Tonx wasn’t sure which it was, her telling Maddie to call her, or her
walking back to her quarters with a sheet wrapped around her, but not
long after she got back, security personnel turned up and told her she
was restricted to quarters. She was being brought up on charges of
conduct unbecoming. A JAG officer would stop by the next day to discuss
her case.
The Lieutenant Commander shouldn’t have been surprised. Sleeping with an
Admiral’s wife was not really something on her bucket list (not that
she regretted her night with Maddie), and pissing off fleet officers was
never on her bucket list. Was it worth it? Running a hand through her
short cropped hair, Tonx smirked. Of course it was.
Unfortunately, being restricted to quarters put a crimp in her plans for
the coming evening. Sinking onto the couch in her quarters, she did
wonder what she was going to do with herself, and then the chime to her
door went off. Intrigued since she wasn’t expecting anyone, she looked
to the door as she called, “Enter?”
“I have to say. . .I didn’t expect to find you sulking in your
quarters,” Maddie said as she came in and leaned against the wall next
to the door.
Smirking, Tonx folded her arms across her chest, “I didn’t expect to see
you after your husband made is thoughts on you and me clear.”
Maddie rolled her eyes, “My husband works fifteen hours a day, gets
maybe a day off a month, and has shown no interest in me in the last. .
.two years? Our relationship is effectively over.”
“Effectively over isn’t the same as over,” Tonx replied.
Pushing herself from the wall, Maddie slinked across the room as she
started unbuttoning her shirt, “What do you care? My relationship with
him is my business. I’m not here for business, and I suspect neither you
nor I are looking for anything more than a bit of fun.”
Straddling Tonx, Maddie framed the security officer’s face with her
hands and leaned forward to kiss her, “You do want to have some fun,
don’t you?”
Placing her hands on Maddie’s hips, Tonx still smirked, “You are going to ruin my career.”
“But not your night,” Maddie whispered.
~~~~
Good grief, McKenna. You are whipped beyond whipped for a married
woman you don’t even wanna spend your life with. What the hell? Is your
career worth this?
Ok, so you’ve been on the Lone Star for the last five, six. . .or was it
seven years? It’s not like you’re going to become a flag officer.
Besides, Maddie. Oh my.
The internal debate wasn’t so much a debate as it was reflection.
Maddie’s unexpected visit helped pass the time since Tonx couldn’t
actually leave her quarters. The security officers outside didn’t stop
people from visiting her, though, thank the powers that be.
The admiral’s wife left early the next morning with the promise of
returning after she ‘made an appearance.’ McKenna should have told her
not to come back, but forbidden fruit syndrome was a thing.
It was station ‘nightfall’ when her chime rang again. Tonx smirked as she called, “Enter.”
Maddie came in, grinning like the Cheshire Cat, “Miss me?” She closed
distance and wrapped her arms around the Security Officer’s neck.
“You have no idea.”
~~~~
A few hours later, Maddie and Tonx were laying on the couch when the
chime went off again. Tonx looked to the door, “That’s going to be that
admiral husband of yours, ain’t it?”
“Probably,” Maddie replied.
“Are you using me to make a point?”
“Probably,” Maddie said again. “Do you hate me?”
Tonx snorted, “Hate you? I only know your name and that you’re married
to an admiral. Takes more than that for me to hate someone. I might hate
you if he tosses me in the brig.”
The chime rang again.
SD241809.30 - "You've Got The Touch!" [Edith]
“Put that hyperspanner down!” Edie charged across the main engineering
deck with more speed than one would hypothesize possible from of a woman
of her age and stature. She had caught sight of a young Ensign
beginning to work on a EPS conduit on the starboard side of the room.
The young man jumped back, startled and dropped the tool on the deck plating. He looked dumbfounded at the old woman which had approached him to briskly. “Ma’am?”
“That EPS conduit is sensitive. If it isn’t calibrated specifically it’ll act up and power to the ventral-aft thrusters will lag. Lonie hates those mark-eight hyperspanners, but even more so when you try and use them on this particular conduit.” Edie grabbed the tool from the floor and inspected it, shaking her head and tucking it away in her baggy and dirty engineering-style overcoat.
“Ma’am?” The young Ensign somehow looked even more dumbfounded now, if it were possible. “Who is Lonie?.... Sensitive?.... They all work the same….”
“Listen my young friend.” Edie gave the young officer a gentle pat on the back. “You’re new here. I wouldn’t expect you to know these things, so there is no harm done.” She then leaned in awkwardly and whispered. “Just don’t let Lonie hear that you don’t know his name. That’ll really hurt his feelings.” She then casually gestured to the entire area around them. “Lonie.”
“Lonie…..” The Ensign looked around, following her gesture. It took a few moments before it clicked but when it did, he was both surprised and slightly disturbed. “The ship…? Lonie..?” He looked at the Chief Engineer for confirmation on this.
Edie nodded with enthusiasm. “You got it my boy!” She gave the man another gentle pat on the back before she dug in one of the large pockets of her overcoat. She retrieved a small PADD and handed it to the young man. “This is a complete database on what Lonie likes and doesn’t like, classified right down to sub-systems. I did ask the staff at Utopia to disseminate this to anyone coming onboard to do work, but it seems that they have not done so. Here you go.. Ensign?” She realised she hadn’t really even introduced herself.
“Ensign Frederick Lee.” The man accepted the PADD from Edie and quickly glanced over it. He was rather overwhelmed at the detail - every single system was broken down into what device should be used and how it should be calibrated for repairs.
“Commander Edith Freelove. Just call me Edie.” She gave the young man a big and warm smile.
“I suggest you follow the list my young friend. Lonie is a fussy soul. Just keep in mind, he is the one that replicates your food! Use the wrong piece of equipment at your own risk.” With that, Edie trotted back to where she was working before she caught Ensign Lee about to perform the blasphemous act. She made a mental note to get in touch with the operations manager of Utopia and give them a verbal-licking.
