River of Dreams

Posted on Tue May 27, 2025 @ 1:51pm by Commander Jack Aeyers

4,109 words; about a 21 minute read

Mission: 1. Trouble Brewing
Location: Toak Valley, Kendra Province, Bajor; USS Tantanoola, Captain's Quarters; Starbase Icarus
Timeline: December, 2229; 0421 Hours Mission Day 1, 2343

|Toak Valley, Kendra Province, Bajor
|December, 2329

Filling the hands of another downfaced Bajoran with rations and a scratchy grey blanket, Aeyers watched across the town square. As he and a team of junior officers from the Cairo handed out supplies to the desperate, needy, the sick and wounded, another officer, one he’d known since his first day on the USS Reliant, stood across the square. Aeyers watched him disapprovingly. The Lieutenant, affectionately referred to as ‘Johnny’, was the chosen one. He stood in a ray of golden sunlight with a twinkle in his eye and a placid smile, charming some Bajoran choirgirl who was twirling a mess of auburn hair around her pale fingers.

Aeyers’ bunkmate, Ed, smirked when he noticed Jack glaring across the way at Johnny. He too was passing out food. Despite it being a lovely afternoon in the Kendra Province, boy, was Aeyers under a dark cloud. “You all good, Jack?”

“Y-yeah,” Jack replied, passing a blanket and pack of nutribars to a Bajoran man who had half a face missing under a grizzly scar. Aeyers broke the disapproving gaze to offer the unfortunate man a sympathetic look as he passed by. Jack sighed, “Ed, why is it that us shit-kickers on the Cairo are stuck on hand-out duty and the boys from the Ambassador are on permanent liberty?”

There was a laugh from behind them, a young Bolian Ensign named Raddon, whose supple azure skin and smiley eyes made her seem jovial in any situation. “You know how it is, Jack, those officers on these new luxury liners get it easy. I prefer to work for a living. Don’t you find helping people absolutely delightful?”

Aeyers glanced over his shoulder, “Yeah. I love it.” He looked back over at Johnny, the Starfleet messiah, and folded his arms as the last of the downtrodden Bajorans shuffled through the aid station. “What is it they all see in him? Is it his cleft chin, the wiry physique or that thinning hair?”

“Maybe he doesn’t whine and complain like Raddon’s bird when it’s put in its cage?” Ed jibed.

“Okay… okay!” Jack smirked in realisation of how ridiculous he was being. No one was going to remind him to have a reality check, he’d need to do that himself. He only had to look around, knowing that shortly he’d beam back to the Cairo, enjoy a hot meal and a drink with Ed and Raddon, maybe put an hour into that Vulcan book about war he’d been reading, and hit the hay, safe and far from whatever atrocities were happening down here on Bajor. He clapped his hands together, stepping back as he began to place the surplus rations into a cargo container, “Alright, let’s get packed up and back to the Cairo. There’s a table reserved for us at the Sphynx Bar tonight and I’m hoping to see Ensign Hawke there.”

“Here we go,” Ed muttered, shooting a look at Raddon.

“Ed! She’s just,” Aeyers bit his knuckle and grinned widely, “Goddamn!”

Raddon beamed at Aeyers and patted him on the back reassuringly, “Good luck, Jacky-boy, you’re going to need it!”

“Heh,” Ed chuckled, dumping an armful of blankets into a container, “After the effort with Lieutenant sh’Vrosia last week they should rename that damned bar to the Necropolis.”

“I’m amazed that bruise healed so quickly,” Raddon giggled.

“Thank you both for your optimism and reassurance,” Jack began. “I’ll have you both know, and I think you’ll find that in Andorian culture, it’s a common courting ritual to—”

Aeyers paused and watched as a squadron of Cardassian troops entered the village square. All clad in dark brown armour, golden rifles in hand, they shoved and shouldered their way past the Bajorans. Their boots clunked against the ancient cobblestones, reverberating through the space.

The three officers paused their pack-up, observing from afar as the Cardassians operated as if the three maroon uniform-clad weren’t even there. A stern man, a troop leader they knew by the name of Glinn Dik, stood like a marble statue, towering above anyone else there, holding a PADD and examining the information thoroughly.

“It’s Dickface again,” Raddon growled, her eyes narrowing as she watched. They’d made a joke of his name, but in reality, the Glinn’s arrival was like a gang of Naussicaan thugs rolling through town.

