Infirmary – 10:05 hrs

“Hold still!” Conrad barked as he poked around inside the Ensign’s nose. He was searching for the source of the bleed, but was struggling to see through the deluge of blood pouring out, like water from a tap. Suddenly, his probe found its mark, and with a flick of his wrist, he cauterised the bleed, and almost immediately, the flow of red fluid from the Ensign’s nostril subsided to a gentle trickle.

“There, got it!” Conrad said with a sense of pride in his capabilities as a physician.
Ensign Munroe accepted a wad of gauze from the nurse and began cleaning himself up. He looked exactly like he’d picked a fight with a countertop and lost.
“You have a slight fracture to the Maxilla, sit tight while we get that fixed before you go back to work,” Conrad said, running his Tricorder around the Ensign’s face.

Behind him, the unmistakable sound of the Infirmary doors opening caught his attention. He glanced over his shoulder and saw the Captain and First Officer stroll in; they were eager to finally get some relevant information from their Azurak guests. “Nurse, would you take over?” He excused himself and made his way over to them.

“What happened there?” Wallace asked curiously.

Conrad rolled his eyes in a show of discontent, “Ensign Munroe, he has to be hands down the clumsiest officer in all of Starfleet… Last week it was racquetball. This week, tripping over a stool into a countertop”

“You said the Azurak were awake?” Alex said, grounding the conversation back to the matter at hand.

“Right this way, I had them transferred out of the ICU because they’re stable, but I’d still like to monitor them for a few days before discharging them.” Conrad escorted his commanding officers to the recovery wing next door. It was a room filled almost exclusively with Bio-beds and a few other pieces of equipment to manage prolonged patient care.

As the trio approached the only two occupied beds, Alex felt a slight spring in his step as he was about to be able to get the answers he needed. “Morning, I’m Captain Dubois. This is my First Officer, Commander Jones. You’re both aboard the Federation Starship Fairfax,” he made his introductions. More of a formality, as he was certain Dr. Harper would have explained some of the events that had recently transpired.

“Emisier Jolot, second in command. And my colleague, Trevelane Lo’th: Ship’s mechanic. We’re truly grateful for your assistance, Captain,” one of the Azurak patients said. He was previously the more critically injured of the pair.

Alex didn’t need to be able to read a Bio-monitor to tell that the man was still very sick; the strain in his voice and the labour of his breathing spoke volumes to that.
“We’re taking you and your ship to one of our starbases, where you’ll be safe until we can contact your people. I wonder if you’re up to telling me what happened?”

“We’re a nomadic, peaceful people, Captain. We made no provocation when the Nausicaan’s opened fire. Our ships aren’t designed for combat; they collapsed our shields with their first volley. Before we had a chance to react, they were beaming into the cargo hold. Looking for something.” Emisier let out a loud and forceful cough, dry and raspy.

“We weren’t carrying anything of value, just some self-sealing stem bolts we picked up last week…” Trevelane added, giving his colleague a moment to catch his breath.

“When they couldn’t find what they were looking for, they started executing my crew. Demanding that we give them something in particular,” Said Emisier, having cleared the irritation on his chest.

“Did you work out what they were after?” asked Wallace, attempting to satisfy his own curiosity.

“It made no sense, but I think they were after our Hej’ogt… It’s a small serpentine statue, carved from a volcanic glass; it has no value to anyone beyond our people. It is simply a spiritual artefact.” Emisier explained.

“I believe we recovered your Hej’ogt when we rescued you. We’re keeping it safe, but rest assured, it will be returned to you when you leave.” Alex explained diplomatically. His quest for answers had pushed him to make some decisions in advance of having his guests’ blessing, but he meant no disrespect.

“They never found it! You honour us, Captain. We can’t thank you enough for respecting our customs!” Before Emisier could speak any further, the conversation was abruptly interrupted by one of the nurses stepping into the room. Her uniform was splattered with tiny droplets of blood. “Doctor Harper, Munroe’s nose is bleeding again; we need you!”

Conrad signed and rolled his eyes again, “My apologies, gentlemen, duty calls.” He made his way over to the door, not with any hurried pace but more a gentle swagger. I swear, if I have to fix this guy’s nose one more time… he thought to himself, contemplating how far he could be pushed before his Hippocratic oath might be in jeopardy of being broken.

With the brief distraction concluded, Alex pushed for further information. “Was there anything unusual or different about your Hej’ogt in particular?”

“Each one is unique. We believe they guide and protect a ship and its crew on long voyages. It’s a rite of passage for any new Captain to create his own by listening to the will of the universe,” Emisier explained.

Alex grew more curious. There had to be something unusual about this one. “How exactly does one create the Hej’ogt?” he asked.

