One Last Moment - Part 1

Posted on Sat Aug 8th, 2026 @ 5:11pm by Captain Marc Steyn & Lieutenant JG Ikan Seidel & Lieutenant JG Kethyra Vesh & Ensign Kristian Hale & Commodore Charlotte Reyes & Lieutenant JG Maec O'Donnaghue

2,848 words; about a 14 minute read

Mission: Season 1, Episode 1: Ashes of Wolf 359
Location: Steyn Residence, Cape Town, Earth

ON

It was the final few days before Genesis' launch window, and the pressure across the entire project had reached its peak. Every member of the senior staff had been pushing themselves relentlessly, routinely working double shifts and, in some cases, far beyond that. There were final system checks to complete, departmental reviews to sign off, personnel assignments to confirm, and a thousand small details that could make the difference between a smooth launch and a chaotic one.

Marc had watched his officers push themselves to exhaustion and, as captain, he knew when discipline had to give way to common sense.

He had ordered them all a few days of leave before launch.

Not a suggestion. Not a request.

An order.

They had earned it.

He had also extended an invitation for all of them to join him at his home, including the command oversight representatives in the form of Commodores Reyes and Dazad. Although, if he was being honest with himself, Marc wasn't entirely convinced Dazad would actually appear. Their last face-to-face meeting had been productive, but "comfortable" was not a word he would have used to describe it. The commodore had a talent for making even a victory feel like a disciplinary hearing.

Still, the invitation had been sent.

The choice was his.

Inside the house, an assortment of drinks waited on the central island overlooking the open living space. There was a selection of local Earth beverages alongside others sourced from across the Federation—some familiar, some less so—carefully arranged for guests who might prefer something traditional or something entirely new.

The large bifold doors had been opened fully, allowing the interior of the home to flow naturally onto the veranda and the lower levels beyond. The view opened out towards the garden and the pool, creating a space that felt less like a formal gathering and more like friends and colleagues simply enjoying an afternoon together.

Knowing his officers as well as he did, Marc had anticipated that someone would inevitably end up in the water.

Several towels had already been placed nearby, and the household replicator had been prepared with a selection of appropriate swimwear options should anyone decide that the pool was too tempting to ignore.

The food had been carefully chosen as well. Much of it reflected Marc's South African heritage—traditional dishes and familiar flavours from home—prepared not just as a meal, but as a reminder of where he came from. In a few days, these people would leave Earth behind and spend years together among the stars. He wanted them to understand a little of the person behind the uniform.

Soft music filled the house, the melodic tones of his homeland blending with the relaxed atmosphere and the quiet conversations already beginning to form.

A few of his officers had already arrived, scattered throughout the living space in small groups, their usual professional demeanours noticeably lighter away from the ship and the weight of command.

For once, nobody was discussing launch schedules, technical issues, or mission parameters.

For once, they were simply people.

Most of the senior staff, however, had yet to arrive.

Marc glanced briefly towards the entrance, a faint smile crossing his face.

And for the occasion, Marc had deliberately left the uniform behind.

Instead, he had opted for something far more personal—a short-sleeved shirt covered in a colourful floral pattern, paired with a comfortable pair of shorts. It was a stark contrast to the crisp Starfleet uniform his officers were accustomed to seeing him wear, and exactly the point. Tonight wasn't about rank, regulations, or the weight of command. Tonight he was simply Marc Steyn, inviting the people who would soon become as close as family.

He glanced down at himself briefly, amused at the thought of how surprised some of his crew might be to see their captain dressed so casually.

Before he could dwell on it any further, the door chime sounded.

Marc looked towards the entrance, a smile already forming.

The rest of the crew had begun to arrive.

Max had never been to South Africa. He had thought Rome hot during summer but it had nothing on this continent. Perhaps he should have worn shorts?

Instead he had stuck to a trusty stylish fitted dark blue shirt, open at the first couple of buttons and light chocolate brown trousers. Chic and cool fabrics. In his hand he held a bottle of red wine from his home land and a platter of Italian pastries/desserts.

He held out the gifts as the door opened.

"Goeie môre," Marc said warmly as he opened the door to find his First Officer standing there, with several others making their way up the path behind him.

A broad smile crossed his face at the sight of them.

"Come in, come in," he said, stepping aside to let them pass. His eyes moved briefly over Max's attire before he gave a playful shake of his head. "Did I not tell you to wear shorts? It's going to get warm here."

The familiar Cape accent softened the words, turning what might otherwise have sounded like a captain's instruction into something far more personal—a gentle tease between friends rather than an order from a superior officer.

Marc accepted the bottle of wine and the platter Max had brought with a grateful nod.