Jack saw his mate Johnny grab his Bajoran beau by the arm and spirit her away. How brave. Aeyers instinctually reached for the phaser on his belt. Just to touch it. Just make sure it was there.

It wasn’t.

His weapon was nowhere to be found. The Cardassians had demanded three weeks ago that the Federation officers beam down unarmed, since they were on an alleged errand of mercy. He’d only made the mistake of drawing down on Glinn Dik once, and he’d never found the Cardassian officer’s name amusing since.

“Rovi Shutan!” The muscular Glinn called. When no Bajoran in the square even flinched, he repeated himself. “Rovi Shutan!”

“Are our translators working?” Ed muttered, watching the situation. The junior officer’s pace quickened as he tried to work out what was happening.

“Where is Rovi Shutan!” Glinn Dik’s lieutenant demanded, grabbing a nearby Bajoran villager by the collar.

Ed went to move against the Cardassian soldier. Raddon stopped him. Aeyers also moved his hand to restrain the officer. They had strict orders not to interfere. Ed backed down, tugging his tunic down to straighten it.

A hundred paces away, the villager began to whimper, clutching a handful of dirty clothes as the Cardassian glared at her piercingly. Impatient and without an answer, the soldier threw her to the ground, her washing spilling across the pavers as she wept in a crumpled mess. No soul was brave enough to go to her aid or provide comfort.

“We’re looking for Rovi Shutan,” Glinn Dik announced to the captivated audience of the square. “He is charged with committing terrorist acts against a Cardassian facility in the city of Yolja. It was reported he came to this village to seek refuge. If he does not turn himself in to the Cardassian Central Authority, or you do not provide information regarding his whereabouts leading to his apprehension, we will be required to return and conduct a search of the village. You have one Lek to do so. Good day.”

With that, the speech was over. The villagers began to move carefully, as if they were already in the rifle sights. They knew any false move could aggravate the soldiers. If one could see the tension on a dial, it was decreasing in decimals.
Helpless to intervene, the officers continued to pack their things. Aeyers had come to learn that a Lek, which was normally a word for a denomination of Cardassian currency, had been euphemistically exchanged in their lexicon to refer to a day- a ‘Cardassian day’- the length of which seemed to vary. It meant that the soldiers could return in twelve hours, or two weeks.

Raddon saw Dik and his men moving toward them. She gave Aeyers an elbow to alert him. Jack closed a filled cargo container and watched as the Glinn closed the distance, the Cardassian’s face softening as he neared the group of Starfleet officers.

“Lieutenant Aeyers,” Dik greeted, his lips almost curling into a smile. He nodded to the other officers, who Dik didn’t know as well. Flanked by his soldiers, he sighed, “I’m sorry you had to see that.”

“I heard about your troubles over in Yolja,” Aeyers began. “Nasty business.”

“I see news travels quickly. I know we both mourn the Cardassian and Bajoran lives lost in such an… unfortunate act of terror. You know, it really is a shame,” Dik started with a sigh of lamentation so put-on that it may as well have been wearing a frilly pink dress. “These people, they’re just going about their lives, and look what it costs them every time. Choosing once more to harbour a fugitive.”

“Allegedly.” Ed corrected from the back. His voice was flat, his eyes lost their spark in a way that was scarcely seen.

Dik gave a controlled huff of amusement through his nostrils. He looked to Aeyers, resisting the urge to tell him to control his smart-mouthed subordinate. “Lieutenant, I understand it’s time for you and your people to depart. A shame, if our agreements were not in place, I would have offered to host you for dinner.”

“What a… generous offer,” Aeyers smiled. “I understand you’re quite well known for your hospitality. However, rules are rules.”

“Of course,” Dik nodded. After a moment he looked back to his garrison of grey goons and gave the Cardassian version of a shrug. “It would be agreeable to have you. Your Captain was delightful company when he dined with us, I must admit I… enjoy the human perspective.”

Aeyers nodded and gave a polite smile. He let the statement hang in the air, giving Dik enough time to turn on his heel and rejoin his team. The officer marched off, his soldiers following, marching over the dropped laundry, another soldier tapping the woman with her boot, just to add insult to injury.

“I’d love to kick his ass,” Raddon hissed.

“Get in line,” Ed added, closing the last of the containers.

