The Trip Home [Part 2]

Posted on Wed Feb 26th, 2025 @ 5:48pm by Lieutenant Adrianna Baciami

2,933 words; about a 15 minute read

Mission: Stars Around the Well
Timeline: Past

When the Solaris docked at Earth’s orbiting station, the children were escorted off the ship under the watchful eyes of Starfleet personnel. Adrianna hung back, watching from a distance as the small group was led away. In her head, she was doing a mental headcount, to ensure they were all there.

Commander Sha’ar approached her, arms crossed, “Not going with them, Reggimi?”

Adrianna shook her head, “they’re in good hands, I trust.”

“Most caregivers would see this through to the end,” the commander warned suspiciously, “I don't believe for one second that you are their caregiver, Miss Reggimi.”

Adrianna raised a brow and looked over, an amused look on her face, “you fail to understand that my job here is done. The children are safe in the hands of the Federation. What could I do better for them? They will have the opportunity to live in a safe world; they will have the opportunity to be loved as any child should be; they will have the opportunity to make mistakes and live without the consequences that come with being outside of the Federation.”

Adrianna paused and looked back out to the children, “a good caregiver knows their limitations. I certainly know mine and that's why I am happy to take a step back and allow these children to be taken into the care of the Federation.”

“You don't seem sad about it,” the commander noted in a way that almost sounded like a warning shot.

“You think you know what I feel, commander,” Adrianna looked back at the commander. The woman neither looked offended nor angered at the subtle interrogation, “are you once again trying to accuse me of something that you have no proof of? May I remind you that the belief is that I am innocent until proven guilty.”

There was a short silence of frustration from Sha’ar. “I know that there's something not right here,” she lowered her voice to a growl, “I don't know what you said to the captain, but I will not be easily persuaded into whatever fiction you have woven. Those children are innocent and you are not as innocent as you make out. I think you were smuggling children.”

Adrianna snorted, “Madonna, you're stupid.”

“Excuse me?”

“Think it through, piccola,” Adrianna chuckled, shaking her head with amusement, “if I was smuggling children, I would not get paid for this run. That would either make me a charity or an idiot, because I not only called StarFleet instead of local bases for help, but I willingly came to Earth to see this through. Now, if I was a smuggler, I would be pretty nervous about all of this. Even the strongest of characters would have shown signs of being nervous, worried about being tried for smuggling or trafficking charges. The punishment for which is up to ten years for every child, up to fifty years, I believe. Not to mention, murder charges, which is life imprisonment.”

The commander scowled, “psychopaths know how to fake it, Reggimi.”

“You think I'm a psychopath?”

“I think you're lying to us,” Sha’ar corrected.

“Then let me tell you some truths that even you cannot deny,” Adrianna's smile faded and dropped into something serious and cold, “your captain is going to come out and say something that you will find cryptic. It will eat you alive to know that your captain is hiding something from you. You'll be angry for a time. You may even request a transfer. But, in about an hour, I will vanish. You'll go through your CCTV, you may even be persistent enough to dust the guest quarters you put me up in for prints, but you will not find me– no trace at all. I will fade into being a ghost in your memory– you will obsess over it. It will keep you awake all night, every night. But maybe– just maybe– you will one day understand that my role in all of this is nothing more than an overseer of good deeds. We'll no doubt meet again, and when we do, I hope that it is under better circumstances because, believe it or not, I believe we are very much alike and we would be good friends in another life.”

Adrianna paused, her eyes looking past the commander to the captain who had made an appearance, giving Adrianna a small, almost imperceptible nod. “Everything discussed is all sorted for you, Miss Reggimi,” he said simply, “I wish you well.”

“Thank you, Capitano,” Adrianna replied. She glanced at Sha’ar, her smile faint, “I'm sure that Starfleet will take care of the children for me– and give them all the opportunities in the known worlds. Thank you again for your hospitality.”

Without waiting for a reply, she grinned to Sha'ar and then turned and walked away, disappearing down the corridor.

***

It wasn’t until the children were safely delivered to the authorities on Earth that Sha’ar realised Adrianna was gone as per her prophecy. She found Reyes in his ready room, staring out at the planet below. “She’s gone,” Sha’ar said, her frustration clear, “Vanished as if she was never here. Who was she, captain?”

Reyes didn’t turn around, his gaze fixed on the stars, “someone doing a job none of us would want to do.”

“That’s not an answer, Captain,” Sha’ar pressed, “it is clear that she lied to us, evaded questions, and now she’s disappeared. Don't you think that she needed to be investigated further?”

Reyes finally turned to face her, his expression calm but resolute, “some fights aren’t ours to take on, Commander. Let it go.”

