Matters of Honour

Posted on Fri Aug 21st, 2026 @ 6:42pm by Captain Freya Mannerheim & Nveid tr'Rehu

2,664 words; about a 13 minute read

Mission: Intermission: Safe Haven
Location: Captain Mannerheim's Home
Timeline: Late September, 2387

It was maddening. Every time Freya thought she had filed the last bit of paperwork needed to get some weapons for the militia from decommissioned Federation surplus, three new forms appeared. And all that, for a dozen phaser pistols and half as many rifles. To be exact, pistols and rifles that were barely still current standard when the U.S.S. Enterprise-C was commissioned. The Captain wasn't sure which was more incomprehensible, the fact that the Federation even still had them, or the fact that they made it so extremely difficult to acquire them. Hells, without Captain Targaryen putting in a good word with the authorities, it would have been almost impossible - not that the sheer amount of bureaucracy made it in any way easy.

With a frustrated groan, she threw the PADD she was working on onto one of the other armchairs and got up to get herself a cup of tea. Paperwork could wait for a few hours.

While Jarron had insisted on getting his medical over with on his own, NVeid had walked over to the captain's local residence to make his official acquaintance with her. He reached up to press the chime, then took a small step back to create a respectable distance between himself and whoever would open the door.

A moment later, the door slid open. Captain Mannerheim took one look at the man outside, and nodded. "Doctor Nveid tr'Rehu, I presume. Please come in." She stepped aside to allow Nveid to enter, then directed him to the armchairs in the corner of the living area. "Do take a seat. Now, I am aware that you are unable to speak out loud. I am close to fluent in sign, so if you wish to communicate that way, please do. Otherwise, of course, you can use your PADD. Your choice."

[Sign is more effective.] He answered, his expression betraying his relief as he took a seat. [I was directed here by Doctor Gable though I had already intended to visit you and introduce myself. I hope there's no inconvenience?]

Freya nodded. "Very well, sign it is." She paused, studying the Romulan-Betazoid hybrid sat in front of her. So far, he appeared to be genuine. Nevertheless, she had made sure to sit within arm's reach of the katana on the shelf behind her, just in case. "I have been informed by Doctor Gable about what happened at the clinic between you and Hatham, and the general concerns regarding your past," she began, trying to keep her tone as diplomatic as possible. "In light of your past affiliation and the concerns raised by some members of the community at large, it has been decided that you will be restricted to research and analysis roles for the time being, in order to minimise any patient contact. Once Ourainavassa returns, you will be part of the medical staff on board the ship. Do you understand?"

Though visibly disappointed at this verdict, he could understand it so he slightly inclined his head in agreement. [I understand.] He responded, somewhat relieved he was at least allowed to do something. [How long until I will be allowed to assist the medical staff as either doctor or surgeon?] As long as it wouldn't take forever he'd take the opportunity he was given.

"I have no say in the operation of the medical centre here on Haven," Freya explained calmly, relieved that Nveid had taken the news somewhat well. "That is for Doctor Gable to decide, as well as the settlement council. However, you are officially an exchange officer with Ourainavassa, and thus under my command and responsibility. During off-planet operations, you will serve as a surgeon in the medical department. Provided, that is, we find a solution for the issue of communication. I understand and respect your choice not to have your voice restored through medical intervention. However, fast communication is of critical importance in any medical setting, but even more so should we find ourselves in combat. As you will have been made aware, telepathic communication is not an option, nor is having you be accompanied by an interpreter."

NVeid didn't respond for several seconds and his features seemed a fraction paler when he finally looked at her again. [I'm afraid.] He finally admitted. [After so long of being denied a voice, a proper treatment, there was a solution. I grasped at it with both hands and my voice was returned. Just when I was speaking properly again, it failed on me. I am terrified it will happen again, especially as I don't know why it failed.] He drew in a shuddering breath. [I understand the issue, both of communication and telepathy and I have given my word not to unit unless it's a last resort. I gave my word, and keeping it is very important to me. But I am terrified it'll fail again... If it allows me to be what I'm trained for and where my passion is, then I'll do what I need to. But my fear must be understood.]