Aeyers smirked at Ed as he tapped his combadge. “Aeyers to Cairo, we’re finished here. Three to beam up.” Aeyers adjusted his uniform slightly as he waited for acknowledgement from the ship’s transporter. A moment later, a blast erupted. Cardassians were thrown everywhere, so too were Bajorans. Ed and Raddon went immediately to help. Aeyers didn’t even have time to stop them. He hit his combadge again. “Aeyers to Cairo. Belay that. We’ve got a situation down here--”

Without warning, another explosion ripped across the square. A fireball consumed a mother with her gaggle of children, their bodies flung to the ground. Amongst the smoke, debris and screams, Cardassians and Bajorans scrambled to their feet. Aeyers ran into the blast zone. He assisted a woman to her feet as he closed in on the Glinn. The Cardassian officer looked up, his eyes meeting Jack’s.

Dik’s expression was wild. His rage made it feel as if the Cardassian blamed Aeyers for what was happening. With chaos reigning around them, Jack did something even he couldn’t explain.

Without a word, he reached out to give the Glinn a hand.

|USS Tantanoola, Captain’s Quarters
|Mission Day 1, 2343

Jack’s eyes shot open. He found himself in his bed, blinking against the dark. He swore he smelled smoke, heard the ringing in his ears, felt the clammy coolness of the Cardassian officer’s hand. Instead, Jack found his palms were as sweaty as his brow.

Across the room, his silhouetted son stood in the darkness. He said nothing, clutching his teddy. Jack slipped off the bedsheets and sat on the edge of the bed, catching his breath.

“You okay, kiddo?” He asked.

The boy, barely able to speak, stood in silence for a moment. “I-I’ve been sick.”

“Alright,” Jack sighed. He let out a slow breath and nodded as he stood up with a groan. “Let’s go and clean up.”
He took his little man’s hand, sticky with fever, and led him out into their living room. Sure enough, the boy’s bed was covered in vomit. Aeyers looked between the puddle and his son. He raised an eyebrow and pondered how someone so small could produce such a copious volume of spew. The kid had been spacesick since the first day he arrived on the starship Tantanoola.

The little boy surveyed the damage himself, “Sorry, daddy.”

“No, no,” Aeyers knelt beside his boy and forced a smile. He picked the young lad up, the boy clinging to his father as he rested his head on his dad’s shoulder. “It’s okay, Zach, we’ll get this cleaned up.”

With his free hand, Aeyers bundled up the soiled blankets. He carried the boy and the bedclothes across the room, peering at the chronometer on the way past.

0423 hours, Stardate 20397. Well, at least it was 2343 again.

Dumping the bedding into a washing basket, he carried his son into the cramped washroom and placed Zach into the sonic shower, clothes and all. Activating the shower, Aeyers wiped down the young fella’s face and hands with a warm flannel.

“There ya go, kiddo, how’s that feeling?”

“Good,” little Zach replied meekly.

“Half your luck,” Jack muttered as he grabbed a new pair of pyjamas for his boy. In a way, the elder Aeyers felt lucky that it wasn’t his darling Jenice who he was seeing in his dreams. He still missed her. He missed what she could be for her son. He knelt back down by his boy, “Okay, Zachy, hands up!”

Zach’s hands were raised immediately. Still little, the toddler gave a hint of losing his balance as his dad changed his top. “Dad, are we going home soon?”

“Yeah, soon,” Jack reassured his boy. “Okay, leg!”

The boy pushed out a leg, followed by the other, allowing for a full change. He managed to change the bedding, somehow doing it with his boy asleep and dribbling on his shoulder. He put the young lad down and tucked him in, the kid’s arm lifted to slip the teddybear into the boy’s embrace.

Not a moment later, there was a beep from the com, “Bridge to Commander Aeyers.”

The Commander watched Zach sleeping peacefully and sighed. He went to the companel and answered the call, “Go ahead.”

“Sir, we’ve got an encrypted message coming through from Starbase Icarus for you,” The Tantanoola’s communications officer said over the com, “Top priority.”

“Patch it through to my cabin,” Aeyers replied quietly, watching his boy stir slightly. Aeyers was already like a cat on hot bricks, the Fading Sun, Icarus’ attached ship, had reported Cardassian posturing out by the border. He’d so far seen no sign of the spoonheads, but the thought still made him regret bringing his boy out this far for a bit of fresh air on one of the colonies.

“Uh… sorry, sir, we’re experiencing some issues with the computer system, you’ll have to take it up on the bridge.”

