OFF: This mission takes place in 2394 approximately 2 years after Mission 22, which was in 2392. Any additional character development that players would like to do regarding this gap in time can be written in the Character Development area of the forum.
ON:
<<USS Malinche, Ready Room, Day 1, 1445>>
Isabel brought the cup of chai tea to her lips slowly as she read over the most recent department reports. Their last couple missions hadn't been particularly exciting, but that wasn't necessarily bad, in her opinion. The Malinche had had her share of...intriguing missions anyway. Their latest mission had brought them back to the Sol System - they had been dropping off a team of researchers and the last one was to be returned to Earth. So, for the first time in quite awhile, the Malinche would be docking at Earth Spacedock.
As she set down the PADD she'd been perusing, Isabel heard her doorchime. "Enter," she called out.
Awen (PNPC) walked into the Ready Room, moving inside and pausing just in front of her Commanding Officer's desk. "Captain, we've arrived and docked at Earth Spacedock. As I understand it, additional potential transfers are coming through. Once we have all of them, I'll bring them to you." Glancing over at the PADD Isabel had in front of her, the Bajoran frowned, "I was going to take care of the departmental reports once we arrived, Captain. I can take over if you want."
"I'm nearly done, but thank you Commander. I believe some of those transfers are for Security/Tactical, so I imagine you'll want to take a closer look at those? I'd also like you to make sure everyone has a chance for shoreleave while we bring aboard the new crew," Isabel responded, smiling at her Chief Security/Tactical and Executive Officer. "That includes you, Awen."
Nodding, Awen said, "I'll look through all of them, but yes, I'll be looking especially close at the Security/Tactical candidates. And I'll be sure to take some shoreleave, provided you do as well, Isabel." She raised an eyebrow and watched her Commanding Officer closely. Seeing Isabel nod, the Bajoran said, "I'll leave you to it, Captain. Let me know if you need anything."
"Thank you," Isabel replied as she watched Awen turn and leave the Ready Room. It had taken a little getting used to, having Awen as her Executive Officer. She'd gotten used to having Nora there and the rapport between them, but Nora had been transferred off of the Malinche two years ago along with some of her other staff after they returned from their refit shakedown. At the time, they'd found what appeared to be an old satellite that had partly been taken over by Borg technology. It was one of a few remnants they'd found in the past few years, which was rather disconcerting.
Isabel frowned slightly. She still missed Nora's company at times, as well as some of her other former crew. But they'd been needed elsewhere and the Malinche had continued, as she always did. Part of her was interested to find out who Starfleet wanted to transfer to her ship. If what Awen said was true, she wouldn't have long to wait.
Standing, Isabel moved back from her desk and looked out the viewport. Earth Spacedock crew were scurrying about, either finishing off the Malinche's docking procedures or perhaps preparing to come aboard. In theory, the Malinche didn't need any repairs, but the shipyard crew might have their own ideas about that. Either way, Isabel was confident that Derek would handle them, if need be.
She sat back down at her desk and picked up the next department report. Time to finish her work, at least for now. Isabel hadn't figured out where she would go for her shoreleave or what she would do... Perhaps something would present itself or maybe she'd just visit the Promenade. Work first, though.
OFF: Tag any
Mission 23 - Back For More
Moderators: Tournneau, Korath, Kersare
Mission 23 - Back For More
Captain Isabel Kersare
Commanding Officer
USS Malinche NCC-38997-A
Re: Mission 23 - Back For More
ON:
<<USS Malinche, NCC-38997-A -- Main Engineering -- Shoreleave Day 01 -- 1430 Hours>>
The deck below Derek’s feet thrummed softly as the ship slowed for its final approach into the Sol system. Lt. Cdr. Tournneau was monitoring the ship’s progress on a holographic display in the primary alcove as he monitored and tweaked the system. His engines had been running at their high cruise velocity of Warp Eight for several days and had settled into their paces; staging them down properly was akin to a runner taking a cool-down lap. It put less stress on the dilithium matrix, and as a result, the chief engineer.
“Now entering Sol system,” Lt. Doram, (NPC) the helm officer’s voice said over the comms. “Approaching the traffic perimeter at Luna orbit.”
“Roger that, Ms. Doram, all systems nominal; impulse and thrusters are standing by,” Derek replied.
Derek turned back to the hologram, watching as the view changed to a heliocentric overview of the solar system. The Malinche streaked through the outer bands of the Oort cloud and the Kuiper belt. After couple minutes, the ship’s warp engines disengaged, and the holographic view switched to the external camera. The warp lines resovled into starpoints, and the moon and its more distant, blue parent planet rapidly filled the display.
Earth. Home.
Derek was filled with a pleasant sense of anticipation. He had not been home in several years. Certainly, he had been in contact with his family regularly, sometimes over a holo-communicator when the connection was good, but it wasn’t the same as setting foot on the ground, breathing the cold Pacific air, and embracing loved ones without the detachment of a hologram.
But there were still tasks to perform, and Derek brought himself back to his duties as the ship approached Spacedock.
=^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^=
<<CEO’s Office -- 1715 Hours>>
The repair crew from Spacedock had been on board for about an hour and was already performing their diagnostics. Derek was finishing up his log reports before he formally turned the ship over to the Spacedock team for repairs. Even after two years, there wasn’t much that needed fixing: a few sections of hull plating could do with replacement after being patched up on the fly; there were two structural ribs that had been over-torqued that needed replacement; the dilithium matrices could use a little re-tuning; some light corrosion in the warp coils that could be easily repaired in Spacedock; and the usual supply requisitions and maintenance checks.
As he was typing in the last requisition form, the door chimed.
“Enter,” Derek murmured as he continued working.
The door opened and Viradia Beladd (PNPC), the Assistant Chief walked in holding several datapads.
“Hello sir, I have my recommendations and logs ready to go,” the tall Bolian woman said as she placed the datapads on the only empty patch of desk she could find. “I trust you’ll be taking shoreleave as well?” She placed her hands on her hips, and glanced mock-unapprovingly at the paperwork that Derek was working on. She knew that her commanding officer was quite talented, but she also knew that he had a tendency to push red tape off to the last minute.
Derek leaned back from his terminal to look up at Viradia. He raised an eyebrow sarcastically to match her continued glare. “Yes, V - I’m almost done. I’ve got lots of leave saved up and I’m taking as much as I can while we’re docked. I believe we’ll be here for several days at the least.”
The two officers had built a great friendship and respect for one another over the past two years. They understood each other in a very natural way, and found they had a number of common interests besides their ship. They were both at the top of their field, and they enjoyed knowing that they could trust one another to handle the department. That trust was made all the easier now that they were the best of friends. Viradia appreciated that Derek’s leadership style was very flexible, and Derek appreciated Viradia’s candor and creativity.
She crossed her arms and nodded. “Well, I’m glad to hear it, sir. I’m going to go back down to San Francisco for a few days, catch up with some old friends from the Academy. I was thinking of seeing some more of the Pacific as well - reminds me of home.”
“That sounds like a plan, Viradia. I’m going to go home and visit the family, spend some time there.”
“Your family lives in...the northwest somewhere?”
“Seattle, yes,” Derek said. “On the Pacific coast - you know, if you want to see the Pacific you should come and see Seattle at some point. It’s very different from San Fran - temperature is the same, but it’s much grayer, wetter. It’s not nearly as bustling - there are even still wildernesses nearby; but the city is quite cosmopolitan.”
“Certainly, that would be nice. I never actually visited there when I was on Earth. Perhaps, in a few days then?”
“That sounds good, just give me a call when you’re on your way.”
“Sure thing, Commander.” Her orange eyes glanced down at his covered desk. “Well, I’ll be off then. Have a good...paperwork.”
Derek chuckled “Yes, yes, thank you Lieutenant. Have a good trip.”
Viradia gave a perfunctory salute, which Derek returned.
=^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^=
<<Deck 3 Hallway -- 1745 Hours>>
Derek was, by now, one of the last of the personnel disembarking for shore leave. It seemed as if very nearly the entire crew was waiting at the airlock or had already beamed away. The ship was already very sparsely inhabited - Derek saw perhaps two crewmembers as he headed to the transporter room. He was carrying two large cases, and he had changed into some civilian clothes - leather jacket, dark denim trousers, and a colorful red and gold scarf that his mother had made many years ago. He was starting to sweat on board the ship, but he knew he would seriously regret beaming into a damp Seattle winter without the proper attire.
He entered the transporter room and found the room empty. He was keying in the coordinates for the Seattle city center transit pad, when the door opened and Viradia came in. She was also carrying cases with her, and was dressed for the cool but comfortable San Fransisco weather. She was wearing a thick orange turtleneck, which contrasted with her blue skin. She had a matching beanie cap covering her bald head, and was wearing dark brown trousers.
“Oh, hello Tournneau - I thought you already left.”
Derek smiled at the pleasant surprise. “Well, you know how it is Lieutenant,” Derek responded, “I thought you had likewise already disembarked.” Derek continued to key in the coordinates for an autonomous beaming.
“Here sir, allow me - I’ll beam you down.” Viradia set her belongings down and shooed Tournneau away from the console. Derek shrugged resignedly, collected his bags, and stood on the pad.
“Seattle city center, it’s keyed in there -”
“Yes, Derek, I do see that,” Viradia said with a sarcastic grin. She made the last few adjustments and looked up to her passenger. “I’ll see you in a few. Energizing.” Her hand swiped over the console and Derek’s view shifted.
Even though he had been beamed hundreds of times, he still found transportation to be both disorienting and thrilling. He paused as the coils engaged, and Viradia’s orange-eyed gaze was replaced by the bright ambience of the matter stream. He reflexively closed his eyes, but the brightness remained, as his eyes didn't exist anymore.
The matter stream darkened, and the foot of the Seattle Space Needle came into view. As the transport cycle completed, the forcefield keeping his volume of space together dissipated, and the warm, odorless air of the Malinche was swiftly replaced with the bracing, misty air of the city. He looked up at the familiar Needle. It was now dwarfed by the modern buildings surrounding it, yet still it remained the icon of the city. Derek stepped off the pad and headed for his parents’ apartment.
OFF
Lieutenant JG Melanie Doram (NPC)
Astronavigation Specialist
Lieutenant Viradia Beladd (PNPC)
Assistant Chief Engineering Officer
and
<<USS Malinche, NCC-38997-A -- Main Engineering -- Shoreleave Day 01 -- 1430 Hours>>
The deck below Derek’s feet thrummed softly as the ship slowed for its final approach into the Sol system. Lt. Cdr. Tournneau was monitoring the ship’s progress on a holographic display in the primary alcove as he monitored and tweaked the system. His engines had been running at their high cruise velocity of Warp Eight for several days and had settled into their paces; staging them down properly was akin to a runner taking a cool-down lap. It put less stress on the dilithium matrix, and as a result, the chief engineer.
“Now entering Sol system,” Lt. Doram, (NPC) the helm officer’s voice said over the comms. “Approaching the traffic perimeter at Luna orbit.”
“Roger that, Ms. Doram, all systems nominal; impulse and thrusters are standing by,” Derek replied.
Derek turned back to the hologram, watching as the view changed to a heliocentric overview of the solar system. The Malinche streaked through the outer bands of the Oort cloud and the Kuiper belt. After couple minutes, the ship’s warp engines disengaged, and the holographic view switched to the external camera. The warp lines resovled into starpoints, and the moon and its more distant, blue parent planet rapidly filled the display.
Earth. Home.
Derek was filled with a pleasant sense of anticipation. He had not been home in several years. Certainly, he had been in contact with his family regularly, sometimes over a holo-communicator when the connection was good, but it wasn’t the same as setting foot on the ground, breathing the cold Pacific air, and embracing loved ones without the detachment of a hologram.
But there were still tasks to perform, and Derek brought himself back to his duties as the ship approached Spacedock.
=^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^=
<<CEO’s Office -- 1715 Hours>>
The repair crew from Spacedock had been on board for about an hour and was already performing their diagnostics. Derek was finishing up his log reports before he formally turned the ship over to the Spacedock team for repairs. Even after two years, there wasn’t much that needed fixing: a few sections of hull plating could do with replacement after being patched up on the fly; there were two structural ribs that had been over-torqued that needed replacement; the dilithium matrices could use a little re-tuning; some light corrosion in the warp coils that could be easily repaired in Spacedock; and the usual supply requisitions and maintenance checks.
As he was typing in the last requisition form, the door chimed.
“Enter,” Derek murmured as he continued working.
The door opened and Viradia Beladd (PNPC), the Assistant Chief walked in holding several datapads.
“Hello sir, I have my recommendations and logs ready to go,” the tall Bolian woman said as she placed the datapads on the only empty patch of desk she could find. “I trust you’ll be taking shoreleave as well?” She placed her hands on her hips, and glanced mock-unapprovingly at the paperwork that Derek was working on. She knew that her commanding officer was quite talented, but she also knew that he had a tendency to push red tape off to the last minute.
Derek leaned back from his terminal to look up at Viradia. He raised an eyebrow sarcastically to match her continued glare. “Yes, V - I’m almost done. I’ve got lots of leave saved up and I’m taking as much as I can while we’re docked. I believe we’ll be here for several days at the least.”
The two officers had built a great friendship and respect for one another over the past two years. They understood each other in a very natural way, and found they had a number of common interests besides their ship. They were both at the top of their field, and they enjoyed knowing that they could trust one another to handle the department. That trust was made all the easier now that they were the best of friends. Viradia appreciated that Derek’s leadership style was very flexible, and Derek appreciated Viradia’s candor and creativity.
She crossed her arms and nodded. “Well, I’m glad to hear it, sir. I’m going to go back down to San Francisco for a few days, catch up with some old friends from the Academy. I was thinking of seeing some more of the Pacific as well - reminds me of home.”
“That sounds like a plan, Viradia. I’m going to go home and visit the family, spend some time there.”
“Your family lives in...the northwest somewhere?”
“Seattle, yes,” Derek said. “On the Pacific coast - you know, if you want to see the Pacific you should come and see Seattle at some point. It’s very different from San Fran - temperature is the same, but it’s much grayer, wetter. It’s not nearly as bustling - there are even still wildernesses nearby; but the city is quite cosmopolitan.”
“Certainly, that would be nice. I never actually visited there when I was on Earth. Perhaps, in a few days then?”
“That sounds good, just give me a call when you’re on your way.”
“Sure thing, Commander.” Her orange eyes glanced down at his covered desk. “Well, I’ll be off then. Have a good...paperwork.”
Derek chuckled “Yes, yes, thank you Lieutenant. Have a good trip.”
Viradia gave a perfunctory salute, which Derek returned.
=^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^=
<<Deck 3 Hallway -- 1745 Hours>>
Derek was, by now, one of the last of the personnel disembarking for shore leave. It seemed as if very nearly the entire crew was waiting at the airlock or had already beamed away. The ship was already very sparsely inhabited - Derek saw perhaps two crewmembers as he headed to the transporter room. He was carrying two large cases, and he had changed into some civilian clothes - leather jacket, dark denim trousers, and a colorful red and gold scarf that his mother had made many years ago. He was starting to sweat on board the ship, but he knew he would seriously regret beaming into a damp Seattle winter without the proper attire.
He entered the transporter room and found the room empty. He was keying in the coordinates for the Seattle city center transit pad, when the door opened and Viradia came in. She was also carrying cases with her, and was dressed for the cool but comfortable San Fransisco weather. She was wearing a thick orange turtleneck, which contrasted with her blue skin. She had a matching beanie cap covering her bald head, and was wearing dark brown trousers.
“Oh, hello Tournneau - I thought you already left.”
Derek smiled at the pleasant surprise. “Well, you know how it is Lieutenant,” Derek responded, “I thought you had likewise already disembarked.” Derek continued to key in the coordinates for an autonomous beaming.
“Here sir, allow me - I’ll beam you down.” Viradia set her belongings down and shooed Tournneau away from the console. Derek shrugged resignedly, collected his bags, and stood on the pad.
“Seattle city center, it’s keyed in there -”
“Yes, Derek, I do see that,” Viradia said with a sarcastic grin. She made the last few adjustments and looked up to her passenger. “I’ll see you in a few. Energizing.” Her hand swiped over the console and Derek’s view shifted.
Even though he had been beamed hundreds of times, he still found transportation to be both disorienting and thrilling. He paused as the coils engaged, and Viradia’s orange-eyed gaze was replaced by the bright ambience of the matter stream. He reflexively closed his eyes, but the brightness remained, as his eyes didn't exist anymore.
The matter stream darkened, and the foot of the Seattle Space Needle came into view. As the transport cycle completed, the forcefield keeping his volume of space together dissipated, and the warm, odorless air of the Malinche was swiftly replaced with the bracing, misty air of the city. He looked up at the familiar Needle. It was now dwarfed by the modern buildings surrounding it, yet still it remained the icon of the city. Derek stepped off the pad and headed for his parents’ apartment.