The Ensign continued to look at the PADD for a moment. He scrolled down and found this particular EPS conduit . “Use a mark-six hyperspanner and set this particular calibration….” He raised his eyebrow and looked at the conduit and the PADD a few times before walking a short distance to a small replicator. Before he could enter the request to replicate the less advance and older style tool, it suddenly materialized in front of him.
“Alright…. Lonie… I get the message….” He gingerly picked up the tool, slightly creeped out and clasped the PADD tightly. He made a mental note to not deviate from Edie’s instructions. No one little bit.
Commander Edith “Edie” Freelove
Chief Engineering Officer
USS Lone Star
&
Ensign Frederick Lee
Engineering Officer
Utopia Planitia
The young man jumped back, startled and dropped the tool on the deck plating. He looked dumbfounded at the old woman which had approached him to briskly. “Ma’am?”
“That EPS conduit is sensitive. If it isn’t calibrated specifically it’ll act up and power to the ventral-aft thrusters will lag. Lonie hates those mark-eight hyperspanners, but even more so when you try and use them on this particular conduit.” Edie grabbed the tool from the floor and inspected it, shaking her head and tucking it away in her baggy and dirty engineering-style overcoat.
“Ma’am?” The young Ensign somehow looked even more dumbfounded now, if it were possible. “Who is Lonie?.... Sensitive?.... They all work the same….”
“Listen my young friend.” Edie gave the young officer a gentle pat on the back. “You’re new here. I wouldn’t expect you to know these things, so there is no harm done.” She then leaned in awkwardly and whispered. “Just don’t let Lonie hear that you don’t know his name. That’ll really hurt his feelings.” She then casually gestured to the entire area around them. “Lonie.”
“Lonie…..” The Ensign looked around, following her gesture. It took a few moments before it clicked but when it did, he was both surprised and slightly disturbed. “The ship…? Lonie..?” He looked at the Chief Engineer for confirmation on this.
Edie nodded with enthusiasm. “You got it my boy!” She gave the man another gentle pat on the back before she dug in one of the large pockets of her overcoat. She retrieved a small PADD and handed it to the young man. “This is a complete database on what Lonie likes and doesn’t like, classified right down to sub-systems. I did ask the staff at Utopia to disseminate this to anyone coming onboard to do work, but it seems that they have not done so. Here you go.. Ensign?” She realised she hadn’t really even introduced herself.
“Ensign Frederick Lee.” The man accepted the PADD from Edie and quickly glanced over it. He was rather overwhelmed at the detail - every single system was broken down into what device should be used and how it should be calibrated for repairs.
“Commander Edith Freelove. Just call me Edie.” She gave the young man a big and warm smile.
“I suggest you follow the list my young friend. Lonie is a fussy soul. Just keep in mind, he is the one that replicates your food! Use the wrong piece of equipment at your own risk.” With that, Edie trotted back to where she was working before she caught Ensign Lee about to perform the blasphemous act. She made a mental note to get in touch with the operations manager of Utopia and give them a verbal-licking.
The Ensign continued to look at the PADD for a moment. He scrolled down and found this particular EPS conduit . “Use a mark-six hyperspanner and set this particular calibration….” He raised his eyebrow and looked at the conduit and the PADD a few times before walking a short distance to a small replicator. Before he could enter the request to replicate the less advance and older style tool, it suddenly materialized in front of him.
“Alright…. Lonie… I get the message….” He gingerly picked up the tool, slightly creeped out and clasped the PADD tightly. He made a mental note to not deviate from Edie’s instructions. No one little bit.
Commander Edith “Edie” Freelove
Chief Engineering Officer
USS Lone Star
&
Ensign Frederick Lee
Engineering Officer
Utopia Planitia
SD 241809.28 - From Wingman to Troublemaker (aka: Tonx steps in a big smelly pile) [Tonx]
“Tonx! I’ve got an invite for me and a guest to the station’s annual
personnel party. Everyone who's anyone is going to be at this thing
tonight. I want you as my guest because I need you as my wingman,” came a
voice moments before a short, balding man came around the corner into
the lounge area of the room Lieutenant Commander McKenna had gotten on
the station circling around Earth.
Looking to her long time friend, Greer smiled, “Oh come now, Fred. You don’t need a wingman. . .never have, but I would be happy to be your plus one and offer you encouragement. No guarantees I won’t bugger off if I find someone who tickles my fancy, or more.” The woman flashed a smirk, something she’d gotten a reputation for during her time in Starfleet.
Fred grinned, “I knew I could count on you. You worried some of your old flames might be here?”
The smirk grew, “I wouldn’t say worried. I’ve already hooked up with a couple of my old classmates who stuck close to home.”
“Hooked up with as in met up or?”
Tonx arched a brow as her smirk grew, but said nothing.
“Ah. . .oh. You have never changed, have you?”
“Why should I? I’m always honest about who I am and what I want,” she replied.
Fred shook his head, “I don’t understand how you do it.”
“Don’t try and understand. You’ll just pop a blood vessel if you think too hard on it,” Tonx teased.
~~~ Some time later ~~~
Tonx gave the tunic of her dress uniform a tug as she walked alongside Fred, “I heard Leanne was going to be here tonight.”
The man blushed madly, “Oh yeah?”
Tonx laughed softly, “You know you don’t lie well, don’t you? You knew she was going to be here.”
“Oh, fine, yes I knew. I struggle getting conversation started with her, but once you get us started, I can usually manage,” he admitted.
Snorting, Greer replied, “You need to overcome that, you know. I won’t be able to be there on your wedding night.”
“Wedding night?! What?”
She laughed again, “Take it easy, Fred. I’m teasing.”
At that moment, the pair arrived at the celebration, which was being held in what amounted to a ballroom. There was a live band playing at one end of the hall, standing on an elaborately decorated stage. There were several tables set up with appetizers, and at other strategic points, tables set up with bartenders ready to serve drinks.