“Are you kidding, Ensign?” Aeyers hissed, trying his best to stay quiet. He paused. “Sorry. I’ve got a sick kid down here.”

“Dad?” Zach groggily croaked, coming to again. “You don’t have to go, do you?”

Aeyers pursed his lips as he watched his boy. “Listen, Ensign, unless you want to wake Chief Bronson to babysit, just get it on a PADD and have someone run it down here.”

There was a silence for a moment, the communications officer sitting somewhere between reminding the ships temporary commander that it was his choice to bring his boy aboard and relenting and giving Aeyers what he wanted. “I’ll get someone to head down.”

“Great. Thanks. Aeyers out.” He tapped the companel again and shook his head, “What the hell is wrong with Starfleet these days? Nothing works around here… man or machine.”

Jack left his boy for a moment and returned to the bathroom. Washing his hardened hands, he splashed the cool water on his face and towelled himself dry. Expecting company, he swapped a dark t-shirt and shorts for his white uniform undershirt and pants. Whoever was delivering his mail deserved a little decorum.

As if on command, his door chime sounded.

“It’s not locked.” Aeyers called.

Light from the corridor outside spilled into the cramped cabin as the door slid open. Yeoman Jana Petracca, a youthful brunette new to space service, entered with a PADD and thermos in hand.

“Good morning, Commander.”

“Yeoman. Hey.” Jack said, straightening a little.

“Mailcall!” She smiled, stepping inside the room. She offered Aeyers the PADD, followed by the beverage. She saw Zach on his bed and pouted, “I thought you could do with a coffee. Ensign Bids said your little man was unwell. Is he still getting his space legs?”

“Yeah. He’s alright, though. Hey, thanks,” Aeyers accepted the communique and drink. If only he was ten years younger, and Petracca had a commission. Oh, the trouble they could cause. It was a frequent lament on this mission, and nothing but the fantasy of an old salt. Jack took a seat and began reading.

Petracca watched Aeyers studying the letter with steady concentration, as he took hearty gulps of the brew. She could see the Commander didn’t look thrilled. “Problem, sir?”

“Ah, it’s just this,” He winced. “Cardassian guy. A Gil in the military. He keeps turning up on our doorstep at Icarus asking to speak to someone in charge. Spent a week doing it. The crew are starting to get tired of it. They want to know what to do, and they’re worried he’s going to pose a security risk. What the hell is Tel up to?”

“You would’ve thought the Captain would’ve made the time.” Petracca sighed. She was quick to correct herself, “Not that I’d presume to know her schedule or—”

“No, no, it’s okay, Yeoman. You’re right.” Jack let out a long breath. He ran his fingers through his thinning hair. “If I had it my way, I’d tell him to tuck tail and return to the Cardie garrison from whence he came. I wonder why he’s so persistent. I wonder why no one is speaking with him. Dammit. How long til we’re back at base?”

“ETA was about five hours when I was on the bridge.”

Aeyers looked at his boy, then Petracca. The sooner he was back on-base the better from the sounds of it. One week away from his desk and angry messages were piling up like the job had forgotten he ever left.

Jack sighed. “Can you get back up to the bridge and tell Lieutenant Serret to increase our speed to Warp 6. I know we’ll be pushing the engines and rattling the deck plating, but the sooner we’re back at Icarus and out of the crosshairs of,” he mouth the words ‘the Cardassians’ for his son’s sake, “the better.”

“Aye, sir.”

“Thanks, Petracca.”

“Anytime, sir. Perhaps you should get another hour of rest before we dock?” Petracca suggested.

“Hell of an idea,” Jack smiled. “Good night.”

|Icarus Station, Docking Port
|2 Hours Later

After an extra hour of restless sleep in a single-seat sofa across from his son, Aeyers packed up their gear and brought the Tantanoola into dock. Tethering the ship was no easy feat; it was like parking a skyscraper with warp engines inside a football stadium. But with a little close supervision and a few micron-perfect corrections, the Tantanoola’s crew made it look like child’s play.

Stepping into the bustling docking port, Aeyers held his son’s hand tightly. He’d lost his boy before after getting distracted in conversation with a colleague, and he was determined not to have it happen again. Nevertheless, shouldering past the throng of aliens, officers and interlopers, the pair knew there was no place like home.