Instead of saying anything, Freya balled her hand into a fist and knocked it against her left lower leg. "Hear that? Below the knee, it's metal. I was fifteen years old when I lost my parents, my older brother, and my leg. The surgeon who implanted the prosthetic was not the most capable man. Well, it was the Terran Empire, pain management during surgery most certainly was not a priority. When I crossed over into this universe, the Federation wanted to remove it and give me a more modern one. I refused. The prosthetic was only replaced when the original was damaged beyond repair. And because the ship I was on at the time was in the middle of nowhere, it took two weeks to get me a new leg. At that point, I'd had it for a decade. Losing my leg the second time was almost worse than the first time."

She shook her head. "What I'm trying to say with that is that I understand your concern. Our Chief Science Officer has a few ideas on how to use your telepathic abilities to control a vocaliser. But you'll need to discuss that with her once she arrives."

Hope flared in the hybrid's eyes, but the fear remained. [I will.] He promised, his expression turning to empathy. [How did you deal with the loss? Do you fear losing it again?] He gestured at his right eye, inviting her to take a closer look. [My eye is cybernetic. It allows me to see as normal but outside influences such as the environment can cause it to go out of alignment. I allow for frequent maintenance so it should not, but it has caught me unawares. Would you believe that the circumstance of losing it, the memory of it is worse than when I lost my voice? The cause for losing my voice at least was a good one...]

Freya shrugged. "The issue wasn't the destruction of my old prosthetic, it was how long it took to get a replacement. Luckily, we were able to acquire a large library of schematics for all sorts of artificial body parts, easily customised to the wearer and then assembled from replicated components. I'm sure our medical staff would be happy to see if it's possible to replace your cybernetic eye with a more reliable model."

She sighed, glancing at the photo of her, her sister, and her grandfather on the shelf, taken at her graduation from the Imperial Academy. "Look. I have gone through plenty of trauma in my life. I have seen things inflicted on people, hells, I've even done some of it myself. So you know that what I am about to say comes from personal experience. These memories, these nightmares, they are horrible. And they will be with us for the rest of our lives, no matter how much therapy tries to change that. We are not defined by the actions and experience of our past, but by the way we let our past affect our present, and our future. We are making inquiries to determine the nature and extent of the background checks Starfleet performed before allowing you to serve. Based on the findings of those inquiries, we may have to do our own checks. The safety of my crew and of this colony are paramount."

[I don't need it replaced.] The answer was firm on that part. He looked horrified at her revelation of having inflicted injuries herself but then wondered how different that was to what he'd been subjected to in terms of orders and one's own survival as a consequence. He nodded in agreement to her second statement, confident that Starfleet would confirm his dedication to the medical field. [I understand.] He replied quietly. [As I have declared before, I am willing answer any inquiry necessary, no matter how painful to me, to prove my dedication. As well as allowing any supervision necessary. I had hoped my service in Starfleet for nearly a decade would be enough but if it isn't..] He shrugged even though it was clear he distrust did hurt him. [As I said, whatever it takes to prove myself, I will do it.]

"The offer for a replacement eye is there, should it be necessary." The Captain leaned forward slightly. "I understand, and both Starfleet and former Captain Targaryen have given their word in support. However, I am sure you know how little Starfleet's word is worth to the people here, after the way the Federation abandoned them. Especially when it comes to someone who claims to be former Tal Shiar. Whether I believe that you have left them behind or not does not matter. Whether Doctor Gable does, well, it does not matter much more. No, the refugees need to be told by one of their own. And for that to happen, we need more to go off than 'served in Starfleet for a decade and caused no problems'."

She stood. "That being said, I believe that you are a man of honour. That you would not intentionally mislead others in order to cause them harm." Slowly, she strolled over to the bookshelf and picked up the katana. "However," she continued, drawing the sword and casually twirling it in her hand, the light from the window glinting off the meticulously polished blade. "If you do anything to bring harm upon this community, whether it be intentional or not, I will make sure that you will not get the opportunity to repeat that mistake. Do I make myself clear?"