OFF
Lieutenant JG Melanie Doram (NPC)
Astronavigation Specialist
Lieutenant Viradia Beladd (PNPC)
Assistant Chief Engineering Officer
and
Lieutenant Commander Derek Tournneau
Chief Engineering Officer
USS Malinche NCC-38997-A
Re: Mission 23 - Back For More
ON:
<<Kerry Park, Seattle, Earth -- Shoreleave Day 01 -- 1800 Hours>>
Derek looked up at the tall residence tower overlooking Kerry Park. It had a choice view of the city center that he had just walked through, and was very modern. It was a beautiful, organically curved glass building that stretched at least fifty floors into the sky. It was next to buildings similar to it in style and function. The street bustled with beautiful young people, heading out for a night on the town.
Not the house from our childhood, that’s for sure, Derek thought wistfully. He entered the building and made his way to the turbolifts as he continued reminiscing.
The home he had grown up in was much more modest than this grandiose central apartment. Back then, his mother’s trading fleet consisted of two broken down old freighters, and they were barely turning a profit. However, his father’s position as a climate control specialist for the region gave them an allocation in a well-to-do semi-rural community on the outskirts of the city. The old home was still built in the modern style, concrete and glass and asymmetry.
His mother, Rachel (PNPC), had managed the trading company from a small home office, and shared a large workshop with his father behind the house. His father, Andres (PNPC), used it to repair faulty weather control equipment, and his mother used it to augment the trading company with a parts repair service. Many of the old traders came to rely on that service to keep their ships’ older equipment running that couldn’t be replaced by modern facilities.
I might have gone to school, but that shop was where I received my real education, Derek thought as he stepped into the turbolift.
“Apartment 45 - Tournneau Residence,” he ordered to the lift. The lift bleeped warmly, in careful tones befitting its finely trimmed interior, and began moving.
But, fortune favors the bold, as they say, Derek continued.
While it was true that there was no want for material needs on Earth, latinum still makes the world go ‘round. Derek’s family couldn’t just demand that they live in this enormous, cosmopolitan apartment when he was a child. The allocations board decided how much home you could have based on your merits and contributions, especially if you had no familial claims to land or property. You were free to decide where and how you lived, but only within your pre-determined means.
The only way to circumvent that system was with private properties and material wealth, which the Tournneau Trading Co. soon found itself having in abundance when the Dominion War started. As Derek fought on the front lines, his parents made a small fortune bringing relief supplies to some of the border worlds that others couldn’t, or rather, wouldn’t. It was not as glamorous or exciting as the fleet battles were, but was perhaps just as dangerous.
The glut of contracts from the border throughout the war allowed his parents to purchase this incredible suite once the conflict ended. It also allowed his mother to upgrade and grow her small aging ships into a modest fleet with several top-of-the-line civilian starships. It was a trading fleet that, once the war was over, Derek left Starfleet to serve for nine years.
Nine wonderful, incredibly happy years.
Until…
Derek tried to push away the darkest memory, but it refused to fade.
Until, the day he lost his ship, his captain, his wife, and his world. The day he lost Anaya.
It was in the aftermath of that awful travesty that he found himself in living in his family’s current apartment for the first time. He convalesced here, physically and emotionally, for a little over a year before he made his decision to rejoin Starfleet. It was for that reason (well, the luxury of it all certainly didn’t hurt) that Derek enjoyed visiting. It was a place of healing for him, the place where he was able to put himself back together and find himself again.
The turbolift slowed and halted, and the doors opened. Derek found himself in the foyer of the apartment. It was a wide, open space that continued on into the main floor of the open concept suite. The ceilings were very tall, reaching five meters high. After being on a starship for the past two years, Derek found the height almost vertigo-inducing. The floors were a glossy black that was permeated with small, irregular silvery flecks. The far wall, across the main living space, was all glass, revealing a panoramic view of the city center. The iconic Space Needle where he had just come from was visible, nestled among the taller skyscrapers of the downtown area.
All told, the Tournneaus occupied the entire 45th floor, with living spaces for his parents, his brother, and his sister; there was also an adjoining business suite where his mother conducted the trading company and her executive employees worked during the day; and a large workshop that serviced parts for customers, as well as his father’s work in the climate control service. Finally, there was also a small shuttlebay that housed the civilian version of a type-11 shuttle.
“Derek!”
Before he could turn towards the source of the voice that called his name, Derek was nearly knocked over by someone, now embracing him in a bear hug.
“Adelaide! It’s good to be back.” He dropped his cases and returned his sister’s hug, then prised her away and held her at arm’s length. She (PNPC) was still dressed in her more executive business attire from the work day. His little sister, at age 33, was learning and running the financial side of things. “You look well - how is the business going?”
His sister’s smile softened a little. “It’s going well - Q4 was fairly successful for us, but we were expecting a bit more from---”
“Not the trading company,” Derek chortled, “I meant that man-friend of yours that’s been chasing you around!”
His sister blushed furiously. “Derek! It’s going...well it’s going, let’s just leave it at that.” She playfully slapped his hands off of her shoulders. “Now, come on, let’s get you settled in to your room, I’m sure Mom and Dad will want to see you as soon as you’re ready.”
Derek picked up his cases and followed Adelaide through the side hallway into the junior wing of the apartment where the children kept residence. Adelaide and younger brother, John (PNPC), had their own suites (what passed for most people as full apartments) in this area. Even though he was away from Earth most of the time, they also kept a smaller, but still lavish, suite available for Derek. Adelaide opened the door to his suite. There was a moderately-sized and well-furnished common area with a view of the city, and an adjoining bedroom. The suite was easily three times the size of his quarters aboard the Malinche, not taking into account the high ceiling.
“Here you are - make yourself comfortable, but don’t take too long - Dad’s working on something special in the kitchen.”
“Thanks, Addy, I’ll be there in just a minute.” He embraced her and gave her a kiss on the cheek, and she turned back to the main hall.
Derek put his bags in his bedroom, intending to unpack them later. He freshened up in the restroom and headed back to the main hall, stopping to gaze at the city for a minute. It seemed to bristle with life. Countless people could be seen walking on the streets, and the skies were specked with various air vehicles and the occasioinal spacecraft breaking for orbit. Much of the city looked the same as he remembered it, but it seemed to have a renewed vibrancy.
He broke himself away from the window and headed back into the main living area of the apartment, and turned to the kitchen. While his parents could certainly just replicate food, or even afford to have someone prepare food for them, his father Andres had always had a love for the art of cooking. He especially enjoyed doing it on holidays or special occasions - his son returning home to visit after two years certainly qualified.
He entered the kitchen and found his family gathered there. His mother was standing at the bar with his sister and his younger brother, John. They were quietly talking and laughing lightly over some anecdote or another. His mother, eighty-five now, was also still dressed from the workday and wore an elegant black dress with white highlights. The dress complimented her dark skin and brilliant white hair, tied in a tight bun. His brother was also there, still dressed for work but reflecting the side of the business that he was picking up - grey coveralls that were lightly smudged with grease.
His sister and brother were closer in coloration to his father, but looked very much like his mother. He was somewhat the opposite, taking after his father’s features but being considerably darker than his siblings.
His father, now eighty-three, was very fair-skinned and still had brown highlights in his grey hair. He was standing over the range, slowly stirring a pot. The smell of lemon and spices filled the room.
They all seemed to notice his entrance at once. His mother smiled and came to embrace him, and handed him one of the drinks that they had been enjoying.
“Welcome home, Derek,” his mother said to him.
“Yes, good to see you in the flesh old man,” his father said, “And Happy New Year, although it’s a few days late. I’m making some lemon butter chicken, your favorite as I recall.”
=^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^=
<<Tournneau Residence -- 2215 Hours>>
Derek had a lovely dinner and conversation with his family. Afterwards, his parents excused themselves to retire for the evening. It had been a long day for everyone, and he was ready to settle in as well. He and his brother were talking in the living room, drinking a few more cocktails and watching the city.
“So, Derek,” his brother continued, “tell me more about this..Viridian...Veradio…”
“Viradia,” Derek stated. He smiled, rolling his eyes and shaking his head. “Look, there’s not much to tell. At least, not the way you think it is. We’re just good friends is all. We’re colleagues. She’s my assistant.”
“Mmhmm,” John said in a very unconvinced tone as he took another sip from his glass. “So let me get this straight: you guys are ‘best friends’ now, and you do almost everything together in your free time?”
“Yeah, I mean, we both like mystery holonovels, so we do some of those...and we usually eat together...and, yes.”
“And you’re not dating each other?”
“No, I just said that,” Derek said, with a hint of frustration coming through his good mood.
“Aaaand, you’re not dating other people?”
“Well, no - I don’t really have time for that, and I don’t think she’s really expressed interest in anyone on the ship.”
“So explain how you’re not dating again?” His brother laughed as he drained his glass.
Derek put his head in his hands and groaned, then looked back at his brother.
“Look John, it’s more complicated than that,” Derek began listing with his fingers, “We serve together, Starfleet’s a military organization and I’m her superior officer, we’re both interested in our careers now, we--”
“That didn’t stop you before,” his brother said, wincing as he did. He meant well, but immediately regretted saying it.
Derek’s face fell instantly. He reduced the fingers he was counting on to just the longest one. He didn’t want to get angry, but he was starting to.
“I’m sorry, bro,” John backpedaled, “I shouldn’t have gone there. Especially…”
“Especially because the day is this week?” Derek retorted.
“Yes, especially so. I’m sorry,” John apologized again, “but I just want to see you happy, D.”
Derek took a deep breath and softened his gaze. “I know, John. I’m sorry. I just...like I said...it’s - “
“Complicated, yes. Look, this is the last thing I’ll say about it tonight,” his brother continued as he stood up, “but maybe...you’re making it more complicated than it has to be. It’s good to remember the past, but I think you’re holding on to it too tight.” John hugged his brother, who continued to sit. “I love you, man. It’s good to see you again.”
“You too,” Derek said tiredly. He watched as his brother left the room, then turned his attention to the cityscape.
Deep down, he knew his brother was right. He was only twenty-nine, but he sometimes seemed to have his head screwed on better than the rest of the family. But he was still conflicted. He wasn’t sure if it was out of a sense of loyalty, a sense of duty, fear of rejection, or fear of loss - maybe a combination of all of those and more. His friendship with Viradia seemed so natural, and he didn’t want to ruin it - and potentially run off a good officer - in the process of expressing his feelings. But his feelings remained, despite his best intentions.
“Well, drinking more of these isn’t going to help anyone,” Derek said aloud to himself. “Time to unpack and hit the sack.” He kicked back the rest of the drink, stood up - slowly - and went back to his room.
=^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^=
When he got back to his suite, he picked up the first suitcase by the door and carried it to the bedroom, intending to change into some pajamas. He opened it a and pulled out ---
A bra.
A very orange, very lacy bra.
What the hell? Derek’s slightly inebriated mind darted immediately to his brother - perhaps a little welcome home joke?
But then he remembered.
Viradia beamed him down. She put down her bags. He picked up his bags. The bags all looked the same because they were Starfleet issue.
Shit.
Of course, this happens now. Of all people too - why couldn’t I mix up bags with Fields or something?
Derek pulled his combadge out of his pocket.
“Tournneau to Beladd.” The response took about a minute.
“Umm, Beladd here Commander, any problems?” Viradia’s voice came through, muffled by what sounded like loud music in the background.
“No, no problems per se, nothing urgent,” Derek said, “but you won’t believe what I found in my bag.”
OFF
Adelaide Tournneau (PNPC)
Chief Financial Officer,
Tournneau Trading Co.
Rachel Tournneau (PNPC)
President,
Tournneau Trading Co.
Andres Tournneau (PNPC)
Director,
Earth Climate Control, North/Central America
John Tournneau (PNPC)
Chief Engineer,
Tournneau Astromech Industries
Lieutenant Viradia Beladd (PNPC)
Assistant Chief Engineer,
USS Malinche 38997-A
and
<<Kerry Park, Seattle, Earth -- Shoreleave Day 01 -- 1800 Hours>>
Derek looked up at the tall residence tower overlooking Kerry Park. It had a choice view of the city center that he had just walked through, and was very modern. It was a beautiful, organically curved glass building that stretched at least fifty floors into the sky. It was next to buildings similar to it in style and function. The street bustled with beautiful young people, heading out for a night on the town.
Not the house from our childhood, that’s for sure, Derek thought wistfully. He entered the building and made his way to the turbolifts as he continued reminiscing.
The home he had grown up in was much more modest than this grandiose central apartment. Back then, his mother’s trading fleet consisted of two broken down old freighters, and they were barely turning a profit. However, his father’s position as a climate control specialist for the region gave them an allocation in a well-to-do semi-rural community on the outskirts of the city. The old home was still built in the modern style, concrete and glass and asymmetry.
His mother, Rachel (PNPC), had managed the trading company from a small home office, and shared a large workshop with his father behind the house. His father, Andres (PNPC), used it to repair faulty weather control equipment, and his mother used it to augment the trading company with a parts repair service. Many of the old traders came to rely on that service to keep their ships’ older equipment running that couldn’t be replaced by modern facilities.
I might have gone to school, but that shop was where I received my real education, Derek thought as he stepped into the turbolift.
“Apartment 45 - Tournneau Residence,” he ordered to the lift. The lift bleeped warmly, in careful tones befitting its finely trimmed interior, and began moving.
But, fortune favors the bold, as they say, Derek continued.
While it was true that there was no want for material needs on Earth, latinum still makes the world go ‘round. Derek’s family couldn’t just demand that they live in this enormous, cosmopolitan apartment when he was a child. The allocations board decided how much home you could have based on your merits and contributions, especially if you had no familial claims to land or property. You were free to decide where and how you lived, but only within your pre-determined means.
The only way to circumvent that system was with private properties and material wealth, which the Tournneau Trading Co. soon found itself having in abundance when the Dominion War started. As Derek fought on the front lines, his parents made a small fortune bringing relief supplies to some of the border worlds that others couldn’t, or rather, wouldn’t. It was not as glamorous or exciting as the fleet battles were, but was perhaps just as dangerous.
The glut of contracts from the border throughout the war allowed his parents to purchase this incredible suite once the conflict ended. It also allowed his mother to upgrade and grow her small aging ships into a modest fleet with several top-of-the-line civilian starships. It was a trading fleet that, once the war was over, Derek left Starfleet to serve for nine years.
Nine wonderful, incredibly happy years.
Until…
Derek tried to push away the darkest memory, but it refused to fade.
Until, the day he lost his ship, his captain, his wife, and his world. The day he lost Anaya.
It was in the aftermath of that awful travesty that he found himself in living in his family’s current apartment for the first time. He convalesced here, physically and emotionally, for a little over a year before he made his decision to rejoin Starfleet. It was for that reason (well, the luxury of it all certainly didn’t hurt) that Derek enjoyed visiting. It was a place of healing for him, the place where he was able to put himself back together and find himself again.
The turbolift slowed and halted, and the doors opened. Derek found himself in the foyer of the apartment. It was a wide, open space that continued on into the main floor of the open concept suite. The ceilings were very tall, reaching five meters high. After being on a starship for the past two years, Derek found the height almost vertigo-inducing. The floors were a glossy black that was permeated with small, irregular silvery flecks. The far wall, across the main living space, was all glass, revealing a panoramic view of the city center. The iconic Space Needle where he had just come from was visible, nestled among the taller skyscrapers of the downtown area.
All told, the Tournneaus occupied the entire 45th floor, with living spaces for his parents, his brother, and his sister; there was also an adjoining business suite where his mother conducted the trading company and her executive employees worked during the day; and a large workshop that serviced parts for customers, as well as his father’s work in the climate control service. Finally, there was also a small shuttlebay that housed the civilian version of a type-11 shuttle.
“Derek!”
Before he could turn towards the source of the voice that called his name, Derek was nearly knocked over by someone, now embracing him in a bear hug.
“Adelaide! It’s good to be back.” He dropped his cases and returned his sister’s hug, then prised her away and held her at arm’s length. She (PNPC) was still dressed in her more executive business attire from the work day. His little sister, at age 33, was learning and running the financial side of things. “You look well - how is the business going?”
His sister’s smile softened a little. “It’s going well - Q4 was fairly successful for us, but we were expecting a bit more from---”
“Not the trading company,” Derek chortled, “I meant that man-friend of yours that’s been chasing you around!”
His sister blushed furiously. “Derek! It’s going...well it’s going, let’s just leave it at that.” She playfully slapped his hands off of her shoulders. “Now, come on, let’s get you settled in to your room, I’m sure Mom and Dad will want to see you as soon as you’re ready.”
Derek picked up his cases and followed Adelaide through the side hallway into the junior wing of the apartment where the children kept residence. Adelaide and younger brother, John (PNPC), had their own suites (what passed for most people as full apartments) in this area. Even though he was away from Earth most of the time, they also kept a smaller, but still lavish, suite available for Derek. Adelaide opened the door to his suite. There was a moderately-sized and well-furnished common area with a view of the city, and an adjoining bedroom. The suite was easily three times the size of his quarters aboard the Malinche, not taking into account the high ceiling.
