The lines of the report had blurred together a few minutes ago, but he was still trying to make his way through it so he could call it a day. In the background, he had the FNN playing on low volume, as he often did. Given the amount of deep reading he did on a daily basis, Rear Admiral Roger Kellen tried to get news and other information from a variety of sources so he didn’t have to read more. He remembered back in his starship captain days where he could actually read for leisure. Somewhere along the way that disappeared and he knew it had coincided with the additional pips.

The chime rang. “Enter,” he called out. His yeoman, Elise Sandoval, entered the room with a stack of PADDs in hand. She sat down across from him at his desk and slid the first one over with a slight grin.

Roger took the pad and glanced at it. “How many of these do I have to sign today?”

Elise shrugged. “I try not to count, it makes it easier.”

He snorted as he read through the contents and pressed his thumb to the authorization space at the bottom. She slid the next over. Rinse and repeat.

A few minutes in, his attention was drawn by some breaking news. News about Oed.

”…attaché to the Federation Ambassador, Dashiel Jones, was found dead in his apartment this morning. The colonial government held a press conference releasing the new but so far the investigation is in early days but the Police Commissioner did say that Mr. Jones’ death has been ruled a homicide.”

“Holy sh!t!” he said, rising to his feet and nearly knocking over his cup of coffee.

Elise took in the news and his reaction. “Did you know him?” she asked, searching his face for clues.

“No, but Eela does. They’re quite close.” Roger forced himself to take a breath. “Change in plans. We need to up the timetable. I need to get to Oed.”

“How soon?”

“Yesterday,” he said.

She immediately understood that this was a ‘do whatever was required’ situation. The signing of the remaining PADDs would have to wait a little bit longer. With a nod, she scooped up the items and headed for the door. “I’m on it.”

Roger sank back in his chair, feeling devastated for Eela, and he couldn’t help but wonder how this would affect diplomatic events. What a mess! His mind also couldn’t help slipping to the past. Eela was no stranger to death, but he had been a witness to when it stuck close to home.

2366, USS Berlin **

He ran through the corridor- not hurried, not rushed, but ran. Commander Roger Kellen stepped around a pair of officers talking, muttering apologies as he barely avoided colliding with them.

He had been in Engineering when everyone on the Bridge had heard the news. Best he understood it, Yeoman Avila had tearfully tried to coax Eela off the Bridge to share the news privately, but she had refused and stood there, forcing the news to come out there. When the news of the Borg attack on Jouret IV had filtered down to Engineering, Roger had no thought but to find Eela.

In that time she had apparently made it back to her quarters and he jabbed the chime, forcing himself to breathe and exude some sort of calm for the empath. She didn’t need his flux of emotions overwhelming her further. When there was no answer (despite the computer confirming she was there) he entered in his security code and overrode the door.

He found her sitting on the floor, back against the sofa, staring blankly ahead. Her hands rested on her very pregnant belly and as he drew closer, he could see the ripples even through her uniform tunic. Roger crouched, trying to catch her gaze, but it was like she wasn’t there. Sitting beside her, he wrapped his arms around her and held her close. “El, I’m so sorry. Your parents…” What could he say? That they deserved better than to be wiped off the face of a planet by a foe that cared nothing for the persons there? That Dr. Sayra Jesik and Torlo Dasca were some of the most fascinating people he’d been honoured to be introduced to? Sure he had only spoken to them over subspace, but Eela had arranged the original call with her mother as a surprise as a bit of a truce between their initial antagonism, and he, a former biological anthropologist, had been enthralled to speak with such a renowned person in the field of forensic anthropology. Not to mention her father, a herbal healer, was such a fascinating person to converse with. But more than that he knew how close Eela was with her parents and her inability to respond to him was not so unexpected.

