Moving On

Posted on Sun Oct 12th, 2025 @ 6:55am by Lieutenant Dezarac Talvon
Edited on on Sun Oct 12th, 2025 @ 7:25am

1,159 words; about a 6 minute read

Mission: Year One: The Point of No Return
Location: Shuttle/Shuttlebay
Timeline: MD: -001 0800 hours

Dezarac Talvon cradled his face as the pain shot through his jaw. He watched the woman who had been facing him walk away until she was out of sight. Shaking his head, he flexed his jaw, trying to ward off the pain from her strike. A subtle laugh escaped as he rubbed the side of his face.

"Not sure I deserved that," he said. He turned to the short man next to him, catching his gaze.

"You did," said the Ferengi, a broad smile overtaking his features.

"Aww, piss off, Sully. I don't see you gettin' out there none," said Dezarac. "Besides. I was just saying goodbye."

"Exactly. You don't see it. Because I'm not crazy like you, Dez."

Dezarac stared at him with stern eyes. After a moment he shrugged. "Well, when you're right, I guess." He looked off into the distance. Transports filled his vision as the view of the San Francisco skyline was nearly obscured. "Graduation day. It’s like a damned cattle drive, opening the gates and releasing us to pasture." He sighed, looking again at his only friend.

"Well, I guess this is it, huh?" Sully said.

Dezarac noticed a sadness in the man's eyes. He chuckled. "Well don't get emotional on me now, pal. We knew this day was comin'," he said sarcastically.

"Yeah, yeah. I'm just...worried about you, Dez. I mean, without me around to watch your back, there's no telling what kind of trouble you'll land yourself in, you know?"

"Don't worry about me, Sull. I been takin' care of myself since before you was born. The galaxy ain't got me yet, I don't suspect it's likely to now. Besides, I got the big bad Starfleet at my back. That should set your mind right at ease.”

Sully laughed, but it didn't reach his eyes. Dez could tell he was honestly concerned for him. If Sully knew what he was running from, what he meant to leave behind, he might’ve been more concerned for himself, Dez thought.

"Yeah, that's what bugs me, I think," said Sully. "I know how you feel about orders and authority."

Dez laughed. He noticed that Sully wasn't. "Well, just 'cause they trained me up to be a fine officer, it don't mean they can take the me outta me, does it? Tell ya what. Just keep an eye on the arrest reports. If my name don't pop up from time to time, then ya know I ain't having no fun. Deal?"

Now Sully laughed. "Alright, alright. Deal." Sully extended his hand for a handshake. "Well? It’s been an adventure, Dez. And I'd say it's just beginning."

Dez looked at the hand extended toward him and batted it away. "Get in here," he said, wrapping the smaller man in a forced embrace. "Yeah, I guess I'm gonna miss ya after all. You're a piss-poor wingman, but I don't hold that against ya none. Just do me one favor, will ya? Get out there and give 'em hell for me while I'm stuck on that damn Starbase."

Dez sensed a commotion behind them as a small group brushed past in a hurry. Without looking to see what was happening, he glanced at Sully out of his periphery. "I hate to cut this tender moment short, pal, but we probably wanna be going. Like, NOW." He started off towards the transport station platform dragging his friend by the arm.

"Dez? What'd you do? What did you do?" asked Sully seriously.

"Aww, it's nothing dangerous. Mostly. Just a final parting gift for those Alpha pricks from OPS." He looked at his friend one last time. "But if anyone asks, we definitely didn't take the southeast hoverlift here."

Sully began to shake his head, a smile forming on his face. "Life sure is going to be different without you around Dez."

Dezarac took off on a slow run, leaving his friend behind. "Don't you know it, kid! See ya around the universe, if you're lucky!"

***

Dezarac awoke to the sound of the shuttle’s engines, a drone he knew all too well. He blinked away the sleep as the dimly lit interior appeared, slowly coming into focus. Images of Graduation Day still playing in his mind, he heard a faint, timid voice. Turning to view the source, Dez remembered where he was and where he was going.

“Sir, did I wake you?” asked the pilot.

“Nah, I had to get up anyway,” Dez responded. He glanced at the Pilot, a small Ferengi dressed in the crispest of Starfleet jumpsuits — an obvious company man if ever there was. The reason for the memory playing in his mind was now obvious. “Sull,” he said quietly.

“Pardon, Sir? What’s a Sull?” asked the pilot.

Dez leaned back, looking into the forward viewscreen. The black was littered with stars illuminating their way. He sighed. “Not a what. Just a who from way back. Guess you reminded me of him. Not a bad thing.”

“I see,” said the pilot. “A good friend?”

“Used to be. He ain’t around no more,” said Dezarac, the memory distant and haunting.

The pilot went silent, working the controls in front of him. Dez was content to sit in the quiet, uncomfortable lapses in conversation being well within his comfort zone. He’d much rather have listened to the drone of the shuttle’s engines than make small talk with the pilot. It wasn’t long before the coveted silence was dissipated by the Ferengi’s voice again, followed by a shrill alert tone from the console.

“Here we go, Sir. We’ve been cleared for docking. I’ll have you shipside shortly,” said the pilot.

“Great,” responded Dezarac.

“Can I ask what you’ll be doing aboard, Sir?” asked the pilot.

“Yeah, why not,” responded Dezarac.

The pilot stirred awkwardly as if waiting for a response. Dez offered none.

“Well, Sir?” asked the pilot again.

“I'm an Engineer,” responded Dezarac simply. “Or so they tell me.”

The pilot didn’t have time to respond. The control console chimed again as they circled around the starship that was now fully in view.

“Here we are, sir. The USS Moore,” said the pilot.

The Ferengi pilot skillfully coaxed the shuttle past the containment shield and into the shuttlebay, setting the small craft down lightly on the hangar deck. His hands swept across the reflective console entering a few final commands as the aft hatch began to hum open.

“Well,” said Dezarac as he stood from the seat, “thanks for the lift.”

“Of course, Sir. And good luck with your new posting,” responded the pilot.

“Yeah,” Dez huffed in response. “Right.” Slinging his bag over his shoulder, Dezarac descended the ramp, his feet landing on the deck of the USS Moore for the first time. He paused only momentarily, taking a deep breath before heading straight for the large cargo door, ready to get his introductions over with.

 

RSS Feed