Watching Paint Dry

Posted on Fri Sep 18th, 2026 @ 11:45am by Commodore Wilkan Targaryen & Chief Petty Officer Kiera Targaryen

1,668 words; about a 8 minute read

Mission: 11. Recess
Location: U.S.S. Enterprise
Timeline: 2439-10-21, 07:45

With her shift over in Sickbay Kiera made her way to her uncle’s quarters, she figured now shoreleave had been announced that he’d be at home enjoying a well earned rest. She just hoped he wouldn’t mind her dropping by. Arriving at the door she paused then pressed the chime. She waited for a little while not getting an answer.

“Computer, where is Commodore Targaryen?”

“The Commodore is in the Ready Room.” Came the ever clear and concise voice of the computer in response.

“Of course” Kiera shook her head and headed for the bridge, heavens knows why her uncle would choose to stay in his Ready Room instead of his own quarters. Eventually arriving outside the door she pressed the chime.

Inside the Ready Room, Commodore Wilkan Targaryen stood at the transparent aluminum viewport, a steaming cup of dark, unadulterated tea held firmly in one hand. Sunlight from Karemma's twin suns bled through the glass, casting sharp shadows across the room. The room around him was quiet, bathed in the soft glow of active LCARS terminals and flanked by his cherished mementos from his long career. His two dogs lay nearby in the living area, undisturbed by the early hour. Though he had issued the all-hands shore leave announcement at 03:00 hours, Wilkan had not slept; his 154 years of life and El-Aurian/Lanthanite hybrid physiology allowed him to process the lingering fatigue of the Iocarro crisis with a quiet, clinical focus.

The door chime beeped softly behind him, but neither Wilkan nor the dogs jumped. He instead set his cup down on the corner of his large, curved desk, right beside the gleaming Vulcan Kal-toh set gifted to him by Seven of Nine. He smoothed the jacket of his uniform, maintaining his characteristic disciplined posture fully prepared for whatever administrative or personal detail required his attention before the morning shift swung into full gear.

"Enter," Wilkan called out, his voice carrying smooth, unshakeable authority across the quiet suite.

Walking in Kiera offered a warm smile. “Forgive me for interrupting your personal time. I tried your quarters, but you obviously weren’t there. I was wondering if you had any plans for shoreleave?”

Wilkan gestured toward one of the comfortable chairs opposite of the desk, his posture measured and unyielding as ever.

"None," he answered simply, his deep voice smooth and measured. "My plans begin and end right here aboard the ship. Someone has to maintain command while the rest of the crew takes advantage of the leave rotation." He took a slow sip of his tea, setting the mug back down beside the Kal-toh set on his desk. "The ship needs to be in absolute peak readiness before we push further into the Gamma Quadrant. Between reviewing battle-damage logs from Iocarro, coordinating security protocols with Karemma orbital authorities, and overseeing maintenance schedules, I have more than enough to keep me occupied."

He offered her a brief, controlled nod, a subtle softening in his expression acknowledging his niece. "And what about you, Kiera? I assume you're not planning to spend your entire leave wandering around Deck 1."

“I don’t have any specific plans, actually I was hoping to spend some time with you.” Kiera offered a smile. “It’s been a long time since we last had chance to spend family time together.”

"Family time," Wilkan repeated, his deep, resonant voice carrying the quiet weight of a man who had lived through a century and a half of Starfleet service, war, and political exile. "I would like nothing more, Kiera," Wilkan said smoothly, stepping out from behind the desk. "However, my decision to stay aboard isn't merely about administrative duty. The Department of Temporal Investigations is coming to conduct a formal review of the temporal anomalies and causality shifts logged during the Iocarro crisis."

"Given my... complicated history with Starfleet oversight and redacted reports, a visit from Temporal Investigations is best handled with absolute, clinical focus - and without unnecessary audience," Wilkan explained, his tone measured and pragmatic as his two dogs lazily raised their heads at his approach. "They'll pull apart every sensor log and temporal variance, and I intend to be sitting in this chair to ensure the inquiry remains precise and contained."

"You, however, should take full advantage of the shore leave," Wilkan recommended. "There are more than a few planetside excursions planned, I suggest you accompany one."

“Ohh that’s a shame” Kiera couldn’t help but look and feel disappointed. “I understand your reasons, I guess I was just hoping we’d get some time together.” She sighed. “I’ve only just arrived onboard so I don’t really need to go off on shoreleave, I’ll probably just hang out in my quarters and get them sorted how I want them.”