Roger looked around the room, at the signs of the couple’s precocious four year old’s existence (Caridee was in childcare right now). Eela’s husband, Cory, was away, but don’t get him started on that one. Who in their right mind would intentionally be away from their very pregnant wife and not plan to be back until only a couple weeks before the due date? None of that mattered except that Eela didn’t have anyone to lean on right now except for him and the rest of the crew. They would have to do.

Two Weeks Later

The senior staff sat around the conference table going over key issues for the week. Roger was making notes on a PADD as they went, making sure to mark down what he needed to follow up with personally. He’d been glancing at Eela now and again and though he was worried about her, he also knew that grief was its own beast and sometimes there was no easy way through it but to just take it one day at a time. He was sure she’d have wise words for someone going through what she was, but she was the counsellor and they had well established that it was not his area of expertise. He just wished that Cory had been here sooner than only a couple of days ago, but it was what it was.

Suddenly their Captain, Ano Hoda, rose from his chair and moved around the table, concern etched into his features. He crouched next to Dasca and rested a hand on her arm as she turned to look at him, mouth set in a frown. “Eela, I think you should go with Dr. Freudenberger to Sickbay,” he said gently, a small smile on his face.

She blinked and shook her head. “I’m fine.”

Hoda’s smile turned into a smirk. “Possibly. But while I’m no physician, I think you’re in labour.”

Eela’s frown deepened. “It’s nothing. Just a bit of braxton hicks. It’s normal.”

Ano looked over at Serena and gave a nod to their CMO, who rose and kept her expression and emotions light as she came around. “It doesn’t hurt to take a quick look.” There was the unspoken concern that Eela wasn’t due for a couple more months.

Blowing out a breath and rolling her eyes, Eela pushed her chair back and Ano helped her to her feet. She winced, the pain now obvious to all of them, like she could feel her body again.

“I’ll go with you,” Roger said. “We’ll call Cory on the way.”

In Sickbay, Roger helped her onto the biobed and within a minute Serena nodded. “Yep, you’re in labour. By the looks of it, you have been for a few hours. I can try and stop it but it’s likely too late.”

Cory rushed in, and Roger released Eela’s hand and stepped to the side. “Hey, it’s going to be okay,” Cory whispered to his wife.

Wife-eyed, Eela shook her head. “No, it’s too early. I don’t understand why this is happening. We’ve had no complications.”

Serena sighed. “Sometimes severe stress can induce labour. To be honest, I’ve been prepared for this possibility. His vitals are good, Eela, so if stopping labour doesn’t work, we’re going to let things happen as they will.”

“I’ll come back in a bit and check on you,” Roger said. “Just remember, you’ve got this, El,” he said, filled with certainty enough that he smiled.

She gazed at him, those intense hazel eyes piercing him, and eventually nodded. “Thanks, Rog.”

“Anytime.”

Sitting at his desk in the VIP quarters on the USS Samara, Roger let the memory slip away, even as he recalled how her grief had complicated those early weeks with a premature Jourin, how she had struggled to do anything for herself, let alone be a mother to either of her children. Eela felt things deeply and she made no apologies for this ever, even if she often hid this fact from people until they got to know her better. In recent years though he had noticed her filtering a little less, like her brain injury had opened her up more. At least that was how he saw it.

The reality was that Cory’s appearance on Oed had created a very intense grief-like situation, and now coupled with the death of someone she had been open about caring for, well, Roger knew that Eela not only needed support but that certain precautions were needed. She needed a bit of watching over for warning signs, and though this situation was different than that one years ago, he had witnessed it again after her accident. He was the only one currently in her life who had witnessed more than once what happened when grief became too much to bear. Every cell in his body needed to be there with his friend. Over the almost thirty-five years they had been friends, they had never had to make promises to be there for each other. They just were.

As soon as he had a confirmed change of itinerary, he’d call her, but for now all he could do as wait. “I’m coming, El. Hang in there,” he whispered into the ether, as if she might hear him from so many lightyears away.

~Rear Admiral Roger Kellen