Tonx wasted no time as she made her way to the nearest bar station, grabbing a double gin and tonic while Fred got a Cosmopolitan. The Lieutenant Commander took a sip and turned to scan the room, a slow smirk coming to her lips, “Follow me, Fred.”
“Where are we going?”
Tonx paused long enough to grab a second cosmo, “Down the drink, m’boy.”
“Why?”
“Trust me.”
Fred didn’t ask a second time and downed his drink, scrunching up his face as the alcohol hit him hard. She handed him the new cosmo and headed off with him trotting behind her, “Where are we going?”
Tonx didn’t answer, instead, she tapped another woman on the shoulder, “Leanne. . .I didn’t know you were going to be here. Hey Freddy. . .did you know Leanne was going to be here?”
“What?” He looked dazed and confused.
Leanne’s eyes lit up when she saw him, “Freddy! I was hoping you’d be here.”
Tonx stepped back so she wasn’t between the two of them, “Why don’t you two go get a bite to eat? There’s someone over there I want to see.”
“What?” Fred asked looking at Tonx, petrified until he saw her nod towards one of the buffets near an empty table. “Oh! Food! Are you interested, Leanne?”
Leanne nodded, “Absolutely.” As they walked off, she looked over her shoulder and mouthed to Tonx, ‘Thank you.’
Tonx smirked and held her gin and tonic up in a toast.
“I’m impressed. You make one hell of a wingman,” a sultry female voice called from behind her.
Looking over her shoulder, Tonx let that smirk shine through, “I’ve learned a thing or two with Freddy. That woman’s crazy about him, but he gets so tongue tied if he has to start the conversation. I just hope I don’t have to kick start their conversations when they get married.”
Turning to face the woman who spoke to her, Tonx only just managed to stop herself from gawking. Standing about as tall as she was, the woman had long, auburn hair, stunning green eyes, and curves in all the right places. Letting her smirk go a little crooked, Tonx asked, “And who might you be?”
Taking a slow, deliberate sip of her own cosmopolitan, the woman didn’t take her eyes off of Tonx’s. When she finished her sip, she finally replied, “My name is Maudie. Tell me. . .are you meeting anyone else here?”
Shaking her head slowly, Tonx answered, “Nope. No one is expecting me, and no one would miss me.” She took a step closer to Maddie and licked her lips, “Dare I ask if you are here with anyone?”
Maddie laughed softly as she closed the rest of the distance between the two of them, “No one that would miss me. I have to say. . .these things are always so stuffy. Care for a change of scenery? Perhaps one a bit more private?”
“That more private scenery have gin?”
“It does.”
~~~ The next morning ~~~
“Maddie? Maddie, are you here?” A man’s voice called from another room.
Somewhere in Tonx’s hungover mind, that there was a man’s voice in the next room registered. It took time for that thought to make it through the cobweb of neurons and synapses. In fact, the woman (woman?! Oh right. . .) next to her stirred, “Oh shit! Wake up, Tonx. You gotta hide.”
“What? Hide? What are you talking about?” A groggy Tonx asked as she sat up, pulling the sheet around her. “Who is that?”
“My husband.”
Suddenly, Tonx was no longer hungover, and very much sober, “Your what? You didn’t say you were married.”
“You didn’t ask.”
Shit. Maddie had her there.
“Now come on...get in the bathroom!”
Shuffling over, trying not to drop the sheet, Tonx almost made it to the bathroom when a man burst through the door, “What’s going on here? Who are you?”
Stopping in her tracks, Tonx looked over to the man who was becoming red in the face, and felt the blood drain from hers. The man was wearing a uniform with the rank of admiral.
Oh shit.
Tonx looked at her feet, and saw her own uniform laying there, looked to Maddie, about to ask her what the hell when the Admiral stepped fully into the bedroom, “Name, rank and ship.”
Fuck. (Except that’s what got you into this predicament, woman!)
“Lieutenant Commander Greer McKenna, USS Lonestar,” she answered, holding eye contact, not letting him intimidate her.
“Get your clothes and get out. Your CO will be hearing from me,” the admiral barked.
Tonx didn’t have to be told twice. The cheeky part of her looked over her shoulder to Maddie as she was starting to leave, “Call me.” She smirked at her, and then the admiral before making a run for it, holding the sheet and her uniform around her to hide her modesty, dashing the rest of the way across the station to her own temporary quarters.
Looking to her long time friend, Greer smiled, “Oh come now, Fred. You don’t need a wingman. . .never have, but I would be happy to be your plus one and offer you encouragement. No guarantees I won’t bugger off if I find someone who tickles my fancy, or more.” The woman flashed a smirk, something she’d gotten a reputation for during her time in Starfleet.
Fred grinned, “I knew I could count on you. You worried some of your old flames might be here?”
The smirk grew, “I wouldn’t say worried. I’ve already hooked up with a couple of my old classmates who stuck close to home.”
“Hooked up with as in met up or?”
Tonx arched a brow as her smirk grew, but said nothing.
“Ah. . .oh. You have never changed, have you?”
“Why should I? I’m always honest about who I am and what I want,” she replied.
Fred shook his head, “I don’t understand how you do it.”
“Don’t try and understand. You’ll just pop a blood vessel if you think too hard on it,” Tonx teased.
~~~ Some time later ~~~
Tonx gave the tunic of her dress uniform a tug as she walked alongside Fred, “I heard Leanne was going to be here tonight.”
The man blushed madly, “Oh yeah?”
Tonx laughed softly, “You know you don’t lie well, don’t you? You knew she was going to be here.”
“Oh, fine, yes I knew. I struggle getting conversation started with her, but once you get us started, I can usually manage,” he admitted.
Snorting, Greer replied, “You need to overcome that, you know. I won’t be able to be there on your wedding night.”
