A Matter of Trust

Posted on Sat Jul 18th, 2026 @ 9:49pm by Centurion Nancy Gable & Lieutenant Commander Savin & Nveid tr'Rehu

3,344 words; about a 17 minute read

Mission: Intermission: Safe Haven
Location: Medical center, Haven Colony

Dr. Gable paused to look up at the sign, newly hung above the string of prefab buildings they were calling a hospital: Faehl Hiifve'khfi [Haven Medical Center]. It was only half finished, but she'd seen (and worked in) worse. Everyone had pitched in. Granted, some had been more voluntold than volunteer, but still Nancy took some pride in how far they'd come in a short time.

Then she took a breath before walking through the doors and into chaos.

Beyond a waiting room full mostly with parents with children - generally typical active-kid injuries, though on a new planet there were new allergies cropping up that needed to be tracked down so treatments could be developed - were curtains cordoning off wards that were still being finished. The ED was fully functional as that had been a priority, and for reasons obvious by the waiting area, pediatrics had been pushed to ready status. The next priority was maternity and NICU since it seemed a people that had come so near extinction had felt a drive to repopulate almost as soon as the first homes had gone up. Though several had arrived pregnant, so the infant room was already busy. Turning into it, she spotted Gunnar standing with a baby held in one long arm while he leaned over trying to tap notes into a terminal with the other.

She shook her head. "Arnason, wouldn't be easier if you sat down?"

A blonde brow arched at her. "No. It's easier without a baby crying."

Walking over, Nancy looked at the little bundle - eyes closed, mouth slack. "Looks like she's pretty well out."

"You think so?" He very gently lowered himself into the seat.

Eyes popped open. "WAHHHHH!!!!"

Gunnar shot to his feet, two steps and the crying stopped, replaced by a little coo. He gave her a 'you see?' look and a wry smile. "This one's going to be a pilot. I swear she was born with a built in altimeter."

"Then you're not doing her parents any favors getting her used to being up at your height," Nancy laughed. But then, seeing a shadow cross his face, her brows drew down. "One of the orphans?"

"Probably." He could hope maybe they'd found another transport, another way off world, but it wasn't likely. As he and T'Ango had seen in many other pick ups outside the home world, people would take in children of friends and neighbors who were too young for Tal'Shiar to note so that some part of a family could be saved. Sometimes that had included nursing mothers. But with so many crew families on the list and just two collection points possible on Romulus that had had them pushed to the limit of capacity... "The mother saw the transport was full, shoved her into my arms and ran."

And now you're a daddy Nancy didn't voice it. Such 'extra' little ones would likely find Romulan families to take them once housing was better squared away, but she'd seen how attached T'Ango was getting to the ones they were helping care for in the meanwhile. "Well, letting her cry it out is not the worst option. Unless you want to be on your feet for the next year," she advised. "But it's up to you. I'm going to make my rounds and then check on progress in lab services."

"I'll be back in Out Patient as soon as she actually falls asleep," he said as she headed away.

-----------

Newly arrived after days of leave, Savin walked into the busy medical centre, NVeid close in his heels. The counselor's eyes narrowed as the barrage of emotions slammed into his mental barriers, he had clearly been unprepared for this. NVeid, being the more experienced telepath seemed less disturbed by said barrage.

Unlike Savin, who was dressed in a Starfleet medical division uniform, the Romulan hybrid surgeon was dressed in what could be perceived as Vulcan style robes. Not because he felt like a Vulcan but simply because he found them comfortable and practical. He reached out and pulled the younger man back just in time upon approaching footsteps around the corner.

Be careful, someone is coming. the pleasant mental voice filtered into the counselor's mind and he smiled in answer, waiting for the individual to pass them. "Excuse me... I am Savin, and I am sent here to help. Who do I approach for directions? My friend here is NVeid tr'Rehu, and he is a surgeon."