"Thank you. You didn't have to, but I appreciate it."

He led Max inside, gesturing casually around the open living space as they walked.

"Drinks are over there, food is all set up on the island, and just make yourself at home. Seriously."

He waved a hand towards the open doors leading out onto the veranda and the garden beyond.

"There's no seating plan, no formalities, no Starfleet protocol. Everyone's here to relax."

The soft music continued to drift through the house, blending with the growing sound of conversation and laughter as more of the crew began to arrive.

"Feel free to wander wherever you like," Marc added with a smile. "The house is open."

Vireya arrived a few moments behind Max, catching sight of him further up the path as the door opened.

Unlike the First Officer, she had taken Marc’s warning about the heat seriously. She wore loose cream trousers, flat sandals and a sleeveless dark green top that left her arms bare, her red hair gathered back loosely from her face. It was comfortable without feeling careless, though the light fabric still moved against her in the warm air rolling up from the coast.

In one hand she carried a narrow wooden case containing a bottle of pale amber El Aurian cordial, made from an old Diaspora recipe of spiced fruit and mountain herbs. It wasn’t especially strong, but it had a habit of warming the chest and loosening conversation, which seemed appropriate for the evening.

She stepped inside after Max, taking in the open house, the music and the wash of sunlight across the veranda. Marc had managed to make the place feel lived in even with half his senior staff beginning to fill it.

“I heard it was a Human custom not to arrive empty-handed,” she said, lifting the case slightly. “So I brought something from my side of the family.”

Her gaze flicked towards Max, amusement touching her expression as she noticed the trousers.

“And apparently I’m not the only one who decided the Captain’s advice was open to interpretation.”

Used to the heat, Syvar has opted for loose fitting linen pants and a short sleeved tunic that fell just over his thighs. He was also wearing a sunhat, very much in Australian style which was quite the contrast to his Vulcan appearance. "Captain," he greeted, a thousand-Watt smile touching his features. "You have a lovely home."

"Now that," Marc declared with an approving grin, "is a sense of style I can get behind."

His eyes lingered for a moment on the Vulcan Chief Medical Officer's attire, the choice of clothing a refreshing departure from the austere image most people associated with Vulcans. Whether intentional or not, it seemed to cast aside centuries of expectation in favour of something altogether more individual.

"I have to say," he added with a quiet chuckle, "you're doing absolutely nothing to reinforce the stereotypes."

Turning his attention back to Vireya, he accepted the gift box with both hands.

"My thanks," he said sincerely. "You really didn't have to."

He smiled warmly before stepping aside from the doorway.

"Please, both of you, make yourselves at home."

With an inviting sweep of his hand, he motioned them inside.

The house had become pleasantly alive since the first guests had arrived. Conversations ebbed and flowed between small groups scattered throughout the open-plan living space, the growing chorus of laughter and friendly debate.

Marc couldn't help but smile at the diversity gathered under one roof.

A young Klingon male was already deep in conversation with a Xindi-Insectoid, their animated discussion drawing amused glances from a pair of Starfleet engineers nearby. Elsewhere, officers, civilian specialists and family members mingled with an ease that reminded Marc precisely why he had fought so hard for Genesis to be more than simply another starship.

She was already becoming a community.

Not everyone present belonged to the senior staff, but each of them would soon call Genesis home. Marc intended to know as many of them as he could before they left Earth behind.

As Vireya and the doctor moved further into the gathering, Marc leaned in slightly.

"If you wouldn't mind," he said quietly, lowering his voice just enough that it remained between them, "could you spread the word amongst the senior officers?"

He glanced around the room before returning his attention to her.

"I'd like to steal them away for half an hour or so later this evening. Nothing formal—just the senior staff. I think it'd be good for us to have a chance to toast our new adventure."

His smile returned.

"Of course captain," Syvar smiled, "and most Vulcans don't approve of me. I'm raised here on Earth by Humans, of course I don't adhere to the stereotype."

Vireya followed Marc’s glance across the room, already recognising a few familiar faces among the gathering.

“Of course,” she said quietly. “I’ll mention it when I see them.”

As she moved further inside, her attention returned to Syvar. The loose tunic and linen trousers suited the heat, but the broad-brimmed Australian hat above his pointed ears brought a private smile to her face.

“I see you took the Captain’s warning about the weather seriously,” she said. “Much more seriously than Max did.”

Leia couldn’t believe the Captain had invited a teacher to his house. And what a beautiful house it looked. She had her hair loose and was wearing a sundress and sandals. She carried a basket. She beamed at the man as he opened his door. “Thank you for the invite. I’m very happy to be here,” she said seeing how the sunlight hit the decor. It was truly gorgeous.