“Wedding night?! What?”
She laughed again, “Take it easy, Fred. I’m teasing.”
At that moment, the pair arrived at the celebration, which was being held in what amounted to a ballroom. There was a live band playing at one end of the hall, standing on an elaborately decorated stage. There were several tables set up with appetizers, and at other strategic points, tables set up with bartenders ready to serve drinks.
Tonx wasted no time as she made her way to the nearest bar station, grabbing a double gin and tonic while Fred got a Cosmopolitan. The Lieutenant Commander took a sip and turned to scan the room, a slow smirk coming to her lips, “Follow me, Fred.”
“Where are we going?”
Tonx paused long enough to grab a second cosmo, “Down the drink, m’boy.”
“Why?”
“Trust me.”
Fred didn’t ask a second time and downed his drink, scrunching up his face as the alcohol hit him hard. She handed him the new cosmo and headed off with him trotting behind her, “Where are we going?”
Tonx didn’t answer, instead, she tapped another woman on the shoulder, “Leanne. . .I didn’t know you were going to be here. Hey Freddy. . .did you know Leanne was going to be here?”
“What?” He looked dazed and confused.
Leanne’s eyes lit up when she saw him, “Freddy! I was hoping you’d be here.”
Tonx stepped back so she wasn’t between the two of them, “Why don’t you two go get a bite to eat? There’s someone over there I want to see.”
“What?” Fred asked looking at Tonx, petrified until he saw her nod towards one of the buffets near an empty table. “Oh! Food! Are you interested, Leanne?”
Leanne nodded, “Absolutely.” As they walked off, she looked over her shoulder and mouthed to Tonx, ‘Thank you.’
Tonx smirked and held her gin and tonic up in a toast.
“I’m impressed. You make one hell of a wingman,” a sultry female voice called from behind her.
Looking over her shoulder, Tonx let that smirk shine through, “I’ve learned a thing or two with Freddy. That woman’s crazy about him, but he gets so tongue tied if he has to start the conversation. I just hope I don’t have to kick start their conversations when they get married.”
Turning to face the woman who spoke to her, Tonx only just managed to stop herself from gawking. Standing about as tall as she was, the woman had long, auburn hair, stunning green eyes, and curves in all the right places. Letting her smirk go a little crooked, Tonx asked, “And who might you be?”
Taking a slow, deliberate sip of her own cosmopolitan, the woman didn’t take her eyes off of Tonx’s. When she finished her sip, she finally replied, “My name is Maudie. Tell me. . .are you meeting anyone else here?”
Shaking her head slowly, Tonx answered, “Nope. No one is expecting me, and no one would miss me.” She took a step closer to Maddie and licked her lips, “Dare I ask if you are here with anyone?”
Maddie laughed softly as she closed the rest of the distance between the two of them, “No one that would miss me. I have to say. . .these things are always so stuffy. Care for a change of scenery? Perhaps one a bit more private?”
“That more private scenery have gin?”
“It does.”
~~~ The next morning ~~~
“Maddie? Maddie, are you here?” A man’s voice called from another room.
Somewhere in Tonx’s hungover mind, that there was a man’s voice in the next room registered. It took time for that thought to make it through the cobweb of neurons and synapses. In fact, the woman (woman?! Oh right. . .) next to her stirred, “Oh shit! Wake up, Tonx. You gotta hide.”
“What? Hide? What are you talking about?” A groggy Tonx asked as she sat up, pulling the sheet around her. “Who is that?”
“My husband.”
Suddenly, Tonx was no longer hungover, and very much sober, “Your what? You didn’t say you were married.”
“You didn’t ask.”
Shit. Maddie had her there.
“Now come on...get in the bathroom!”
Shuffling over, trying not to drop the sheet, Tonx almost made it to the bathroom when a man burst through the door, “What’s going on here? Who are you?”
Stopping in her tracks, Tonx looked over to the man who was becoming red in the face, and felt the blood drain from hers. The man was wearing a uniform with the rank of admiral.
Oh shit.
Tonx looked at her feet, and saw her own uniform laying there, looked to Maddie, about to ask her what the hell when the Admiral stepped fully into the bedroom, “Name, rank and ship.”
Fuck. (Except that’s what got you into this predicament, woman!)
“Lieutenant Commander Greer McKenna, USS Lonestar,” she answered, holding eye contact, not letting him intimidate her.
“Get your clothes and get out. Your CO will be hearing from me,” the admiral barked.
Tonx didn’t have to be told twice. The cheeky part of her looked over her shoulder to Maddie as she was starting to leave, “Call me.” She smirked at her, and then the admiral before making a run for it, holding the sheet and her uniform around her to hide her modesty, dashing the rest of the way across the station to her own temporary quarters.
SD241809.27 - The Sun and the Moon [Andraste]
Andraste Vaughn sat in the Café Blue on Kincardine. She was at one of
the "outdoor tables" that allowed one to soak up the atmosphere of the
area while drinking their coffee or tea. Of course, that was mostly
because these “outdoor tables” were the only sort that the place had.
The interior was still in progress, much like a fair portion of the base
itself.
As for the drink, for Andra, it was a cup of simple black tea, flavored with a variety of Earth berries and sweetened with a type of honey.
The Starfleet lieutenant was dressed in her civilian wear, leaning back in her seat with her legs crossed and one sandal dangling off her bare, tan-colored toes. Her dark eyes, however, were far less idle than her feet. She had a PADD on the white, wrought iron replica table and she was reading through one of the latest medical journals. Her attention was particularly gripped by an article about the newly discovered A4B2 Protein in the Sal'kiiran desert runner. This protein had potential medicinal properties.
She wondered if she would have a chance to visit the planet and learn more about it firsthand before the Lone Star arrived.
