Sister and Brother
Posted on Sun Dec 21st, 2025 @ 7:11am by Lieutenant Devin Hadenbeer
1,895 words; about a 9 minute read
SEVEN OR SO YEARS AGO…
“All right,” Devin snapped commandingly to the collection of teenagers and adolescents in the auditorium, “That was not terrible.” her smile took the sting out of the lackluster praise and she was greeted with a few smiles, “I can tell whom amongst us is practicing and whom are assuming they know the piece by heart.” She gently tapped the podium with her wand and stated, “We will run through just one more time today and then I shall release you into the wild. Positions! And…”
Devin strolled home after the rehearsal. They were wonderful children, enthusiastic. Not all of them were good musicians but they were trying. By week’s end she thought she would be able eke out a decent performance from the more mediocre ones. There were a few flashes of brilliance amongst them and she hoped she could convince them to seriously consider a career in music.
She paused and took a moment to admire the memorial to the deceased. Each city and town that lost loved ones to the alien parasites that had attacked the planet and enslaved the populace had something to commemorate the fallen, be it a humble plaque or a statue. In this case there was a bronze Constitution class vessel in mid-flight over a base denoting the names of everyone in this city who had passed, with the words, “With gratitude to the crew of the Enterprise and Starfleet.”
Devin knew she should stop torturing herself by these unconscious detours to this display, which was to her a monument to her old life, now gone. It still hurt terribly, even years later.
Her comm sounded. Not the familiar chirp of a Starfleet communicator but a civilian whistle that annoyed her no end. She withdrew the small disc from her pocket and murmured, “Devin.”
“You are coming to dinner tonight.”
Ulfric. Devin sighed, “I’m bu-”
“No, you are not. You are going to sit in your cottage and stare at all the PADDs full of unfinished music, feeling sorry for yourself, then you will play scales for an hour and then decide whether or not tonight is a good night to get drunk.”
Well…damn. He was on point, “Elfin doesn’t like me.”
“You and my wife can be civil to one another for an hour.”
“...Fine.”
“Fine. See you at seven.”
Devin reached her modest cottage and stepped inside to scandalous clutter. She had been such a tidy person, in a past life. Everything had its place, then. Her parents, then Starfleet had drilled the habit into her. Now as Ulfric had pointed out her cottage, much like her life, was a mess. Sighing, she sat down at the piano and gently lifted the top and caressed the keys. Sometimes inspiration came and she wrote down some stray bit of music…which went nowhere in the end. Today…there was nothing. Sighing, Devin began her scales-
There was a knock on the door. Devin frowned. She never had unscheduled visitors. Ever. Perhaps it was one of the students? She rose from the piano bench and approached the door and opened it.
He was the most average man Devin had ever seen. His face, his hair, his dress. He was utterly, thoroughly bland and unremarkable. Devin was certain if someone had asked to describe him later she would be unable to do so. Even his smile seemed to be mathematically calculated to unimpress.
“Devin Hadenbeer,” he said, stepping past her into the cottage, “My name is Sharp. I am here with a job offer.”
Devin closed the door and turned to the man, “I have a j-”
“Music teacher, yes. Very nice. Very normal. You are not normal. This is an ignoble end for a former Starfleet Captain.”
“Mister Sharp-”
“I am a very busy man so let’s get to it: I can get your dishonorable discharge wiped away. I can provide you with an opportunity to get back into Starfleet. I cannot guarantee you could get a command, but I can provide you with a chance. Worst case, with the discharge gone you could get a job as a civilian captain. You would have opportunities.”
Devin felt her heart start to hammer in her chest. The man was manipulating her. Promising her what she most desperately wanted. It was working.
“Are you Starfleet Intelligence?” she finally asked.
“Nope,” Sharp replied, and his grin was like a mischievous school boy, “We…legally exist but very few people are aware of us. Normally we would handle this problem ourselves but we need someone like you, who is disgraced but nevertheless competent and reliable that would be an ideal candidate to join the crew of a ship belonging to a particular person of interest.”
“I see. And why would they hire me?”
“We are going to create a vacancy.”
“Ah.”
Sharp glanced about the cottage, “Can we sit down and discuss details, or am I going to have to use the hypo in my pocket to drug you and make you forget the past hour?”
Devin hesitated. She should tell this man to go away, that he could not possibly provide her with what he was promising. She hesitated another moment.
Then she motioned Sharp towards the small sitting room…
MUCH MORE RECENTLY…
“He knew exactly what to say,” Devin said to Ulfric, “He manipulated me. I was on their list for years and…like a cake baking in an oven knew exactly when to drag me in.”
