Collin had spent the weeks the Olympic had been uneventfully patrolling the border of the Neutral Zone enjoying the mundane routine of the Olympic. Their brush with the mirror universe had left him shaken and he was still orienting himself to the loss of Captain Thorne. He had worried her dead, but knew now that wasn’t the case (OOC: I won’t be any more specific than that as she’d D’s character). The ship was different without her. A little lonelier, but he would make do. It was the nature of service in Starfleet, the permanence of impermanence.

His terminal blinked with an incoming message. It was from an NE on the Bridge, relaying a message to prepare Sickbay for possible patients. So something had happened? Collin was curious, but knew his primary responsibility was here. Only as he scanned the short message did he raise an eyebrow, truly curious. Romulans? Collin’s Sickbay was always prepared and he’d pondered the possibility of Romulan patients given their location, but he hadn’t counted on it. It seemed their quiet time was over.

Harding, CMO