Caution and Coffee-like Liquids

Posted on Wed 24th Jun, 2026 @ 2:51am by Magnus Temple & Phon de Meyer
Edited on on Wed 24th Jun, 2026 @ 3:01am

3,100 words; about a 16 minute read

Mission: [MAIN] Learning to Fly
Location: Delavi Expanse

ON:

Magnus and his team were stopped at a service space-station somewhere deep within the Delavi Expanse; their planned journey towards the White Diamond Nebula having been delayed by a solar storm casting dangerous high-radiation clouds across their path. It was either detour around and add three days onto the journey or stop and see if it passes. So they were bunked up for the night in this floating rest stop motel behind some pinkish-purple planet.

Sitting in his small quarters, Magnus’ bed was right up against the window and he was peering out at the planet below, a PaDD in his lap. He had been thinking about some of the conversations he’d had recently - especially his evening of pizza and Trill beers with Commander Rex. Their seemingly impromptu chat had brought up a lot of emotions for him; the stinging memories of his past and his father’s wrong-doings. He had felt relieved in the moment that Heriah had been supportive and reassuring but now in these lonely dark hours, a feeling of dread and caution began to swarm over him. He didn’t like that someone had been so close to his father, and had this awareness of his history. It was too close to home.

Naturally, he had reached out to his brother for a catch up, having sent a message several hours ago. Only now did Nyx respond. Appearing on the PADD screen, Nyx was seated in his Ready Room on the Pandora. The video connection was unfortunately distorted and weak, due to the distance between them and the solar storm most likely causing disruption to the subspace network.

“…. Magnu… “ Came a fuzzy voice, disjointed from the frozen image on screen.

“Nyx?” Magnus sighed, lifting up the PaDD as if that was somehow going to fix something. “Can you hear me?”

“Hear… you… “ Nyx’s chopped up voice tried to break through. “Wait….Try… Quincy…”

“Quincy?” Magnus frowned, trying to decipher the nonsense. He immediately felt frustrated and disappointed that perhaps he wasn’t going to get to speak with Nyx. All he could do was stare as the screen switched to black with the Starfleet logo for a few moments.

Suddenly the picture stabilised and Nyx was coming through clear as day, his broad smile evident. “That’s better.”

“It is.” Magnus nodded in relief. “Who is Quincy?”

“Huh? Oh. Haha, no. I said I was switching to the wide band frequency.” Nyx laughed. He pointed above him, which Magnus realised he was meaning the Pandora’s Luna Class sensor pod. “I don’t know where the heck you are little bro, but my Chief Engineer is not going to be happy with me using the pod for this purpose.”

“When have your Chief Engineers ever been happy with how you run the ship?” Magnus retorted with raised eyebrows. “It should be part of your on-boarding speech by now that you’re going to do ridiculous things with your ship and they’ll have to fix it.”

Nyx could only nod in agreement, “I like to keep it interesting. Sorry I couldn’t respond to you sooner, the Pandora’s been activated again and we’re en route to our mission. A colony was attacked and we’re going to help them out.”

“Ah I see.” Magnus nodded, a look of concern growing on his face. “Casualties?”

“About a dozen dead, that we know of.” Nyx replied gravely. “Perhaps more. We’ll find out soon.”

Magnus shifted, suddenly feeling silly for disturbing his brother and getting upset. It felt a little foolish now, of course he’d go running to Nyx to tell him something had happened, he always did. But he wondered if he hadn’t over-reacted. “Well I’m sorry to disturb you, it can wait til you’re back.”

Nyx frowned, sensing his brother’s resignation in his tone. He wasn’t about to let him go. “I still have a few hours before we get there. What’s on your mind?”

“Well… “ Magnus sighed, deciding whether or not to get into it. He could see Nyx’s cautiously expectant face staring back at him, knowing he was utilising necessary ship resources to make this call. He couldn’t back down now. “I was speaking to SB109’s Commander Rex. She’s a joined Trill and it turns out one of her symbiont’s previous hosts knew our father. In fact, worked with him when he was… at his worst.”