"Getting your quarters settled is a reasonable priority," Wilkan answered, "However... you will not be spending your entire leave period isolated in them." He walked over to his workstation, tapping a few commands into the LCARS interface to pull up the Federation database on Karemma. "Since the crew is heading down for leave, I thought they could help out with a minor administrative oversight while enjoying themselves," Wilkan continued, a subtle trace of dry humor touching his voice. "Starfleet’s planetary database on Karemma hasn't had an update in years. The travel guides are hopelessly obsolete. So, as part of our responsibilities, I'm having the off-duty teams update the database while they relax."

“Really? Updating a database? Sounds more like watching paint dry!” Kiera added with a wry smile. “I’m a medical specialist, or am I being lumped with updating the medical database?”

"Hardly," Wilkan said, a faint, dry twitch touching the corner of his lip. "You're assigned to Operation Group Gamma under Commander zh'Roothi," Wilkan informed her, his voice returning to its smooth, measured cadence. "You'll be evaluating public health standards, emergency response readiness, and local culinary safety across high-density night spots." He leaned back slightly against the edge of his desk, crossing his arms, "Most people on the Second Contact ships would kill for this particular job."

Kiera nodded and gave a wry smiled. “So that includes getting to sample some of the local delicacies to see if they’re good or not? Good job I’ve got well over 100 years of experience tucked under my belt.”

"Then consider your century of experience well-utilized," Wilkan said smoothly, his deep, resonant voice filling the quiet suite. "Evaluating public health and emergency readiness in high-density civilian sectors requires a keen eye. One that isn't easily swayed by the local nightlife."

He paused, resting one hand lightly on the edge of his desk beside the Kal-toh set, his expression shifting into a more strategic one. "Which brings me to an additional mandate for you, Kiera," Wilkan continued, his gaze locking onto hers, "I want you to keep an eye on Lieutenant Commander Bernadotte while you are planetside." He picked up his tea, taking a measured sip before setting it back down. "Sora is exceptional at what she does, don't get me wrong, but I have some concerns after the last mission that her judgment can lean heavily toward the reckless - a trait that doesn't pair well with the volatile political and criminal undercurrents of the Karemma trade hubs. Commander zh'Roothi and Lieutenant Rrawran will have their hands full maintaining security, but I need someone grounded to ensure she doesn't turn a simple survey assignment into an interstellar incident or a street brawl."

Kiera nodded. “I see, I’ll do my upmost to make sure that doesn’t happen, without being disrespectful to the Commander. She won’t even know I’m keeping an eye on her.”

"I expect nothing less," Wilkan replied as he turned back toward the viewport, picking up his tea once more as the Karemman sunlight caught the edge of his uniform. "Discretion is paramount. Commander Bernadotte does not need a minder; she needs a steadying presence who can defuse a situation before it escalates. Maintain your role as medical observer, keep Group Gamma on schedule, and ensure everyone returns to the ship in one piece, but don't forget" Wilkan continued, "enjoy your time on the surface, Doctor. Dismissed."

“I will, and Aye Sir!” Kiera gave a nod of her head and a smile before she turned to leave her uncle. “Oh one more thing I’ll also be keeping an eye on you. Mum gave me orders to make sure you aren’t overdoing it, after all it won’t hurt for you to get a rest once in a while.” With that she carried on leaving him to think about it.

"Tell Geimed that Vice Admiral or not, her authority over my schedule ended when we left the academy," Wilkan replied, the slight twitch at the corner of his jaw was the only sign that her parting volley had landed. "Please share with her that she and Dovrun can submit their concerns through standard fleet channels."

He set his mug back down beside the Kal-toh set, "Dismissed, Chief, and enjoy Karemma."

“Thank you Sir!” Kiera offered a salute with a smile, then paused. “For what it’s worth those were the worries of a sister for her brother, not a vice admiral about a fellow officer.” She nodded then headed on her way leaving Wilkan to think that one over.

Wilkan watched the door close behind his niece, his posture remaining rigid as her parting words echoed through the quiet room.

A sister's worry, not an Admiral's order.

He didn't move for a long moment, his attention fixed on the empty doorway while the twin suns of Karemma continued their slow ascent outside the viewport. He knew Geimed. He knew her capacity for concern, just as he knew his own capacity to absorb it, process it clinically, and set it aside in favor of duty.

With a low, measured breath, Wilkan turned back to his desk and started working again.

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