In Search of Cintia Sha’mer
Posted on Tue Dec 9th, 2025 @ 7:26pm by Vice Admiral Sidra MacLaren & Rear Admiral Cintia Sha'mer
Edited on on Tue Dec 9th, 2025 @ 7:27pm
1,702 words; about a 9 minute read
Mission: Dreamdust
// Fleet Command Office //
The office felt smaller tonight.
It was large by design, fleet-level, lined with softly lit displays, a conference table she rarely used, a casual sitting area, and enough open floor to pace when she needed to. But none of it mattered. The air was too close, the walls too near, the silence too loud. Pressure gathered behind her ribs like a fist.
Indi was still struggling, sequestered in the temporary quarters.
Stephen at the Tavrik system on a mission, edging toward volatility.
Will at home, her son, patient, understanding, and yet she hadn’t given him nearly enough of her in days.
All of it pressed in like bulkheads slowly contracting.
Sidra exhaled, steady but not calm, and turned toward the single thing in the room that let her breathe, the massive viewport dominating the far wall. Space spilled outward in a quiet, endless swell. The station lights glinted off passing traffic, tiny sparks drifting along designated lanes. Beyond them lay the dark, the sprawling, indifferent galaxy that always reminded her she was just one small part of it.
It helped. Not much. But enough to get her back into her chair.
She had exhausted every channel she could justify, and several she couldn’t. Cintia Sha’mer, former Admiral, former colleague, spouse of Indi Hawk, had gone dark. Not off the grid in any formal sense, simply… absent. Drifting somewhere outside Starfleet’s formal reach.
Which meant Sidra had only one option left.
Ra’lin.
Ra’lin Sha’mer. She remembered her from Trilista Colony, quiet, but intensely curious, the kind of child whose eyes were always catching on the small details adults overlooked. Sidra hadn’t had Will then; her experience with children was… limited. She’d never known what to do with little ones except make sure they weren’t in danger.
Years later, she’d known Ra’lin again, an ensign aboard the USS Vindicator, though only from the outside. Sidra had been at Fleet Operations then, watching the ship cycle through its home port. The Vindicator carried many of the brass’ children, Ra’lin among them.
And when it disappeared, it had been Sidra who made the calls.
She’d never forgotten that weight.
And now she was a lieutenant. Operations Officer aboard the USS Arcturus.
Sidra drew a slow breath, settling her shoulders, letting the muscle memory of command, years of pressure, crises, and diplomacy, push down the anxious coil. She was good at this. She always had been. The fear, the guilt, the dread, they could wait. Right now, she needed answers.
She opened a secure channel.
The Federation emblem pulsed on the screen, the reflection of her own taut expression layered over it. For a long moment, she just watched the blinking indicator, feeling, irrationally, like it was counting down.
Then the connection resolved.
Ra’lin appeared, older now, those same clear eyes, that same guarded steadiness.
Sidra straightened.
“Lieutenant Sha’mer,” she said, voice low but controlled. “It’s been a long time.”
No small talk. No gentle lead-in. Only the necessary warmth of familiarity wrapped around the hard edge of urgency she wasn’t yet prepared to reveal.
“I need your help finding your mother.”
It was irregular to get a direct call from Fleet Operations.
It was even more irregular to get a direct call from Fleet Ops, not directed at the Arcturus or at her CO, but at Lieutenant Ra’lin Sha’mer, directly. That generally hinted at bad news. Bad how? She didn’t have much of a social life outside of Starfleet, most of her friends or acquaintances served themselves, either on a ship or a station. But even if something had happened to a close friend, news would be sent through formal channels.
She touched the console and watched the screen come alive. The face which formed was a familiar one, though older than when she had seen her last, a face from a childhood spent on a small colony at the edge of Federation space, a colony which frequently found itself to be in the thick of things – reading the reports, once she had been admitted to Starfleet herself, had been curiously enlightening.
At seeing that image, Ra’lin felt the professional mask fall over her features, hiding the rest of her underneath it. “Admiral.” It wasn’t really possible to come to attention while seated, but what she did was a close approximation of it.
