Ta’lahali Beveres. Of all the memories that Kara Nakuto still retained from her former life as the CO of the USS Viking, the young Kenyan’s calm demeanour and poignant wisdom was one of her most cherished. Selfish, in truth, for her to wish the Counselor still onboard. For nobody deserved to remain shackled to this accursed vessel for…how long had it been now? A year? And yet deep down, after the unrelenting torture of the last few days, the half-Klingon knew that to see anyone else seated in the CNS chair but Beveres herself would be enough to crush Kara’s fragile spirit entirely.

Had she thought of Nakuto at all over the past year? Had any of them? Kara had no right to expect any trace of loyalty, affection…even acknowledgement from her one-time crew. She had entered the mysterious corridor without even a seconds pause to consider the wider implications of her actions…and in doing so had abandoned her people to the storm. And now she had returned, broken, tormented, haunted…a wreck that should have been left to rot in the belly of the abyss. She was no good to them now, had nothing left to give while still needing to take all. And yet somewhere, deep down in the core of her being where a glimmer of humanity remained, Kara Nakuto hoped, prayed to all the gods who might listen, that behind this door she would find the thing she needed the most right now. A friend.

• Kara Nakuto