“Damn.” Nyx sat back in his chair. “They knew him?”

“Kind of. The host knew him before the symbiont was joined, so the memories aren’t entirely distinguishable.” Magnus answered, “But she recognised the name and Rex has maintained some knowledge of our father. And, more importantly, what they were up to.”

“Oohh.” Nyx breathed out. “So before his arrest and court martial? During that time?”

“Yes.” Magnus nodded. “Most of those details were squashed by the judiciary to protect us. Even if people remember his name, they don’t know all the details. But now here’s someone who tangentially knew him. We can’t… squash… memories.”

“Do you think it’ll be a problem?” Nyx asked, a shadowy look passed over his face. He was clearly contemplating if this was a threat. “I could reach out -“

“No. No.” Magnus said firmly, holding up his free hand. “In fact, Heriah was actually very understanding. She said she wanted me to know that I am not defined by our dad’s actions. It was sweet, really.”

“I see.” Nyx leaned back again, realising he had perhaps misread the moment. “That is nice…. But, still, a little worrying.”

“What can we do?” Magnus shrugged, “This will always hang over us at some level. People knew him, even if they pretend now that they didn’t. And he’s still out there being a massive disappointment so, no doubt he’ll run into someone who knows us.”

“Yeah.” Nyx said in resignation. “I know. It does feel like we live under their shadow at times. Me being in Starfleet trying not to be compared to our father; you in politics not wanting to be compared to our mother. We can’t escape them.”

Magnus laughed a little, “We should have just been musicians or something. Then we’d have no chance of being compared with our parents.”

“I can’t sing, but I think I could do drums?” Nyx suggested, “It’s not too late.”

“What’s that band that came from your ship, Warp 9? Maybe they want a back up dancer?” Magnus nodded enthusiastically, only mostly joking, “Go on the road, forget everything.”

“Yeah.” Nyx said softly. The idea faded away, as it was always going to do, as a passing amusement. “I think I’d just like to have my career speak for itself.”

“I agree.” Magnus added, “I just want my work to be recognised, more so than my name. Our name.”

“It will be.” Nyx said earnestly, in that supportive way he always could be. “But you think Heriah can be trusted? She’s not going to use it against you?”

“No, I don’t think she’s that kind of person. I genuinely think she only told me to let me know she’s not concerned about it.” Magnus shrugged earnestly. “Didn’t even think it was worth mentioning to Captain Francis.”

Nyx nodded quietly. “Francis has been around, he probably already knows.”

=/\= “Engineering to Temple.” =/\=

“Uh oh.” Nyx mouthed with a slight smirk into the screen before he tapped his badge. =/\= Temple here. =/\=

=/\= Sir, we’re having trouble maintaining a stable power ratio with so much resources circling through the sensor pod. Any idea what could be causing it?” =/\= A tired voice asked.

“I guess I have to go.” Nyx sighed.

Magnus nodded, “Good luck with your mission. Get in touch when you’re back in range.”

His brother smiled warmly, “Of course. Stay safe.”

=/\= Captain Temple?! =/\= A terse bark came over the comms.

Nyx tried to stifle a laugh as he ended the call.

*****

Placing the PADD back down onto the bed, Magnus stretched out his long legs and arms, feeling the tension leave his body. He was glad to have spoken to Nyx and gotten his thoughts, if only to confirm what he already felt.

Rising up from his bunk, he moved over to the small kitchenette in the guest suite. A small replicator was embedded in the wall, so he began to scroll through the options listlessly. Nothing was really capturing his taste buds, it was all the same basic meals and dishes on every programmed system. Instead, he decided he would see if there was a small cafe or restaurant onboard the station that perhaps had something more interesting and real to eat.

As Magnus opened the doors to his quarters, he was surprised to see a tall, dark haired younger man standing in the corridor outside. As he flicked a look over to Magnus, the diplomat realised he was no stranger.

