The Space After the Storm
Posted on 28 Jan 2026 @ 3:13am by Lieutenant Aev Flammia & Captain Sabrina Corbin
1,663 words; about a 8 minute read
Mission:
Lathira Shoreleave
Location: USS Arawyn
Timeline: Present
[USS Arawyn]
It took them roughly four days to travel from the Charon to the Arawyn. Aev spent nearly all of that time lost in his own thoughts. The dreams were gone now, replaced by a strange waking nightmare that no longer faded when he woke.
During the journey, Sam worked with him to fine-tune the strength of his new Lexorin implant. It took time, but the results were… tolerable. He could sense emotions again, though only dimly, like shapes moving through a distant fog. He preferred it that way. The dulling effect of the medication brought a fragile kind of quiet to his mind.
Sam had warned him not to increase the dosage too far. One day, she’d said, you’ll have to learn how to live with your psionic abilities.
For now, Aev was content to hide behind the Lexorin.
The Arawyn, meanwhile, was stationed in the Lathria system, the crew enjoying shore leave after their most recent assignment. Aev was glad for them, it had been a long stretch of work, and they’d earned the respite. As for himself, after everything that had happened, he found he was ready to return to duty. Routine felt… steadying.
When they arrived, Aev beamed aboard with Sam acting as his self-appointed “chaperone.” Together, they made their way to the bridge and stopped outside the captain’s office.
He still hadn’t asked Captain Yang how much he’d shared with Corbin.
Aev suspected he was about to find out. He pressed the chime and waited.
“Enter.”
The ready room doors parted.
Captain Corbin stood near the replicator, sleeves of her jacket pushed up, the lines of her uniform just a touch less formal than usual. A mug of tea sat on the counter beside her, steam rising in a thin curl. She had been reaching for it when she looked up.
She paused.
For a fraction of a second, surprise crossed her face. Not alarm. Not irritation. Just a genuine recalibration as her eyes moved to him, then briefly to the lieutenant beside him in blue.
“Lieutenant Flammia,” she said. “I wasn’t expecting to see you today.”
There was something quietly pleased in her tone, as though the interruption had landed better than whatever she’d been preparing to read. She straightened, setting the mug aside without taking a sip.
“I’ve just returned from shore leave,” she added, almost as explanation. “And I’m still catching up.”
Her gaze returned to Aev, attentive now in a way that felt deliberate rather than procedural.
She inclined her head politely toward the other officer. “Lieutenant.”
No name. No assumption. Just acknowledgment.
Then, to Aev, with a small gesture toward the seating area.
“Please. Come in.”
She waited until the doors slid shut behind them before speaking again, her voice lower, steadier.
“I’m glad to see you back aboard,” Corbin said. “And upright.”
Not a joke. Not quite. But close enough to kindness to matter.
“Why don’t you introduce me and fill me in.” She requested as she sat across from them.
Sam gave a quick, easy smile as she sat down. “Lieutenant Samantha Dawes, Medical Officer aboard the USS Charon,” she said. “I’m also a friend of Aev’s. I accompanied him in a… preventative capacity.” Her smile became a little awkward “That’s me. I’ll let him take it from here.”
Aev nodded and began to outline what they had uncovered on Corvanis. He spoke first of learning that his biological mother had been part Reman, then of his Romulan father and the history surrounding him. He described the mind-link with his grandfather, recounting fragments of the memories he’d experienced, pausing more than once to steady himself before continuing.
He ended with the arrival of the Romulans and the events that followed.
Aev was careful to omit several key details. That was why Ignis remained confined to the ring…for now. He wasn’t certain how much the hologram might reveal unintentionally, and discretion felt wiser, even if it meant enduring Ignis’s commentary later.
When he finished, Aev yielded the explanation of the empathic projection and the Lexorin implant to Sam.
Sam folded her hands together, calming herself before she spoke. When she did, her tone was clinical. “What happened on Corvanis was an uncontrolled empathic projection,” she said. “Aev wasn’t just receiving emotion. He was broadcasting it. Grief that intense overwhelms nervous systems that aren’t prepared for it.” She paused. “Mine included.”
She met Corbin’s eyes steadily. “It crippled me. Temporarily. The Remans were affected as well, even those trained to endure psychic contact. There were moments where no one in the room could function normally. That level of empathic output can incapacitate entire groups if it isn’t checked.” She drew a measured breath. “That’s why I chose Lexorin-P. It’s Lexorin augmented with a psylosynine inhibitor designed specifically to interrupt empathic amplification and projection pathways. It’s fast-acting, predictable, and doesn’t compromise higher cognitive function. In Aev’s case, it stabilized him long enough for his nervous system to recover and prevented further projection.”
