Aunt on the Line
Posted on Fri May 30th, 2025 @ 11:53am by Commander Hiro Sommers-Yoshida
945 words; about a 5 minute read
Mission:
Episode 9: Across Time
Location: Deep Space 21, Ops, Hiro’s Office
ON:
The screen on Commander Hiro Sommers-Yoshida’s desk lit up with a soft chime, just as Alpha Shift was winding down aboard Deep Space 21. The emblem of Starfleet appeared, crisp and official, before text overlaid itself in a muted silver:
INCOMING SUBSPACE TRANSMISSION
U.S.S. KINTSUGI, NCC-69945
CAPTAIN MIZUKI YOSHIDA
STARDATE: 78410.0
Hiro leaned forward slightly, recognizing the call sign even before the name fully resolved. He tapped the console to accept it.
The screen changed to reveal the familiar Ready Room of the Kintsugi, neat and functional, with a single model starship mounted behind the desk. And there, framed by the soft light of her display panels, sat Captain Mizuki Yoshida. His aunt, his guardian, and in many ways, the woman who had made him the man he was.
“There’s my favorite nephew-slash-son-slash-Commander,” Mizuki greeted, her voice warm and tinged with amusement. Her dark eyes softened with pride as they landed on his face. “I was going to wait for a scheduled check-in, but the Kintsugi is ahead of schedule for once, and I figured I’d catch you just before Alpha Shift ended. Hope I’m not pulling you from a crisis, or a fresh pot of raktajino.”
Hiro smiled despite himself. “I think I do know how proud you are, Aunt Mizuki. You’ve never exactly been subtle about it.”
He relaxed in his chair, letting the tension from the long shift ease out of his shoulders. “You’re not interrupting anything important, just the aftermath of a damage control drill that got a little too…immersive. Tactical decided to simulate hull breach protocols, and someone thought real paint would make it more ‘authentic.’ We had to seal off a corridor to clean it up.”
He gestured toward an empty mug. “And as for the raktajino, just finished my second cup of this day. So your timing’s impeccable, as always.”
Mizuki chuckled. “That’s a Yoshida skill, not a Starfleet one.” She leaned forward slightly, resting her arms on her desk. “Damage control drills already? You’re running that station like it’s your own ship. Good. That place needs someone with heart, not just a title. You’re not just filling a uniform out there, Hiro, you’re shaping something.”
Her tone shifted, a spark of curiosity lighting her eyes. “Now. About this experimental ship they’ve assigned to Deep Space 21. Starfleet Command was quite sparse on detail. What’s her name? Registry?”
She smirked faintly. “Don’t make me pull rank to get details out of you, Commander.”
Hiro laughed. “I was waiting for that question. Official as of yesterday, she’s the USS Magawa. Pathfinder-class. NX-96122.”
He let the name hang in the air a moment, as if he still wasn’t quite used to saying it.
“She’s beautiful. Fast, versatile, adaptable. Built for exploration, with enough modular design to support just about any mission we can imagine out here. She’s docked already. Crew transfers start in a few days.”
He hesitated, then added with a wry smile, “If I didn’t already have my hands full with the station, I’d be tempted to do a test run right now.”
“NX-registry,” Mizuki said, the words slow and impressed. “Still wet behind the nacelles.”
She nodded, visibly pleased. “Starfleet’s putting serious trust in you. Or maybe they’re just smart enough to recognize who they can trust with a ship like that.”
Then her expression softened, the professional edge slipping into something more maternal.
“Do you remember when you were ten, and you tried to rebuild that broken tricorder I brought back from that mission on Andoria?” she asked. “You insisted it would work again if you rerouted the isomagnetic field coils.”
Hiro couldn’t help but laugh. “You let me tinker with that thing for weeks. Even after I overloaded the kitchen replicator trying to power it.”
“You always wanted to fix the broken things,” she said gently. “And now? Now you’re not just fixing things, you’re building something new.”
There was a long moment of quiet between them, not uncomfortable, but full of shared memory. Finally, Hiro said, “I wouldn’t be here without you. You gave me room to be curious, and the structure I needed to grow. You were more than a guardian. You were my captain, even back then.”
“I still am, some days,” Mizuki said with a faint smile.
Her eyes softened. “I’ll swing by when we pass through your sector again. I want to see the station with my own eyes. And this experimental ship of yours. Just… don’t be too generous with the paint, alright?”
“I’ll make sure the tactical officers keep their brushes holstered,” Hiro promised with a grin. Then, more seriously: “Thanks for calling. With everything going on, I needed this.”
“So did I.” she replied. Then, with a breath, she leaned back and began tapping controls out of view. “Duty calls. Stay sharp, Hiro. And don’t forget, you’ve still got family in the fleet.”
“I know. And you’ll always be more than just family, Aunt Mizuki,” he said, nodding deeply. “You’re my Captain. No matter what pip I wear.”
“Always,” she said quietly. “Yoshida out.”
The screen faded back to the Starfleet emblem, the hum of the station returning to full volume in Hiro’s office. He sat for a moment longer, staring at the darkened console, the faintest of smiles lingering on his face.
Then he stood, straightened his uniform, and turned toward the window, toward the stars beyond, and the future waiting just outside.
Commander Hiro Sommers-Yoshida
CO Deep Space 21
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