“Here you are - make yourself comfortable, but don’t take too long - Dad’s working on something special in the kitchen.”
“Thanks, Addy, I’ll be there in just a minute.” He embraced her and gave her a kiss on the cheek, and she turned back to the main hall.
Derek put his bags in his bedroom, intending to unpack them later. He freshened up in the restroom and headed back to the main hall, stopping to gaze at the city for a minute. It seemed to bristle with life. Countless people could be seen walking on the streets, and the skies were specked with various air vehicles and the occasioinal spacecraft breaking for orbit. Much of the city looked the same as he remembered it, but it seemed to have a renewed vibrancy.
He broke himself away from the window and headed back into the main living area of the apartment, and turned to the kitchen. While his parents could certainly just replicate food, or even afford to have someone prepare food for them, his father Andres had always had a love for the art of cooking. He especially enjoyed doing it on holidays or special occasions - his son returning home to visit after two years certainly qualified.
He entered the kitchen and found his family gathered there. His mother was standing at the bar with his sister and his younger brother, John. They were quietly talking and laughing lightly over some anecdote or another. His mother, eighty-five now, was also still dressed from the workday and wore an elegant black dress with white highlights. The dress complimented her dark skin and brilliant white hair, tied in a tight bun. His brother was also there, still dressed for work but reflecting the side of the business that he was picking up - grey coveralls that were lightly smudged with grease.
His sister and brother were closer in coloration to his father, but looked very much like his mother. He was somewhat the opposite, taking after his father’s features but being considerably darker than his siblings.
His father, now eighty-three, was very fair-skinned and still had brown highlights in his grey hair. He was standing over the range, slowly stirring a pot. The smell of lemon and spices filled the room.
They all seemed to notice his entrance at once. His mother smiled and came to embrace him, and handed him one of the drinks that they had been enjoying.
“Welcome home, Derek,” his mother said to him.
“Yes, good to see you in the flesh old man,” his father said, “And Happy New Year, although it’s a few days late. I’m making some lemon butter chicken, your favorite as I recall.”
=^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^=
<<Tournneau Residence -- 2215 Hours>>
Derek had a lovely dinner and conversation with his family. Afterwards, his parents excused themselves to retire for the evening. It had been a long day for everyone, and he was ready to settle in as well. He and his brother were talking in the living room, drinking a few more cocktails and watching the city.
“So, Derek,” his brother continued, “tell me more about this..Viridian...Veradio…”
“Viradia,” Derek stated. He smiled, rolling his eyes and shaking his head. “Look, there’s not much to tell. At least, not the way you think it is. We’re just good friends is all. We’re colleagues. She’s my assistant.”
“Mmhmm,” John said in a very unconvinced tone as he took another sip from his glass. “So let me get this straight: you guys are ‘best friends’ now, and you do almost everything together in your free time?”
“Yeah, I mean, we both like mystery holonovels, so we do some of those...and we usually eat together...and, yes.”
“And you’re not dating each other?”
“No, I just said that,” Derek said, with a hint of frustration coming through his good mood.
“Aaaand, you’re not dating other people?”
“Well, no - I don’t really have time for that, and I don’t think she’s really expressed interest in anyone on the ship.”
“So explain how you’re not dating again?” His brother laughed as he drained his glass.
Derek put his head in his hands and groaned, then looked back at his brother.
“Look John, it’s more complicated than that,” Derek began listing with his fingers, “We serve together, Starfleet’s a military organization and I’m her superior officer, we’re both interested in our careers now, we--”
“That didn’t stop you before,” his brother said, wincing as he did. He meant well, but immediately regretted saying it.
Derek’s face fell instantly. He reduced the fingers he was counting on to just the longest one. He didn’t want to get angry, but he was starting to.
“I’m sorry, bro,” John backpedaled, “I shouldn’t have gone there. Especially…”
“Especially because the day is this week?” Derek retorted.
“Yes, especially so. I’m sorry,” John apologized again, “but I just want to see you happy, D.”
Derek took a deep breath and softened his gaze. “I know, John. I’m sorry. I just...like I said...it’s - “
“Complicated, yes. Look, this is the last thing I’ll say about it tonight,” his brother continued as he stood up, “but maybe...you’re making it more complicated than it has to be. It’s good to remember the past, but I think you’re holding on to it too tight.” John hugged his brother, who continued to sit. “I love you, man. It’s good to see you again.”
“You too,” Derek said tiredly. He watched as his brother left the room, then turned his attention to the cityscape.
Deep down, he knew his brother was right. He was only twenty-nine, but he sometimes seemed to have his head screwed on better than the rest of the family. But he was still conflicted. He wasn’t sure if it was out of a sense of loyalty, a sense of duty, fear of rejection, or fear of loss - maybe a combination of all of those and more. His friendship with Viradia seemed so natural, and he didn’t want to ruin it - and potentially run off a good officer - in the process of expressing his feelings. But his feelings remained, despite his best intentions.
“Well, drinking more of these isn’t going to help anyone,” Derek said aloud to himself. “Time to unpack and hit the sack.” He kicked back the rest of the drink, stood up - slowly - and went back to his room.
=^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^=
When he got back to his suite, he picked up the first suitcase by the door and carried it to the bedroom, intending to change into some pajamas. He opened it a and pulled out ---
A bra.
A very orange, very lacy bra.
What the hell? Derek’s slightly inebriated mind darted immediately to his brother - perhaps a little welcome home joke?
But then he remembered.
Viradia beamed him down. She put down her bags. He picked up his bags. The bags all looked the same because they were Starfleet issue.
Shit.
Of course, this happens now. Of all people too - why couldn’t I mix up bags with Fields or something?
Derek pulled his combadge out of his pocket.
“Tournneau to Beladd.” The response took about a minute.
“Umm, Beladd here Commander, any problems?” Viradia’s voice came through, muffled by what sounded like loud music in the background.
“No, no problems per se, nothing urgent,” Derek said, “but you won’t believe what I found in my bag.”
OFF
Adelaide Tournneau (PNPC)
Chief Financial Officer,
Tournneau Trading Co.
Rachel Tournneau (PNPC)
President,
Tournneau Trading Co.
Andres Tournneau (PNPC)
Director,
Earth Climate Control, North/Central America
John Tournneau (PNPC)
Chief Engineer,
Tournneau Astromech Industries
Lieutenant Viradia Beladd (PNPC)
Assistant Chief Engineer,
USS Malinche 38997-A
and
Lieutenant Commander Derek Tournneau
Chief Engineering Officer
USS Malinche NCC-38997-A
Re: Mission 23 - Back For More
ON:
<<USS Malinche, Isabel & Derek's (PNPC) Quarters, Day 1, 1810>>
Isabel had finished her work about an hour ago and returned to her quarters. Her husband had contacted her to let her know how his family was doing; the Malinche had dropped Derek off at the colony where his family lived on the way to Earth. Depending on how long they were there, he would either find transport to meet up with the ship or the Malinche would pick him on the way to their next mission. He encouraged her to take some actual time off, several times, before signing off. In part, he didn't understand that the Mali was home for her. Isabel had been born on a starship and it was comfortable for her.
Finishing the meal she'd replicated, Isabel was about to get another drink when her terminal chimed, indicating she had an incoming subspace message. Curious, she frowned and moved over to her desk. Her finger slid across and then tapped on the screen, opening the channel. A look of surprise crossed her face as she saw her twin sister, Gabriela (PNPC). "Gabi? This is a surprise. Is everything alright?"
Gabriela chuckled, "Oh Isa, just because I'm calling doesn't mean something is wrong. Surely I can call my sister just for the sake of doing so, hmm?" There was a twinkle in her eye as she smiled. The sounds of children laughing could be heard in the background as well.
"Yes, of course," Isabel replied. "How are you, Stephen (PNPC), and my nieces and nephew? The last I heard you'd been assigned to the USS Carina?" Her sister was a scientist, as was her husband, though he had apparently been promoted to the Executive Officer position when they'd transferred. The Galaxy class starship they were now assigned to offered a fair bit more room for their family.
Turning to glance back at her children, Gabriela gave Isabel a chance to see them and wave. "Everyone's doing well, though Stephen's still rather nervous about being XO on a ship this size. The captain seems pleased with him, so I'm hoping he'll settle into it. The kids rather enjoy having more children to play with and more room here as well. The Carina has some very nice science facilities, so I'm rather enjoying myself. But what about you? I hear you're at Spacedock?"
Isabel nodded, "A few repairs and we're supposed to be getting some additional transfers as well, though I've not seen any of the potentials yet. I'm not sure how long we'll be here, but most likely a few days at least; I've told the crew to get some shoreleave. It's not often that we are near Earth." Watching her sister, she saw Gabi about to speak up, but Isabel held up a hand, "Before you even say it, both Derek and my XO have told me I need to take some time off."
"Well, they're right," Gabi said, undeterred, "You deserve some time off. Besides, you realize mom and dad are living on Earth now, right? Why don't you go visit them? They have a great place on the edge of the Gothic Quarter in Barcelona. And if you want, I know a great place in Seville that you could stay - it's a place we use when we visit. They'd love to see you, Isa."
"I did think of that. I actually went so far as to look up more information about the city, though I hadn't looked particularly closely at Seville. I had no idea that you visited there. It's just that with the repairs and new crew transferring aboard...I feel my place is here," Isabel replied.
Gabriela gave her a knowing smile, "Your place will always be on your ship. It's not going anywhere, Isa. But that doesn't mean that you can't go enjoy yourself for a few days. You see, we have these devices that allow people to contact you from afar. And, if the situation proves dire enough, we also have this amazing technology called 'transporters' that allow you to go from one place to another in the blink of an eye. It'll be fine. Go and see the sights; you won't regret it. Maybe one of these times we'll even be at the same place at the same time so we can visit in person. Your nieces and nephew would love to see you."
Chuckling at her sister's description of technology, Isabel nodded thoughtfully and smiled, "Okay, okay. I give in. I'll go visit Spain while I'm here. And we'll see what we can do about visiting each other sometime as well. It was good talking to you, Gabi. Tell the others I say hello?"
"Of course, Isa. Take care of yourself and have fun! Tell mom and dad that we say hello as well. Goodnight," Gabriela smiled and waved before closing the connection.
<An Hour Later>
After the call with her sister, Isabel had contacted her parents, who were only too delighted at the prospect of having their daughter visit. So, Isabel had packed a few things and sent instructions to Awen (PNPC) and Britney (PNPC), telling them that she was going down to the planet and to ensure that whoever was in charge on the ship knew to contact her if anything arose. She also told them that they should each be sure to get some shoreleave in as well.
Picking up her bag, Isabel took another look around her quarters before turning and heading out the door. The corridor was mostly empty by now and it didn't take her long to make her way to Transporter Room 1, which was in the same section of the ship as her quarters.
<Transporter Room 1>
As the doors swished open, Isabel quickly noted the deserted nature of the Transporter Room. By now, most people were likely already off the ship, visiting Earth Spacedock, or staying on the ship for the evening. She moved over to the transporter controls and slid her finger across it, then keying in her code. After keying in her destination and a delay, Isabel stepped over onto the transporter pad. Not long after, the transporter beam enveloped her and she was on her way to Barcelona.
OFF:
Lieutenant Commander Gabriela Tillman (PNPC)
Chief Science Officer
USS Carina
and
<<USS Malinche, Isabel & Derek's (PNPC) Quarters, Day 1, 1810>>
Isabel had finished her work about an hour ago and returned to her quarters. Her husband had contacted her to let her know how his family was doing; the Malinche had dropped Derek off at the colony where his family lived on the way to Earth. Depending on how long they were there, he would either find transport to meet up with the ship or the Malinche would pick him on the way to their next mission. He encouraged her to take some actual time off, several times, before signing off. In part, he didn't understand that the Mali was home for her. Isabel had been born on a starship and it was comfortable for her.
Finishing the meal she'd replicated, Isabel was about to get another drink when her terminal chimed, indicating she had an incoming subspace message. Curious, she frowned and moved over to her desk. Her finger slid across and then tapped on the screen, opening the channel. A look of surprise crossed her face as she saw her twin sister, Gabriela (PNPC). "Gabi? This is a surprise. Is everything alright?"
Gabriela chuckled, "Oh Isa, just because I'm calling doesn't mean something is wrong. Surely I can call my sister just for the sake of doing so, hmm?" There was a twinkle in her eye as she smiled. The sounds of children laughing could be heard in the background as well.
"Yes, of course," Isabel replied. "How are you, Stephen (PNPC), and my nieces and nephew? The last I heard you'd been assigned to the USS Carina?" Her sister was a scientist, as was her husband, though he had apparently been promoted to the Executive Officer position when they'd transferred. The Galaxy class starship they were now assigned to offered a fair bit more room for their family.
Turning to glance back at her children, Gabriela gave Isabel a chance to see them and wave. "Everyone's doing well, though Stephen's still rather nervous about being XO on a ship this size. The captain seems pleased with him, so I'm hoping he'll settle into it. The kids rather enjoy having more children to play with and more room here as well. The Carina has some very nice science facilities, so I'm rather enjoying myself. But what about you? I hear you're at Spacedock?"
Isabel nodded, "A few repairs and we're supposed to be getting some additional transfers as well, though I've not seen any of the potentials yet. I'm not sure how long we'll be here, but most likely a few days at least; I've told the crew to get some shoreleave. It's not often that we are near Earth." Watching her sister, she saw Gabi about to speak up, but Isabel held up a hand, "Before you even say it, both Derek and my XO have told me I need to take some time off."
"Well, they're right," Gabi said, undeterred, "You deserve some time off. Besides, you realize mom and dad are living on Earth now, right? Why don't you go visit them? They have a great place on the edge of the Gothic Quarter in Barcelona. And if you want, I know a great place in Seville that you could stay - it's a place we use when we visit. They'd love to see you, Isa."
"I did think of that. I actually went so far as to look up more information about the city, though I hadn't looked particularly closely at Seville. I had no idea that you visited there. It's just that with the repairs and new crew transferring aboard...I feel my place is here," Isabel replied.
Gabriela gave her a knowing smile, "Your place will always be on your ship. It's not going anywhere, Isa. But that doesn't mean that you can't go enjoy yourself for a few days. You see, we have these devices that allow people to contact you from afar. And, if the situation proves dire enough, we also have this amazing technology called 'transporters' that allow you to go from one place to another in the blink of an eye. It'll be fine. Go and see the sights; you won't regret it. Maybe one of these times we'll even be at the same place at the same time so we can visit in person. Your nieces and nephew would love to see you."
Chuckling at her sister's description of technology, Isabel nodded thoughtfully and smiled, "Okay, okay. I give in. I'll go visit Spain while I'm here. And we'll see what we can do about visiting each other sometime as well. It was good talking to you, Gabi. Tell the others I say hello?"
"Of course, Isa. Take care of yourself and have fun! Tell mom and dad that we say hello as well. Goodnight," Gabriela smiled and waved before closing the connection.
<An Hour Later>
After the call with her sister, Isabel had contacted her parents, who were only too delighted at the prospect of having their daughter visit. So, Isabel had packed a few things and sent instructions to Awen (PNPC) and Britney (PNPC), telling them that she was going down to the planet and to ensure that whoever was in charge on the ship knew to contact her if anything arose. She also told them that they should each be sure to get some shoreleave in as well.
Picking up her bag, Isabel took another look around her quarters before turning and heading out the door. The corridor was mostly empty by now and it didn't take her long to make her way to Transporter Room 1, which was in the same section of the ship as her quarters.
<Transporter Room 1>
As the doors swished open, Isabel quickly noted the deserted nature of the Transporter Room. By now, most people were likely already off the ship, visiting Earth Spacedock, or staying on the ship for the evening. She moved over to the transporter controls and slid her finger across it, then keying in her code. After keying in her destination and a delay, Isabel stepped over onto the transporter pad. Not long after, the transporter beam enveloped her and she was on her way to Barcelona.
OFF:
Lieutenant Commander Gabriela Tillman (PNPC)
Chief Science Officer
USS Carina
and
Captain Isabel Kersare
Commanding Officer
USS Malinche NCC-38997-A
Re: Mission 23 - Back For More
ON:
<<Barcelona, Day 1, 2100>>
After having a look around the Gothic Quarter of Barcelona, which was quite impressive in her opinion, Isabel made her way back to her parents' home. The lighting at dusk on some of the buildings was gorgeous. She would have to have another look around in the daytime. For now though, she found herself staring at a Gothic style building, just within the Quarter, which was where her parents lived most of the time. They hadn't retired from Starfleet, but rather than living on ships full time, Adrianne (PNPC) and Caleb (PNPC) Kersare taught at the Academy as well as working on research and sometimes joining ships for specific missions or cadet cruises.
There was no elevator in the building, which had mostly been preserved. Isabel made her way up the stairs with her bag; glad she had packed lightly. She reached the fifth floor and made her way down the hallway until she found the Kersare residence, number 502. After ringing the doorchime, she didn't have to wait long before she was greeted by the smiling face of her mother.