“Phon de Meyer.” Magnus said to the man, lips pursed together. “What are you doing here?”

The political reporter for the Daily Tribune, Phon was known in Paris and around Federation circles for his insider knowledge of Palais politics and the churning machinations of the Federation Council. In his late twenties, he had astutely risen through the ranks of political journalism due to his apparent ability to cultivate intimate contacts and more-than-happy-to-share friendships, giving him a keen ear to the happenings on Earth. Magnus was not a fan, however, as he believed Phon liked to publish rumours and gossip; that he approached parliamentary procedure as if was a sport; and his constant desire to deify the major players within the parties - especially his mother. It just so happened that the Daily Tribune had recently started agreeing with his mother’s party’s politics, which irked Magnus greatly.

Being appointed to Delavi and Starbase 109, Magnus thought he had gained more than enough distance to never hear from - let alone be standing in front of - Phon de Meyer again. And yet, here he was, on this random space station deep in the Expanse. He was here in the corridor, wearing that smug little smile like always.

“I could ask the same thing.” Phon replied casually, flipping his black hair back casually. “In fact, many of us in Paris are wondering what the hell the Danish Prince of politics is doing in this backwater swamp of a region in Who-The-Frack-Cares Delavi?”

“Wow. I’m touched by your concern, and deeply insulted by your categorisation of Delavi.” Magnus leaned against the door frame, folding his arms across his chest haughtily. “But that doesn’t answer my question.”

“You know,” Phon shrugged. “Chasing a story. I heard there was a little kaboom on the station you were sent to, and wondered if you’d like to comment?”

“You’re telling me the Tribune is apparently concerned about an incident in - to use your own words - backwater swamp region of Who The Frack Cares Delavi?” Magnus scoffed. “I don’t believe it.”

“Believe that the people back home are deeply concerned when the exiled Golden Child and heir apparent to the Minister of the Exterior is almost blown to pieces while stationed out in the middle of nowhere.” Phon feigned his concern well, trying not to show the hint of mirth on his face, despite his lighter tone.

“I was never exiled from Paris,” Magnus said clearly, “And that is on the record, despite what your publication wants to invent.”

“So the attack on Starbase 109 was not a scheme hatched by the Minister to eradicate the threat to her position?” Phon leaned in closer, knowing he was being deliberately antagonistic.

“No.” Magnus said with a roll of his eyes. “Don’t be ridiculous. No one, for a second, would believe that. But if you are truly concerned about what’s happening here in Delavi, you should know then that it’s not going to be about me. I am not the story here.”

“So there is a story?” Phon asked eagerly, his mood elevating.

“Let’s go get a coffee and we can discuss it, off the record.” Magnus said pointedly, looking down at the pocket of Phon’s shirt, seeing a small light on a recording device. “I know your tricks, Phon.”

Phon laughed, having the decency to be a little embarrassed. “Old habits, Magnus. I’ll buy you coffee?”

“No.” Magnus said firmly as they walked into the corridor. “I’ll pay for my own, thank you.”

Ten minutes later and the pair had indeed found a bistro on the observation deck. It was in the centre of a circular room, the outer walls were all windows to the view outside. The planet slowly passed them by as the station slowly rotated around. As it was late and the station was quiet, they were the only two seated. A surly Ferengi attending the shop had managed to upsell them from a regular Earth coffee to some dark liquid concoction that tasted exactly like coffee but cost twice the price. It was served in a souvenir mug, however.

Seated on either sides of a booth by the window, Magnus sipped his drink and savoured the smooth but bitter taste.

“How did you end up here?” Magnus asked, peering over the mug.

“I was onboard of a transport vessel and the solar storm took us off course. I had been trying to find survivors from the 109 incident and they said this was one of the main trade routes used by merchants.”

“So it’s a complete coincidence that we’re both here at the same time?” Magnus shook his head. “I don’t believe you.”