Two days ago, the doctor had arrived on Kincardine, ready and waiting for her new posting. She had been told that it could be a little while, or maybe not. Who knew? Everything was so precise. What hadn’t been a surprise, however, was the post itself: the USS Lone Star. After her argument with her last CO… Well, she knew she was getting transferred. Her certainty came from the fact that the captain had told her, quite unequivocally, that he was ‘getting her the hell off his ship.’
So, here she was.
And soon, there she’d be.
Reaching the end of her article, as well as her tea, she decided to return to her guest quarters here on base. She recycled her cup and held her PADD to her chest as she worked her way through the corridors. It was fortunate that many bases looked like others, since it helped keep one from getting lost too easily. The various spots of construction didn’t help, though, but she managed. Getting herself lost had only happened once since her transport had brought her here, and she planned to keep it that way.
As soon as she walked through the door, she heard the console chime with an incoming message that she hurried to answer.
"Bel!" she greeted her husband with a broad, warm smile. The two spoke every day that they were able to--Starfleet missions having plenty of times when that wasn't possible--and they hadn't yet today, so his call was no surprise. It had only been a few days since she left him after her brief post-catastrophe/pre-new post sabbatical, but she already missed him. "How're things?"
"Things are good," he said with a matching smile on his dark face, his dark eyes shining with emotion. "Chandra and I just wanted to tell you the news."
Andra's brows knit with curiosity, although she didn't lose her smile. She knew the news had to be something good, since he obviously was in a good mood. "What news?" she asked. "Well, come on, man, out with it!"
He laughed warmly, and the sound sent a warm shiver rushing up and down her spine. Looking off screen, he moved aside to let a second person into the view. Chandra Rees was practically glowing, her pale eyes such a beautiful contrast to her dark-tan skin. "He was just waiting for me," she said. "The baby started moving today!" She grinned so wide that Andra worried her mouth might stretch right off her face, even if the doctor scientifically knew it impossible.
"How exciting!" she exclaimed, but her joy was bittersweet. They were there, and she was here. But she didn't regret her career, and she knew they were home waiting for her. She touched the screen. "I wish I could be there to feel it."
"You were here for the important part," Chandra pointed out cheekily.
"Chandra!" Andraste chastised her lovingly, and without any real chastisement.
Belenus put his arm around their wife. "She's been mouthy since reaching her second trimester. You can't trust that she's going to keep any of her thoughts to herself anymore."
Chandra did not look at all apologetic.
Andra swallowed hard against the emotions, the longing, rising in her chest. "I hope I'll be able to get back for the birth," she said. "After all, I have to make sure that Belenus doesn't slip in any silly names onto the birth record." (He looked mock-offended.) Another message chime popped up and she sighed. "I have to go, but I'll call again soon. You take care of our lady, Belenus. I'll hear about it if you're not holding up your end of the bargain."
"I'm wounded!" he exclaimed, without real rancor.
She smiled and held her hand up to the screen again. "My sun," she said to him. "My moon," she said to her. "I love you."
"We love you too," Chandra said warmly. "Stay safe out there, so you can come home to us."
"Always."
=/\= End Log =/\=
Lieutenant Andraste Vaughn
CMO, USS Lone Star
As for the drink, for Andra, it was a cup of simple black tea, flavored with a variety of Earth berries and sweetened with a type of honey.
The Starfleet lieutenant was dressed in her civilian wear, leaning back in her seat with her legs crossed and one sandal dangling off her bare, tan-colored toes. Her dark eyes, however, were far less idle than her feet. She had a PADD on the white, wrought iron replica table and she was reading through one of the latest medical journals. Her attention was particularly gripped by an article about the newly discovered A4B2 Protein in the Sal'kiiran desert runner. This protein had potential medicinal properties.
She wondered if she would have a chance to visit the planet and learn more about it firsthand before the Lone Star arrived.
Two days ago, the doctor had arrived on Kincardine, ready and waiting for her new posting. She had been told that it could be a little while, or maybe not. Who knew? Everything was so precise. What hadn’t been a surprise, however, was the post itself: the USS Lone Star. After her argument with her last CO… Well, she knew she was getting transferred. Her certainty came from the fact that the captain had told her, quite unequivocally, that he was ‘getting her the hell off his ship.’
So, here she was.
And soon, there she’d be.
Reaching the end of her article, as well as her tea, she decided to return to her guest quarters here on base. She recycled her cup and held her PADD to her chest as she worked her way through the corridors. It was fortunate that many bases looked like others, since it helped keep one from getting lost too easily. The various spots of construction didn’t help, though, but she managed. Getting herself lost had only happened once since her transport had brought her here, and she planned to keep it that way.
As soon as she walked through the door, she heard the console chime with an incoming message that she hurried to answer.
"Bel!" she greeted her husband with a broad, warm smile. The two spoke every day that they were able to--Starfleet missions having plenty of times when that wasn't possible--and they hadn't yet today, so his call was no surprise. It had only been a few days since she left him after her brief post-catastrophe/pre-new post sabbatical, but she already missed him. "How're things?"
"Things are good," he said with a matching smile on his dark face, his dark eyes shining with emotion. "Chandra and I just wanted to tell you the news."
Andra's brows knit with curiosity, although she didn't lose her smile. She knew the news had to be something good, since he obviously was in a good mood. "What news?" she asked. "Well, come on, man, out with it!"
He laughed warmly, and the sound sent a warm shiver rushing up and down her spine. Looking off screen, he moved aside to let a second person into the view. Chandra Rees was practically glowing, her pale eyes such a beautiful contrast to her dark-tan skin. "He was just waiting for me," she said. "The baby started moving today!" She grinned so wide that Andra worried her mouth might stretch right off her face, even if the doctor scientifically knew it impossible.
"How exciting!" she exclaimed, but her joy was bittersweet. They were there, and she was here. But she didn't regret her career, and she knew they were home waiting for her. She touched the screen. "I wish I could be there to feel it."
"You were here for the important part," Chandra pointed out cheekily.
