The transporter shimmered, and David Michaels materialized aboard the Genesis, his duffel bag slung over one shoulder—the only personal item he had been allowed to bring. Everything else—his saber, keepsakes from the future, even his DTI uniform—had been confiscated. Stripped of the tangible markers of his past, he carried only himself and the memories no one could take.

He stepped into the corridor, boots clicking softly against the polished deck, and let his gaze drift past familiar doors—the counselor’s office, Riley’s old quarters. His chest tightened. The memories were heavy: quiet conversations in the office, laughter, gentle touches, and the evenings spent wrapped together in Riley’s quarters. And then the moment that had changed everything—the day Jackson Grey had appeared, the vortex opening, Riley being dragged away. The echo of Riley’s voice, whispering “I love you”, still haunted him.

He had returned once before, after that loss, as an Ensign—the demotion a stark reminder of mistakes, of rules bent too far, of trust tested and lost. That time aboard the Genesis had been brief, a careful reintegration into a ship he had once commanded. The experience had been humbling, but it had reminded him that resilience could be forged in hardship, that redemption required patience, and that even the smallest victories counted.

After that posting, he had been sent to other assignments—missions that tested him in ways the Genesis never could. He had led research teams on temporal anomalies, investigated disturbances in distant sectors, and faced threats that demanded ingenuity, courage, and careful judgment. Each posting had shaped him, polished the rough edges of impulsiveness, and ultimately earned him the rank and position he now returned to: Chief Science Officer.

Of all the memories, however, some of the sharpest belonged to his time with Captain Calvin Marius. Their relationship had rarely been easy—arguments, stubborn pride, and opposing philosophies often set them against one another. Yet beneath that friction, David had always known Calvin had his back, quietly steady in his support even when words failed them both. That complicated bond was another weight he carried now, a reminder that trust was as fragile as it was necessary, and that returning to the Genesis meant confronting not only the ghosts of love lost but the captain who had once tested and tempered him in equal measure.

David exhaled slowly, feeling the weight of both the past and the expectations of the present. He adjusted the strap of his duffel and continued down the corridor, past the familiar doors, past the empty quarters that had once been a home of love and warmth. The memories of Riley were bittersweet, but they were also a compass, a reminder of why he had endured so much and why he still had the strength to return.

Perhaps the lounge first, he thought, a quiet drink, a chance to see the ship alive again, to reacquaint himself with the rhythms of life aboard the Genesis. Perhaps he would see familiar faces—or perhaps not. Either way, he carried the lessons of his demotion, the experience from his subsequent postings, the quiet support of a captain he had once sparred with, and the memory of Riley with him. They were enough to guide him forward.

David Michaels, once Chief Science Officer, time traveler, heartbroken, humbled, and resolute, was back. And this time, he intended to make it count.

—David Michaels, Chief Science Officer