Teddybear dragging along the deck from the littlest Aeyer’s hand, they passed a Mizarian vendor spruiking the finest used trinkets from here to Cardassia. Nearby, a Tellarite was chasing people around trying to hawk his jalopy of a cargo ship for a few credits to buy some recreational chemicals. Perhaps most familiar of all, a Pakled named Albo was selling hot drinks from his mobile store.

“Commander Jack!” Albo, a portly, alabaster-skinned alien called from across the arrivals area.

“Albo!” Jack called back, grinning to the vendor, who despite his excitement and joy at seeing a familiar face amongst the sea of passers-by, still had eyes that looked to droop with sadness. Jack was yet to determine if that was just how he looked, or if something was always bothering the Pakled.

“Your cup-o-Joe, Commander!” Albo exclaimed, offering Jack a thin plastic cup of coffee. Then the rotund alien, who wore what looked like a poncho made of used carpet, knelt down and handed Zach a beverage, “And a little something for Master Zach. A hot chocolate; not too hot, not too cold, just right and oh,” he reached up and placed a soft white little cube on the lid of the boy’s cup, “And one of these… they are called a marsh… mellon.”

“Thanks, Albo, but I don’t have any cash on me,” Jack said, tapping his pocket with his free hand as he wondered if he’d looked particularly dogged after a second unsolicited coffee this morning. “How about I go to my office and get something to pay you with--"

“I’ve already charged your account.” Albo beamed. “The one for the boy is complimentary.”

“Of course,” Jack laughed. “Well, good day, Albo, thanks for the drinks.”

Sipping their beverages as they walked through the spaceport, the Aeyers boys approached their favourite part of the journey, a corridor that ran along the outer ring of the immense Starbase Icarus, with towering windows to the outside of the station. From there, they lingered for a while watching ships big and small come and go. It had become an unsaid ritual of theirs.

“Starfleet!” Zach called, pointing with a crooked little finger to an Oberth Class that was orbiting outside. His hand swung starboard to a maroon vessel with a warp ring, “Vulcan!”

Jack knelt by his son and spent a few minutes with his boy telling him about the different ships and their stories, who their captains were if he knew them. This time, he shared a story with his boy about the time he saw a Gallamite freighter captain jettison a cargohold of massive goldfish in a shuttlebay. He recalled how he helped a security team chase a school of fish around knee deep in stagnant pond-water for two days. Zach giggled with delight as his dad acted out the great Icarus goldfish hunt of 2342.

After the little fella got sick of watching spaceships against the inky depths of space, the pair knew duty called. One more sip of chocolate and coffee and the pair were walking through the base’s corridors. It became like tiptoeing through a minefield as civilians and passengers were swapped out for Starfleet personnel the closer they got to the administrative heart of the Starbase.

“Commander, welcome back, I was meaning to catch you about--" A Lieutenant called, trying to capture Aeyers in a conversation that would’ve no doubt railroading him into adding forty items onto a to-do list longer than a Klingon Opera.

“Let me catch you after lunch!”

Another tapped Jack’s shoulder, “Commander, about the approvals for the torpedo shipment for the Fading Sun--"

“Forward it to my inbox, kid!”

“Commander Aeyers, there’s a Cardassian officer trying to reach you.” Another demanded, chasing him down the corridor.

Aeyers rolled his eyes. This again. “Yes, I’ve heard. Tell him we don’t take cold callers and that the Federation Embassy will be happy to speak to him.”

Jack felt like prey, hunted across the duranium planes of the starbase until finally he picked up his boy and carried him into his office. The door slid across and the hustle and bustle of the outside world quietened. Jack breathed a sigh of relief as his son looked up at him.

“Busy dad.” He cooed.

“Heh, you said it.”

The Commander put his son down on the couch and rounded his desk. He was greeted with piles of PADDs, no doubt containing gigaquads of paperwork and demands. A few more sleepless nights. A Cardassian to dodge. A call to make to the Fading Sun.

Cardassians stalking a Federation starship on the border. Let’s start with the easy stuff.

Watching his son slide off the couch and get stuck into a box of toy starships, Aeyers tapped his companel. “Communications, this is Commander Aeyers. Establish a link with the Fading Sun. I want to speak with Lieutenant Jefferson-Dal.”

The Commander sunk into his leather office chair. Waiting for the commlink, he watched as Zach made engine sounds with his mouth, zipping a Constitution Class model around in his hands.

Life was good.

OFF

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