Coy’s Internship: Parting the Clouds Epilogue
Posted on Tue Oct 28th, 2025 @ 12:16pm by Commander Rosa Coy
529 words; about a 3 minute read
Mission:
Character Development
Location: Shuttlebay
The Sunfire’s flight deck was quiet in the mid-morning sun, a rare calm settling over the bay. Holo-projections shimmered faintly against the walls, lingering echoes of the advanced situational runs. Rosa stood at attention, arms folded, scanning the consoles even though the lesson was over.
Sira approached, her uniform crisp, the gold of her rank pip newly polished. There was a confidence in her stride that hadn’t been there just days before, tempered now by experience, discipline, and the trust Rosa had helped instill.
“Commander Coy,” Sira said, her voice formal, precise, the cadet who had flown blind through simulated storms now standing at the cusp of her own Starfleet career. “I’ve been assigned to the USS Veyra. My posting begins immediately.”
Rosa’s chest tightened, the words filling the room like a sudden gust. “Ensign Sira,” she said, voice steady though her hands itched to reach out. “Congratulations. You’ve earned every accolade, every lesson learned, and then some.”
Sira inclined her head in respect. “Thank you, ma’am, for your guidance. Your trust… it’s what made me ready for this.”
Rosa exhaled slowly, letting the weight of mentorship settle. “You’ll do fine,” she said, her eyes softening. “Keep your instincts sharp. And remember, no simulation can teach you what real decisions will demand, but you’re ready for them.”
A silence stretched, formal, measured — the kind Starfleet demanded at farewells. Then Sira stepped forward just enough to brush Rosa’s shoulder, pressing a brief, warm peck to her cheek.
Rosa froze, caught off guard, then allowed herself the tiniest, private smile. “Thank you,” she whispered, voice quiet. Not protocol. Personal.
Sira nodded once, crisp and confident. “Fly safe, Commander.”
As Sira turned to depart, Jenna appeared at the edge of the deck, arms folded, one eyebrow raised in that familiar teasing way. Her gaze had caught the exchange, sharp and observant.
“Well,” she said casually, stepping closer, “looks like someone’s mentoring a fleet of cadets while keeping the sky company. Think you can handle a real patrol run?”
Rosa blinked, instinctively bracing for a challenge. “You mean… pilot to pilot, not instructor to cadet?”
“Exactly,” Jenna said, smirking. “No holograms, no neural interfaces. Just you, me, and a sector of space that doesn’t forgive mistakes.”
Rosa allowed herself a laugh, a sound lighter than it had been in days. “You’re on. Let’s see if I can still keep up with the Little Red Bird.”
Jenna’s grin widened, and without another word, she motioned to the shuttle bay. The two women walked side by side, boots echoing on the deck, leaving behind the quiet hum of the training bay, carrying the lessons, trust, and silent bonds into the open skies where they belonged.
“You’re ready,” Coy whispered faintly, somewhere deep in her consciousness. “For Sira. For Jenna. For yourself.”
Rosa’s lips curved, the faintest echo of relief in her chest. “I know,” she said softly. And with that, the hum of the Sunfire faded behind them as they prepared to chase sunlight, storms, and the promise of flight together.
END ?
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