“When the former Captain passes, his Hej’ogt is retired but displayed proudly in the shrine. His successor meditates for at least a week during a period of mourning. If he is worthy to lead the crew, the universe will grant him a vision of his Hej’ogt and where to find it.” Emisier adjusted himself in his bed. His sores caused him some discomfort. “We then pilgrimage, guided by the song of the cosmos. Eventually, the Hej’ogt will reveal itself to a worthy Captain. He must then carve its shape, given to him in a vision.”

So the Azurak carve their idol based on spiritual guidance, Alex thought to himself, admittedly fascinated by the deeply spiritual concept. “Did your Captain’s Hej’ogt ever seem unusual, compared to others?”

“I’m sorry, Captain, I’m not sure I understand. Each one is completely different in many ways…” Emisier responded, unable to grasp the meaning of the line of questioning.

“What about other Captains, have they ever come across a particularly rare or powerful Hej’ogt?” Alex rephrased his query.

“Yes! The universe sometimes bestows extremely powerful visions to the holder of some Hej’ogt. Our Captain was blessed himself. He often described being almost able to see his ancestors, almost as clearly as I see you now. They spoke to him, guiding us to the will of the universe!”

“Did he ever describe his ancestors, as he saw them?” Alex enquired.

“Only once. Ghostly apparitions, sustained by light from the universe.” Emisier explained, a look of peace and tranquillity washing over him, clearly comforted by his belief in a greater existence.

“We have reason to believe the Nausicans might be targeting more of your people, but we can’t locate any of your ships to warn them. Could you help us with that?” said Alex.

Trevelane stepped in,“ We pride ourselves on our seclusion, Captain. It is the will of the universe that we leave no trace.” Understandably concerned about the idea of revealing their secrets.

“Please, I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t believe it was Important. And you have my word, we will do everything necessary to protect the sanctity of your seclusion,” Alex pleaded. Though the reason for it was unclear; he was confident the Nausicaans were hunting the Azurak. They were completely vulnerable.

“Perhaps it is the will of the universe that we accept his help, Trevelane. It would not deliver us into their salvation, heal us, then betray us so easily!” Emisier spoke. He knew his place as likely being the next leader of his clan, and he had been preparing to listen to the will of the universe his whole life. He considered this his first test of faith.

“I can show you our most common pilgrimage paths, and Trevelane can help you adapt your scanners to detect our ships. I trust you, Captain, the universe will guide you to deliver us from this threat!”

“Thank you, Emisier, you honour me with your trust. We’ll leave you to rest. I’ll send my Chief Engineer to speak with you soon.” Alex bowed his head as a sign of respect. He had no idea what local customs the Azurak followed to show gratitude, but somehow it seemed only decent to extend the courtesy.

Alex and Wallace made their way back out into the corridor, leaving their guests in peace. The conversation hadn’t particularly answered any of their burning questions, but it had explained one mystery in particular. The Nausicaans were indeed targeting the Azurak, but for reasons unknown.

“Ghostly apparitions, could it be some sort of lifeform serving as their god? There are a few usual suspects, the Q, the Metrons…” Wallace suggested, trying to piece together the puzzle.

“Impossible to know for sure, but I’m not buying he idea of the Q being involved in this one. They’ve always played the universal tricksters, not the saviour and guiding light for an entire people. As for the Metrons, well, Kirk never encountered them again, nor has anyone else, for that matter.” Alex pondered, his thoughts constantly being drawn back to the significance of the Hej’ogt. “Has Sovek made any progress with his analysis?”

“Nothing beyond the unusual readings he picked up on the freighter. It could just be a coincidence… It might help speed things up if he didn’t have an Ensign who was constantly bumping into things,” Wallace joked. He felt a little sorry for Munroe, remembering how overwhelming being so young in service was for him when he first joined.

“You’ve got a point. See if he needs any help, and ask T’Lira to discuss alterations to our sensors with the Azurak when she gets a minute.” Alex asked.

“T’Lira to Captain Dubois.”

The comm system burst into life. “Speak of the devil…” Wallace quipped.

“Go ahead,” Alex responded inquisitively.

“Captain, I need to talk with you. It’s about Commander Trask!”

Both Alex and Wallace could detect the tone of her voice as being frustrated. T’Lira typically spoke in short, quick sentences when she was losing her cool.

Not this again, Alex thought to himself. Sharing a look with his XO, he knew that he shared the same thought. “Commander Jones is on his way down to you right now. Is that good enough, or do you need me personally?”

“That’s fine, sir, T’Lira out”

“Scratch that then, you go deal with T’Lira, I’ll speak to Sovek!” Alex sighed. He didn’t know who had the most unenviable task. Listen to T’Lira’s latest issue with the retired vet, or try to convince a Vulcan to accept assistance from his team.