In the Air Tonight

Posted on Sun Mar 15th, 2026 @ 3:07pm by Captain Wilkan Targaryen & Elara Jyn

3,021 words; about a 15 minute read

Mission: Prologue
Location: Residence of Wilkan Targaryen, New Aur
Timeline: 3190-11-01

Wilkan remained by the arched window long after the echo of Illa’s footsteps had faded from the stone corridor. In the sudden vacuum of her departure, the geothermal hum of New Aur rushed back in, but it no longer felt like a sanctuary. It felt like a shroud.

On the stone table, the TriCom badge gleamed; an oval of brushed silver and gold, its surface etched with four pips along the right edge that marked a rank he had long since tried to bury. He didn't pick it up immediately. Instead, he stood in the twilight, his shadow stretching thin across the floor, mulling over the structural cost of his decision.

To put on that badge was to acknowledge that the silence of the last century had been a lie. It was an admission that his clinical detachment was not a state of peace, but a state of waiting. If he accepted Vance’s bargain, he was inviting the "noise" of a fractured Federation back into his psyche - the political maneuvering of an Earth Council that didn't know its own mind, and the terrifying, fragile hope of a 28th-century handshake signal.

He looked down at his hands, steady and ancient. He thought of Elara Jyn in the levels below. She was his ward, a vibrant mix of two worlds who deserved a life beyond the thin air of this spire. He had protected her by keeping her stationary, but the Sulaco, refitted for a new era of exploration, offered a different kind of protection: a purpose.

The logic was unassailable, even if the sentiment was dangerous.

Wilkan reached for the badge, his fingers finally closing around the oval of silver and gold. The four pips etched into the side caught the amber light, a silent reminder of the rank and responsibility he had attempted to leave behind in the ruins of the old Federation.

He pressed the TriCom against his chest.

The transformation was silent and clinical. From the contact point of the badge, a shimmer of programmable matter cascaded across his frame. It consumed the charcoal-grey robes of his exile, replacing them with a precision-engineered grey jacket and matching pants. As the matter solidified, a stark red vertical stripe manifested over the right side of the jacket, slashing through the neutral grey with the color of Command.

Wilkan stood still, the new fabric settling against his skin with a weight that felt like an old, heavy truth. He remained focused on his reflection in the arched window, adjusting to the sight of a man he hadn't seen in a century. He was once again the Ice Pilot, the foundation upon which a fractured galaxy might be rebuilt.

"The silence is over," he whispered, his voice a dry rasp against the glass.

Only then did he register a shift in the room’s resonance. Behind him, the chaotic, vibrant thrum of Elara Jyn had entered the space. The twenty-two-year-old Betazoid/El-Aurian hybrid stood near the threshold, her presence a turbulent mix of confusion and sudden realization. She had witnessed the robes vanish and the uniform take hold, seeing for the first time the true silhouette of the man who had been her silent, distant protector.

Wilkan remained still, his eyes fixed on her reflection in the glass rather than turning to face the sudden intrusion of her vibrant, questioning energy. The red vertical stripe on his new gray jacket seemed to glow in the light of the spire, a stark contrast to the muted stone around them.

Remaining with his back to her, Wilkan spoke evenly, "I'm sorry, I didn't notice you standing there."

His voice, though still carrying the dry rasp of disuse, had regained a measure of the "subsonic" authority that had once commanded fleets across the 24th and 28th centuries. He watched her in the reflection, his clinical gaze taking in the turbulent mix of her Betazoid and El-Aurian heritage, the very traits that made her a jagged reminder of the family he had lost to the Great Void.

Elara looked at the man speaking to her. "Thank you for seeing me," she said after a few minutes. She wasn't exactly sure how to address why the man has summoned her. Standing still, she searched with her telepathy. Wilkan was mostly silent. That silence felt like soothing balm on a scratch. Over the years, she had grown accustomed to the quiet hum of emotions and feelings from her surroundings, in the back of her mind. It had taken a lot of time in the orphanage to learn to filter at least some of it out. She wasn't drowning in emotions and thoughts, as she nearly had growing up.

"Is there something I can do for you?" she finally asked. Would it be rude to say she had a book ready?, she wondered. Technically, it was on her padd, but still. Stories were stories. Knowledge was knowledge. She had read about the books that were once used. To be fair, she had managed to get a hold on an old book. It was beyond interesting to see how it was pieced together.

Wilkan turned away from the window, the movement so fluid it barely disturbed the newly formed fabric of his uniform. The four gold pips on his chest caught the light as he faced her, his expression a mask of clinical observation that hid the sudden, sharp ache of memory her presence always stirred. He looked at her not as a ward, but as a component of a new, necessary equation.

"You can prepare your belongings, Elara," he said, his voice holding the low-frequency weight of a man who had already mapped the next several light-years in his mind. "The book you are holding, and any others you have collected, should be secured for transport. We are leaving New Aur."

