Echoes of Blood Epilogue Part 1

Posted on 19 Jan 2026 @ 5:44am by Lieutenant Aev Flammia

1,375 words; about a 7 minute read

Mission: Echoes of Blood
Location: USS Charon & Runabout Loire
Timeline: 5 Days Previous

[USS Charon]

Aev lay quietly in the guest quarters aboard the Charon, studying the ceiling above him.

He’d intended to do little more than drop Sam off and return to the Arawyn. Instead, her report had sent enough ripples through Starfleet to warrant concern, and scrutiny. For security reasons, he’d be beamed directly aboard from the runabout and assigned temporary quarters pending a formal debriefing. Apparently, what had happened on Corvanis carried more implications than he’d first realized.

He spent nearly an entire day in bed.

Sam stopped by a few times to check on him; each time, he sent her away with assurances he didn’t fully believe himself. Ignis prattled now and then about inconsequential things, but when Aev failed to engage, the hologram eventually retreated into a rare, thoughtful silence in the living area.

His thoughts, however, refused to quiet.

So many questions. So much uncertainty. And an unsettling amount of distrust.

At some point in his childhood, a psionic block had been placed in his mind, carefully, deliberately. Why? And why didn’t he remember it? It had almost certainly happened during his time on Vulcan. He could understand the concern, especially now, knowing what his uncontrolled projection had done to Sam, and to the Remans.

But why had no one told him?

The realization felt like a fracture running straight through his foundation. He loved his parents, his real parents, the ones who had raised him. They had been kind, patient, unwavering in their care. And yet this omission, however well-intentioned, felt like a betrayal he wasn’t sure how to reconcile.

Then there was Rhal’s claim.

The possibility, however remote, that his biological mother was alive. Skath doubted it, and Aev knew better than to trust a Romulan’s word without proof. And yet… the hope he’d felt radiating from his grandfather had been unmistakable. What if it wasn’t a lie? What if it was true?

He snorted faintly. He was certain some Klingon proverb warned against trusting anything offered by Romulans.

The thoughts gnawed at him relentlessly.

He turned in the bed, only to hiss softly as something caught against the sheets. His hand went instinctively to his right arm, rubbing the small, thumb-sized metallic implant set just beneath the skin. One of Sam’s creations. It continuously monitored his neural and psionic activity, administering Lexorin as needed to suppress empathic spillover.

A new normal.

Starfleet, it seemed, had concerns about the person he was becoming.

The door chime sounded.

With a tired sigh, Aev sat up and forced himself out of bed. Expecting Sam again, he didn’t bother straightening himself before opening the door. Instead, he found Captain Yang standing in the corridor. The captain took him in with a quiet, assessing glance: rumpled clothes, unguarded posture, exhaustion worn plainly rather than hidden.

“Lieutenant,” Yang said mildly. “Is this a bad time?”

“No,” Aev said, stepping aside to make room. “I’m sorry. I’ve just… had a lot on my mind lately.”

Captain Yang entered without ceremony. Ignis, seated on the couch across from the low table, offered a brief nod of acknowledgment and then returned to his uncharacteristic silence. Aev found himself quietly grateful for that, he wasn’t sure he had the energy for Ignis’s usual commentary.

“That’s understandable,” Yang said evenly. “Given the contents of your report.” He clasped his hands loosely behind his back as he spoke. “Starfleet is dispatching two vessels to the Reman settlement on Corvanis. The purpose is follow-up, assessment, aid, reassurance. Separately, the Federation has filed a formal complaint with the Romulan Free State regarding the incursion and the use of force, which is… difficult to reconcile with existing treaties.”

Aev’s brow furrowed. “What will happen to the Remans?”

Yang didn’t hesitate. “The Federation was not unaware of their presence. It’s no secret the Remans were subjected to severe mistreatment under Romulan rule. When it became clear they’d settled on Corvanis, it was deemed pragmatic to allow it.” His tone remained neutral. “Providing them a world of their own reduced pressure on several border systems. So we chose not to interfere.”

He met Aev’s gaze. “This will be a relief mission. Nothing more. Starfleet will also deploy a remote monitoring platform to provide early warning should the Free State attempt another incursion.”

Aev let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. One of his lingering fears, sparked by Sam’s insistence on a full report, had been that Starfleet might forcibly relocate the Remans. The reassurance settled something tight in his chest.

“I see,” Aev said quietly. After a moment, he added, “When can I return to the Arawyn? I’d like to rejoin my ship.” He paused, catching himself, remembering that not long ago, the Charon had been his ship, and Yang his captain. “I’m sorry, Captain. I mean my current assignment. I’d like to return as soon as possible.”

Yang studied him for a moment, then smiled faintly. “You have your father’s stubbornness, Flammia.” He inclined his head. “You may begin preparations to depart. Lieutenant Dawes will accompany you, however. Given the… recent developments, I believe it’s wise you have someone monitoring your adjustment to the medication and any residual effects.”

Yang turned toward the door. “I’ve already briefed your current captain on the situation. I expect she’ll want to speak with you herself.”

He paused, glancing back. “One last thing, Lieutenant,” Yang said gently. “Your father is… concerned. After reading the report from Corvanis, that concern is understandable.” He hesitated, as if weighing the propriety of the advice. “This may be more personal than professional, but I’d recommend reaching out to him sooner rather than later.” A faint, reassuring smile touched his expression. “Have a safe trip back to the Arawyn.”

The door slid shut behind him, leaving the room quiet once more.

[Runabout Loire]

Aev sat in the pilot’s seat of the Loire, hands resting loosely on the controls. From the rear cabin came the increasingly animated sounds of an argument.

“You moved that piece,” Sam snapped. “Don’t even try to pretend you didn’t.”

“I optimized its position,” Ignis replied primly. “A subtle but important distinction. Also, you were distracted by your noodles.”

“That was strategic sustenance,” Sam shot back. “And you’re a hologram. You don’t get to use distraction as a variable.”

“I get to use all variables,” Ignis said smugly. “That’s sort of my defining trait.”

Aev couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at his mouth.

When he had set out for Corvanis, it had been because of a recurring nightmare. Now that nightmare had unfolded into a reality far stranger, and heavier, than anything he could have anticipated.

Resting in the copilot’s chair was the small communication device Rhal had given him. One detail conspicuously absent from the official report. He knew exactly what would have happened if Starfleet had known about it: they would have confiscated it without hesitation. And he couldn’t bring himself to surrender the only tenuous thread that might lead him to his biological mother.

“Admit it,” Sam said from the back, “you’re cheating again.”

“I am winning,” Ignis corrected. “Cheating implies insecurity.”

Sam made an incoherent sound of outrage.

Sam hadn’t liked the omission, but she had understood it. Together, they’d run exhaustive scans of the device’s circuitry, turning it over piece by piece until they were satisfied it posed no immediate danger. As far as they could tell, it was nothing more than a communications relay tuned to Free State signal bands. Still, the guilt lingered. He told himself he might mention it to Corbin eventually. Just… not yet.

“For the record,” Ignis added, “your king is exposed. Emotionally and tactically.”

“Oh, screw you,” Sam said, then paused. “Wait, no, don’t touch that piece…”

Aev leaned back in his chair and let the noise wash over him. The bickering, the familiarity, the shared space, it all felt grounding. After everything that had happened, the normalcy of it was a small comfort.

But it was enough.

= Fin? =

 

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