Sha’ar opened her mouth to argue but stopped when she saw the look in his eyes. With a reluctant nod, she turned and left, leaving Reyes alone in the quiet of his ready room. He turned back to the viewport, watching the blue-green glow of Earth.

Whatever Adrianna Baciami’s next move was, he doubted anyone would know until it was already done.

*Meanwhile*

The Pendragon’s corridors hummed with quiet activity, but the tension aboard the ship was anything but quiet. Lutz stood in Vance’s doorway, arms crossed, his frustration barely contained. He’d come to confront Vance, but the weight of the captain’s unrelenting obsession with Adrianna already hung heavy in the air.

“Vance,” Lutz began, his voice low but firm, “we need to talk. The crew’s getting restless. They’re used to the big jobs, the big payouts, and instead, we’re scraping by on courier runs. They’re saying things, Cap. Things about Adrianna. That she’s not coming back, that Starfleet’s locked her up for smuggling those kids, or worse. They’re wondering why we’re still waiting for her when–”

“She will come back,” Vance interrupted sharply, his eyes darkening as he looked up from the desk. His hands gripped a small silver chain– Adrianna’s half of their necklace. She had left it behind as she didn’t want anything linking her to the Pendragon or him. If Starfleet put two and two together, she would certainly be arrested for aiding and abetting. Vance seemed to growl, “I don’t care what the crew thinks. I don’t care what you think. She’s out there, and she’s coming back. I am the captain of this crew, and what I say goes.”

Lutz exhaled heavily, running a hand through his hair, “you don’t know that. And in the meantime, this ship is falling apart. The crew’s starting to resent you. They’re talking about mutiny, Vance. They think you’ve lost it. And honestly? I can’t blame them. You’re keeping her quarters untouched like she’s going to walk through that door any second. You’re acting like–”

“I know she’s coming back,” Vance snapped, standing abruptly, his chair almost toppling, “do you know why? Because this was her idea; because she sacrificed everything to make sure this ship and this crew got away safely. She stayed behind so that we wouldn’t be the ones arrested. She put herself at risk for every single person on this ship even though she is hardly the most well liked person. And now you’re telling me they’re impatient? That they want to throw her things into storage, pretend she never existed, hire some stranger to take her place that may or may not be able to negotiate and translate as well as her? Are you out of your mind, Lutz?”

Lutz took a step back, surprised by the intensity of Vance’s anger, “I’m just trying to keep the ship running, Vance. The crew needs a translator. They need stability. Hell, they’re saying we should just–”

Vance’s hand slammed down on the desk, silencing Lutz mid-sentence. “The crew,” he said, his voice cold and sharp, “needs to remember who kept them alive– who stood in the line of fire for them without hesitation; and who is the reason this ship has never been so lucrative; and why they can roll around in credits. Adrianna didn’t just leave– she made a plan– a choice. A choice to save each and every one of us from being incarcerated or worse. And you’re telling me they’re tired of waiting after less than a month? That they’re ready to move on in a matter of weeks? That’s not just disrespectful– it’s disgusting.”

As the words left his mouth, Vance heard the faint sound of murmurs outside his quarters. His jaw tightened as he stepped past Lutz, throwing the door open to reveal a small crowd of crew members lingering in the corridor.

“You’re all listening, aren’t you?” Vance said, his voice echoing down the hall without mercy. The crew froze, guilt written on their faces, but Vance pressed on, his voice rising with passion. “Good because I want you all to hear this. It wasn’t just about saving those kids! Adrianna Reggimi gave up her freedom– maybe even her life– to make sure you’re all standing here right now! Every single one of you owes her. And, instead of being grateful– instead of remembering what she did, you’re impatient because you’re having to count your credits for the first time in almost a year? You’re complaining because the jobs aren’t as big, the payouts aren’t as fat?” He laughed bitterly, shaking his head, “you are rich because of her– because of how she operates.”

“She is out there,” he continued, his voice thick with emotion, “I don’t care what Starfleet thinks– I don’t care what any of you think. Adrianna is alive, and she’s coming back. And when she does, I want this ship to be ready to not only welcome her home, but to also worship the very ground she walks on because she secured your freedom without question.”

He suddenly pointed to an airlock and lowered his voice to a dangerous and murderous tone, “if any of you have a problem with that, there’s the airlock. Take your complaints and get off my ship.”

The silence was deafening. The crew exchanged uneasy glances, the weight of Vance’s words sinking in. Lutz looked at him, his expression unreadable, but he didn’t say another word. After a long pause, one of the younger crew members muttered, “Sorry, Captain,” and the others slowly dispersed, leaving Vance and Lutz alone.

