Three Days' Grace

Posted on Fri Nov 7th, 2025 @ 8:02pm by Lieutenant Commander Nezuko & Lieutenant JG Jane Sinclair

2,095 words; about a 10 minute read

Mission: The Next Myogi
Location: USS Myogi-A Shuttlebay
Timeline: 23-26 January 2400; Between "Myogi: The Next Generation, Part 1" and "Blacken Out the Sky: The Prologue"

23 January 2400, 0055 hours

Keep the shuttle ready.

Captain Takahashi had been rushed toward the sickbay of this USS Myogi-A, in the company of her husband, her XO, the CMO, and the Counselor, leaving Lieutenant JG Jane Sinclair to manage their ride home. She’d suggested that she keep it ready for launch at a moment’s notice, and Commander Misono had agreed.

So that’s all there is to it. Run diagnostics. Perform whatever maintenance can be done that won’t ground the shuttle for any more than five or ten minutes. Polish the shiny surfaces if it came to that.

This might take a while, she wondered idly. And then she got to work.


23 January 2400, 0153 hours

Kyoko Takahashi.

Ichika had called Jane to give her the update. Just ten minutes earlier, little Kyoko was welcomed into the world just a few minutes earlier. Mama and baby were healthy and happy. They would need some time in the Myogi-A sickbay to recover, and at the moment there was no pressing need to rush anywhere.

It would be up to Doctors Zephryn and Ryo to decide when the Captain and Kyoko could be discharged. Until then, all Jane could do is keep working.

Shuttlecraft Usagi will sparkle by the time she’d be done!

In the meantime, maybe there’s a way to get some food…


23 January 2400, 1122 hours

It had been a minor miracle that the CPO that maintained the bay tractor beam had been an Interstellar-One fan.

The first guest Jane had had in the shuttlebay was a Crewman coming to replace a faulty deck plate. She’d explained her situation, that she couldn’t leave her post, but that she’d not eaten all day and wondered if maybe he could go bring her a sandwich and some water from the mess hall? He’d been sympathetic, but his own Captain Takahashi ran a tight ship, and he didn’t have the time between tasks to do that for her.

The second had been an Ensign who had just been relieved from control room watch. She had the time, but wasn’t willing to part with a replicator ration.

Rationing replicator credits? What is this, the dark ages?

Kinda, yeah.

But the tractor beam repair lady recognized her face. Number 81. Jane Sinclair. And as a fellow Proxima native, she’d been a lifelong supporter of the Proxima-Renault team. So of course when her job was done she was happy to trade a few replicator credits and bring her some food and water for a picture and some stories of her racing days.

There was exhaustion in the chief’s eyes. She looked like she spent most of the past few months on autopilot, getting the job done without actually living.

Jane could tell that the sincere smile the shuttlebay chief wore was one of the first she’d had in a long time.

It was perhaps telling that a darkness fell upon her whenever Jane pressed for information about home. After two attempts, she’d learned to drop the matter. Let’s keep this a happy moment, shall we?

The impromptu brunch ended on a note Jane would likely never forget. “Thank you, Lieutenant. I can die content.”

So that’s where the crew’s mind is then.


24 January 2400, 0617 hours

Choosing to fly the Usagi over had been a brilliant move on Jane’s part. Of course, she’d chosen it for its carrying capacity; they had lots of passengers after all. But critically for her, it also had a fold-away bed.

She still couldn’t leave the shuttlebay, but her CPO friend had left her with a few meals of credit. She’d flagged a Petty Officer checking one of Myogi-A’s shuttles and asked him to pick her something up, and he’d agreed.

She’d pinged Commander Misono for an update. People still seemed well but there was no indication of when they would leave. “Be ready,” remained the only instruction.

And ready they would remain.


24 January 2400, 1849 hours

Every diagnostic had been run. Every system tested and passed once, twice, three times over. Anything deviating even slightly from normal was tweaked and refined until it was fixed.

She’d even washed it, old school style. She’d gotten approval from the shuttlebay control room supervisor to run a hose from the ship’s water supply and replicate some washcloths, sponges, and detergent. Continuing to use the barter system she’d fallen into, she agreed to wash the Myogi-A complement of shuttles in exchange for two sets of fresh undergarments, a towel, and a PADD preloaded with some books, disconnected from the ship’s network to prevent unauthorized access or Temporal Prime Directive violations. Fair enough.

And so she’d hung up her uniform jacket and got to work. If Alisha could see me now!

By the time she was done, every single shuttle on that deck gleamed with a mirror-finish. These were vessels that would have made the late Miyahara nod approvingly.

And Jane was able to take the edge off her own hygiene issues, spraying herself with the hose as she worked.

This needs to be a regular thing on our ship, Jane thought as she ate a late dinner, staring approvingly at her works and feeling cleanest she’d been in two days.


25 January 2400, 1312 hours

You can only read for so long before the words start to blur together, or you find yourself re-reading the same passage three or four times.

That’s how it was for Jane. People had been kind in giving her a locked down PADD with an entire library of fiction and nonfiction books from across the genre spectrum, their only commonality being that they were published before the Myogi’s disappearance from the timeline. She’d been briefly paralyzed by a glut of options, but reacted swiftly and smartly by having it pick a book at random.