The admiral’s next words, however, made her eyebrows rise. “Last I heard, my mother is still in the Vo’Sh’un Empire.” And had been none too happy at having to go there. It had taken an urgent plea from Sha’mer’s sister, Ra’lin’s aunt, for her to even consider it. That had been… let’s see… slightly over a year ago. “I should be able to get hold of her. Are you at liberty to tell me why?” It didn’t take a telepath to see something was seriously bothering the admiral, even beside the ‘I need your mother’. What could possibly-
No. She knew. Ra’lin’s mind could come up with several other explanations, each just as logical as the rest, but in her heart she knew. Something to do with Admiral Hawk.
Something bad.
Sidra saw the way Ra’lin’s eyebrows rose and only then realized how blunt she had been. No easing into it, no buffer, no space for the young officer to brace herself. Just I need your mother, like a phaser blast fired point-blank.
She drew in a slow, steadying breath, her eyes flicking briefly to the stars beyond her viewport before returning to the woman on the screen.
“Sorry,” Sidra said quietly. “I was direct. More than I meant to be.”
A pause, brief but deliberate.
“This pertains to Admiral Hawk.”
Another breath, slower this time.
“She’s…” How to explain without betraying Indi further. Sidra had not, in the short time Indi had been assigned here, gotten out of her much about her current status with Cintia. Only that they were still together, still connected in whatever way that bond worked. “It’s complicated.”
She did not elaborate; she could not.
“Your mother may be the only one who can help her.”
Her voice remained level and professional, the mask firmly in place, but the strain beneath it was no longer hidden.
There was a slight nod from Ra'lin as her suspicion was confirmed. No details. Something which required her mother. Bad, then.
"I will give my mother a hail. No idea how long it will take her to answer, let alone how long it'll take her to arrive." Ra'lin was fortunate in that the private vessel which had belonged, at one time, to her aunt, was now stored inside a corner of the landing bay of USS Arcturus. Fortunate that it was the only ship with Vo'Sh'un technology in the entire Federation, at least as far as Ra'lin knew. She would be able to use it to send a message to the Empire.
Sidra felt the tension in her spine ease only enough to let her breathe. Ra’lin understood. She had put the pieces together with minimal information, sharper than Sidra remembered but unmistakably her mother’s daughter.
“Thank you,” Sidra said, and meant it. “Any attempt to reach her is more than I had ten minutes ago.”
Another thought struck her. "How critical is this? Is time a factor?"
Ra’lin’s second question hung there, heavy and fair.
Sidra hesitated just long enough to choose her words with care.
“Yes,” she said quietly. “It is.”
“The sooner the better. Whatever is happening to her is beyond anything our doctors can treat.”
The admission sat between them, and in the moment it left her mouth, Sidra felt the truth of it settle like cold weight in her chest. It was the first time she allowed herself to think it plainly. She was not in control of this. She could not force it, muscle through it, or command it into order.
And she might lose Indi. Not physically, but lose her all the same.
She cleared her throat and continued.
“Tell her to call me. I can fill her in.”
Sidra softened her tone then, enough to acknowledge what she was asking without burdening Ra’lin with it.
“I know this is a lot, and I know I am not being very open with you. Your mother and Indi will explain what they choose to. I appreciate you reaching out to her for us.”
A quiet sincerity edged into her voice.
“Thank you, Lieutenant. Truly.”
Another of those brisk nods. Ra'lin had learned, over time, to keep her emotions in check. Right now, part of her was very glad for those lessons. The mask didn't shatter, either. "Understood, Admiral. I will send a message and will let you know when I receive an answer."
If she would receive one, to begin with. If not… Ra'lin clenched her jaw, then forced herself to relax. Before any further cracks would be displayed, she added a simple, formal, "Lieutenant Sha'mer out," and closed the channel.
No. The time for worry would be later. First things first. Ra'lin left her quarters and dashed through the ship, making for a distant corner of the landing bay.
The screen went dark, leaving the office quiet again. Sidra let out a slow breath and turned back toward the stars. For the first time all day, it felt as if one of the three walls pressing in on her had stopped moving. Not gone. Not fixed. But paused long enough to breathe.
Ra’lin was reaching out to Cintia. That piece was in motion.
Which meant Sidra could finally turn to the next one herself.
She rose from her chair, shoulders settling with something that resembled steadiness.
Stephen was still out in the Tavrik system. Indi was still fighting whatever held her down. But Will… Will she could show up for tonight.
And that, at least, she could control.
Lt Ra’lin Sha’mer
Operations Officer
USS Arcturus
Abp Sha’mer
Vice Admiral Sidra MacLaren
Fleet Commader
Epsilon Fleet
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