The attendant looked over, resisting an urge to quirk an eyebrow at seeing Vulcan robes and a Starfleet uniform, then spotting Gable through one of the gaps in the curtains, decided to let former Starfleet deal with them. "Dr. Gable is our chief of medicine." She nodded toward the dark-skinned woman, and called out, "Dr. Gable! A new surgeon and someone from Starfleet medical are here."

Nancy's head snapped around, and she quickly scrawled something on a padd, handing it off before stepping through the curtain. She'd worked with Romulans long enough to be able to keep reactions off her face, so as she approached them her polite smile showed nothing of the thought Dear Lord, did they think a Starfleet uniform and Vulcan robes would make a good impression here? "Gentleman, welcome. I heard we'd be receiving help for the hospital here. I'm Dr. Nancy Gable, chief of medicine."

"Doctor Savin," the counselor introduced himself a second time, now opting to use his medical title as well, "my colleague, Doctor NVeid tr'Rehu and my aide, Jerant van Rijn. Doctor it would make communication easier for doctor tr'Rehu if you would be open to telepathic communication..."

The Romulan hybrid nodded, quickly entering something on his PADD before turning it to show her. I am no longer able to communicate vocally, due to failed surgery." His expression bore a hint of sadness over the loss.

"He does know sign," Jerant cut in, then nudged the teenage boy forward. "So do I and so does Jarron, if needed."

She frowned at the idea of a botched surgery forcing him to silence. Then realizing how that might come across, quickly switched to a look of sympathy. "I'm sorry, and if we can do anything to correct the surgery or provide prosthetic vocal equipment, we will. But I am open to telepathic communication." Truthfully, she wasn't over fond of it, but that was because she always felt like she had to make extra effort to keep confidential information from rising to mind. Still, she'd worked with telepaths before, and it wasn't as though it was triggering, as it would be for some. "Though you should know the request won't be comfortable for a number of people here. Romulans who grew up in the Empire," which she assumed by the look of them, they had not, "tend be ...quite guarded... about anyone accessing their thoughts."

Relief flooded the surgeon's features as permission was granted. Thank you. Barring an emergency I would never resort to telepathic communication without permission. While I can't avoid reading emotions, I consider it unethical to read someone's thoughts. he smiled uncertainly at her. additional surgery is not something I'm keen on. After having been muted for over half my life due to an incident with a superior, I am grateful for the opportunity of having had my voice for a little while. It made me who I am today. I'm grateful for the offer but I have to decline. The offer alone made him feel grateful and it showed.

Jerant reached out to gently touch his hand, briefly as he knows how averse Romulans were to touch. "And you'll always have us," he said, then turned to the doctor. "I'm a linguist, and while assigned to Savin for interpretation purposes, I'm happy to help anyone with linguistic problems. I even speak and understand Rihanssu." He glanced sideways at Savin, wondering if he was going to keep quiet about his handicap as he usually did until it was necessary to bring up. He knew his best friend loathed special treatment.

Savin in his part seemed to be observing the people around him as if he were studying them. "I do not speak Rihanssu that well," he finally offered, "but I am obviously willing to improve. It is a necessity as it is part of who I am, however as I cannot hear people speak, I am reliant on line of sight as well as a telepath for pronunciation purposes. Written phonetics will also be extremely useful."

I understand and respect your wishes, she thought to Nveid with a precise inclination of her head. However, if you ever want to consult on a neural-controlled voice synthesizer, I know some experts and can refer you.

"Rihannsu is certainly useful," Nancy said, making sure to face Savin. She guessed he was also not interested on implants or surgical solutions, but that wasn't as surprising; she'd known others had had them reversed. Which she could understand; there were times she wished she could shut a barrage of sound off. "I've lived among Romulans long enough that I'm proficient. I'm told I still have a slight accent, but if telepathy can help you improve, you have permission to pick that up from me."