Then she shifted, subtly, into explanation “the implant builds on that same principle,” Sam continued. “It continuously micro-doses Lexorin-P while actively monitoring psionic activity. Incoming empathic signals are filtered and diffused before reaching conscious processing. More importantly, outbound projection is dampened unless deliberately initiated. That prevents overload and, critically, prevents involuntary projection.”
Her expression hardened just a fraction. “Without it, what happened on Corvanis could happen again.” She softened slightly “the implant isn’t meant to erase his abilities. It’s meant to keep him, and everyone around him, safe while he learns control. Lexorin bought us time. The implant gives us a path forward. That’s also why I am here. To not only monitor Aev and the implant but also give a thorough report to your medical team here. So…” she forced a small smile “permission to stay aboard until that’s completed?”
Corbin inclined her head toward Dawes.
“Thank you, Lieutenant,” she said evenly. “That was a clear explanation, and I appreciate you seeing Lieutenant Flammia safely back to us.”
Then her attention returned to Aev.
“You’ve been through a great deal on this journey,” Corbin said. “More than most officers are asked to absorb all at once.”
She studied him for a moment, not weighing his fitness, but his steadiness.
“Are you sure you want to step straight back into work?”
She let the question sit.
“I’d strongly recommend counseling,” she continued, matter-of-fact. “Not as a requirement. As support.”
Her gaze flicked briefly to Dawes. “You’re welcome to remain aboard while you coordinate with our medical team. I’m sure Captain Yang sent a message, but I haven’t reviewed everything yet.”
Then, back to Aev, gently firm.
“Doctor Amberlyn will need to be fully briefed,” Corbin said. “She’ll review your condition and clear you before any return to duty.”
A pause.
“For now,” she added, “I’d like to hear what you think the next step should be.”
Aev had expected the hurdle. It was reasonable and exactly what he would have required of a subordinate in her position. Even so, a thread of frustration tugged at him. His mind was still in motion, caught in a kind of flight response, struggling to settle after everything that had happened. Part of him wanted distance. Escape.
He inclined his head slightly. “I do, Captain. And to be honest, the structure of work would be welcome right now.” He paused, choosing his words with care. “Once Doctor Amberlyn is fully briefed, I’ll ensure the process moves quickly.”
His hand brushed absently against the device on his arm as he shifted, then he caught himself, easing back into stillness. “I also agree that counseling is appropriate,” he added. “That said, I’ll defer to your judgment once you’ve had the opportunity to review Doctor Amberlyn’s assessment.”
Corbin watched him closely, not for signs of instability, but for the effort it took to remain composed.
A small, almost rueful smile crossed her face. “You’ll forgive me if I leave the medical conclusions to people with better bedside manners than a starship captain.”
The humor was gentle, meant to ease rather than deflect.
She met his eyes again.
“I hear the urgency beneath what you’re saying,” Corbin said quietly. “The need to move. To anchor yourself to something familiar.”
A pause.
“That instinct has kept a lot of good officers standing,” she continued. “But it doesn’t have to carry the weight alone.”
She did not offer solutions. She did not press.
Instead, she simply held the space.
“Take the time you need to answer yourself honestly,” Corbin said. “The ship isn’t going anywhere... yet.”
“I understand, Captain.” He inclined his head in acknowledgment, though her words passed through him like water through a sieve. He needed the distraction of work; the sooner he could return to routine, the steadier he would feel. The quiet in his mind left too much room for thoughts he wasn’t ready to sit with.
“If there’s nothing further,” he added, measured and respectful, “I’ll return to my quarters and then report to Doctor Amberlyn.”
Corbin nodded, accepting the boundary he was drawing.
“There’s nothing further,” she said gently.
Her gaze softened, just a touch. “I’m glad you’re back, Lieutenant. Truly.”
She turned then to Dawes, offering a small, welcoming inclination of her head. “Lieutenant Dawes, you’re welcome aboard the Arawyn for the duration of your coordination with our medical team. We’ll make space.”
Her attention returned to Aev one last time.
“Take the time you need,” Corbin said. “We’ll be here.”
[ End ]
Captain Sabrina June Corbin
Commanding Officer
USS Arawyn
Lieutenant Aev Flammia
Chief of Security
USS Arawyn
Lieutenant Samantha Dawes (NPC)
Medical Officer & Surgeon
USS Charon
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