Leave Passes & Ghosts

Posted on Thu May 21st, 2026 @ 7:54am by Senior Chief Petty Officer Jadizon Enor & Petty Officer 1st Class Kael Draven

Mission: Die Hard: Chimera Edition
Location: Chimera > Main Docking Port

The docking port outside the Chimera was absolute controlled chaos.

Crewmen hauled duffel bags toward the massive space elevator leading down to the planet below while antigrav cargo sleds floated between streams of departing personnel. Somebody from Engineering was already arguing with a Bolian station clerk about hotel upgrades while two security crewmen openly took bets on who would get arrested first during shore leave.

A baryon sweep meant everyone off the ship for forty-eight hours whether they liked it or not.

On the opposite side of the docking area, a young human lieutenant at the officers’ checkpoint was desperately trying to maintain order while half a dozen junior officers argued over shuttle reservations, luxury suites, and which museum exhibits required formal attire. The poor lieutenant looked one scheduling conflict away from resigning his commission.

Meanwhile, enlisted personnel flowed steadily through Jadizon and Draven’s checkpoint like a river of uniforms, species, personalities, and problems.

Jadizon stood planted near the enlisted exit in his command-red duty jacket, rank pips glinting beneath the docking bay lights while Petty Officer 1st Class Kael Draven struggled beside him with a PADD full of leave authorizations.

“You’re behind again,” Jadizon muttered.

Draven frowned down at the screen. “Three departments checked out simultaneously.”

“And somehow the ship still hasn’t exploded. Miracles happen.”

A pair of Andorian and Tellarite engineers approached first.

“Petty Officer zh’Renn,” Draven read aloud awkwardly.

The blue-skinned Andorian immediately narrowed her eyes. “You butchered that.”

“She says that every time,” her Tellarite counterpart grumbled while signing off on the PADD. “You’d think after five years aboard starships she’d realize nobody can pronounce Andorian names.”

Jadizon jerked a thumb toward the elevator. “Don’t start a diplomatic incident before dinner. Next.”

Behind them stepped a Vulcan operations specialist carrying three oversized travel cases with perfect posture and absolute calm.

“Crewman T’Vel requesting temporary departure authorization.”

Jadizon raised an eyebrow slowly. “You packed enough for a six-month deployment.”

“It is illogical to be underprepared for leisure.”

Draven snorted before quickly trying to hide it.

“Careful,” Jadizon said dryly. “You laugh at Vulcans long enough and they start reporting you for emotional instability.”

A Bajoran security specialist stepped forward next, her earring glinting beneath the lights.

“Petty Officer Lenaris,” Draven read.

“Try not to gamble away your paycheck this time,” Jadizon warned.

Lenaris smirked. “No promises, Chief.”

Behind her came Krog from Engineering, broad-shouldered and intimidating with the unmistakable ridges of Klingon blood mixed into human features. He carried an overstuffed bag over one shoulder like he planned to conquer the station instead of vacation on it.

“Krog,” Jadizon sighed immediately. “Why do you look like you’re invading the planet?”

Krog flashed a grin full of slightly-too-sharp teeth. “Because this station has restaurants, Chief. Weak restaurants.”

“You got banned from two mess halls last deployment.”

“One was political.”

“The other one caught fire.”

Krog looked proud. “A glorious misunderstanding.”

Draven nearly laughed out loud while checking him out.

“Careful, kid,” Jadizon warned. “Encouraging him is how casualties happen.”

Further down the line, a nervous Benzite science crewman attempted to explain museum schedules to a visibly uninterested Caitian operations tech while station announcements echoed overhead.

Then came the voice.

“Chief Enor! Chief! This is an outrage!”

A squat gray-haired human waddled forward dragging two enormous luggage cases behind him.

Jadizon closed his eyes briefly. “What now, Pell?”

Crewman Pell, the Chimera’s waste extraction specialist, pointed dramatically toward a station terminal. “They assigned me quarters near environmental recycling systems. Do you know what that does to my allergies?”

“You work in waste extraction.”

“Yes, professionally. There is a difference.”

Draven nearly choked trying not to laugh.

Pell leaned closer conspiratorially. “Also, Chief, this station’s sanitation grid is catastrophically outdated.”

“You are the only person alive who critiques sewage systems recreationally.”

“And proud of it.”

Jadizon waved him away. “Go bother the station engineers before I assign you overtime.”

Pell shuffled toward the elevator muttering about “unappreciated infrastructure professionals.”

Then the lights flickered.

Once.

Subtle enough nobody else reacted.

But Jadizon froze immediately.

The noise around him dulled strangely. The docking bay suddenly sounded far away, stretched thin like he was underwater. Conversations blurred together. Laughter became static.

Cold crawled slowly across the back of his neck.

Not physical cold.

Her.

Jadizon turned his head slowly toward the viewport overlooking the station exterior.

And there she was.

Reflected faintly in the glass behind the departing crowds.

Still.

Watching him.

The same woman. The same impossible calm expression she wore when he died. Patient. Knowing. Like she had simply been waiting for him to notice her again.

Then she smiled.

Not kindly.

Possessively.

Her voice slid into his mind like silk dragged across broken glass.

You came back to me.

Jadizon’s jaw clenched instantly.

You still belong to me.

His pulse spiked.

They cannot save you from what you already are.

“Shut up,” Jadizon muttered under his breath.

A young enlisted Trill operations crewman standing nearby stopped mid-signature and stared at him nervously. “Uh… Chief?”

The reflection in the viewport tilted its head slightly.

You hear me now. Better than before.

Jadizon’s breathing tightened. For half a second, he looked genuinely shaken.

Then years of discipline slammed back into place.

He shoved the leave PADD into Draven’s chest hard enough to make the younger petty officer stumble.

“You’ve got the line,” Jadizon said flatly.

Draven blinked. “Chief?”

“Finish checkouts. Don’t lose anybody important.”

Without another word, Jadizon turned and strode down the corridor away from the docking bay, boots echoing sharply against the deck plating while the noise of departing crew faded behind him.

And somewhere just beyond hearing, the entity laughed quietly in the dark.