Savin is deaf, not I, Nveid smiled, you are not required to speak telepathically to me. And I understand Rihanssu quite well, I grew up with the Tal shiar. he wasn't proud of that fact and the endured trauma showed in his entire bearing at that moment. if you would show me to your surgical team then I will introduce myself. I'm also an immunologist, should my help with research be desired.

"Sorry. That wasn't clear and I thought it best for discussing a medical issue, given the public area," Nancy said, and motioned for them to follow her to an office affording a bit more privacy than the waiting room, continuing telepathically to avoid any chance of being overheard, And I wouldn't mention any past Tal'Shiar connection around here until people know you a LOT better. There is some serious anger and paranoia, especially after they attacked us during the evacuation and one of ours sacrificed herself to save a transport from their fire. She paused, ushering them into the office and setting privacy controls. "I should also tell you that a human nurse on the surgical team has had 'encounters' with them before. While he's too fair minded to hold it against you, a different group once tortured him and tried to force his mind, so telepathy is ...uncomfortable, to put it mildly."

I'm an outcast for a reason. I was never comfortable with what was required of me. My refusal cost me the lives of my wife and child, as well as my voice and eventually my right eye. It nearly cost me my own life on several occasions too. I am not proud of my service and I have no love lost for them. I won't lie about it to make myself appear better. This time, the pain was clearly visible in his eyes as he looked away in still lingering shame.

Savin, having observed the exchange but unaware of the telepathic communication, which was a private conversation anyway, saw and sensed the shift in emotions to intense guilt and shame. "NVeid," he spoke softly, drawing the older man's attention. "Whatever sparked this shift in feelings, you have long since attoned for them. You are not the man you were back then and your ethics and compassion are sound."

Nveid turned his head slightly and smiled sadly, feeling as if he might never feel true redemption. I am here to help. And I will deny noone the help they need, friend or foe. And I have learned over time that it's best to be honest when directly asked, it serves the bond of trust better than lying or hiding. He said as he turned back to Nancy.

Nancy's initial feeling, which had been borne more out of concern for the man, was that this was a bad time for Qowat Milat radical honesty. But as she thought further, the surgeon might be right. Though not for the reason he gave; she didn't imagine any bonds of trust would be forming in the foreseeable future. Rather it was best because anyone finding out after the fact that a former Tal'Shiar had operated on them was liable to want to tear their insides out looking for bugs, trackers, or control implants. His story and injuries not withstanding, it was going to be a heavy life to convince the majority, given the popular belief that no one left the Tal'Shiar except in a coffin, that he was 'former'. She couldn't even fault them for that. Given even the glimpses she'd seen because of Rogers on how far Sec31 would go, it wasn't a stretch to imagine self-mutilation to sell a cover...

She shook her head. After so many years among Romulans and she was picking up their reflexive paranoia. She knew well enough that for all he seemed to retreat to his vineyard so sulk, Picard's household include a pair of former Tal'Shiar who had refused the order to kill anyone who accepted Starfleet's rescue, and that they provided security both for the refugees living and working there, and had passed valuable insight to the network of smugglers working to rescue more when Starfleet abandoned the mission. And while few had so publicly opposed orders, T'Ango swore at least one had deliberately shot wide to miss a fleeing family.

But there was no point in trying to argue on their behalf, and every reason not to; Romulan trust was hard-won and she couldn't afford to damage what she'd established. Which unfortunately meant that she also had to tell patients who he was. And that meant Savin and the linguist would be equally shunned and viewed with suspicion. She found herself angry at the damage to the medical mission, and if he was sincere as he came off, to Nveid who would be in the position of having salt rubbed in raw emotional wounds every day here. Whatever idiot had decided to send them, better hope she never found out who they were.

