[Backpost] A World with a Bluer Star, Part 1

Posted on Tue Mar 18th, 2025 @ 2:07am by Crewman Mateo Gardel
Edited on on Tue Mar 18th, 2025 @ 4:15am

1,169 words; about a 6 minute read

Act One, Part One: The Last Five-Year Mission

[ON]

:: Medical Sciences Laboratory ::

The Ahwatukee was old, and it felt old. Age seeped into its very structure, woven through the hum of overworked conduits and the faint, ever-present rattle of bulkheads that had endured decades of stress. The deck plating carried the scuff marks of generations of boots. The LCARS panels—though well-maintained—responded with a fractional lag, as though tired of processing yet another five-year mission. The ship was winding down, embarking on its last great journey before decommissioning, yet still carrying its crew into the unknown one final time.

To most aboard, it was an opportunity—to be part of history, to contribute to Starfleet’s legacy, to chart the uncharted before the Ahwatukee found its resting place in some drydock archive. For Mateo Gardel, it was simply another place to be forgotten.

The soft glow of bioluminescent lighting bathed the hematology lab in a cold, sterile blue, highlighting the perfectly arranged workstation in front of him. Mateo moved with methodical precision, adjusting the microscope’s magnification as he analyzed a fresh set of samples. His long fingers, adorned with intricate ink and steady control, worked with a grace born of obsession—everything aligned, everything accounted for.

Even in a Starfleet lab, there was an art to this work, a beauty in the structured elegance of microscopic life. He found comfort in the patterns, the predictable rhythm of cellular activity, the way blood told a story if you knew how to read it. Here, in this quiet pocket of the ship, nothing was unpredictable, nothing was chaotic. If only everything else in his life followed such perfect biological logic.

He knew why he had been assigned here. Not because he was unskilled—far from it. Mateo was meticulous, exacting, a specialist in his field. But his reputation always preceded him. The good? Sharp mind. Unmatched attention to detail. A scientist who saw connections others missed. The bad? Defiant. Disruptive. Impossible to manage. Most people focused on the latter.

So here he was, tucked away in a far-flung corner of the medical science division, an afterthought, placed just close enough to be useful, just far enough to be forgotten. The Chief Science Officer had made that clear—this was where Mateo would cause the least trouble.

He exhaled slowly, tapping one inked finger against the console, watching as the scanner processed the latest blood sample. Standard Starfleet physiology. Nothing unusual. And yet, he still found satisfaction in it. This was his work—the one constant in the chaos of transfers, reprimands, and burned bridges. Science was clear, structured, honest—the closest thing to a language he understood. People? Not so much.

---

The comm panel on the wall chirped, breaking the quiet rhythm of the lab.

=^= “Sickbay to Medical Lab.” =^=

Mateo didn’t look up immediately, finishing his scan before tapping his combadge.

=^= “Gardel here.” =^=

=^= “Mateo,” =^= came the even-keeled voice of Doctor Nira Vadek, the Ahwatukee’s Chief Medical Officer. Bajoran. Short-tempered. Not prone to unnecessary calls. =^= “Bridge needs you. Report immediately.” =^=

Mateo blinked, caught off guard. Bridge? He hadn’t set foot on the bridge since boarding. The science team had plenty of personnel who were higher-ranked, more experienced, and less… him.

=^= “Didn’t know I was suddenly bridge crew,” =^= he said dryly, leaning one hip against the workstation. =^= “Should I bring my pip polish?” =^=

There was a pause, then a sigh. =^= “Gardel—” =^=

=^= “On my way,” =^= he said quickly, deciding not to push.

He didn’t like being called into rooms where people with more authority than him gathered. That typically meant one of two things: they needed something, or he’d done something wrong. And since no one needed a hematology specialist on the bridge, that only left one possibility.

Exhaling through his nose, he grabbed his data PADD, straightened the sleeves of his uniform, and stepped out of the lab.

:: Bridge ::

The bridge was smaller than modern Starfleet designs, more function than aesthetics, and full of people who knew exactly why they were there. That made one of them.

Commander Dovek turned the moment Mateo entered, his bright blue eyes already twinkling with mock amusement.

“Well,” he greeted smoothly, tone light but with a pointed edge. “At least you didn’t get lost this time.”

Mateo’s jaw tensed. There it was. The familiar, casual needling—just light enough to be plausible deniability, but aimed precisely enough to hit its target. He knew what Dovek meant. Everyone knew.

Three months aboard the Ahwatukee, and Mateo had already built a reputation for taking his time when summoned by command. Not in an insubordinate way—never enough to warrant a formal reprimand—but just enough to avoid the inevitable verbal accosting that usually accompanied such meetings. He had a habit of lingering in less-traveled corridors, doubling back on his route, or taking just long enough to force impatient superiors to either repeat their summons or stew in their own irritation. It was a form of control, however small.

Dovek, of course, had noticed.

Mateo didn’t react, just tilted his head slightly, expression unreadable.

“Gardel,” Dovek continued, smiling faintly, “you’re always so prompt. How very… unexpected.”

Mateo, unsurprised, didn’t rise to the bait. He could already tell this wasn’t about a reprimand. The air was too charged, the viewscreen occupied by something far stranger than another senior officer annoyed with him.

He followed their gazes to the image displayed:

A shuttlepod. NX-class. Two centuries out of time.

His breath hitched, recognition striking immediately. The NX-class had been decommissioned over two hundred years ago.

Lieutenant Atresh, the Andorian science officer, spoke up, her tone measured. “We intercepted an automated distress signal. It’s recent.”

Mateo’s fingers curled slightly against his uniform sleeve. “That’s not possible.”

“Indeed,” Dovek said. “And yet, here we are.”

Atresh pulled up biometric scans from the planet’s surface.

“One human life sign,” she confirmed. “On the surface.”

A survivor. Two hundred years out of time.

Dovek exhaled, a deliberate pause, before turning to Mateo with mock consideration. “Well,” he mused. “I suppose we’ll need a qualified medical science specialist on this one, won’t we?”

Mateo knew what was coming before the words even left the man’s mouth.

“Pack a field kit,” Dovek ordered, amusement fully evident now. “You’re on the away team.”

[OFF - To be continued in Part 2]

Crewman Mateo Gardel
Hematology Technician
USS Ahwatukee

&

Commander Dovek
Commanding Officer
USS Ahwatukee
[NPC - Gardel]

&

Lieutentant Atresh
Chief Science Officer
USS Ahwatukee
[NPC - Gardel]

&

Doctor Nira Vadek
Chief Medical Officer
USS Ahwatukee
[NPC - Gardel]

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