[Backlog] Threads of Concern, Aev and Sabrina

Posted on 16 Nov 2025 @ 3:22am by Lieutenant Aev Flammia & Captain Sabrina Corbin

2,333 words; about a 12 minute read

Mission: After Tarvik
Location: Captain's Ready Room
Timeline: Before Departure of SB 369

= USS Arawyn =

The situation with Ignis was beginning to unnerve him. When Aev had first received the device, he’d treated the AI as nothing more than a sophisticated tool, useful, if occasionally insufferable, thanks to its built-in personality quirks. He didn’t feel threatened by Ignis, not even after Dave’s warning, but unease lingered all the same. He couldn’t help wondering about the program’s long-term potential? Whether, given enough time and independence, could Ignis become dangerous? There was no evidence of that. Not yet, at least. But the more Aev reflected on Ignis’s behavior, the more peculiar it seemed.

No doubt the Captain would be receiving her own report soon regarding the prototype holobands. And then there were the dreams... the Remans, their voices, and the lingering sense that their words meant more than mere echoes of the subconscious. She couldn’t help him with that, but the thought only strengthened his resolve. He would find out what waited on Corvanis IV.

When the turbolift came to a halt, Aev straightened, gathering his composure. Crossing the bridge, he stopped before the ready room doors and pressed the chime, his heart ticking faster than he cared to admit, as he waited for permission to enter.

The soft tone of the door chime pulled her attention just enough for her to register the sound.

“Come,” Sabrina murmured, eyes still moving across the report projected before her. The glow from the console cast faint shadows across her face, lines of quiet focus broken only by the rhythmic tap of her stylus against the desk.

It took her a moment longer than she intended to look up. When she did, she found Lieutenant Flammia standing just inside the threshold, posture straight, expression drawn tighter than usual. Whatever this was, it wasn’t routine.

“Lieutenant,” she said, setting the padd aside and motioning him in. “You’ve saved me the trouble of calling you.”

Her mind went at once to the report she’d read that morning. The analysis had been thin, and what it did reveal only deepened the questions.

“I assume this is about Ignis,” she added, voice even but with a hint of dry understatement that betrayed her awareness of the issue’s weight.

“Partially, Captain,” Aev said, his tone measured and more an echo of his Vulcan upbringing than the quiet Romulan unease tightening in his chest. He stepped forward. “I assume you’ve already received the report regarding the other prototypes and participants, so I won’t repeat those details.” The door whispered shut behind him as he entered fully.

“There’s no evidence of any immediate threat to myself or to Ignis,” he continued. Though whether Ignis himself posed a threat to Aev or to the Arawyn was another matter entirely. He wasn’t ready to voice that concern, not yet. “Still, I believe it would be prudent to implement some precautionary measures. There are several unknown variables in play, and I’d rather we stay ahead of them.”

Sabrina watched him for a moment, reading the undercurrent he didn’t voice. She didn’t call it out. Instead, she gestured toward the sitting area near the viewport, the faint edge of a smile easing the formality.

“Take a seat, Lieutenant. Let’s talk about what’s troubling you,” she said, rising from behind her desk. “Would you like something to drink? I’m overdue for some tea.”

Following the Captain’s gesture, Aev took a seat across from her desk. “Plomeek tea would be appreciated, Captain,” he said, settling back slightly. “Ignis’s program is definitely...” he paused, choosing his words carefully, “...unique. At first, I attributed it to the sophistication of the technology itself. But the more I reflect on our interactions, the more I begin to think there’s something else at work.”

His brow furrowed. “It feels as though he possesses an awareness that goes beyond programmed subroutines.”

Sabrina couldn’t help the quiet chuckle that slipped out when he took the seat directly opposite her desk instead of the chairs she’d indicated near the viewport. “Of course you would,” she murmured, not unkindly.