"Isabel! It's wonderful to see you. It's been so long... Come in, come in," Adrianne said, wrapping her daughter in a hug and then keeping an arm around Isabel's shoulders as she guided her inside. "Caleb! She's here!"
Caleb walked towards the door, eyes sparkling as he smiled at Isabel and kissed her cheek. "There's my girl! It's been far too long since you've visited, you know. I thought for sure that after what happened with Derek (PNPC) you'd come and visit for awhile. It feels like we've barely heard from you though... And this is the first time you've visited in--"
A disapproving look from Adrianne convinced Caleb to stop talking for the moment. "What your father means to say, Isa, is that we've missed you. Subspace communications just aren't the same. But the important thing is that you're here with us now and you're welcome back whenever you wish. I hear that you spoke with your sister?"
Isabel wasn't surprised to get bombarded with welcomes and disappointments. She really hadn't made much of an effort to visit. It first started when Derek had been taken by the Borg. It was terrible, of course, but she hadn't wanted to be a burden or pitied. She hadn't wanted to answer all the questions or hear people constantly asking her if she was alright. She'd kept people at distance, for the most part. That had started to change when she took command, as she did truly care for her crew, but still she hadn't wanted to get too attached lest something happened to them as well. Over time, Isabel had worked through it to an extent, but she couldn't change the past.
Remembering that her mother had asked her a question, she replied, "Yes, yes, I spoke with Gabi (PNPC) a few hours ago. She mentioned where you were living and that she had a place in Seville as well. I haven't seen much of Barcelona, but this seems to be a beautiful section of the city; the architecture is fantastic. And your home looks wonderful as well, not that I expected anything less." Isabel smiled as her eyes took in the apartment. It was a decent size and had been decorated in what she would consider a Gothic inspired style with some modern twists. They were in the entry way, but she could see a doorway leading to the kitchen and the living room was off to her right.
"Oh yes, she and Stephen (PNPC) have a lovely place there. If you have time, you should visit...or perhaps next time," Adrianne said, emphasizing the last few words. "We've made up one of the guest rooms for you and we can show you around the city tomorrow if you'd like. Your father has a bit of work in the afternoon in San Francisco, but otherwise we've cleared our schedules for the next few days. Do you know how long you'll be here? And have you eaten?"
"Sounds good, mom. I did have some dinner before I left actually," Isabel said. "I'm not quite sure yet how long we'll be here. Right now we're waiting for some new transfers and our new orders to come in, then we'll be leaving. It could be as little as a couple days or as long as a week...I'm just not sure."
Caleb nodded, "Nice to hear that some things don't change. How is your ship, Isa? Are there a lot of transfers?"
Isabel shook her head, chuckling, "They certainly don't. The Malinche is doing well...we had a refit a couple years back and just a bit of routine maintenance this time. I lost my Executive Officer a couple years ago and after what felt like a revolving door, my Chief Security/Tactical Officer has been filling in as XO as well until a replacement is found. My Chief Engineer is quite good - and you know that's saying something coming from me... When I left the ship, they still hadn't finalized how many crew would be getting transferred, but I should be getting updated."
"Well, I'm sure you've had a long day. Why don't we show you your room, then we can have a bit of a snack and relax for the evening. You'll need your rest for sightseeing, I'm sure," Adrianne told her, gesturing further into the apartment. "Maybe we can even teach you some Spanish while you're here! We've been working on learning the language. Our heritage is here, you know, and while Federation Standard is spoken, I think the locals enjoy when you speak to them in their native tongue. Reminds me of research I'd do before an undercover assignment..."
Despite her slight reluctance earlier, Isabel was glad she had decided to visit with her parents. It was good to see them and to see that they really hadn't changed that much. Perhaps it was good for her to have a break. She took a deep, calming breath, smiled, and followed her mother.
OFF:
<<Barcelona, Day 1, 2100>>
After having a look around the Gothic Quarter of Barcelona, which was quite impressive in her opinion, Isabel made her way back to her parents' home. The lighting at dusk on some of the buildings was gorgeous. She would have to have another look around in the daytime. For now though, she found herself staring at a Gothic style building, just within the Quarter, which was where her parents lived most of the time. They hadn't retired from Starfleet, but rather than living on ships full time, Adrianne (PNPC) and Caleb (PNPC) Kersare taught at the Academy as well as working on research and sometimes joining ships for specific missions or cadet cruises.
There was no elevator in the building, which had mostly been preserved. Isabel made her way up the stairs with her bag; glad she had packed lightly. She reached the fifth floor and made her way down the hallway until she found the Kersare residence, number 502. After ringing the doorchime, she didn't have to wait long before she was greeted by the smiling face of her mother.
"Isabel! It's wonderful to see you. It's been so long... Come in, come in," Adrianne said, wrapping her daughter in a hug and then keeping an arm around Isabel's shoulders as she guided her inside. "Caleb! She's here!"
Caleb walked towards the door, eyes sparkling as he smiled at Isabel and kissed her cheek. "There's my girl! It's been far too long since you've visited, you know. I thought for sure that after what happened with Derek (PNPC) you'd come and visit for awhile. It feels like we've barely heard from you though... And this is the first time you've visited in--"
A disapproving look from Adrianne convinced Caleb to stop talking for the moment. "What your father means to say, Isa, is that we've missed you. Subspace communications just aren't the same. But the important thing is that you're here with us now and you're welcome back whenever you wish. I hear that you spoke with your sister?"
Isabel wasn't surprised to get bombarded with welcomes and disappointments. She really hadn't made much of an effort to visit. It first started when Derek had been taken by the Borg. It was terrible, of course, but she hadn't wanted to be a burden or pitied. She hadn't wanted to answer all the questions or hear people constantly asking her if she was alright. She'd kept people at distance, for the most part. That had started to change when she took command, as she did truly care for her crew, but still she hadn't wanted to get too attached lest something happened to them as well. Over time, Isabel had worked through it to an extent, but she couldn't change the past.
Remembering that her mother had asked her a question, she replied, "Yes, yes, I spoke with Gabi (PNPC) a few hours ago. She mentioned where you were living and that she had a place in Seville as well. I haven't seen much of Barcelona, but this seems to be a beautiful section of the city; the architecture is fantastic. And your home looks wonderful as well, not that I expected anything less." Isabel smiled as her eyes took in the apartment. It was a decent size and had been decorated in what she would consider a Gothic inspired style with some modern twists. They were in the entry way, but she could see a doorway leading to the kitchen and the living room was off to her right.
"Oh yes, she and Stephen (PNPC) have a lovely place there. If you have time, you should visit...or perhaps next time," Adrianne said, emphasizing the last few words. "We've made up one of the guest rooms for you and we can show you around the city tomorrow if you'd like. Your father has a bit of work in the afternoon in San Francisco, but otherwise we've cleared our schedules for the next few days. Do you know how long you'll be here? And have you eaten?"
"Sounds good, mom. I did have some dinner before I left actually," Isabel said. "I'm not quite sure yet how long we'll be here. Right now we're waiting for some new transfers and our new orders to come in, then we'll be leaving. It could be as little as a couple days or as long as a week...I'm just not sure."
Caleb nodded, "Nice to hear that some things don't change. How is your ship, Isa? Are there a lot of transfers?"
Isabel shook her head, chuckling, "They certainly don't. The Malinche is doing well...we had a refit a couple years back and just a bit of routine maintenance this time. I lost my Executive Officer a couple years ago and after what felt like a revolving door, my Chief Security/Tactical Officer has been filling in as XO as well until a replacement is found. My Chief Engineer is quite good - and you know that's saying something coming from me... When I left the ship, they still hadn't finalized how many crew would be getting transferred, but I should be getting updated."
"Well, I'm sure you've had a long day. Why don't we show you your room, then we can have a bit of a snack and relax for the evening. You'll need your rest for sightseeing, I'm sure," Adrianne told her, gesturing further into the apartment. "Maybe we can even teach you some Spanish while you're here! We've been working on learning the language. Our heritage is here, you know, and while Federation Standard is spoken, I think the locals enjoy when you speak to them in their native tongue. Reminds me of research I'd do before an undercover assignment..."
Despite her slight reluctance earlier, Isabel was glad she had decided to visit with her parents. It was good to see them and to see that they really hadn't changed that much. Perhaps it was good for her to have a break. She took a deep, calming breath, smiled, and followed her mother.
OFF:
Captain Isabel Kersare
Commanding Officer
USS Malinche NCC-38997-A
Re: Mission 23 - Back For More
ON:
<<San Francisco, Starfleet Academy Auxiliary Office 2, Day 3, 1850>>
Isabel stepped into one of the auxiliary offices at the Academy and glanced around. It wasn't much, but it would suffice for her purposes tonight. There was a desk and chair with two visitor's chairs facing it as well as a bookshelf. Less than an hour ago, Awen (PNPC) had contacted her to let her know that a new Executive Officer had been assigned and that Isabel was to meet with the person at 1900 hours at the Academy.
She hadn't quite been expecting it, but at least the issue of an official Executive Officer had apparently been settled. Normally Isabel would have expected to have at least some say in who it was, but apparently Admiral Livian (PNPC) had chosen the candidate specifically for her. As soon as Isabel had looked at the service record, she understood why...
Lieutenant Commander Korath was a Klingon with an...interesting past. She'd only had a chance to skim through his service record while heading to the office they were supposed to meet in, but given her track record with giving people a chance when others might not, his assignment made sense. Isabel sat the PADD on the desk as she took a seat, then continued reading until she heard the door chime. "Come in," she called out, looking up from the PADD.
Korath straightened his tunic for a moment before stepping inside the office, carrying a PADD with his transfer orders in his left hand. It was a bit surprising that he had not even been selected for an interview with Captain Kersare before his transfer. It had taken two interviews and a luncheon to finally get the news that he had been assigned the second officer's post on the Ajax. "Sir!" The Klingon barked more than he spoke the words.
As he walked in, Isabel stood and then continued looking up; Korath was rather tall. She looked at him and nodded, extending her hand, "Lieutenant Commander Korath? I'm Captain Isabel Kersare of the USS Malinche. Normally I might offer you a beverage, but this particular office doesn't seem to have a replicator." Isabel gestured towards one of the seats, indicating he should be seated and then sat down.
"Yes Sir. I am Lieutenant Commander Korath, reporting as ordered." He took her hand and shook it, letting her last words sit for a moment in the space between them before opening his mouth to reply. "That is not necessary, I just had dinner sir."
Isabel nodded, "Good, I won't worry about it then." Korath was certainly quite a change from Nora, or even Awen. Although she'd served with Klingons before, she'd never had one as an Executive Officer. "I realize this meeting is a bit last minute; I was in San Francisco for the day and apparently Starfleet decided it would be a good time for an initial meeting. I haven't had a chance to review your service record very much, but I see that you served in the Klingon Defense Force before joining Starfleet," Isabel said, looking up at him. She had also seen mention of Korath being sent to Rura Penthe, but she was curious what he would bring up on his own.
Korath shifted slightly at the inquiry. He had expected the question to come up; It always did. It was still difficult to predict just how a new commander would take his past service. "Yes sir, for approximately six years. Until a failed attempt to relieve the Captain resulted in my imprisonment." He paused for a moment to gauge the woman's expression before continuing. "The Captain went rogue and began a campaign to assemble a weapon of legendary power. When it became clear that his search continued at the expense of honor, I conspired with the XO of that ship to.. 'relieve' Captain Durill. The attempt failed. The XO, my father, was slain. The evidence we had collected, doctored and turned into the High council painting myself and that of my father as the guilty parties. I served two years on Rura Penthe for the Captain's treachery."
"I'm sorry to hear that your father died, though I imagine he fought with honor," Isabel offered; she wasn't sure how close Korath had been with his father, but she did know that honor was important and hoped that her comment would be well received. "Considering that you're in Starfleet and are now here, assigned to my ship, I see no reason to make some kind of an issue out of the event, but I would like to say that should you disagree with a decision I make, I would prefer that you discuss it with me in private so that we can come to some form of understanding... That said, were you able to expose Captain Durill? I believe I saw another mention of him here in your record."
"Thank you sir, he died well. That is all any Klingon needs. The only thing I may disagree with now would be how naive I was back then." The mention of the second question hit like a rampaging targ. For a moment he was unsure what it was he was going to say. It had been so long since he had been reminded of it all and he tried so very hard to forget. "Yes, eventually. Though not before he was able to track the USS Archer down and ambush her. Not before he took his revenge on me for denying him his prize."
Nodding thoughtfully, Isabel noted Korath's momentary pause before he answered her. She scrolled through his record and found the other mention of his former captain that she vaguely remembered reading earlier. Quickly she skimmed back through it and saw what had stood out to her previously - the death of Korath's wife. "The events that led to your near court martial... Once again, I am sorry for your loss Commander and I hope your daughter is alright. I don't mean to dredge up unpleasant topics, but for obvious reasons these actions are concerning. Obviously this was a unique circumstance, so I trust I won't need to be worried about something like this happening again?"
Korath made a dismissive motion. "There is no need to be concerned for my comfort. While I do not regret my choice to borrow a shuttle and go after my family, it is not an act I would repeat in future. At the time I had no wish to drag the ship into a situation that may have led them into a potential diplomatic corner. Despite Durill's renegade nature, a Federation starship entering Imperial space unannounced is not looked upon favorably by the Empire. The incident did teach me that it is sometimes necessary that trust and friendship are as valuable as Honor. To answer your previous question, yes; Ba'el is well. She was awaiting her first assignment last we spoke."
"Understandable. And yes, trust and friendship can be quite valuable," Isabel replied. She had certainly found that to be the case. Perhaps his daughter awaiting assignment was the reason Korath was already in the area; it was possible he had come to Earth to see her graduate. Of course, Isabel didn't know what kind of relationship they had... "Your daughter just graduated from Starfleet Academy? What did she specialize in?"
"Indeed. It was fortunate that the Ajax had put into ESD for refit. It would have been difficult to get the time off to visit the Academy if she had not. From her letters, Ba'el Majored in Operations; placing top of her class in her practical exams."
By the sounds of it, the two of them were probably not very close... If Korath had only received letters, it seemed that he hadn't even had a chance to see his daughter since he arrived on Earth. Still, family was important. "Hmm," Isabel mused quietly before sliding her finger across the PADD. Glancing through, she took a look at which positions Starfleet was still looking to fill on the Mali. "I can't make any promises, Commander, but if you're interested, I could take a look at her Academy records and possibly offer her a position on the Malinche?"
It had been nearly four years since they had spent any time together since she attended the academy, with him being assigned to deep space exploration duty. It was true that the two of them were not on the best of terms when she left to join StarFleet, though that had improved somewhat in the last year and a bit. She had been through so much, largely due to his own actions coming back on him. It was no wonder she needed time to find her own path. He stroked his beard for a moment or two and nodded slightly. "That would be an acceptable choice. I've followed her career with great interest. Her instructors have had some very impressive things to say about her abilities." Despite perhaps the fact he had not parted with her on the best of terms, there was pride in his voice, and perhaps an underlying need to atone for the mistakes he had made.
"Alright; I will go ahead and review her record, then see what I can do," Isabel said, offering him a smile. It would take time to get to know her Executive Officer, but she was feeling a little better about it. He hadn't served as Executive Officer or on a Prometheus class before, but Isabel could tell he would do his best. "Do you have any questions for me about the ship or something else perhaps?"
Korath nodded in agreement slightly, wondering how that meeting would go should the transfer did happen as the Captain suggested. He pushed the thought from his mind for now. It served no purpose to dwell on that which he could not control. "I understand the Malinche is in for some repairs, are crew allowed on board at this time or have quarters been arranged for elsewhere in the interim?"
"Yes it is," Isabel replied, nodding. "The crew is allowed on board. Some are staying aboard to help with repairs or keep an eye on things, others have been taking advantage of shoreleave. We've been trying to rotate people out so that everyone gets a chance to have time off, especially since we don't know when we'll be leaving. This is our third day here, so far, and we've not gotten our next mission yet. Not to mention that we're still missing a few key positions and need to fill in some departments as well. Feel free to get settled in if you wish, but you're also welcome to take advantage of shoreleave. As long as we can get in touch, it shouldn't be a problem."
Shore leave was never as important to him as it was to his crew mates, however he did see it as an opportunity to see Ba'el while she was still in San Francisco. "I may do that sir after I stow my gear."
"Of course. And I'm sure you'll have an opportunity to meet more of the crew soon. You may wish to familiarize yourself with our manifest or the ship as well. Is there anything else I can do for you, or any other questions you have? If so, I'd be happy to answer them, now or at another time if you wish," Isabel responded, setting the PADD aside.
"None at this time Sir. I will do as you suggest." He did not wish to keep her attention longer than needed.
Nodding, Isabel stood and gave him a brief smile, "Very well. I will leave you to enjoy your evening, then. I look forward to working with you; welcome to the Malinche crew, Commander." As she looked over at him, she couldn't help but wonder if their working relationship would end up anything remotely similar to the one she'd had with Nora. Nothing would be quite the same, of course, but perhaps with time they would learn to work well together and with the crew. Perhaps even end up on a first name basis, at least when not on duty. Isabel didn't want to get ahead of herself though. Whatever happened would come with time. For now, she had other things to attend to.