Lutz sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “Vance, I wasn’t trying to undermine her or what she did. I just... I just want the ship to hold together until she does come back.”

Vance’s shoulders sagged slightly, though his grip on Adrianna’s necklace never loosened, “I cannot give up on her, Lutz. Not this easily. It has been twenty seven days. From where we left her, that’s maybe a seven day trip back to Earth. Earth to Freecloud would be at least another fourteen, if she can secure transport. We also have to factor in that she would have a lot of explaining to do. She’s got a silver tongue, but that doesn’t mean she’ll have to jump through hoops. Add an extra seven days for that, alone.”

“I know that you love her, Vance,” Lutz began, “but–”

“This isn’t just mere ‘love’. Adrianna has given me hope for a future that I didn’t think was possible. She sees the best in all of us– in me, even though we don’t deserve it. She is the reason that I get up in the morning, the reason I fight to even keep this damn place together, she is the reason that this ship feels like my home again. I’ve not felt that since my sister died. You know that.”

He paused and sighed, “I would tear this galaxy apart if she was missing; I would attempt to bring StarFleet to its knees if they tried to keep her from me. I would walk through hell if it meant that I could have her back here.”

He shook his head in disbelief at how open her was being with Lutz about all of this, “Lutz, I would die for that woman– and never once would I regret it. I don’t just love her– I need her– I want her. She is my absolute everything and she has helped put me back together after such heartache and hardship. I cannot, in good faith, just give up on a woman like that.”

Lutz lingered in the doorway, crossing his arms as he studied Vance. The captain was still gripping Adrianna’s necklace like it was a lifeline, his shoulders tense with barely restrained emotion. Lutz’s voice was firmer this time, his usual easygoing tone replaced by something more insistent. “Vance, listen to me,” Lutz said, stepping fully into the room, “If– and that’s if– Adrianna comes back, you need to take her on a few solo runs. Just you and her.”

Vance’s head snapped up, his eyes narrowing, “What the hell are you talking about?”

“I’m talking about making sure she’s everything you think she is,” Lutz pressed, his tone sharp. He couldn't tell Vance outright about what he knew in case Adrianna did return, and in doing so outed his out transgressions, “you’ve put this entire crew on hold for her. You’ve risked mutiny, hell, you’ve risked everything because you can’t let her go. And maybe you’re right– maybe she’s worth it, but if she’s not–”

“She is,” Vance growled, rising from his chair once more.

Lutz didn’t back down, “then prove it. Take her out on a few solo runs when she gets back. No crew, no distractions. Just you and her. Make sure she’s really the person you’ve been fighting for.”

Vance’s jaw tightened, his anger flaring, “you’re out of line, Lutz.”

“No, I’m not,” Lutz shot back, stepping closer, “I’ve been with you through everything, Vance. I watched you fall apart after your sister. I’ve picked up the pieces every damn time something went wrong before and after that, but if this thing with Adrianna doesn’t work out– if she’s not who you think she is– I’m not doing it again. I won’t pick up the pieces this time. Neither will the crew.”

Vance’s fists clenched, his entire body radiating tension, “you don’t know what you’re talking about. Adrianna is–”

“I know exactly what I’m talking about,” Lutz interrupted, his voice cutting through the room, “You’re so in love with this woman that you can’t see straight. And that’s fine if it's real. But you owe it to yourself– and to this crew– to make sure she’s worth all of this.”

Lutz paused and took a breath, softening a little, “you think I like saying this? You think I enjoy watching you fall apart over someone who’s not even here? I’m your friend, Vance. That– that’s why I’m saying it.”

The words hung in the air, heavy and unrelenting. Vance’s anger simmered, but as much as he hated to admit it, Lutz wasn’t wrong.

Finally, Vance let out a slow breath, the tension in his shoulders easing just slightly. “Fine,” he said, his voice low and gravelly, “When– When she gets back, I’ll take her out on a few solo runs. Just me and her.”

Lutz raised an eyebrow, clearly surprised by the sudden agreement.

“And maybe,” Vance added, a faint, defiant smirk tugging at his lips, “I’ll marry her on one of them and knock her up. Would that shut you and the crew up?”

Lutz blinked, his stern expression breaking into an incredulous laugh, “if there is a god out there– may they help you. You are a moron, you know that?”

“Yeah,” Vance said, sitting back down and gripping the necklace again, “but you’re still here.”

“For now,” Lutz muttered, turning to leave, “Look, I won't take pleasure in saying that I told you so. I'm rooting for you. But– just don’t make me say I told you so if this goes south.”

Vance didn’t reply, but his grip on Adrianna’s necklace tightened, his thoughts already miles away.

 

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