“You’re a hard man to track down, Magnus.” Phon shrugged. “You’ve been zipping all over the Expanse for the past three months. One minute you’re on the Thunderchild, then you’re with the Broot, the Irokari…” he trailed off, realising he had revealed too much.

Magnus squinted and pursed his lips together. “So you have my schedule? This is not a coincidence. Is it someone from my office or back home?”

“I have contacts in Starfleet.” Phon merely replied, as casual as it could be. “I was mostly honest in my intentions, Magnus. I said I was chasing you for a story into SB109 and they were willing to help. I guess…” he sighed, “People do really care about what happened on the station.”

At this, Magnus let out a bellowing laugh. In the empty, circular room, the sound echoed around loudly.

“And that’s shocking to you? You’re actually surprised by that?” He said incredulously.

“I guess.” Phon shrugged.

“My friend, you desperately need to get out of Paris more often. Out of Earth, even.” Magnus said honestly. “You’ve let your view become some hyper focused on the Palais and politics, you’ve forgotten there’s a whole universe out here, where real shit happens.”

Phon reluctantly nodded. “I know, I know. Is that why you’re here then? To see the real stuff happening?”

“Yes.” Magnus said earnestly. “Don’t forget, before I was working at the Palais, I had a long service history out in the field. On ships and stations. I’m not some sheltered bureaucrat who’s never been on the front lines.”

Phon laughed, “Like the Minister?”

Magnus raised his hands. “I didn’t say that.”

“We’re off the record.” Phon reminded him gently. “Say what you want.”

“Regardless, I’m not saying that.” Magnus affirmed. “It doesn’t do me any good criticising the Minister. I tune out that negativity.”

“Okay, so,” Phon lifted his shoulders, “What would you say, on the record?”

“If you’re serious, Phon, about talking about 109 and Delavi, we can do a sit down interview.” Magnus relented. He knew Gen and Ashra, and probably the Minister herself, was going to object, but that didn’t matter. “I want to talk about what happened, the heroes of that station, the situation out here on the fringes of the Federation.”

“I see.” Phon chewed over the suggestion.

“It’s an interesting story.” Magnus insisted. “I know it’s not your usual fair of gossip and rumours but people will want to know.”

Phon leaned back in his chair as he considered the offer. He chose to ignore the diplomat’s criticism of his journalism. “You’ll give me free questions? No pre-approval required?”

“Just don’t make it about feuds and Palais gossip.” Magnus shrugged, “And it will be an all-access interview with me, one on one. We could even do it in our new Embassy, when it’s finished.”

Phon nodded slowly, “That’s a good angle. But I don’t just deal in gossip, I’ll have you know.” Magnus tilted his head and raised his eyebrows, as if to say ‘Really?’ Phon chuckled and waved his hand in the space between them. “I can do an in-depth profile interview. I can.”

“Okay then.” Magnus replied. “Instead of you chasing me across the Expanse, let’s arrange a proper sit down interview. Back on SB109, in the new Federation Embassy.”

“I’ll have to run it past my editors.” Phon said cautiously, “But I think they’ll go for it. Won’t you need to get approval from the Minister? She likes to run all comms through her office.”

“I’ll sort it out.” Magnus said with a smile, having no intention of running to the Minister for approval. That was his story to tell, his experience on 109. He shook his head, “Won’t be a problem.”

Phon took a celebratory swig of his drink, the thick black liquid not going down as easily as he anticipated. He coughed for a moment, using a napkin to wipe his lips. “Ugh. They didn’t have any cocktails?”

Magnus scoffed. He took a slower, more careful sip of his drink and shrugged. “I guess not.” He looked over at Phon and frowned, “You knew I was going to be here, huh?”

“I’m good at my job, Magnus.” Phon said cagily.

“That’s what I’m worried about.” Magnus mused.

“It worked, didn’t it?” Phon replied, that smug little smirk returning to his lips. “Got the interview.”

Magnus couldn’t help but laugh: he had a point. “Let’s hope you tell a more honest story then.”

:OFF

 

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