"Thank you sir." Korath replied making an effort to observe the Standard niceties. "Good night sir." He remained still for a brief moment before turning and exiting the office. If anything else, this posting would prove to be an interesting one. It was a challenge he was eager to begin.
OFF: JP brought to you by:
Captain Isabel Kersare
Commanding Officer
USS Malinche NCC-38997-A
and
<<San Francisco, Starfleet Academy Auxiliary Office 2, Day 3, 1850>>
Isabel stepped into one of the auxiliary offices at the Academy and glanced around. It wasn't much, but it would suffice for her purposes tonight. There was a desk and chair with two visitor's chairs facing it as well as a bookshelf. Less than an hour ago, Awen (PNPC) had contacted her to let her know that a new Executive Officer had been assigned and that Isabel was to meet with the person at 1900 hours at the Academy.
She hadn't quite been expecting it, but at least the issue of an official Executive Officer had apparently been settled. Normally Isabel would have expected to have at least some say in who it was, but apparently Admiral Livian (PNPC) had chosen the candidate specifically for her. As soon as Isabel had looked at the service record, she understood why...
Lieutenant Commander Korath was a Klingon with an...interesting past. She'd only had a chance to skim through his service record while heading to the office they were supposed to meet in, but given her track record with giving people a chance when others might not, his assignment made sense. Isabel sat the PADD on the desk as she took a seat, then continued reading until she heard the door chime. "Come in," she called out, looking up from the PADD.
Korath straightened his tunic for a moment before stepping inside the office, carrying a PADD with his transfer orders in his left hand. It was a bit surprising that he had not even been selected for an interview with Captain Kersare before his transfer. It had taken two interviews and a luncheon to finally get the news that he had been assigned the second officer's post on the Ajax. "Sir!" The Klingon barked more than he spoke the words.
As he walked in, Isabel stood and then continued looking up; Korath was rather tall. She looked at him and nodded, extending her hand, "Lieutenant Commander Korath? I'm Captain Isabel Kersare of the USS Malinche. Normally I might offer you a beverage, but this particular office doesn't seem to have a replicator." Isabel gestured towards one of the seats, indicating he should be seated and then sat down.
"Yes Sir. I am Lieutenant Commander Korath, reporting as ordered." He took her hand and shook it, letting her last words sit for a moment in the space between them before opening his mouth to reply. "That is not necessary, I just had dinner sir."
Isabel nodded, "Good, I won't worry about it then." Korath was certainly quite a change from Nora, or even Awen. Although she'd served with Klingons before, she'd never had one as an Executive Officer. "I realize this meeting is a bit last minute; I was in San Francisco for the day and apparently Starfleet decided it would be a good time for an initial meeting. I haven't had a chance to review your service record very much, but I see that you served in the Klingon Defense Force before joining Starfleet," Isabel said, looking up at him. She had also seen mention of Korath being sent to Rura Penthe, but she was curious what he would bring up on his own.
Korath shifted slightly at the inquiry. He had expected the question to come up; It always did. It was still difficult to predict just how a new commander would take his past service. "Yes sir, for approximately six years. Until a failed attempt to relieve the Captain resulted in my imprisonment." He paused for a moment to gauge the woman's expression before continuing. "The Captain went rogue and began a campaign to assemble a weapon of legendary power. When it became clear that his search continued at the expense of honor, I conspired with the XO of that ship to.. 'relieve' Captain Durill. The attempt failed. The XO, my father, was slain. The evidence we had collected, doctored and turned into the High council painting myself and that of my father as the guilty parties. I served two years on Rura Penthe for the Captain's treachery."
"I'm sorry to hear that your father died, though I imagine he fought with honor," Isabel offered; she wasn't sure how close Korath had been with his father, but she did know that honor was important and hoped that her comment would be well received. "Considering that you're in Starfleet and are now here, assigned to my ship, I see no reason to make some kind of an issue out of the event, but I would like to say that should you disagree with a decision I make, I would prefer that you discuss it with me in private so that we can come to some form of understanding... That said, were you able to expose Captain Durill? I believe I saw another mention of him here in your record."
"Thank you sir, he died well. That is all any Klingon needs. The only thing I may disagree with now would be how naive I was back then." The mention of the second question hit like a rampaging targ. For a moment he was unsure what it was he was going to say. It had been so long since he had been reminded of it all and he tried so very hard to forget. "Yes, eventually. Though not before he was able to track the USS Archer down and ambush her. Not before he took his revenge on me for denying him his prize."
Nodding thoughtfully, Isabel noted Korath's momentary pause before he answered her. She scrolled through his record and found the other mention of his former captain that she vaguely remembered reading earlier. Quickly she skimmed back through it and saw what had stood out to her previously - the death of Korath's wife. "The events that led to your near court martial... Once again, I am sorry for your loss Commander and I hope your daughter is alright. I don't mean to dredge up unpleasant topics, but for obvious reasons these actions are concerning. Obviously this was a unique circumstance, so I trust I won't need to be worried about something like this happening again?"
Korath made a dismissive motion. "There is no need to be concerned for my comfort. While I do not regret my choice to borrow a shuttle and go after my family, it is not an act I would repeat in future. At the time I had no wish to drag the ship into a situation that may have led them into a potential diplomatic corner. Despite Durill's renegade nature, a Federation starship entering Imperial space unannounced is not looked upon favorably by the Empire. The incident did teach me that it is sometimes necessary that trust and friendship are as valuable as Honor. To answer your previous question, yes; Ba'el is well. She was awaiting her first assignment last we spoke."
"Understandable. And yes, trust and friendship can be quite valuable," Isabel replied. She had certainly found that to be the case. Perhaps his daughter awaiting assignment was the reason Korath was already in the area; it was possible he had come to Earth to see her graduate. Of course, Isabel didn't know what kind of relationship they had... "Your daughter just graduated from Starfleet Academy? What did she specialize in?"
"Indeed. It was fortunate that the Ajax had put into ESD for refit. It would have been difficult to get the time off to visit the Academy if she had not. From her letters, Ba'el Majored in Operations; placing top of her class in her practical exams."
By the sounds of it, the two of them were probably not very close... If Korath had only received letters, it seemed that he hadn't even had a chance to see his daughter since he arrived on Earth. Still, family was important. "Hmm," Isabel mused quietly before sliding her finger across the PADD. Glancing through, she took a look at which positions Starfleet was still looking to fill on the Mali. "I can't make any promises, Commander, but if you're interested, I could take a look at her Academy records and possibly offer her a position on the Malinche?"
It had been nearly four years since they had spent any time together since she attended the academy, with him being assigned to deep space exploration duty. It was true that the two of them were not on the best of terms when she left to join StarFleet, though that had improved somewhat in the last year and a bit. She had been through so much, largely due to his own actions coming back on him. It was no wonder she needed time to find her own path. He stroked his beard for a moment or two and nodded slightly. "That would be an acceptable choice. I've followed her career with great interest. Her instructors have had some very impressive things to say about her abilities." Despite perhaps the fact he had not parted with her on the best of terms, there was pride in his voice, and perhaps an underlying need to atone for the mistakes he had made.
"Alright; I will go ahead and review her record, then see what I can do," Isabel said, offering him a smile. It would take time to get to know her Executive Officer, but she was feeling a little better about it. He hadn't served as Executive Officer or on a Prometheus class before, but Isabel could tell he would do his best. "Do you have any questions for me about the ship or something else perhaps?"
Korath nodded in agreement slightly, wondering how that meeting would go should the transfer did happen as the Captain suggested. He pushed the thought from his mind for now. It served no purpose to dwell on that which he could not control. "I understand the Malinche is in for some repairs, are crew allowed on board at this time or have quarters been arranged for elsewhere in the interim?"
"Yes it is," Isabel replied, nodding. "The crew is allowed on board. Some are staying aboard to help with repairs or keep an eye on things, others have been taking advantage of shoreleave. We've been trying to rotate people out so that everyone gets a chance to have time off, especially since we don't know when we'll be leaving. This is our third day here, so far, and we've not gotten our next mission yet. Not to mention that we're still missing a few key positions and need to fill in some departments as well. Feel free to get settled in if you wish, but you're also welcome to take advantage of shoreleave. As long as we can get in touch, it shouldn't be a problem."
Shore leave was never as important to him as it was to his crew mates, however he did see it as an opportunity to see Ba'el while she was still in San Francisco. "I may do that sir after I stow my gear."
"Of course. And I'm sure you'll have an opportunity to meet more of the crew soon. You may wish to familiarize yourself with our manifest or the ship as well. Is there anything else I can do for you, or any other questions you have? If so, I'd be happy to answer them, now or at another time if you wish," Isabel responded, setting the PADD aside.
"None at this time Sir. I will do as you suggest." He did not wish to keep her attention longer than needed.
Nodding, Isabel stood and gave him a brief smile, "Very well. I will leave you to enjoy your evening, then. I look forward to working with you; welcome to the Malinche crew, Commander." As she looked over at him, she couldn't help but wonder if their working relationship would end up anything remotely similar to the one she'd had with Nora. Nothing would be quite the same, of course, but perhaps with time they would learn to work well together and with the crew. Perhaps even end up on a first name basis, at least when not on duty. Isabel didn't want to get ahead of herself though. Whatever happened would come with time. For now, she had other things to attend to.
"Thank you sir." Korath replied making an effort to observe the Standard niceties. "Good night sir." He remained still for a brief moment before turning and exiting the office. If anything else, this posting would prove to be an interesting one. It was a challenge he was eager to begin.
OFF: JP brought to you by:
Captain Isabel Kersare
Commanding Officer
USS Malinche NCC-38997-A
and
Lieutenant Commander Korath
Executive Officer
USS Malinche NCC-38997-A
Re: Mission 23 - Back For More
OFF: This is a backpost
ON:
<<Officers' Club, Starfleet Headquarters, San Francisco, Earth -- Shoreleave Day 01 -- 2220 Hours>>
Upbeat music pulsed through the darkened club, as people of all different rank and race mingled. The bar was busy, and waiters were roaming the seated areas taking orders and passing out drinks.
Viradia (PNPC) was seated with her old roommate, Debra Sandros (PNPC) on the terrace outside. The club was located on the roof of one of the squat buildings that made up the dormitory park of Starfleet’s headquarters complex. Most of the club was indoors, but it was surrounded by an outdoor seating area. From her seat, Viradia could see the sprawling grounds of the headquarters flow into that of the Academy; beyond that, the bay coast and the Golden Gate Bridge could be seen in the distance.
Viradia was still wearing the orange turtleneck and beanie cap that she had been wearing as she left the ship. Debra was an olive-skinned human with dark brown hair and eyes. She was still wearing her engineering officer's uniform.
Despite the patio warmers that were distributed outside, the cool January wind blew in off the bay, occasionally forcing its salty chill through the bubble of warmth that was emanating from the terrace. Viradia cupped her Irish hot chocolate in her hands, letting the mug warm her hands as the whiskey warmed her insides.
They had been catching up on the past few years. Debra and Viradia had gone through the Academy together as roommates and managed to get assigned to the Rhea for their first posting. After their first tour, Debra found herself more interested in starship design, while Viradia wanted to continue working aboard starships. Debra wound up at Utopia Planitia as part of a warp design team. Viradia continued on to graduate school and then the Malinche. Debra was in the middle of an anecdote about one of her junior team members.
“...and then he actually ended up going head first, straight into the core assembly! It’s a good thing that it wasn’t powered yet, or that would have been a mess.”
Viradia laughed. “Yes, but that must have set you back a few days - assemblies don’t really take kindly to being landed and stood on, I imagine.”
A light chirping sound interrupted Viradia’s train of thought. It was difficult to hear over the music and the general noise of the crowd around her at first. My badge! How long has it been going off? Viradia pulled her badge out of her pocket and pressed it.
“Tournneau to Beladd.”
“Umm, Beladd here Commander, any problems?” She was surprised to get comms from Tournneau - she’d only been disembarked for several hours.
“No, no problems per se, nothing urgent,” Derek said, “but you won’t believe what I found in my bag.”
“I’m sorry, Derek?” Viradia was amused and somewhat puzzled, but she was also aware of her friend’s presence. She was also aware of the smug look on her friend’s face. She tried not to show her amusement. “Your - your bag?”
“Well, that’s the thing V - it’s not my bag. It’s, erm, yours.”
Viradia wrapped the badge in her hand and rested her forehead against her closed hand for a moment. I cannot believe this - Debra is going to love this. “Oh, I see - umm, how should I get it?”
“You’re at HQ right now, right?”
“Yes, in the dorms for visiting officers, but I’m kind of out right now - can you send it in about an hour?”
“Let’s see - that should be okay. I’ll bring it over to you then.”
Viradia raised her brow. “Oh no, I didn’t mean you had to bring it to me, sir. I can just get it from you later.”
“It’s fine - it’s just a transport away.”
Viradia wanted to end the conversation quickly - she could still feel her friend’s eyes looking at her from behind her mug. Well, I would like to be able to change for the rest of the trip. “Very well, 11:15?”
“Sounds good - see you in a few. Tournneau out.”
Viradia pocketed the comm badge and looked up to see her friend, grinning stupidly.
“So, was that your boyfriend, Commander Derek?” Debra said with a healthy dose of sarcasm.
“Stop!” Viradia exclaimed, laughing lightly. “He’s not my boyfriend for goodness’ sake.”
“Oh, that’s why he’s coming over in the middle of the night just to give you ‘a bag.’”
“Yes - no - shut up!” Viradia’s usually blue skin was starting to become a mottled purple. “We’re friends, that’s what friends do.”
“Ri-i-i-ght. And how did your bags even get mixed up?”
“I -” You know, that’s actually a good question. Oh! “When we transported down - I guess we got them mixed up in the transporter room in between me and him leaving the ship.”
“Come on V, when are you going to seal the deal with this guy? You’ve been hanging around with - oh I’m sorry, ‘working with’ - ,“ Debra corrected herself when Viradia scowled at her, “for over two years now? It’s clear you have chemistry.”
“Chemistry’s one thing, Debra but - “
“From what it sounds like, you two are tighter than the two of us when we were at the Academy!”
“Bu-u-u-t,” Viradia reiterated, “we’re in the same department - “
“Never stopped me.”
“Yeah, I know,” Viradia retorted. Debra dramatically pretended to be hurt. “But it’s a bit more complicated than that. He - he’s got a lot of baggage.”
“I know, I heard. He’s got yours right now.”
“That’s not what I mean -”
“Do you think he’s going through your stuff?”
“Debra! Remember, he lost his wife.”
Debra took a long drink out of her mug. “Sorry, V. Yeah, I remember now. It was a long time ago. Not that it makes it easy, I don’t know that kind of hurt. But it’s clear that he must be interested, too. You know that, right?”
“I mean, sometimes? I don’t know - we’re such good friends, it would be a shame to jeopardize that. Not to mention our careers.”
“I think the two of you are just kidding yourselves. I mean, yes, you could ruin your careers with this - if you were sixteen years old! You’re both professionals, if it doesn’t work you know you’ll be fine. Just fear of change, fear of risk.”
“Maybe you’re right. But hey - enough about my life - who’s this new guy you’re seeing?”
=^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^=
<<Space Needle, Downtown Seattle -- 2312 Hours>>
The family in front of Derek at the transporter pad dematerialized. After the coils de-energized, Derek stepped up to the pad and spoke to the terminal.
“Computer, this is Lieutenant Commander Derek Tournneau, Starfleet.”
“Receiving…”
“Initiate transport to Starfleet Headquarters, Dormitory Park.”
“Authenticating...clearance granted...coordinates confirmed. Ready to energize.”
“Energize.”
<<East Lawn, Starfleet HQ>>
Derek materialized on the pad of the dormitory park and headed across the grounds to the midrise complex that housed officers. It had been years since he'd been back - Derek hoped that there would be occasion to come back during the day to see more of his old stomping grounds. He entered the lobby, found the turbolifts, and got inside.
“Floor Twelve.” The turbolift whirred softly for a few moments and opened into a hallway. Tournneau walked down the hall briskly, rolling the troublesome grey suitcase behind him.
I wonder what series of events brought me to this moment - the moment where a Lieutenant Commander in the most powerful militarized force in the galaxy is delivering a bag. To his assistant. With whom things are getting awkward. Real fast.
Although, it hasn’t really been fast, has it? If two years is fast, then the way that normal people start relationships must be warp speed.
Derek stopped at the next door in the hallway. Number 1204. Here we go. He pressed the doorbell.
“Hello?” A familiar voice answered the bell.
“Hey, Viradia, it’s me.”
“Oh of course, one moment.” The door opened shortly, and revealed a smiling Viradia.
“Here you are, Lieutenant - one bag.” Derek handed her the suitcase.
“Thank you so much, Derek. You didn’t have to do that.”