"Chandra!" Andraste chastised her lovingly, and without any real chastisement.
Belenus put his arm around their wife. "She's been mouthy since reaching her second trimester. You can't trust that she's going to keep any of her thoughts to herself anymore."
Chandra did not look at all apologetic.
Andra swallowed hard against the emotions, the longing, rising in her chest. "I hope I'll be able to get back for the birth," she said. "After all, I have to make sure that Belenus doesn't slip in any silly names onto the birth record." (He looked mock-offended.) Another message chime popped up and she sighed. "I have to go, but I'll call again soon. You take care of our lady, Belenus. I'll hear about it if you're not holding up your end of the bargain."
"I'm wounded!" he exclaimed, without real rancor.
She smiled and held her hand up to the screen again. "My sun," she said to him. "My moon," she said to her. "I love you."
"We love you too," Chandra said warmly. "Stay safe out there, so you can come home to us."
"Always."
=/\= End Log =/\=
Lieutenant Andraste Vaughn
CMO, USS Lone Star
SD241809.27 - Felix and the Admiral. [Felix/Kreik]
-= The Bobcat, somewhere near Ferengi space =-
Originally named the Alamo, the Captain’s Yacht of the USS Lone Star had been rechristened moments before becoming the travelling home of the Captain’s Sabbatical. Repainted and renamed, its transponder code adjusted and its interior gutted in favour of comfort, Felix had pointed the vessel at the nearest dive planet and set off at warp nine.
Three hundred days later and the Bobcat was speeding between Volchok and Maxia Zeta, on the outskirts of Ferengi territory. Felix had awoken after a rare evening of respite from his enjoyment, replicated coffee and set Lester’s food down when the comm chime sounded. On another day he’d have called ‘yeah?’ to the machine and carried on obliviously. The addition of the magic words – ‘incoming transmission from Starfleet Command’ – changed that rapidly.
His 18-year-old wire-haired fox terrier knew the tone. Felix exchanged a knowing look with his pet.
“I think this means shore leave's over,” Felix said. Lester seemed to understand and commiserate.
Walking unhurriedly to the closet, he pulled out his uniform for the first time in almost a year. As a former flyboy he was used to jumping into it quickly but this time he took his time to clamber in and straighten, in his habitual way. However diverting his sabbatical had been, Felix felt the other side of his life reassert itself as he checked his reflection.
The chirrup had become insistent by the time he’d reached the front of the ship. As he sat to greet his correspondent Felix was instantly relieved that he’d chosen to get dressed properly.
“Fleet Admiral Kreik.”
“Relax, Captain. I can see you have been already.” The imposing half-Klingon nodded to a number of last night’s beer bottles in her line of sight. He chose not to follow it. “You’ve only got me today because my deputies are away at conference. A conference on Vulcan covering the technicalities of civilian governance. I decided to deputise for my deputies.”
Felix snickered sympathetically. “You must have a packed schedule, then, Admiral.”
She cut him off before he could cut to the chase. “It would appear that they sit around drinking a lot of raktajino. But yes. And as you may have guessed, this is that call. You’re to report to Utopia Planitia at your earliest convenience.”
“Aye, sir.” He replied with deference while his mind longed for news of his ship. His mad, old ship. But it was the Admiral’s call what order she did this in.
“You’ll pick up the Lone Star and travel by warp to Kincardine Station, the new HQ of Omega Fleet. The Lone Star will still be taking its orders directly from Starfleet Command but they’ll be coming through Admiral Stanton, unless she has operational reasons to put you elsewhere. You’re going to be based out of there for the time being.”
Felix let a chink of a smile break through. Stanton had advocated his becoming a CO ten years before; had signed off on more opportunities than that, even. It wouldn’t be a hardship to work alongside her, or the Artemis.
“Understood. How do our orders stand at present, sir?”
At her end the Admiral stalled the conversation, striking a keypad beside her to encrypt the channel with a quadratic frequency. Felix didn’t recognise it. He had a sudden premonition of the amount of catching up he’d need to do after a year on the piss.
Lester, intrigued, moved onto the co-pilot’s seat beside him and watched as a holographic map appeared above the ops console. Kreik clocked the dog. She hesitated for a fraction of a second, having input her access code seconds before, but then she wasn’t head of strategic operations at Starfleet Command for nothing.
“You’ll take the Lone Star from Utopia Planitia to Kincardine and complete its final warp tests on the way. Then slipstream tests. Then we’ll get you to push her as far as you can go.”
As Kreik spoke, navigational charts, tactical and scientific data appeared in front of him. “Broadly speaking, you’re on the same beat as before. You’re to take the Lone Star to the furthest and most unlikely places you can get to. Safely,” she added, knowing that de l’Isle’s penchant for disregarding boundaries was practically unlimited.
“Of course,” Felix lied, avoiding her gaze by scanning the latest batch of classified files. The locations and mission profiles flashed correspondingly on the holomap: deep space cartography, anomalies, a few ‘last known coordinates’ investigations, excluded areas; the galactic core. The flag officer interrupted before he became distracted by his lust for the unknown.
“We want to put some exciting opportunities your way before too long. But you must bring your house to order first.”
Kreik’s look contained too much intrigue for Felix’s liking at this point in the call. “Who’s done what,” he half-asked, fully expecting the answer to be him. He liked less how the look began to brew.
A file appeared on his screen. Rather than looking for individual names, he had learned to look at the head-count of reprimands at the bottom. Over two hundred. Felix whistled. It was a record, even by the Lone Star’s standards.
“You’re about the only member of your senior and junior staff not to have received a complaint, reprimand or reassignment order.”
This time Felix interrupted her – something Kreik clearly was not accustomed to. “Respectfully, Admiral, there is a reason they’re assigned to the Lone Star.”
Kreik grunted a grudging agreement past her rows of teeth. Felix exhaled, like a Ferengi after the funds had cleared. It could have gone very badly.