She held out the basket. “We baked with the younger kids today. They all made a cupcake for you Captain. Varying decorations and an eclectic colour palette but they put their heart and soul into it.”

Charlotte peered over the shoulder of the woman she stood behind, the smell of baked goods calling out. She wasn't sure when the last time she'd had something homemade, especially baked.

"I have to say, those look absolutely gorgeous, I hope that the Captain intends on sharing them around." The Commodore smiled at the woman as she stepped up beside her before glancing across to Marc, a bottle of wine in her own hand. "With baking like that, they'll end up rolling you through the corridors to get to the bridge Marc."

"Miss Beaumont, I'm delighted you could make it." Marc's smile broadened as his gaze shifted to the second attendee standing with her. "Commodore, it's a pleasure to see you again—as always."

Stepping aside, he welcomed them both inside without the slightest hint of ceremony, accepting the bottle of wine and the basket of baked goods with genuine appreciation.

"Thank you. You really didn't need to."

He set the gifts carefully on a nearby sideboard before turning back to them with the same easy smile.

"My home is your home," he said warmly, gesturing towards the rest of the gathering. "Make yourselves comfortable. There's food, plenty to drink, and absolutely no protocol to worry about today. Just enjoy yourselves."

With the sounds of laughter and conversation already drifting through the house, Marc motioned for them to head inside, happy to see yet more of Genesis' growing family gathered beneath one roof.

Charlotte hesitated to move further into the room, looking a little closer at the Captain."This is quite a feat you've managed here; to take a new crew that have only had a few weeks to readjust to the idea of a new ship; and encourage them to mingle before they've stepped foot on their new home."

Moving closer to Marc as she moved to his side, the Commodore surveyed the occupants of the house and took in the celebratory environment that was building. "How are you coping though...it's equally been a fast few weeks for you."

"I'm coping," Marc replied quietly, offering a small, reassuring smile. "The work has helped. It keeps my mind occupied." He paused for a moment, the smile fading ever so slightly. "I still have a few demons to wrestle with, but every counsellor I've spoken to has told me the same thing—that healing isn't something you rush. It just... takes time."

It was genuinely good to see Charlotte again.

She had been one of Sarah's closest friends for years, their bond forged long before Marc had entered the picture. When Sarah died, Charlotte had grieved alongside him, sharing not only his loss but David's as well. Through the darkest days that followed, she had remained a constant presence, never trying to fix what couldn't be fixed, simply ensuring neither father nor son had to face it alone.

Without thinking, Marc stepped forward and slipped his arms around her, pulling her into a warm embrace.

He knew she would protest. She always did.

Physical displays of affection had never been Charlotte's preferred way of expressing herself, and over the years she had rolled her eyes at more than one of Marc's spontaneous hugs. Even so, she had eventually come to accept that his informality wasn't going to change.

"It's good to see you," he said sincerely. "I've missed you."

The hug caught her by surprise; it had been awhile since her defences had been lowered to let somebody close. The night with Max had been an exception; she believed if she even told Marc about what would have happened he'd have possible questioned if she was a shape shifter pretending to be his friend.

A beat passed before her own arms wrapped around Marc in return; it had been a long four years since Sarah had passed. When the news has reached her of Wolf 359 mere weeks ago, and she'd found out that Marc's ship had been destroyed; the hours it took for the rescuers to send word on the names of survivors felt like a lifetime.

Squeezing Marc a little harder, the woman finally let go before stepping back and looking the Captain in his eyes, keeping one hand on his arm as she squeezed it. "She'd be so proud you know...the Captain you've become, how well you've raised David.

"I hope so..." he replied quietly.

The two of shared in comfortable silence, each lost in memories of the person who had brought them together and forged the friendship they now shared.

After a moment, he glanced over at her, a faint smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

"I see a problem here..." he said. "You don't have a drink."

Charlotte hesitated for a second before nodding her head, a flash of laughter crossed her lips at the same time. "Just the one aye. I've no wish for your crew to witness a drunk Commodore anytime soon. I'll leave that to Commodore Jackson. He earned the drunk title with good reason."

Maec had gotten caught up getting his things situated, he knew there was a party but in typical fashion he knew he was going to be late. Leaving his uniform off he opted for his casual dress leaving his quaters. he made for the party location "sorry im late captain got caught up gettng my things settled in my room"

"You're not late at all, Lieutenant. Please, come in and get yourself a drink. Mingle, enjoy yourself," Marc called from his position beside the Commodore.

He flashed her a quick, apologetic smile before turning away and moving further into the room. There were guests to greet, drinks to offer, and conversations to encourage. Tonight, at least, Marc was determined to be a good host.

...To Be Continued...

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