“It’s no problem, really - I know how frustrating it is to not have your things when you need them.”
“Well, thanks again. So, do you want to come in, get your bag?”
Derek hesitated slightly. “Ah - sure, I’ll come in for a second.”
The suite was large in comparison to Viradia’s quarters on the Malinche, but still modest by terrestrial standards. Everything was nondescript and Starfleet issue. It served its purpose: revolving quarters for visiting officers on shoreleave or detachment. It had a decent view of the Starfleet grounds. The Golden Gate Bridge was partially visible in the distance.
“Do you want something to drink, Derek?”
“Ah, maybe something warm? A hot chocolate, perhaps?”
“Sure!” Viradia went to the replicator station and returned with two steaming mugs. The two sat down on the sofa, which faced the window.
“So, Viradia, how was your first day back here? It’s been a while, no? I haven’t been on the grounds since grad school.”
“Me, too,” Beladd said. “It was nice - I caught up with my old roommate from the Academy days just now.”
“Oh, nice - I don’t think I know anyone from those days that’s still around here to be honest,” Derek replied. “I’m just glad to see the family - everyone seems to be doing well.”
“Well, that’s good - I’m glad you’re getting to spend time with them, especially since…” Viradia trailed off, catching herself a little later than she hoped.
Derek sensed her hesitancy. “It’s okay - you’re right, it is good to be home this time around. My family usually holds a small commemoration service every year. About two dozen people or so, nothing too grand. I’ve had to holo-comm in for the past few years. Definitely helps, you know?”
Viradia didn’t know, but she smiled and nodded her head anyway. She watched Derek take a large sip of his drink and couldn’t help but feel a strong sense of empathy for him. Her eyes became a bit misty. She wished that she could reach out to console him. However, she knew that humans weren't quite as outgoing with their emotions as Bolians were; and given their unique situation she didn't want to push it.
“Look, Derek, I know that this is kind of a...special time for you and your family. I know you offered to have me come visit you guys, but maybe I should just stay in San Fran while we’re planetside.”
“No,” Derek quickly reassured her, “no, actually, that’s something else I wanted to talk to you about. I was wondering...I was wondering if you would like to come with me to the service in a couple of days. You’re the closest friend I have, and, well, I’d like you to be there.”
Viradia was a bit taken aback. “Umm, are you sure? I mean, I’d hate to intrude -”
“You won’t be.”
Viradia looked down at her feet, then back up at Derek. His face was melancholic, but he still had the hint of a smile in the corners of his mouth. “Okay, I’ll go. I’d be happy to be there for you.” Despite her misgivings, she reached out and gripped his shoulder lightly.
“Thank you, V. I appreciate it.” He raised the mug to his lips again, finishing the drink. Viradia released her hand from his shoulder. “But we’ll do something fun too - Seattle’s depressing enough as it is!”
Viradia laughed lightly despite herself. “Oh, I almost forgot - you should probably take this.” She produced Derek’s bag from where it was waiting next to the sofa.
“Now, you’re sure this one is mine, right?” Derek quipped.
“Quite sure,” she said.
Derek rose to leave, and Viradia followed him to the door.
“So, I’ll call you tomorrow or the next day, give you the details,” Derek said as he keyed the door’s release.
“That sounds fine. Thanks again - for the bag - and for inviting me.” Viradia smiled, trying to hide the water accumulating under her eyelid.
“All in the line of duty, Lieutenant,” Derek stated with a mock salute. “I’ll see you around.” Viradia nodded back and keyed the door shut.
She cleared her eyes and finished the rest of her cocoa as she gazed out at the Starfleet grounds. It was very kind of Derek to invite her into that part of his life, and she knew the unspoken significance of it. She put the used cups back in the replicator and began making her preparations for bed, dictating her customary personal log at the end of the day. It was a routine that her older sister, Trikis, had instilled in her. She found it to be very insightful when looking back on the past, and very therapeutic in dealing with the present.
In the hallway, Derek was about to board the turbolift down to the lobby. He stopped, looked around, and knelt down to open the suitcase and confirm its contents.
OFF
Lieutenant Debra Sandros (PNPC)
Warp Systems Design,
Team Gamma, Leader
Utopia Planitia Shipyard
and
Lieutenant Viradia Beladd (PNPC)
Assistant Chief Engineering Officer,
USS Malinche-A
and
ON:
<<Officers' Club, Starfleet Headquarters, San Francisco, Earth -- Shoreleave Day 01 -- 2220 Hours>>
Upbeat music pulsed through the darkened club, as people of all different rank and race mingled. The bar was busy, and waiters were roaming the seated areas taking orders and passing out drinks.
Viradia (PNPC) was seated with her old roommate, Debra Sandros (PNPC) on the terrace outside. The club was located on the roof of one of the squat buildings that made up the dormitory park of Starfleet’s headquarters complex. Most of the club was indoors, but it was surrounded by an outdoor seating area. From her seat, Viradia could see the sprawling grounds of the headquarters flow into that of the Academy; beyond that, the bay coast and the Golden Gate Bridge could be seen in the distance.
Viradia was still wearing the orange turtleneck and beanie cap that she had been wearing as she left the ship. Debra was an olive-skinned human with dark brown hair and eyes. She was still wearing her engineering officer's uniform.
Despite the patio warmers that were distributed outside, the cool January wind blew in off the bay, occasionally forcing its salty chill through the bubble of warmth that was emanating from the terrace. Viradia cupped her Irish hot chocolate in her hands, letting the mug warm her hands as the whiskey warmed her insides.
They had been catching up on the past few years. Debra and Viradia had gone through the Academy together as roommates and managed to get assigned to the Rhea for their first posting. After their first tour, Debra found herself more interested in starship design, while Viradia wanted to continue working aboard starships. Debra wound up at Utopia Planitia as part of a warp design team. Viradia continued on to graduate school and then the Malinche. Debra was in the middle of an anecdote about one of her junior team members.
“...and then he actually ended up going head first, straight into the core assembly! It’s a good thing that it wasn’t powered yet, or that would have been a mess.”
Viradia laughed. “Yes, but that must have set you back a few days - assemblies don’t really take kindly to being landed and stood on, I imagine.”
A light chirping sound interrupted Viradia’s train of thought. It was difficult to hear over the music and the general noise of the crowd around her at first. My badge! How long has it been going off? Viradia pulled her badge out of her pocket and pressed it.
“Tournneau to Beladd.”
“Umm, Beladd here Commander, any problems?” She was surprised to get comms from Tournneau - she’d only been disembarked for several hours.
“No, no problems per se, nothing urgent,” Derek said, “but you won’t believe what I found in my bag.”
“I’m sorry, Derek?” Viradia was amused and somewhat puzzled, but she was also aware of her friend’s presence. She was also aware of the smug look on her friend’s face. She tried not to show her amusement. “Your - your bag?”
“Well, that’s the thing V - it’s not my bag. It’s, erm, yours.”
Viradia wrapped the badge in her hand and rested her forehead against her closed hand for a moment. I cannot believe this - Debra is going to love this. “Oh, I see - umm, how should I get it?”
“You’re at HQ right now, right?”
“Yes, in the dorms for visiting officers, but I’m kind of out right now - can you send it in about an hour?”
“Let’s see - that should be okay. I’ll bring it over to you then.”
Viradia raised her brow. “Oh no, I didn’t mean you had to bring it to me, sir. I can just get it from you later.”
“It’s fine - it’s just a transport away.”
Viradia wanted to end the conversation quickly - she could still feel her friend’s eyes looking at her from behind her mug. Well, I would like to be able to change for the rest of the trip. “Very well, 11:15?”
“Sounds good - see you in a few. Tournneau out.”
Viradia pocketed the comm badge and looked up to see her friend, grinning stupidly.
“So, was that your boyfriend, Commander Derek?” Debra said with a healthy dose of sarcasm.
“Stop!” Viradia exclaimed, laughing lightly. “He’s not my boyfriend for goodness’ sake.”
“Oh, that’s why he’s coming over in the middle of the night just to give you ‘a bag.’”
“Yes - no - shut up!” Viradia’s usually blue skin was starting to become a mottled purple. “We’re friends, that’s what friends do.”
“Ri-i-i-ght. And how did your bags even get mixed up?”
“I -” You know, that’s actually a good question. Oh! “When we transported down - I guess we got them mixed up in the transporter room in between me and him leaving the ship.”
“Come on V, when are you going to seal the deal with this guy? You’ve been hanging around with - oh I’m sorry, ‘working with’ - ,“ Debra corrected herself when Viradia scowled at her, “for over two years now? It’s clear you have chemistry.”
“Chemistry’s one thing, Debra but - “
“From what it sounds like, you two are tighter than the two of us when we were at the Academy!”
“Bu-u-u-t,” Viradia reiterated, “we’re in the same department - “
“Never stopped me.”
“Yeah, I know,” Viradia retorted. Debra dramatically pretended to be hurt. “But it’s a bit more complicated than that. He - he’s got a lot of baggage.”
“I know, I heard. He’s got yours right now.”
“That’s not what I mean -”
“Do you think he’s going through your stuff?”
“Debra! Remember, he lost his wife.”
Debra took a long drink out of her mug. “Sorry, V. Yeah, I remember now. It was a long time ago. Not that it makes it easy, I don’t know that kind of hurt. But it’s clear that he must be interested, too. You know that, right?”
“I mean, sometimes? I don’t know - we’re such good friends, it would be a shame to jeopardize that. Not to mention our careers.”
“I think the two of you are just kidding yourselves. I mean, yes, you could ruin your careers with this - if you were sixteen years old! You’re both professionals, if it doesn’t work you know you’ll be fine. Just fear of change, fear of risk.”
“Maybe you’re right. But hey - enough about my life - who’s this new guy you’re seeing?”
=^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^=
<<Space Needle, Downtown Seattle -- 2312 Hours>>
The family in front of Derek at the transporter pad dematerialized. After the coils de-energized, Derek stepped up to the pad and spoke to the terminal.
“Computer, this is Lieutenant Commander Derek Tournneau, Starfleet.”
“Receiving…”
“Initiate transport to Starfleet Headquarters, Dormitory Park.”
“Authenticating...clearance granted...coordinates confirmed. Ready to energize.”
“Energize.”
<<East Lawn, Starfleet HQ>>
Derek materialized on the pad of the dormitory park and headed across the grounds to the midrise complex that housed officers. It had been years since he'd been back - Derek hoped that there would be occasion to come back during the day to see more of his old stomping grounds. He entered the lobby, found the turbolifts, and got inside.
“Floor Twelve.” The turbolift whirred softly for a few moments and opened into a hallway. Tournneau walked down the hall briskly, rolling the troublesome grey suitcase behind him.
I wonder what series of events brought me to this moment - the moment where a Lieutenant Commander in the most powerful militarized force in the galaxy is delivering a bag. To his assistant. With whom things are getting awkward. Real fast.
Although, it hasn’t really been fast, has it? If two years is fast, then the way that normal people start relationships must be warp speed.
Derek stopped at the next door in the hallway. Number 1204. Here we go. He pressed the doorbell.
“Hello?” A familiar voice answered the bell.
“Hey, Viradia, it’s me.”
“Oh of course, one moment.” The door opened shortly, and revealed a smiling Viradia.
“Here you are, Lieutenant - one bag.” Derek handed her the suitcase.
“Thank you so much, Derek. You didn’t have to do that.”
“It’s no problem, really - I know how frustrating it is to not have your things when you need them.”
“Well, thanks again. So, do you want to come in, get your bag?”
Derek hesitated slightly. “Ah - sure, I’ll come in for a second.”
The suite was large in comparison to Viradia’s quarters on the Malinche, but still modest by terrestrial standards. Everything was nondescript and Starfleet issue. It served its purpose: revolving quarters for visiting officers on shoreleave or detachment. It had a decent view of the Starfleet grounds. The Golden Gate Bridge was partially visible in the distance.
“Do you want something to drink, Derek?”
“Ah, maybe something warm? A hot chocolate, perhaps?”
“Sure!” Viradia went to the replicator station and returned with two steaming mugs. The two sat down on the sofa, which faced the window.
“So, Viradia, how was your first day back here? It’s been a while, no? I haven’t been on the grounds since grad school.”
“Me, too,” Beladd said. “It was nice - I caught up with my old roommate from the Academy days just now.”
“Oh, nice - I don’t think I know anyone from those days that’s still around here to be honest,” Derek replied. “I’m just glad to see the family - everyone seems to be doing well.”
“Well, that’s good - I’m glad you’re getting to spend time with them, especially since…” Viradia trailed off, catching herself a little later than she hoped.
Derek sensed her hesitancy. “It’s okay - you’re right, it is good to be home this time around. My family usually holds a small commemoration service every year. About two dozen people or so, nothing too grand. I’ve had to holo-comm in for the past few years. Definitely helps, you know?”
Viradia didn’t know, but she smiled and nodded her head anyway. She watched Derek take a large sip of his drink and couldn’t help but feel a strong sense of empathy for him. Her eyes became a bit misty. She wished that she could reach out to console him. However, she knew that humans weren't quite as outgoing with their emotions as Bolians were; and given their unique situation she didn't want to push it.
“Look, Derek, I know that this is kind of a...special time for you and your family. I know you offered to have me come visit you guys, but maybe I should just stay in San Fran while we’re planetside.”
“No,” Derek quickly reassured her, “no, actually, that’s something else I wanted to talk to you about. I was wondering...I was wondering if you would like to come with me to the service in a couple of days. You’re the closest friend I have, and, well, I’d like you to be there.”
Viradia was a bit taken aback. “Umm, are you sure? I mean, I’d hate to intrude -”
“You won’t be.”
Viradia looked down at her feet, then back up at Derek. His face was melancholic, but he still had the hint of a smile in the corners of his mouth. “Okay, I’ll go. I’d be happy to be there for you.” Despite her misgivings, she reached out and gripped his shoulder lightly.
“Thank you, V. I appreciate it.” He raised the mug to his lips again, finishing the drink. Viradia released her hand from his shoulder. “But we’ll do something fun too - Seattle’s depressing enough as it is!”
Viradia laughed lightly despite herself. “Oh, I almost forgot - you should probably take this.” She produced Derek’s bag from where it was waiting next to the sofa.
“Now, you’re sure this one is mine, right?” Derek quipped.
“Quite sure,” she said.
Derek rose to leave, and Viradia followed him to the door.
“So, I’ll call you tomorrow or the next day, give you the details,” Derek said as he keyed the door’s release.
“That sounds fine. Thanks again - for the bag - and for inviting me.” Viradia smiled, trying to hide the water accumulating under her eyelid.
“All in the line of duty, Lieutenant,” Derek stated with a mock salute. “I’ll see you around.” Viradia nodded back and keyed the door shut.
She cleared her eyes and finished the rest of her cocoa as she gazed out at the Starfleet grounds. It was very kind of Derek to invite her into that part of his life, and she knew the unspoken significance of it. She put the used cups back in the replicator and began making her preparations for bed, dictating her customary personal log at the end of the day. It was a routine that her older sister, Trikis, had instilled in her. She found it to be very insightful when looking back on the past, and very therapeutic in dealing with the present.
In the hallway, Derek was about to board the turbolift down to the lobby. He stopped, looked around, and knelt down to open the suitcase and confirm its contents.
OFF
Lieutenant Debra Sandros (PNPC)
Warp Systems Design,
Team Gamma, Leader
Utopia Planitia Shipyard
and
Lieutenant Viradia Beladd (PNPC)
Assistant Chief Engineering Officer,
USS Malinche-A
and
Lieutenant Commander Derek Tournneau
Chief Engineering Officer
USS Malinche NCC-38997-A
Re: Mission 23 - Back For More
OFF: This is a back-post.
ON:
<<Tournneau Residence, Kerry Park, Seattle, Earth -- Shoreleave Mission 23, Day 02 -- 0800 Hours>>
Derek woke up in his suite in his family’s apartment. He had a few brief seconds of confusion before he gained his bearings. The room was voluminous compared to his quarters on the Malinche, which were already one of the largest on the ship. He sat on the bed and watched the city for a while before entering a personal log.
While he was dictating, his sister, Adelaide (PNPC), rang the intercom on his door.
“Derek, are you awake yet? We’re going to go downtown for breakfast, wanna come with?”
“Computer, pause,” Derek ordered. He keyed the intercom to respond to his sister, “Yes, I’ll be right there. Lemme throw something on first.” He released the intercom and began changing as he finished making his log.
He came out into the main hallway, dressed in a hooded grey pullover and denim trousers. His sister and his younger brother, John (PNPC) were waiting there for him.
“No Mom and Dad?” Derek asked.
Adelaide shook her head. “Not right now; Dad’s already at work, and Mom’s tied up in board meetings this morning. We’ll see them around lunch, they’ve cleared their schedules after that.”
Derek nodded groggily as they made their way out of the apartment. “So, where are we going?”
“Oh, there’s this great little place down by the waterfront,” John suggested. “Fresh ingredients, just like the old days.”