[My honour is all I have.] The hybrid's expression was tight as he signed, colour draining from his face as she picked up her weapon. [I understand.] He answered for the umpteenth time. Slowly, he pulled out his own Honour Blade and showed it to her. [I would rather die, than consciously cause harm to anyone.]

Freya solemny nodded, and sheathed her sword. "Then we have an understanding. You are a member of my crew, Doctor. I hold those under my command to high standards of conduct. Those who fail to conduct themselves as expected will feel the consequences. However, provided you meet expectations, I will stand by your side, much as I demand you stand by your fellow crewmates. Be it triumph or tragedy, we will meet it together."

She sat back down, now smiling. "I know how difficult it is to gain trust. I have had to do the same over the last few months, coming in as an outsider, then taking over command in a less-than-ideal way. I am sure that there will be many that still do not trust me fully. But I can only do my best to not disappoint those who have placed trust in me. And I am certain you will do the same. If there is something I can do to help, please, ask. The moment you set foot on this planet, you ceased to be a member of Starfleet, as far as I am concerned. You are a medical officer on my crew, my ship. That means you have, to a point, my trust. It is up to you to keep it that way."

[I never was officially Starfleet, I have always been a civilian serving on a starship. A temporary provisional rank was all I was given when I had to temporarily take over as chief medical officer.] He put his own blade safely back into its sheath. [I will not disappoint you.] He vowed, his expression serious. [This is my home now, your crew my responsibility in medical matters. If there is anything they need, all they have to do is ask and I will do the best I can to help.] It's what he has always tried to do, no matter the circumstances. [If anything does come up, you'll be the first to know.] He promised solemnly.

"That is all I ask," Freya replied warmly. "Apart from this matter, are there any issues you wish to address? Regarding your accommodation, things like that?"

[Our accommodation is sufficient for just Jarron and myself. We don't need much, though I do need to discuss his education with someone. Especially instructions in behaviour towards Romulan culture and language. Since I've lived outside of Romulan society for the majority of my life I'm very unfamiliar with it too beyond the language.] The warmth is her voice didn't go unnoticed and it was almost overwhelming to him. [I have offered to help with the education of the younglings too but we'll see when that will be accepted.]

"Schooling is on the to-do list for the council, but we need to address some other issues first. Most importantly, we need to reduce our dependence on food imports, as well as improve our defensive capabilities. I would be happy to inform the Treasurer that you would like to discuss the matter. Of course, whether she would be willing to engage in that discussion is a different matter." Freya sighed. "You mustn't forget that we are building this place from nothing. Less than nothing, if you listen to the thoughts of some of the Romulans. Now, as far as I'm concerned, that was all we needed to discuss. Should something come up, my door is always open."

She chuckled. "Well, in the metaphorical sense. It would be foolish to leave one's door unlocked in a Romulan town."

[I don't understand...] He hesitated. [What has the treasurer to do with education? As for dependence, I don't know if we have replicators but perhaps farming equipment and environmental controls could be replicated or devised? Surely, there's land here suitable for irrigation or agriculture?] It wasn't his area of expertise, but he could help with researching the possibility of sustainable crops.

"Ah, my apologies for the confusion. Vareth's official title is treasurer, but, in reality, she serves as the leader of the settlement. Not that she's a fan of the expanded responsibilities. As for the matter food, we only have limited access to replicators, and the Romulans generally are not particularly fond of using them for food to begin with. When Ourainavassa returns, she will bring what amounts to a starter kit for farming, that is, seeds, fertilisers and schematics for tools that we can then easily replicate. So it's being handled, but it takes some time. I thank you for the offer of assistance, though, and will relay that to the council as well."

[I'm here to help. It's all I can do to offer.] The answer was simple. [I've taken up enough of your time, I need to get to work and see to my son.]

Freya nodded. "It has been a pleasure to meet you, Doctor, and I am sure I will see you again soon. Do give my regards to your son as well, hopefully I will get to meet him soon, too."

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