"Forgive me, but convincing people here that his ethics, and yours by association, are sound will be the issue," she replied with a heavy sigh. "I'll agree that honesty is best policy, but primarily because after what most of our colonists have been through, someone finding out after the fact that their surgeon had Tal'Shiar ties might go so far as to kill themselves rather then risk endangering kin by whatever stealth device they imagine might have been implanted in them." She looked at Nveid sadly. "If you were Tal'Shiar and raised in the Empire, you know this is true - their hold on people came as much through terror as force and much of that was fed by stories of that made their abilities out as almost paranormal. It's going to take a lot to get past that."

NVeid nodded slowly. it has been nearly a decade since I fled the empire. Barring abduction and torture of myself I've not dealt with my former employer. I've done my best to distance myself from their practice and have been serving Starfleet as a civilian surgeon since my rescue.

"I grew up on Vulcan," Savin explained, "I did not learn of my genetics until a few years ago. Since then I have been trying to learn more. My parents never told me about the circumstances of my birth and the information they have provided since my discovery has been scarce. They do not wish to speak about it." He shrugged. "I respect their wishes though they do support me in my choice to embrace my heritage. My brother in the other hand, does not. He has embraced the path of Surak." He still remained close to NVeid. "I have worked with Doctor tr'Rehu for several years now and I will vouch for his integrity."

And who will vouch for yours? Nancy didn't say it. In fact, she tried not to think it too loudly. But the immediate thought was there. There were places in the galaxy where a Starfleet uniform said 'Trust me'. But a colony full of refugees from the RSE? Not so much. Truthfully, while she and the other former Starfleet officers who'd resigned following Picard, had friends and comrades still in the service that they'd trust implicitly, for Starfleet as an organization the reaction was also 'not so much'.

"Look, I'm not asking you to prove yourselves to me. I'm just trying to be honest with you about the reactions you're likely to get from the people here. And that is suspicion, avoidance; you may even feel shunned." It gave her no pleasure to say it, but she was not one for candy-coating or 'everything will work out in the end'. She'd seen far too many terrible endings for that. "Don't expect the benefit of a doubt. Don't expect that Starfleet uniform to buy you any good will. Starfleet abandoned the effort to save these people. There were individuals on the inside who helped us, but as an organization it actively tried to interdict and punish those who stepped up in the aftermath to smuggle refugees out. On top of that, most with Galae service consider Starfleet security and vetting to be lax; they will not trust that an association with Starfleet clears you of being a plant."

"Your honesty is appreciated doctor," Savin answered, "and if it helps, I will not wear a uniform within the colony. And I will not lie about my rearing. I did grow up on Vulcan, and I did not know my heritage until it was discovered by accident. I have never denied my origin of birth since and have worked towards embracing it. Trust is earned, not given."

[I know all about being shunned.] NVeid sighed soundlessly. [Even in service I was never wanted, never treated as equal because I am a telepath. I was fortunate that they never learned I am a hybrid, of I would never have survived.] He shrugged. [I am here to help and as Savin said, trust is earned.]

"I'm not asking you to lie; just brace yourself for every Romulan you meet to assume you're lying," she explained unhappily. There was some chance that once people believed that he'd actually been born deaf, they might believe his parents had fled to Vulcan, as disability wasn't tolerated in the Empire and such children were typically disposed of. Best scenario there lay with the medical staff, particularly the less paranoid ones. She briefly debated comm-ing Arnason, but if that baby was just nodding off (or if he'd finally sat down and had nodded off himself with a sleeping baby on his chest) she didn't want to disturb them. "For now, I suppose I should show you around and introduce you to the staff."

"We appreciate your effort," Savin offered gratefully, "please, introduce us to your staff so that we may get acquainted. And please send me a list of people that require my services. I will carefully approach them and leave it up to them if they wish to speak with me, or where."

Everyone on this colony had been through enough trauma to warrant a small army of counselors, but chances of any of them voluntarily speaking to one? Even if Savin had been born and bred on Romulus, and escaped with the rest, she still put the chances at slim that any Romulan would talk to a stranger about their trauma. There might be a few non-Romulans who'd be willing though. "I'll pass some names along," she replied, and lead them out of the office and into the clinic.

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