“Sounds good to me!”
<<Starry Yolk Cafe -- Pike Place Market -- 0840 Hours>>
The Tournneau siblings entered the small brick building in the market square. The area had been remarkably well preserved to reflect its post-industrial beginnings, but there were still plenty of modern buildings and conveniences nearby.
As they were standing in line to order, John was going over some of the shop’s trivia.
“...and this place used to be a coffee shop a few hundred years ago - it used to be really popular, apparently. They expanded from this shop to having thousands of shops across the planet. But, when the first protein resequencers started appearing, the whole business collapsed. Kind of sad, really. Anyway…”
They continued through the line and eventually ordered some breakfast. They sat down with their plates laden with eggs, bacon, pancakes, and other various American staples.
“So, John, what’s new with the fleet? How are the ships holding up?” Derek asked his brother as he shoveled an entire pancake into his mouth.
“Oh, pretty well - we’re up to six refit Antares-class ships now, and we acquired another Deneva-class two years ago, bringing us back up to two of that class.” His brother took a big drink of some orange juice. “The older ships are holding up well, but are starting to show their age. We’re having to make more and more small adjustments and repairs. Each one is no big deal, but…”
Derek nodded knowingly. “Too many of them and you get set back like it was a refit. So, only the three new ships? I would have thought that things would grow a bit faster - not saying that it’s bad at all -” Derek quickly specified - “You know I have no head for the business end of things, Addie, it’s just that when I was still with the Company, we could barely keep up with demand.”
John piped up with his mouth still full of bacon. “Well, actually --”
“Actually, Derek,” Adelaide interjected, “Well - we’ve got something in the works.” She looked over at John with a raised eyebrow.
Derek chuckled a bit. “Well, I thought I was the one working for the military. Looks like the Tournneau Company’s got it’s own classified division.”
Adelaide started to try and explain, but Derek raised a hand. “No need, Addy, I get it. Well, whatever it is, I look forward to it.”
=^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^=
<<Tournneau Residence -- 1300 Hours>>
After breakfast, the Tournneaus spent some time just walking around the city center and catching up with one another. It had been about four and a half years since they had all been together in person. It was a welcome experience for them all. Derek was pleased to see his brother following in his footsteps, and yet not living in his shadow. He was a good engineer in his own right, and was doing well managing his side of things.
The entire Tournneau family was seated at the dining table in the spacious apartment now, just having finished eating lunch.
Adelaide spoke as she stood from the table. “Well, if you’ll excuse me, I do need to catch up on some paperwork. I’ll be back out in a little bit.”
“Well, don’t take too long dear,” Rachel (PNPC) called as Adelaide walked across the room. “We are supposed to go and see the symphony in a little while.”
“Oh, you guys got tickets for tonight? It’s been forever since I’ve been to a concert.” Derek was excited - the only way he’d been able to take in a show for the past several years was through the holodeck. Holo-recordings are good, but there’s nothing like the real thing.
“Yes, I thought you’d like it,” his mother said. “They’re playing Stravinsky and Delvok tonight.”
“Hmm, quite the pairing,” Derek mused. “Should be interesting. I guess I should change then?” He looked down at the very casual street clothes that he was still wearing from earlier.
“Yes, maybe that would be for the best,” his father (PNPC) chuckled.
=^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^=
Derek was in his room, trying to decide which coat to wear to the concert, when his father Andres came in the room.
“Hey there son, I hope I’m not intruding.”
“Oh of course not Dad, come in. Black or blue?”
“Hmm...definitely blue. Hey, listen son, I wanted to ask you about Anaya’s service in two days.” Andres’s voice became a little more gravelly than usual.
“You know we always have a small commemoration with our families and some of her friends in the company. Since you’re going to be able to be here in person this year, we were wondering - do you want to say a few words? I know it’s tough, son, ---”
“Yes, Dad, I think I would like to say just a little something.” Derek had put down the clothes and had turned fully to face his father at this point. “Thanks - it is nice to actually be able to be here. And Addy and John have been just great.
“I have something to ask of you, actually, for the service. I wanted to know if I could, erm, bring someone with me.”
Andres’s countenance lifted. He shook his head as he spoke. “Derek, you don’t have to ask us - Anaya was your wife. Whoever you invite, she will be welcome.”
“How do you know it’s a ‘she’?”
“Derek, I’m old but I’m not senile.”
OFF
Adelaide Tournneau (PNPC)
Chief Financial Officer,
Tournneau Trading Co.
Rachel Tournneau (PNPC)
President,
Tournneau Trading Co.
Andres Tournneau (PNPC)
Director,
Earth Climate Control, North/Central America
John Tournneau (PNPC)
Chief Engineer,
Tournneau Astromech Industries
And
ON:
<<Tournneau Residence, Kerry Park, Seattle, Earth -- Shoreleave Mission 23, Day 02 -- 0800 Hours>>
Derek woke up in his suite in his family’s apartment. He had a few brief seconds of confusion before he gained his bearings. The room was voluminous compared to his quarters on the Malinche, which were already one of the largest on the ship. He sat on the bed and watched the city for a while before entering a personal log.
While he was dictating, his sister, Adelaide (PNPC), rang the intercom on his door.
“Derek, are you awake yet? We’re going to go downtown for breakfast, wanna come with?”
“Computer, pause,” Derek ordered. He keyed the intercom to respond to his sister, “Yes, I’ll be right there. Lemme throw something on first.” He released the intercom and began changing as he finished making his log.
He came out into the main hallway, dressed in a hooded grey pullover and denim trousers. His sister and his younger brother, John (PNPC) were waiting there for him.
“No Mom and Dad?” Derek asked.
Adelaide shook her head. “Not right now; Dad’s already at work, and Mom’s tied up in board meetings this morning. We’ll see them around lunch, they’ve cleared their schedules after that.”
Derek nodded groggily as they made their way out of the apartment. “So, where are we going?”
“Oh, there’s this great little place down by the waterfront,” John suggested. “Fresh ingredients, just like the old days.”
“Sounds good to me!”
<<Starry Yolk Cafe -- Pike Place Market -- 0840 Hours>>
The Tournneau siblings entered the small brick building in the market square. The area had been remarkably well preserved to reflect its post-industrial beginnings, but there were still plenty of modern buildings and conveniences nearby.
As they were standing in line to order, John was going over some of the shop’s trivia.
“...and this place used to be a coffee shop a few hundred years ago - it used to be really popular, apparently. They expanded from this shop to having thousands of shops across the planet. But, when the first protein resequencers started appearing, the whole business collapsed. Kind of sad, really. Anyway…”
They continued through the line and eventually ordered some breakfast. They sat down with their plates laden with eggs, bacon, pancakes, and other various American staples.
“So, John, what’s new with the fleet? How are the ships holding up?” Derek asked his brother as he shoveled an entire pancake into his mouth.
“Oh, pretty well - we’re up to six refit Antares-class ships now, and we acquired another Deneva-class two years ago, bringing us back up to two of that class.” His brother took a big drink of some orange juice. “The older ships are holding up well, but are starting to show their age. We’re having to make more and more small adjustments and repairs. Each one is no big deal, but…”
Derek nodded knowingly. “Too many of them and you get set back like it was a refit. So, only the three new ships? I would have thought that things would grow a bit faster - not saying that it’s bad at all -” Derek quickly specified - “You know I have no head for the business end of things, Addie, it’s just that when I was still with the Company, we could barely keep up with demand.”
John piped up with his mouth still full of bacon. “Well, actually --”
“Actually, Derek,” Adelaide interjected, “Well - we’ve got something in the works.” She looked over at John with a raised eyebrow.
Derek chuckled a bit. “Well, I thought I was the one working for the military. Looks like the Tournneau Company’s got it’s own classified division.”
Adelaide started to try and explain, but Derek raised a hand. “No need, Addy, I get it. Well, whatever it is, I look forward to it.”
=^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^=
<<Tournneau Residence -- 1300 Hours>>
After breakfast, the Tournneaus spent some time just walking around the city center and catching up with one another. It had been about four and a half years since they had all been together in person. It was a welcome experience for them all. Derek was pleased to see his brother following in his footsteps, and yet not living in his shadow. He was a good engineer in his own right, and was doing well managing his side of things.
The entire Tournneau family was seated at the dining table in the spacious apartment now, just having finished eating lunch.
Adelaide spoke as she stood from the table. “Well, if you’ll excuse me, I do need to catch up on some paperwork. I’ll be back out in a little bit.”
“Well, don’t take too long dear,” Rachel (PNPC) called as Adelaide walked across the room. “We are supposed to go and see the symphony in a little while.”
“Oh, you guys got tickets for tonight? It’s been forever since I’ve been to a concert.” Derek was excited - the only way he’d been able to take in a show for the past several years was through the holodeck. Holo-recordings are good, but there’s nothing like the real thing.
“Yes, I thought you’d like it,” his mother said. “They’re playing Stravinsky and Delvok tonight.”
“Hmm, quite the pairing,” Derek mused. “Should be interesting. I guess I should change then?” He looked down at the very casual street clothes that he was still wearing from earlier.
“Yes, maybe that would be for the best,” his father (PNPC) chuckled.
=^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^=
Derek was in his room, trying to decide which coat to wear to the concert, when his father Andres came in the room.
“Hey there son, I hope I’m not intruding.”
“Oh of course not Dad, come in. Black or blue?”
“Hmm...definitely blue. Hey, listen son, I wanted to ask you about Anaya’s service in two days.” Andres’s voice became a little more gravelly than usual.
“You know we always have a small commemoration with our families and some of her friends in the company. Since you’re going to be able to be here in person this year, we were wondering - do you want to say a few words? I know it’s tough, son, ---”
“Yes, Dad, I think I would like to say just a little something.” Derek had put down the clothes and had turned fully to face his father at this point. “Thanks - it is nice to actually be able to be here. And Addy and John have been just great.
“I have something to ask of you, actually, for the service. I wanted to know if I could, erm, bring someone with me.”
Andres’s countenance lifted. He shook his head as he spoke. “Derek, you don’t have to ask us - Anaya was your wife. Whoever you invite, she will be welcome.”
“How do you know it’s a ‘she’?”
“Derek, I’m old but I’m not senile.”
OFF
Adelaide Tournneau (PNPC)
Chief Financial Officer,
Tournneau Trading Co.
Rachel Tournneau (PNPC)
President,
Tournneau Trading Co.
Andres Tournneau (PNPC)
Director,
Earth Climate Control, North/Central America
John Tournneau (PNPC)
Chief Engineer,
Tournneau Astromech Industries
And
Lieutenant Commander Derek Tournneau
Chief Engineering Officer
USS Malinche NCC-38997-A
Re: Mission 23 - Back For More
OFF: This is a back post.
ON:
<<Presidio Park, San Francisco, Earth - Shoreleave Day 01 - 1100 Hours>
Rays of sunlight poked their way through the thick layer of clouds that raced across the sky- pushed along at their brisk pace by the strong upper atmospheric winds coming off the pacific ocean. The golden columns moved equally fast across the surface, briefly illuminating patches of the lawn at the Presidio to bring out it's vibrant, perfectly manicured greenness before returning it to a winter gloom mere moments later. It wasn't overly cold but it was breezy and Setak pulled the collar of his black overcoat up to ward against the wind.
He reached into his pocket- into the bag concealed there and tore off another chunk of soft bread, still warm from the bakery across the street. He held it in his hand for a moment before tearing it into smaller pieces with both hands and tossed it to the growing crowd of geese who anxiously awaited the succulent morsels. He watched as the large birds stampeded to the pieces of bread, competed for it with loud honking noises and the beating of outstretched wings. There were no animals like this on Vulcan and few of similar variety on Trill- not that he would have taken the time to notice before anyway. He had always been phaser focused, he had never been permitted to be anything but.
“I'm pretty sure you can get in trouble for that,” Lieutenant David Robinson (PNPC) warned, though his tone wasn't serious. His thick cockney accent was difficult for the Vulcan to interpret sometimes, “I think there's a sign around here somewhere- don't feed the birds and all that rubbish.”
Setak only shrugged as he reached into his pocket lazily.
“You didn't answer the question,” Robinson continued, this time serious. He was a counselor and a particularly annoying one in Setak's opinion- who seemed to enjoy probing the minds of others with a singular type of zeal. “How do you feel?”
“That's a loaded question Counselor -” Setak stopped as he tossed more bread out and the honking continued. “- If I tell you that I am devoid of emotion, your report will undoubtedly say that I have refused to come to terms with my situation. If on the other hand, I say that I... Feel, much better now, you will tell your superiors that my trip, home, was unsuccessful.”
Robinson stood from the park bench and moved slowly to stand shoulder to shoulder with his patient, careful not to provoke the birds. He studied the side of Setak's face with a frown.
“There is no report Lieutenant,” the British man said. “and the question is honest, I want to know- as your counselor and as your friend. Its hard to tell what's going on inside that particularly opaque cranium of yours...”
Setak wadded up the now empty paper bag in his pocket and after a moment of intense calculation- guessing at the wind's velocity he tossed it at the trash can near the bench. The wad of paper hung in the air for a moment before being carried away by the wind- across the grass. Setak sighed with a shrug before turning to the Lieutenant.
“I am feeling-” Setak paused and looked up at the darting clouds in mock consideration. “Less, less than I was before.”
“You're an impossible man,” Robinson said with frustration.
“Thank you, I think?” Setak replied with the slightest of grins, a grin that he quickly lost to keep up appearances. He turned and began to walk slowly across the park, Robinson at his side. “The truth is, Counselor, that I'm not sure how I feel. Like a man caught between worlds perhaps, which is perhaps the most logical way for me to feel since I actually am a man caught between worlds.”
Robinson rolled his eyes, Setak was the only Vulcan he had ever met who not only told jokes but virtually never stopped telling them- if only they were funny.
“Go on.”
“My trip was... Enlightening,” Setak continued, referring to his year long stay on Vulcan. “But at the same time quite frustrating.”
“How so?”
“Because I couldn't help but to... Feel, like an alien on my own home world.”
“I see.”
“Do you?” Setak stopped and faced the Brit.
“Yes. I do, Setak.” Robinson folded his arms over his chest. “You need to adjust your expectations mate- you're entirely too hard on yourself. You've experienced changes in your life that are extraordinarily challenging, your world has in actuality been upended. These things take years to resolve-”
“I've been here for years, David,” Setak interjected.
“Decades then,” Robinson replied with arms outstretched. “It's going to take as long as it takes, you can't let that discourage you.”
“I am discouraged.”
Robinson sighed and shook his head, he looked down at his feet and then to the sky before returning his gaze to the Vulcan with a smile.
“Well, at least now I know how you actually feel.”
“You are an impossible man, Counselor,” Setak grimaced then continued walking.
“Yeah, we're alike in that way I think.”
The pair walked in silence for several minutes as they crossed the park, the USS Voyager loomed before them in all it's glory- but that wasn't their destination. Though he had verily pleaded with her not to come, T'ryn had arrived on Earth from Vulcan scant hours before. He would be meeting her for lunch shortly- a reunion too soon in coming.
“Are you eager to see her?” Robinson broke the silence.
“No.”
“Why is that?”
“Because she thinks that I am something I am most certainly not.”
“You're her son.”
“No, David- I am not. Her son is dead and I am nothing but a shadow of his memory.”
“Bullocks,” Robinson replied with concern. “Are you always that hard on yourself?”
“Not always,” Setak said distantly. “Often much harder.”
The walk continued in more silence and Setak could feel his blood beginning to simmer. It was better now- he hadn't had a bout of true anger in years but that level of control had come only with great effort. As the pair neared the end of the park Lieutenant Robinson slowed and clapped his patient on the back.
“You've made progress,” he said. “Whether you want to allow yourself to see it or not, just... Do something for me.”
“Here it comes...”
David frowned and moved so that he was only an arm's length from Setak, he put a hand on the Vulcan's shoulder.
“Be patient with yourself," Robinson said with a reassuring nod. He withdrew his hand and turned to face the street ahead. "And, for the love of god... be patient with her.”
Setak raised a brow and regarded his friend stoically.
“I assure you David, I am nothing if not impatient.”
Setak grinned slightly at the Brit before turning to depart- he didn't see Robinson shaking his head but had a feeling that he might be.
OFF:
Lieutenant David Robinson
Staff Counselor
Starfleet Medical
and
ON:
<<Presidio Park, San Francisco, Earth - Shoreleave Day 01 - 1100 Hours>
Rays of sunlight poked their way through the thick layer of clouds that raced across the sky- pushed along at their brisk pace by the strong upper atmospheric winds coming off the pacific ocean. The golden columns moved equally fast across the surface, briefly illuminating patches of the lawn at the Presidio to bring out it's vibrant, perfectly manicured greenness before returning it to a winter gloom mere moments later. It wasn't overly cold but it was breezy and Setak pulled the collar of his black overcoat up to ward against the wind.