“Discipline will be top of your agenda. You’re going to have to fight for a couple of them, Captain. A couple of these were hanging on by the skin of their teeth.” She seemed to be looking at specific names. Felix gulped.
“I hear the chief of operations at Utopia Planitia has locked himself in his study until your chief engineer has left the premises. She – she talks to her machinery. It distresses him.”
“Edie’s worked more starship engines than the rest of the engineering corps put together.” Mathematically it wasn’t far from the truth. “I’ll deal with the rest of them, Admiral. They behave when they’re where I can see them.”
Lester cast him a regard that seemed to say sure, sometimes but Felix overlooked it. There was one name in particular that rankled him. He winced, but Kreik was on a different track.
“They had better. The Lone Star is an asset, Captain."
Felix experienced an oh, fuck drop. Some kind of pre-emptive bollocking was in order. It was imperative that he look sincere. It was time for The Talk. Sincere.
“It is time you showed us what she can do. The Lone Star is the fleet’s… darling.” Kreik had clear discomfort with this word, facially. “Starfleet requires positive examples and your ship is for some reason an emblem. Third-generation slipstream drive. Quantum cartography. First contact ready. Evacuation and warship capable. She’s a jewel of the fleet and we want to see results.”
Every feature sounded like a threat. Lester willed Felix not to smirk and it didn’t, quite, work. Felix’s best and worst feature – his mouth – began to move into motion before he, the dog or anyone else could do anything about it. Kreik was still talking. Then she wasn’t, but her face wanted an answer. She was about to get it.
“Thing is, Admiral.”
What he’d tried to explain went along the lines of the deep reverence he held for his motley crew and their unique ability to solve the universe’s problems; that he, Felix de l’Isle, was for some reason good at channelling that and making it work.
“The Lone Star’s a weird one. All these minds that people can’t cope with. We’re all an inconvenience but we’re too good to throw away. The fact is that Starfleet doesn’t know what to do with us, so it puts us on a ship and tells us to go as far as we can.”
“What’s your point, Captain?”
Felix could see Kreik’s patience thinning and didn’t care. The chink of grin turned to a shard of sunlight. He spun the 3D map like caramel beneath his fingers.
“Funny how the exceptionally abled are seen so differently, Admiral. But this list tells me they’re all functioning as they should,” he said, pointing decisively at an irrelevant console beyond her perspective. “They’ve been out pushing boundaries. Testing people’s differences. Making their presence felt. Saving the world.”
Felix shrugged something invisible off his shoulder. “And given half a chance they make the best damned team you could find. We’ve completed two five-year tours in the strangest parts of space and come back to tell the tale. The Lone Star is a weird one, Admiral. But we can do something else no other starship can.”
Here it came. “We can do the job and then some, sir. Don’t tell me how to lead my pack.”
Kreik's face imploded. Felix watched as his career disappeared in her gnashing Klingon maw. Then it broke into a laugh; the kind that hadn’t been used in a while.
“You are either very clever or very brave, Captain de l’Isle,” she fizzed. It had worked but she had had enough. “Go to your ship, warp eight. Collect your crew. And fill your words with worth.”
He could tell she’d said the last phrase in Klingon.
“Qapla’!” Felix said, enthusiastically.
“Qapla’,” Kreik replied cynically, her eyebrow quirking as the transmission ended.
-=-=-=-
Fleet Admiral Kreik, Chief of Strategic Operations, Starfleet Command
and Captain Felix de l'Isle, CO, USS Lone Star
Originally named the Alamo, the Captain’s Yacht of the USS Lone Star had been rechristened moments before becoming the travelling home of the Captain’s Sabbatical. Repainted and renamed, its transponder code adjusted and its interior gutted in favour of comfort, Felix had pointed the vessel at the nearest dive planet and set off at warp nine.
Three hundred days later and the Bobcat was speeding between Volchok and Maxia Zeta, on the outskirts of Ferengi territory. Felix had awoken after a rare evening of respite from his enjoyment, replicated coffee and set Lester’s food down when the comm chime sounded. On another day he’d have called ‘yeah?’ to the machine and carried on obliviously. The addition of the magic words – ‘incoming transmission from Starfleet Command’ – changed that rapidly.
His 18-year-old wire-haired fox terrier knew the tone. Felix exchanged a knowing look with his pet.
“I think this means shore leave's over,” Felix said. Lester seemed to understand and commiserate.
Walking unhurriedly to the closet, he pulled out his uniform for the first time in almost a year. As a former flyboy he was used to jumping into it quickly but this time he took his time to clamber in and straighten, in his habitual way. However diverting his sabbatical had been, Felix felt the other side of his life reassert itself as he checked his reflection.
The chirrup had become insistent by the time he’d reached the front of the ship. As he sat to greet his correspondent Felix was instantly relieved that he’d chosen to get dressed properly.
“Fleet Admiral Kreik.”
“Relax, Captain. I can see you have been already.” The imposing half-Klingon nodded to a number of last night’s beer bottles in her line of sight. He chose not to follow it. “You’ve only got me today because my deputies are away at conference. A conference on Vulcan covering the technicalities of civilian governance. I decided to deputise for my deputies.”
Felix snickered sympathetically. “You must have a packed schedule, then, Admiral.”
She cut him off before he could cut to the chase. “It would appear that they sit around drinking a lot of raktajino. But yes. And as you may have guessed, this is that call. You’re to report to Utopia Planitia at your earliest convenience.”
“Aye, sir.” He replied with deference while his mind longed for news of his ship. His mad, old ship. But it was the Admiral’s call what order she did this in.
“You’ll pick up the Lone Star and travel by warp to Kincardine Station, the new HQ of Omega Fleet. The Lone Star will still be taking its orders directly from Starfleet Command but they’ll be coming through Admiral Stanton, unless she has operational reasons to put you elsewhere. You’re going to be based out of there for the time being.”