She rose, crossing to the replicator. “One Plomeek tea, one Darjeeling,” she ordered softly, the familiar hum filling the brief silence. A moment later, she returned, handing him his cup before settling into the armchair across from him, this time in the intended seating area.

“You said you think there’s something else at work,” she prompted gently, lifting her own cup. “That Ignis feels… aware.” A small, knowing tilt of her head followed. “Tell me, Lieutenant, is it possible you’re reading a bit too much into him?”

Her expression softened as she added, “My cat has very strong opinions about who’s allowed near my desk. I’ve been accused more than once of anthropomorphizing his moods. Perhaps you and I are both guilty of assigning too much intent to our companions.”

She took a slow sip, watching him over the rim of her cup. “Or perhaps not. Convince me.”

Aev took a slow sip of his tea. The faintly fruity essence of the Plomeek, replicated though it was, stirred a flicker of nostalgia.

“The problem is, Captain,” he began, “I’m not entirely convinced myself. It’s possible I’m just reading between the lines, so to speak. His mannerisms, reactions, even his moods... they could all be the byproduct of advanced quantum processing. Perhaps even functions the researchers don’t fully understand yet.”

He paused, exhaling through his nose. “I’m sorry, Captain. I know it sounds uncertain, but… there’s something about him that feels too real. An uncanny valley of sorts.” He smiled slightly "not the most scientific assessment."

Sabrina smiled faintly over the rim of her cup. “Not the most scientific,” she agreed lightly, “but perhaps the most honest.”

She set the tea aside, resting her hands against her knees as she regarded him. “The uncanny valley has unnerved engineers and philosophers alike for centuries, Lieutenant. You’re in good company.”

There was no reprimand in her tone, only a quiet understanding. “It’s not unusual to feel unsettled when technology blurs the line between simulation and sentience. The question,” she continued, “is whether that feeling is intuition warning us of a genuine problem… or simply the discomfort of confronting something new.”

Her gaze drifted toward the holoband resting on her desk, expression thoughtful. “Either way, my first concern is the safety of this crew and this ship. Do you believe either could be at risk—from Ignis or from this technology?”

After a brief pause, she met his eyes again, voice steady. “And if you had to trust one over the other, your instincts or your data, which carries more weight here?”

“I don’t believe he’s a danger,” Aev said, carefully omitting the word yet that hovered unspoken at the end of the thought. He didn’t think the current Ignis would ever harm him or the crew but he also had to admit he didn’t fully understand the extent of the AI’s safety programming. Too much about Ignis was still classified, even to him.

“No,” he continued after a moment, “I don’t believe he poses any threat to the ship or its crew... at least, not at present.”

Sabrina studied him for a moment, the faint lift of an eyebrow acknowledging the unspoken word. She didn’t need the yet to hear it.

“Good,” she said evenly. “Let’s keep it that way. No need for alarms, but put a few quiet safeguards in place. I’d rather be prepared than surprised.”

She took another sip of tea, watching him over the rim. “If anything changes, or if that instinct of yours starts whispering again, you bring it to me directly.”

Setting her cup aside, she added, “Was there anything else on your mind, Lieutenant?”

"Yes, Captain," Aev said, leaning slightly back in his chair. He hesitated for a moment before continuing. “There’s one more matter I’d like to discuss.” He studied her expression carefully. “I wanted to ask how amenable you might be to my taking a short leave of absence. There’s… something I’d like to look into further. It shouldn’t take more than a few weeks at most.”

He drew in a quiet breath, his tone softening. "I realize the timing isn’t ideal, given the Arawyn’s new assignments but this is something I can’t quite ignore."

The request gave her pause. Surprise flickered across her features before settling into something more measured.

“A leave of absence,” she repeated, setting her cup aside. “That’s unexpected, Lieutenant.”

She regarded him carefully, weighing her next words. “Is this connected to Ignis, or something else entirely?” Her tone stayed even, but there was a trace of concern beneath it. “If there’s something I can assist with, I’d prefer we address it before you step away.”

