One month ago Star Fleet Command temporarily recalled every single officer with any form of shapeshifting ability. In their words, they wanted to review ‘security and transparency’ policies. Most people just took leave. He went to speak at Star Fleet headquarters. Not as someone of authority or a representative of any kind. Just as a concerned officer who would be affected by the decision.

He took his shot. It rolled around the rim before teetering in. It wasn’t perfect, but it was a point.

Their decision meant he had to choose between his job or his anonymity. From a Vendorian perspective it sounded like one of those outlandish philosophical thought experiments. And he chose his job, at least in a sense.

Todd scooped up the ball again. Dribbled in on the three point line. Lined up his shot, and followed through. With a swish it landed in the basket.

Taking a break from being the Executive Officer, he realized he missed being counselor. He missed directly helping people. Forming connections that felt more than dutiful. Now, he could have demoted Whitley, which she didn’t deserve, and left the crew in need of both a Captain and an Executive Officer. They didn’t deserve that either.

The thought was so ridiculous he dropped the ball mid pickup. It bounced across the court and he jogged after.

So that’s how he ended up here. Another ship, that happened to be in need of a counselor. A fine ship, so he had heard. He even got to keep his rank.

Dibbling the ball back he leaned into a mid court shot. And he missed.

Before they let him ship out again, they ran him through the ‘higher-standard’ medical tests his species require every once in a while.

Senbur’s Disease, a metabolic condition that affected his ability to stay in other forms for long periods of time. It wasn’t great news. There was no cure, not even on Vendor. The best treatment was ‘lifestyle adjustment’. Basically, not pushing his abilities too hard, and taking appropriate time to rest.

Todd took a swig from his water bottle. The feeling of the cool water was refreshing. Reassuring even.

Like maybe it wasn’t all bad.

Five point is five points.

|Lt. Cmdr. Nyman, Diplomatic Officer / CNS|