Felix let a chink of a smile break through. Stanton had advocated his becoming a CO ten years before; had signed off on more opportunities than that, even. It wouldn’t be a hardship to work alongside her, or the Artemis.
“Understood. How do our orders stand at present, sir?”
At her end the Admiral stalled the conversation, striking a keypad beside her to encrypt the channel with a quadratic frequency. Felix didn’t recognise it. He had a sudden premonition of the amount of catching up he’d need to do after a year on the piss.
Lester, intrigued, moved onto the co-pilot’s seat beside him and watched as a holographic map appeared above the ops console. Kreik clocked the dog. She hesitated for a fraction of a second, having input her access code seconds before, but then she wasn’t head of strategic operations at Starfleet Command for nothing.
“You’ll take the Lone Star from Utopia Planitia to Kincardine and complete its final warp tests on the way. Then slipstream tests. Then we’ll get you to push her as far as you can go.”
As Kreik spoke, navigational charts, tactical and scientific data appeared in front of him. “Broadly speaking, you’re on the same beat as before. You’re to take the Lone Star to the furthest and most unlikely places you can get to. Safely,” she added, knowing that de l’Isle’s penchant for disregarding boundaries was practically unlimited.
“Of course,” Felix lied, avoiding her gaze by scanning the latest batch of classified files. The locations and mission profiles flashed correspondingly on the holomap: deep space cartography, anomalies, a few ‘last known coordinates’ investigations, excluded areas; the galactic core. The flag officer interrupted before he became distracted by his lust for the unknown.
“We want to put some exciting opportunities your way before too long. But you must bring your house to order first.”
Kreik’s look contained too much intrigue for Felix’s liking at this point in the call. “Who’s done what,” he half-asked, fully expecting the answer to be him. He liked less how the look began to brew.
A file appeared on his screen. Rather than looking for individual names, he had learned to look at the head-count of reprimands at the bottom. Over two hundred. Felix whistled. It was a record, even by the Lone Star’s standards.
“You’re about the only member of your senior and junior staff not to have received a complaint, reprimand or reassignment order.”
This time Felix interrupted her – something Kreik clearly was not accustomed to. “Respectfully, Admiral, there is a reason they’re assigned to the Lone Star.”
Kreik grunted a grudging agreement past her rows of teeth. Felix exhaled, like a Ferengi after the funds had cleared. It could have gone very badly.
“Discipline will be top of your agenda. You’re going to have to fight for a couple of them, Captain. A couple of these were hanging on by the skin of their teeth.” She seemed to be looking at specific names. Felix gulped.
“I hear the chief of operations at Utopia Planitia has locked himself in his study until your chief engineer has left the premises. She – she talks to her machinery. It distresses him.”
“Edie’s worked more starship engines than the rest of the engineering corps put together.” Mathematically it wasn’t far from the truth. “I’ll deal with the rest of them, Admiral. They behave when they’re where I can see them.”
Lester cast him a regard that seemed to say sure, sometimes but Felix overlooked it. There was one name in particular that rankled him. He winced, but Kreik was on a different track.
“They had better. The Lone Star is an asset, Captain."
Felix experienced an oh, fuck drop. Some kind of pre-emptive bollocking was in order. It was imperative that he look sincere. It was time for The Talk. Sincere.
“It is time you showed us what she can do. The Lone Star is the fleet’s… darling.” Kreik had clear discomfort with this word, facially. “Starfleet requires positive examples and your ship is for some reason an emblem. Third-generation slipstream drive. Quantum cartography. First contact ready. Evacuation and warship capable. She’s a jewel of the fleet and we want to see results.”
Every feature sounded like a threat. Lester willed Felix not to smirk and it didn’t, quite, work. Felix’s best and worst feature – his mouth – began to move into motion before he, the dog or anyone else could do anything about it. Kreik was still talking. Then she wasn’t, but her face wanted an answer. She was about to get it.
“Thing is, Admiral.”
What he’d tried to explain went along the lines of the deep reverence he held for his motley crew and their unique ability to solve the universe’s problems; that he, Felix de l’Isle, was for some reason good at channelling that and making it work.
“The Lone Star’s a weird one. All these minds that people can’t cope with. We’re all an inconvenience but we’re too good to throw away. The fact is that Starfleet doesn’t know what to do with us, so it puts us on a ship and tells us to go as far as we can.”
“What’s your point, Captain?”
Felix could see Kreik’s patience thinning and didn’t care. The chink of grin turned to a shard of sunlight. He spun the 3D map like caramel beneath his fingers.
“Funny how the exceptionally abled are seen so differently, Admiral. But this list tells me they’re all functioning as they should,” he said, pointing decisively at an irrelevant console beyond her perspective. “They’ve been out pushing boundaries. Testing people’s differences. Making their presence felt. Saving the world.”
Felix shrugged something invisible off his shoulder. “And given half a chance they make the best damned team you could find. We’ve completed two five-year tours in the strangest parts of space and come back to tell the tale. The Lone Star is a weird one, Admiral. But we can do something else no other starship can.”
Here it came. “We can do the job and then some, sir. Don’t tell me how to lead my pack.”
Kreik's face imploded. Felix watched as his career disappeared in her gnashing Klingon maw. Then it broke into a laugh; the kind that hadn’t been used in a while.
“You are either very clever or very brave, Captain de l’Isle,” she fizzed. It had worked but she had had enough. “Go to your ship, warp eight. Collect your crew. And fill your words with worth.”
He could tell she’d said the last phrase in Klingon.
“Qapla’!” Felix said, enthusiastically.
“Qapla’,” Kreik replied cynically, her eyebrow quirking as the transmission ended.
-=-=-=-
Fleet Admiral Kreik, Chief of Strategic Operations, Starfleet Command
and Captain Felix de l'Isle, CO, USS Lone Star
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