Aev was silent for a moment, weighing how much he actually wanted to reveal. The more he thought about it, the more absurd it sounded. Between the situation with Ignis and this, he was bound to seem at least a little unhinged.

He bit his lower lip, then exhaled and gave a small nod. “It’s about my last mission aboard the Charon. We were running relief supplies to the refugee settlement on Rhaevath. While we were there…” He hesitated, the memory flickering vividly in his mind. “I was approached by a Reman. They said they knew of my family and told me to go to Corvanis if I wanted to learn more.”

He let out a slow sigh. “I looked into it afterward. The planet’s an old, abandoned dilithium mining colony, long since written off. But it’s been… bothering me. I keep thinking there’s something there, and I’d like to see for myself.”

Sabrina absorbed his words in silence, the faint crease between her brows deepening as he spoke. When he finished, she exhaled slowly, setting her tea aside.

“That’s… quite a revelation to carry alone,” she said, her tone calm but undeniably attentive. “And an unusual request to receive from a stranger on a relief mission.”

She didn’t sound skeptical, just careful.

“Corvanis IV isn’t a place anyone goes lightly. Abandoned colonies tend to be abandoned for a reason.” She paused, eyes steady on him. “And whatever this Reman believed they knew about your family… that’s not something I take lightly either.”

Her posture shifted, not defensive, but engaged. “I can see why it’s been weighing on you. But before I approve a leave of absence, I need to understand one thing.”

A beat.

“Why now? After all this time, what makes this the moment you feel you have to go?”

Aev leaned back slightly, taking a small sip of his tea and noting that it had already gone lukewarm. “If I may be candid, Captain,” he began, his voice low. “The timing hasn’t exactly allowed for it. It’s not ideal to request leave right before a new assignment.” A faint smirk touched his lips. “Probably not right after a shakedown cruise either. But it’s been weighing on me since I came aboard.”

He exhaled slowly. “I’ve been having these… vivid dreams since that encounter. Always the same one. I’m on a world that feels strangely familiar. A storm is coming. I’m running toward someone... a man who feels like my father. I can’t see his face, but I know him. Every time, he’s surrounded by Remans… speaking with them.”

Aev met the Captain’s eyes. “I don’t know where I come from, beyond the story that I was abandoned at the Starfleet medical camp where my mother was stationed... by a Reman.” He paused, searching for the right words. “I’ve never had any memories of my biological parents. Not a dream, not even a trace of a memory. Until that encounter on Rhaevath. Since then… it’s like something’s been pulling at me. I can’t explain it, but it doesn’t feel random.”

For a long moment, Sabrina said nothing.

Not out of doubt, nor disbelief, but because she was giving his words the space they deserved. She watched him carefully, the way his posture held tension even as he tried to appear composed, how the quiet desperation threaded through his account of dreams and memories he’d never had before.

When she finally spoke, her voice was gentler than before.

“Lieutenant… if something has been pulling at you this strongly, ignoring it won’t make it disappear. And it certainly won’t let you focus on your duties with a clear mind.”

She rose from her seat, taking a few steps toward the viewport before turning back to him.

“You’ve carried this alone for a long time. Longer than anyone should have to. I won’t pretend I understand what those dreams mean, or what you’ll find on Corvanis IV… but I do understand what it’s like to feel that something important is just out of reach. And that you can’t move forward until you face it.”

Her tone shifted, not softer, but firmer, the steadiness of command returning.

“You have my permission to take the leave.”

A small, measured nod followed.

“But you will not go in blindly. I want you properly briefed on everything we have about Corvanis, its history, and its hazards. I want your route logged, your expected timetable recorded, and a secure check-in schedule established. And if anything feels wrong, anything at all, you pull back and notify Starfleet immediately.”

Her expression eased once more.

“You owe yourself answers, Lieutenant. Go find them. And when you’re ready…”

A faint, almost warm smile touched her lips.

“…you have a place on this ship to return to.”

 

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