“That analogy makes no sense whatsoever,” Ulfric noted with a slight smile as he crossed his legs and regarded his (now) much younger sister.
“You know what I mean,” Devin replied, annoyed, “They knew exactly how to get me to do what they wanted. And now I am letting them do it again. Am I that easily manipulated?”
“I have often found it to be so,” Ulfrice noted.
Devin grimaced. Ulfric-and Hereward-could be so…aggravating at times. There had been quite the age difference between her and them and they sometimes seemed more like doting uncles rather than brothers. And then they would suddenly remember they were indeed her siblings and torment her mercilessly with their sharp wit and candor.
Ulfric cocked his head as he regarded Devin, “You know this is as unwise a course of action as you could possibly take. You cannot trust these people-whose identities you seem most reluctant to share with me-and yet here you are allowing them to once more make use of you to further their own ends. Oh yes, this is supposed to be for ‘the good of the Federation’ but I do wonder about such groups whose motivations seem…obscure, at best.”
“I know,” Devin confessed with a sigh, “But brother mine, I have been terribly mediocre in every endeavor I have pursued, these past few years. I have been a common cook, a middling mountain climber. Ball room dancing, spelunking, writing, the list is growing embarrassingly long. We both know this sailing venture will turn out much like the others. I only ever exceled at two things: music, and being a Starfleet officer.”
Ulfric cocked his head, “When you say ‘music’ do you mean your piano playing or your composition? Because if we were discussing the latter, I…” something must have shown in Devin’s face because Ulfric had the good grace to look abashed, “Sorry, I was joking, of course. You have produced some remarkable work.”
“And none in fourteen years. I need…stimulation, Ulfric! Inspiration! I get none of that here on this wonderfully dull planet.”
“I like dull.”
“And it suits you!” Devin hesitated, “All right, that came out entirely wrong…”
Ulfric chuckled, “No, I deserved that! I prefer things predictable and you thrive on chaos and adversity. Your best work was always produced in the wake of some crisis you were swept up in or caused yourself. But speaking as one of three people who in this universe love you best, I would much rather see you live out life a shoddy sailor than risk your life one more day. As for your composition…”
“Yes?” Devin gently prompted.
“Have you given any thought to, well, attempting something less conventional? Perhaps your problem is you are attempting to work within a framework you have grown all too comfortable in. You remember ‘Set For Stun’, that jazz composition you crafted under duress?”
Devin smiled slightly. She had been tricked into that dare by her brothers, to create a work of jazz, a genre of music she was wholly indifferent to.
Ulfric continued, “It is a good work, Devin. Very good! You pushed yourself and proved you could find it in you to excel in a medium you were not experienced in. You found your way through with just a bare concept of what jazz is and yet you crafted something explosive, exciting. Perhaps your problem is you are a classically trained composer and so you see everything through that lens, that operating outside of those parameters makes you uncomfortable,” Ulfric paused, “I…I apologize if I am-”
“No, no,” Devin replied, leaning forward, “Perhaps…you have a point.”
Ulfric brightened, “Now-”
“Perhaps instead of the piano I should focus more on the harpsichord.”
Ulfric scowled, “How soon are you leaving again?”
Devin grinned, she knew it had been a long time since she had done so with such enthusiasm because her cheeks ached. It was not often she got one on her brother. The smile faded and she honestly said, “I will take your advice to heart, Ulfric. I truly do think you might have something there. Perhaps I’ve allowed my education to stifle my creativity. Perhaps I have been so focused on forms that I lost the point of music altogether,” she sighed, “Most of what I will write over the next six months will be terrible.”
"Exercise always aches, at first," Ulric replied, "Be it of the body, mind or spirit." He slowly rose from his chair and Devin saw the slight twinge in his face. Ulfric was a large man and despite Elfin’s attempts to compel him to eat properly and exercise he was putting on weight and it was beginning to take a toll on him. She rose as well and her brother continued, “When you have settled in to wherever it is your benighted masters place you, let me know and I will send you songs. And yes, much of it will be what is colloquially known as ‘rock and roll’ but I do hope you will listen to it. When you were a child-and much, much sweeter, I might add-you enjoyed The Beatles a great deal; you sang ‘Hey Jude’ for thirty minutes straight.”
“I did n-”
“I recorded it.”
“...Ah. Well, if you must transform me into ‘Twentieth Century Guy’ then I suppose I have no choice.”
She embraced Ulfric’s large frame, all at once she was struck at the physical differences in their age now. There was a very real possibility she would spend decades without him in her life. That thought made her as sad as anything else ever did.
But for now she savored his large arms wrapping about her and all at once she was five years old again, listening to the ancient recordings he held so dear…
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