Elara nodded her understanding. "I'll gather my things. I should be ready within an hour or so," she said. Knowing that her life was about to change big time, she excused herself and went to her quarters to pack her things. Not that there was a lot to pack. She had always preferred a simple life. Only the most necessary clothes. If it wasn't practical and comfortable, she didn't have it. She had a few antique books and a necklace she had bought for herself right after aging out of the system at age 18. A small set of wings. She had bought that one to remind herself that she had made it this far, with little help.

Leaving New Aur was going to be interesting. She never been far beyond the city and its orphanage. Going into the unknown, while it seemed a bit daunting, was also exciting. She was looking forward to the future. Wilkan seemed to know she needed something new. A change of pace. It was reassuring that she wasn't going alone. Having been on her own before Wilkan found her, it had taken her some time to trust the man. Now? She knew he wasn't going anywhere anytime soon.

She finished packing a duffel bag with her clothes, and found containers for her things. That done, within a mere 45 minutes, she grabbed her things and returned to Wilkan. "I'm ready," she announced. "I left 1 container with my things. I have marked it for transport."

Wilkan gave a short, clinical nod of acknowledgment. He watched her for a moment, picking up the steady, rhythmic pulse of her newfound resolve. Though his face remained a mask of detached composure, he recognized the significance of the small set of wings she wore, a quiet testament to a journey she had begun long before he stepped into her life.

"Your efficiency is noted," Wilkan said, his voice carrying the resonant authority of the command he had just reclaimed. "The container will be beamed directly to the Sulaco. For now, we move."

He gestured toward the door, the red vertical stripe on his gray jacket catching the light of the spire one last time. As they descended the stone stairs, the air of the Listening District felt increasingly thin, no longer a sanctuary but a relic of a life he was leaving behind.

"The Sulaco is a Crossfield Class starship. She has been refitted with an enhanced drive system that can traverse distances that would have taken the old warp engines months to cross." He didn't look back at her, but his words were deliberate. "You will find the laboratory facilities significantly more advanced than anything you've experienced here on New Aur. I expect you to familiarize yourself with the sensor arrays immediately upon arrival. You are no longer a student of the past, Elara. You are the Science Officer of a ship that is about to define the future."

They reached the docking port where a sleek, Starfleet Shuttle sat waiting, its surfaces shimmering with programmable matter. The transport pilot stood at attention as they approached.

Elara followed Wilkan to the shuttle. This was it. Away from New Aur, away from all she had grown up in, and known, up until now, she was going to learn new things. Meeting new people would probably be tough. Her socializing skills weren't the best. But when it came to leaning new things, she was beyond excited. She squared her shoulders and stood a little taller than she had before. She had work to do. Time to prove, to herself, others, and Wilkan, that she was up for the task.

Just the prospect of getting her hands on new technology, or old ones she might not have seen before, almost had her as excited as a child at the human holiday "Christmas." She had read about that holiday once and wondered why the children got so excited. Anyways, the comparison seemed to slightly resemble what she was feeling. "I'm ready," she announced.

The shuttle hatch hissed open, revealing a cabin bathed in soft, recessed blue light. At the helm, Illa Dax didn't just sit; she seemed to occupy the pilot’s chair with a restless, vibrant energy that made the entire craft feel more alive. As Wilkan and Elara stepped inside, she spun the chair around, her expression bright and distinctly chipper.

"Well, look at you!" Dax exclaimed, her eyes dancing over Wilkan’s new uniform. She gave a playful, two-finger salute toward the red command stripe. "The 'Ice Pilot' returns. I have to say, Wilkan, the 32nd Century cut suits you. It’s much more 'Galactic Negotiator' and much less 'Grumpy Hermit.'"

Wilkan moved to the forward observation terminal with a precision that ignored her levity. "The schedule is tight, Dax. Let’s not add unnecessary delay to the Admiral's timeline."

"Oh, come on, Wilkan. We’re about to break the laws of physics in a ship that shouldn't exist. If you can't be a little excited, I’ll have to be excited for both of us," she teased, turning back to the console. Her fingers moved with practiced flair across the shimmering programmable matter. "Buckle up, everyone. We’re departing New Aur. I’d tell you to look out the window, but we’re going to be in high orbit before you can finish a sentence."

The shuttle lifted with a near-silent whine of inertial dampeners. Dax hummed a jaunty, syncopated tune as she eased the throttle forward, banking the craft sharply, a maneuver far more aggressive and spirited than Starfleet regulations required.

"Course locked for the Sulaco," Dax announced, her voice lilted with infectious enthusiasm. "ETA is two minutes. I'm taking the scenic route, which mostly means I'm going to try not to scare the local birds on the way out." As they cleared the violet haze of the atmosphere and the velvet black of space rushed in to meet them, the sun was suddenly eclipsed by a massive, sharp silhouette holding position in the planet’s shadow.

The USS Sulaco was a vision of aggressive elegance. Her detached nacelles hummed with a crystalline lattice of blue energy, and her hull, dark and shimmering with modern plating, looked like a predator poised for a strike.