She’d gone to sleep reading a sappy romance story.

With nothing more to do after waking aside from re-checking her diagnostics, she finished the book and started the next recommendation, an Andorian political thriller.

It was during the third book, an Agatha Christie murder mystery, that her eyes started to unfocus.

Down went the PADD. A new source of intellectual stimulation was needed.

The Usagi had its own miniature computer core, with its own verbal interface. She’d found playing games with it was a good way to pass the time, and Twenty Questions was her favourite. But hour after hour of having no one to talk to but the computer and anyone who happened by her shuttle…

She would need more intellectual stimulation soon.


25 January 2400, 1810 hours

Jane had not expected a senior officer to visit her.

A tapping sound on the outer hull pulled her away from the PADD and what she had been writing on it. She looked at the hatch and saw a woman with a yellow-trimmed uniform standing on the deck, the smile on her lips partially obscured with what looked like a respirator. She carried in one hand a case that looked like it would be heavy if not for the antigrav emitter.

“Oh hi!” Jane said, happy to have someone—anyone—at her door. She set the PADD down and stood up. “Please tell me there’s food in there.”

The woman nodded excitedly and set it down to open it. The lid came off and inside were two dinner plates, along with drink cups with lids and straws full of what looked like cola, utensils, and napkins. Jane helped deploy a pair of fold-away tables while her guest served dinner.

“I’m Jane,” the pilot said by way of introduction. She sat down behind her table and examined the plate. It looked like a form of red meat, but not beef—maybe venison? Or something unfamiliar to her—cooked medium rare with a brown sauce and a compote of red and purple berries. Also on the plate were some multicoloured roasted carrots. “This looks divine, thank you.”

The visitor nodded while sitting down and unfolding her napkin. She put a PADD on her own table and tapped a short message on it, which the device then spoke aloud. “Nezuko. Ops Chief.”

“Pleasure to meet you, Nezuko. Bon appétit.”

The meat Nezuko brought practically melted in her mouth. The flavour was unlike anything she’d tried before. So fresh and vibrant! “This wasn’t replicated, was it?” Jane asked.

Nezuko had taken out her respirator to take a bite. She shook her head, finished chewing, put her mouthpiece back on, and tapped out a reply. “Called Porcala. From Amphei Prime. Homeworld. Raised on large ranches.” She looked sad a moment before continuing to type. “Amphei Prime gone. Kept these in stasis. Gift from loved ones…” She wiped tears from her eyes. “Wanted to share with someone.”

Jane looked Nezuko in the eyes and nodded. “I’m sorry. Thank you for sharing something so special with me.”

Nezuko smiled again and nodded. She slipped the straw from her drink into a port in her respirator.

They ate together in silence, enjoying what for either of them might be the last moment of peace they would have in a long time.

Jane broke the silence with a question. “Can I ask a favour?” She opened her PADD and slid it over to Nezuko. “I’m not asking you to tell me anything, but can you try and send this when you get the chance? It shouldn’t be temporally problematic, I promise, but you can read it to be sure.”

The Myogi-A Ops Chief read the message on the PADD.

Hi Mum,

They won’t tell me if you’re alive. I write this in the hope that you are.

I’m alive. I can’t say much. Let’s leave it at Temporal Prime Directive. But rest assured I’m okay. So is Alisha.

We never got to tell you we’re engaged! I hope I can show you our rings in person soon.

Love always,

Jane
小珍


Nezuko put the PADD under her own and nodded. She then typed a bit more. “Trade. For if you go home.”

She took an isolinear chip from out of the bottom of her PADD and handed it to Jane, who picked it up and examined it. “Does this break the Temporal Prime Directive?” Jane asked.

Nezuko shook a little as if giggling. “Probably. But only a bit.”

Jane joined her in giggling. “If I ever get home, I’ll send it. You have my word.”

The two finished their meals in silence, living in the middle of this shared moment of pure trust between two strangers.


26 January 2400, 0855 hours

Three days. Three fucking days of waiting around.

And any time someone had bothered to fill her in it was with reassurance that things were fine. So why were they still here?!

Was it normal for a new mother and child born without serious complications to stay in sickbay for three days?

Breathe, Jane reminded herself. Patience was never your best trait. These things take as long as they take. You don’t want to fly someone who isn’t safe to be flown.

But it was soooo boring.

C’mon! When will this–

“USS Myogi-A to Shuttlecraft Usagi.” It was Nezuko’s distinct mechanical speaker-voice coming through the shuttle’s comm system. “Your Captain and crew are incoming. Prepare for imminent departure.”

And so the long wait ends. Soon the Captain and the others would be aboard. Soon they would be airborne and back aboard their own USS Myogi. What would happen next, she did not know. But whatever it was, she was ready for it.

She made sure the shuttle’s boarding ramp was down and secure, deployed the passenger seats including the new baby-safe one, and did a final check of all systems.

’Keep the shuttle ready,’ they’d said. Well mission accomplished.

But someone had BETTER compliment how clean this shuttle is!


END

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