Wilkan stood up, his gaze fixed on the starship that was once his home and was now his mission. He looked toward the girl standing near the viewport. "The Sulaco is the second vessel in the fleet to utilize a functional Spore Drive," he said, his voice regaining its deep, subsonic resonance. "You are the Science Officer of a miracle, Elara. Do not waste the opportunity."

Dax laughed softly, her hands steady as she brought the shuttle into alignment with the shimmering blue atmospheric field of the Sulaco's hangar bay. "Miracle? Giving the kid a lot to live up to aren't you?"

"She is a survivor, Dax. Miracles are simply what happens when a survivor meets the right technology," Wilkan said, his voice a low, steady thrum. He turned his head slightly toward Elara, his brown eyes piercing and expectant.

As the shuttle glided into the Sulaco’s hangar, the shimmering blue of the atmospheric field washed over the cockpit glass, casting the interior in a cold, ethereal light. Wilkan stood tall, his gaze fixed on the girl who carried the weight of two ancient worlds.

Illa Dax’s smile didn’t falter, but her eyes softened. She looked at the two of them - one a relic of the past, the other a hope for the future - and felt the ancient thrum of her symbiont vibrate with a memory of a hundred different goodbyes.

"Actually, Wilkan," Illa said, her voice dropping the frantic, chipper energy for something far more grounded. "I think she’s the only one who isn't intimidated by you. She’s been listening to your silence for years. A little Spore Drive hum is probably a welcome change of pace." She brought the shuttle to a perfectly smooth landing, but didn't leave yet. Instead, she turned toward Elara first.

"You're going to be brilliant," she said, a flash of Curzon’s confidence in her eyes. "Don't let him tell you science is just math and don't let him try to intimidate you. In the here and now, science is the only way we keep the ghosts at bay."

Elara smiled to the woman. "Knowledge isn't a constant. Just like other things, situations, or people, knowledge evolves. Just because it makes sense today, doesn't mean it's the same tomorrow. That's what makes me love learning", she said. "I'm looking forward to the future. Past is the past, and while we can't change it, it can teach us something to use in the future. And the future? Who knows?", she shrugged. "We'll see what it holds and whether it's a storm to survive, or a natural disaster to do damage control on".

Then, she turned to Wilkan. The playful teasing was gone. She reached out and placed a hand on his arm in a gesture of familiarity that only a Dax would dare. "Listen to her, Wilkan," Illa whispered, her voice a low vibration that only an El-Aurian could truly parse. "You’ve spent enough time listening to the dead. Listen to the living for a change. She isn't a variable to be controlled; she’s the reason you’re picking up that handshake from the void."

Wilkan didn't pull away. For a micro-second, his mask flickered, revealing the weary, ancient traveler beneath. He gave a single, stiff nod. It wasn't an admission, it was a promise.

"I have noted your recommendation, Dax," Wilkan rasped.

Illa grinned, the Cardassian ridges of her brow crinkling. "Good. Because if I hear you’ve been a 'Grumpy Hermit' to your Science Officer, I’ll have Vance assign me to the Sulaco just to hum Gilbert and Sullivan in your Ready Room for three months straight." She stepped toward the hatch, pausing to look back one last time. "Safe travels, Old Man. Bring them home."

The hatch hissed open. The air of the Sulaco rushed in. It didn't taste of New Aur’s minerals or the shuttle’s ozone, it tasted of cold tritanium, programmable matter, and the vast, open potential of a galaxy that was finally wide enough to explore again.

"Are you ready to go?" Wilkan asked before they exitted, but the question wasn't entirely for Elara. It was just as poignant for him as the future tried to call him home.

Elara looked from Illa to Wilkan. They clearly had some history between them. "I'm ready", she said as she squared her shoulders. It was time to leave the only home she had ever known behind and do something new. Ever since Wilkan had taken her under his wings, she had learned a lot. Realized a lot. And had learned to trust. Only Wilkan though. Maybe she would learn to trust others in the future. But so far, 90% of the people she had met had had a hidden agenda. It was refreshing to not being able to hear Wilkan's thoughts and emotions. That quiet meant a lot to her. It was soothing for her.

The shuttle hatch hissed open, and the air of the Sulaco - sterile, recycled, and alive with the high-frequency hum of the Spore Drive - rushed in to meet them. It was the scent of duty, a sharp contrast to the stagnant mineral dust of the New Aur spires. Wilkan stood at the threshold, his gaze fixed on the expansive hangar bay.

"Then the transition begins now," Wilkan said. His voice had lost its dry rasp, replaced by the resonant, subsonic chime of a commanding officer. "The silence is behind us, Elara, from this moment on, we are the noise."

He stepped onto the deckplates, his boots striking the metal with a cadence that triggered the ship’s welcome chime. The energy of the Sulaco hummed beneath their feet, a predator no longer waiting, but prepared to leap. He didn't look back at Dax or the shuttle; his focus was already on the turbolift that would carry him to the bridge, and eventually, to the edge of the Great Void.

 

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