He reached into his pocket- into the bag concealed there and tore off another chunk of soft bread, still warm from the bakery across the street. He held it in his hand for a moment before tearing it into smaller pieces with both hands and tossed it to the growing crowd of geese who anxiously awaited the succulent morsels. He watched as the large birds stampeded to the pieces of bread, competed for it with loud honking noises and the beating of outstretched wings. There were no animals like this on Vulcan and few of similar variety on Trill- not that he would have taken the time to notice before anyway. He had always been phaser focused, he had never been permitted to be anything but.
“I'm pretty sure you can get in trouble for that,” Lieutenant David Robinson (PNPC) warned, though his tone wasn't serious. His thick cockney accent was difficult for the Vulcan to interpret sometimes, “I think there's a sign around here somewhere- don't feed the birds and all that rubbish.”
Setak only shrugged as he reached into his pocket lazily.
“You didn't answer the question,” Robinson continued, this time serious. He was a counselor and a particularly annoying one in Setak's opinion- who seemed to enjoy probing the minds of others with a singular type of zeal. “How do you feel?”
“That's a loaded question Counselor -” Setak stopped as he tossed more bread out and the honking continued. “- If I tell you that I am devoid of emotion, your report will undoubtedly say that I have refused to come to terms with my situation. If on the other hand, I say that I... Feel, much better now, you will tell your superiors that my trip, home, was unsuccessful.”
Robinson stood from the park bench and moved slowly to stand shoulder to shoulder with his patient, careful not to provoke the birds. He studied the side of Setak's face with a frown.
“There is no report Lieutenant,” the British man said. “and the question is honest, I want to know- as your counselor and as your friend. Its hard to tell what's going on inside that particularly opaque cranium of yours...”
Setak wadded up the now empty paper bag in his pocket and after a moment of intense calculation- guessing at the wind's velocity he tossed it at the trash can near the bench. The wad of paper hung in the air for a moment before being carried away by the wind- across the grass. Setak sighed with a shrug before turning to the Lieutenant.
“I am feeling-” Setak paused and looked up at the darting clouds in mock consideration. “Less, less than I was before.”
“You're an impossible man,” Robinson said with frustration.
“Thank you, I think?” Setak replied with the slightest of grins, a grin that he quickly lost to keep up appearances. He turned and began to walk slowly across the park, Robinson at his side. “The truth is, Counselor, that I'm not sure how I feel. Like a man caught between worlds perhaps, which is perhaps the most logical way for me to feel since I actually am a man caught between worlds.”
Robinson rolled his eyes, Setak was the only Vulcan he had ever met who not only told jokes but virtually never stopped telling them- if only they were funny.
“Go on.”
“My trip was... Enlightening,” Setak continued, referring to his year long stay on Vulcan. “But at the same time quite frustrating.”
“How so?”
“Because I couldn't help but to... Feel, like an alien on my own home world.”
“I see.”
“Do you?” Setak stopped and faced the Brit.
“Yes. I do, Setak.” Robinson folded his arms over his chest. “You need to adjust your expectations mate- you're entirely too hard on yourself. You've experienced changes in your life that are extraordinarily challenging, your world has in actuality been upended. These things take years to resolve-”
“I've been here for years, David,” Setak interjected.
“Decades then,” Robinson replied with arms outstretched. “It's going to take as long as it takes, you can't let that discourage you.”
“I am discouraged.”
Robinson sighed and shook his head, he looked down at his feet and then to the sky before returning his gaze to the Vulcan with a smile.
“Well, at least now I know how you actually feel.”
“You are an impossible man, Counselor,” Setak grimaced then continued walking.
“Yeah, we're alike in that way I think.”
The pair walked in silence for several minutes as they crossed the park, the USS Voyager loomed before them in all it's glory- but that wasn't their destination. Though he had verily pleaded with her not to come, T'ryn had arrived on Earth from Vulcan scant hours before. He would be meeting her for lunch shortly- a reunion too soon in coming.
“Are you eager to see her?” Robinson broke the silence.
“No.”
“Why is that?”
“Because she thinks that I am something I am most certainly not.”
“You're her son.”
“No, David- I am not. Her son is dead and I am nothing but a shadow of his memory.”
“Bullocks,” Robinson replied with concern. “Are you always that hard on yourself?”
“Not always,” Setak said distantly. “Often much harder.”
The walk continued in more silence and Setak could feel his blood beginning to simmer. It was better now- he hadn't had a bout of true anger in years but that level of control had come only with great effort. As the pair neared the end of the park Lieutenant Robinson slowed and clapped his patient on the back.
“You've made progress,” he said. “Whether you want to allow yourself to see it or not, just... Do something for me.”
“Here it comes...”
David frowned and moved so that he was only an arm's length from Setak, he put a hand on the Vulcan's shoulder.
“Be patient with yourself," Robinson said with a reassuring nod. He withdrew his hand and turned to face the street ahead. "And, for the love of god... be patient with her.”
Setak raised a brow and regarded his friend stoically.
“I assure you David, I am nothing if not impatient.”
Setak grinned slightly at the Brit before turning to depart- he didn't see Robinson shaking his head but had a feeling that he might be.
OFF:
Lieutenant David Robinson
Staff Counselor
Starfleet Medical
and
Lieutenant Setak
Biologist
USS Malinche NCC-38997-A
Re: Mission 23 - Back For More
OFF: This is a backpost
ON:
<San Francisco, Starfleet Academy Gardens, Day 3, 1530>>
Isabel had arrived in San Francisco with her parents several hours ago and had let them show her some of the changes that had taken place. After lunch they had gone off to do some work while Isabel looked around a bit more and waited to meet up with Derek and potentially Viradia (NPC) as well. At the moment she was wandering around the gardens, which looked mostly the same to her.
Derek Tournneau and Viradia Beladd (PNPC) were walking briskly through the Academy complex to meet the Captain. Derek had beamed in from Seattle and met Viradia in the dormitory complex to meet Kersare together. He and Viradia were reminiscing about their days spent here, albeit at different points of time.
"Oh, wow," Derek exclaimed as they passed a particularly interesting building; it was not very tall, but had a very organic shape to it. "This part wasn't even done when I was back for grad school - it was just a field. What is this building, again?" Derek asked Viradia.
"That's the subspace mechanics school - they used to be crammed in the old engineering wing. They've been making some incredible advances and so they finally got their own building about a year before I started my Master's."
The pair continued walking down the path until they spotted the crimson-clad dot they were looking for in the distance.
"Oh, there she is! I hope we're not too late. Is my uniform right?" Derek asked Viradia as he adjusted one of his cuffs. "I figured I should stick to regs while we're in the belly of the beast."
Viradia looked him over. He was wearing the proper officer's uniform, not the omni-pocketed jumpsuit and jacket that he'd become accustomed to. Since there was nothing to fix here on Earth, there was no need to carry every tool and scanner imaginable on his person. "Yes, Derek, I think your uniform is the most right it's been in quite a long time."
As she wandered along, Isabel spotted both Derek and Viradia. She raised a hand to get their attention as she made her way over. Honestly, Isabel wasn't very surprised to see the two of them together. Over the past two years, they seemed to have developed a close friendship and if you saw one you were likely to see the other as well. They ran Engineering quite well together; she was lucky to have both of them, in her estimation.
"Hello Derek, Viradia," Isabel said with a smile as she approached them. "I'm glad you were able to make it; if I'm not mistaken you were up in Seattle, Derek? I hope I'm not intruding too much on your shoreleave. I was in the area and I thought I remembered that both of you were in the basic vicinity, so I thought I would see if you were available."
Derek gave the captain a perfunctory salute. "No, ma'am, it's not a problem - I was meaning to come down and see my old stomping grounds again, anyway. It's changed even from the last time I was here - certainly a lot different than my cadet days. And Ms. Beladd's living here anyway, so she doesn't really have an excuse."
"Thanks, Commander," Viradia said, rolling her eyes. "So, Captain, what brings you to Headquarters? Do we have orders yet?"
Isabel shook her head, "No word on our next mission yet...and we still have some positions that need filled, though knowing the Admiralty, if there's an urgent mission they'll send us even if we don't have all the transfers yet. I was visiting with my parents in Barcelona and came with them here today - they both work part-time at the Academy, among other things."
"Oh, that's right - I remember you telling me about that," Derek said. "Well - I don't know if you've eaten yet, but there should be a little cafe just past the commons over there - we can get a coffee or something light?"
"Sure, that sounds good. I had lunch, but it was a few hours ago," Isabel answered. "Lead the way... And how have your shoreleaves been so far? Hopefully you're not having to answer too many questions from the repair teams or anything..."
The trio of officers began walking towards the commons building. Derek replied to Kersare. "No - they have their list of things to complete, and there haven't been any deviations as of yet. It's been nice to be able to unplug from things somewhat. Not really easy for me to do sometimes."
"Oh, here it is - yeah, I used to come here a lot, too." Viradia pointed out the small cafe, which was attached to one of the central buildings. It had a small patio area, where a few cadets and officers were seated despite the January chill.
Isabel looked at the cafe Viradia pointed out and cocked her head to the side slightly, "Hmm...I do seem to remember this building, but I think it had a different name when I was here, at the very least. And I'm sure the decor has changed." If she remembered correctly, it had been a bit more shabby chick, with tables, but also couches and chairs in some upstairs rooms to make it a bit more cozy.
Moving inside, Isabel saw a menu on the wall behind a counter and some glass display cases which showed off some desserts and snacks, as well as a few straggling breakfast items. The only other person in line had just finished, so after a glance back towards Derek and Viradia, Isabel stepped forward and ordered, "Hot White chocolate, please, and I believe I'll have a raspberry scone as well."
"I'll take a normal hot chocolate," Derek said. He turned to Viradia.
"Oh, umm, I guess I'll take a cafe mocha."
It didn't take long for Isabel's order to appear on the counter. She smiled, thanked the young woman, and picked up the mug and small plate. Once the others had their orders, Isabel asked, "So where shall we sit? Any preferences? I don't particularly mind where, myself."
"Not outside?" Derek suggested. They sat a small table by a window. "Well, Captain, so far things seem to be on schedule. I have a brief meeting with the crew chief tomorrow morning to get some more details. Any word on some of the outstanding personnel assignments? First officer, Ops?"
Isabel placed her items on the table and took a seat, picking up her mug to take a sip. The creamy white hot chocolate warmed her as it slid down her throat. After taking a moment to enjoy it, she replied, "Okay, good. Obviously I don't know when we'll need to leave yet, but I'd rather the ship be ready for when we do get our orders. Thus far, I've not heard anything about any of the senior staff positions. For now, Commander Fala (PNPC) is filling in at Executive Officer, but I'm fairly certain Starfleet would like to fill the open senior staff positions before we leave."
"Well, hopefully there's a good pool to choose from," Derek said as he drank from his mug. "So, Kersare, what have you been up to on this shoreleave? Hopefully you've been able to actually leave the job for a little while? "
"I suppose we'll find out," Isabel said. "Thus far I've been fairly spoiled as Commanding Officer - I've known each of my XO's before they became my Executive Officer. I'm not sure that will be the case this time. Anyway...obviously today I've been visiting Academy - might be spending the night as well. Before that I was in Barcelona at my parents; home. What about the two of you?"
Derek put his mug down. "Well, I've been spending time with my family. It's strange being the older brother and coming home to see your little siblings taking up the mantle. It's almost what being a parent must feel like. It's been nice - they've been really accommodating, and we've been spending some quality time together."
"I've been catching up with a few old friends here at the Academy," Viradia chimed in. "Been taking in some of the sights as well."
"I'm not doing much today business-wise," Derek said. "I came here just now to go through some personnel files with Ms. Beladd - we've still got a few spots to fill in our department. There's some promising candidates for sure - so we'll try to figure some of it out today.
"Tomorrow, I have that one meeting and then I'm spending the rest of the day with my family. It's the...commemoration...of my late wife's passing. My family usually holds a small remembrance each year. This is the first time in a while that I've been able to actually attend in person."
"I'm glad to hear there are some promising candidates." Hearing Derek speak of his late wife, Isabel nodded solemnly, "I'm glad you'll have the chance to attend in person this time. I guess we had some good timing. How long has it been again, if you don't mind my asking?" She'd read about it in his file, but couldn't remember off the top of her head how long ago it had happened. "I take it the commemoration is in Seattle?"
"It will be nine years, now. I assume it will be in Seattle, yes. It's usually a small affair - perhaps two dozen people. Our two families, friends in the company. A few people holo-comm in if they're away and it's possible. That's how I've been able to be there for some time. The first few years were...not easy...but I believe the desire to 'forget' or 'move on' does an injustice to both the living and the dead."
Nodding, Isabel said, "Yes, that's true. Some people need or want to do that, at least for a time, as they aren't ready to face it I think. They do what they feel will best help them continue to function in some way without dwelling on what happened - sometimes ignoring it or pretending things are okay. I did my fair share of that, and keeping people at a distance, when Derek (PNPC) was captured by the Borg...of course, the difference was that I knew he was still alive, in a way, just not himself anymore."
"I think that may have been worse, in a manner of speaking," Tournneau said. "At least, I knew Anaya's fate, and what steps were next. With your Derek's situation - well, I'm just glad the outcome is that he's back among the free."
"True. And yes, in the end the outcome was better. Anyway," Isabel said, trying to change the subject into something a bit less dreary, "I have to admit to being curious as to what our next mission will be...especially if we're still missing people from key positions. It may be something more mundane for the time being."
"Well ma'am, if the choices are Borg incursions, pirate raiders, or mundane - mundane's not so bad."
OFF: JP brought to you by:
Lieutenant Commander Derek Tournneau
Chief Engineering Officer & Second Officer
USS Malinche NCC-38997-A
and
ON:
<San Francisco, Starfleet Academy Gardens, Day 3, 1530>>
Isabel had arrived in San Francisco with her parents several hours ago and had let them show her some of the changes that had taken place. After lunch they had gone off to do some work while Isabel looked around a bit more and waited to meet up with Derek and potentially Viradia (NPC) as well. At the moment she was wandering around the gardens, which looked mostly the same to her.
Derek Tournneau and Viradia Beladd (PNPC) were walking briskly through the Academy complex to meet the Captain. Derek had beamed in from Seattle and met Viradia in the dormitory complex to meet Kersare together. He and Viradia were reminiscing about their days spent here, albeit at different points of time.
"Oh, wow," Derek exclaimed as they passed a particularly interesting building; it was not very tall, but had a very organic shape to it. "This part wasn't even done when I was back for grad school - it was just a field. What is this building, again?" Derek asked Viradia.
"That's the subspace mechanics school - they used to be crammed in the old engineering wing. They've been making some incredible advances and so they finally got their own building about a year before I started my Master's."
The pair continued walking down the path until they spotted the crimson-clad dot they were looking for in the distance.
"Oh, there she is! I hope we're not too late. Is my uniform right?" Derek asked Viradia as he adjusted one of his cuffs. "I figured I should stick to regs while we're in the belly of the beast."
Viradia looked him over. He was wearing the proper officer's uniform, not the omni-pocketed jumpsuit and jacket that he'd become accustomed to. Since there was nothing to fix here on Earth, there was no need to carry every tool and scanner imaginable on his person. "Yes, Derek, I think your uniform is the most right it's been in quite a long time."
As she wandered along, Isabel spotted both Derek and Viradia. She raised a hand to get their attention as she made her way over. Honestly, Isabel wasn't very surprised to see the two of them together. Over the past two years, they seemed to have developed a close friendship and if you saw one you were likely to see the other as well. They ran Engineering quite well together; she was lucky to have both of them, in her estimation.
"Hello Derek, Viradia," Isabel said with a smile as she approached them. "I'm glad you were able to make it; if I'm not mistaken you were up in Seattle, Derek? I hope I'm not intruding too much on your shoreleave. I was in the area and I thought I remembered that both of you were in the basic vicinity, so I thought I would see if you were available."
Derek gave the captain a perfunctory salute. "No, ma'am, it's not a problem - I was meaning to come down and see my old stomping grounds again, anyway. It's changed even from the last time I was here - certainly a lot different than my cadet days. And Ms. Beladd's living here anyway, so she doesn't really have an excuse."
"Thanks, Commander," Viradia said, rolling her eyes. "So, Captain, what brings you to Headquarters? Do we have orders yet?"
Isabel shook her head, "No word on our next mission yet...and we still have some positions that need filled, though knowing the Admiralty, if there's an urgent mission they'll send us even if we don't have all the transfers yet. I was visiting with my parents in Barcelona and came with them here today - they both work part-time at the Academy, among other things."
"Oh, that's right - I remember you telling me about that," Derek said. "Well - I don't know if you've eaten yet, but there should be a little cafe just past the commons over there - we can get a coffee or something light?"
"Sure, that sounds good. I had lunch, but it was a few hours ago," Isabel answered. "Lead the way... And how have your shoreleaves been so far? Hopefully you're not having to answer too many questions from the repair teams or anything..."
The trio of officers began walking towards the commons building. Derek replied to Kersare. "No - they have their list of things to complete, and there haven't been any deviations as of yet. It's been nice to be able to unplug from things somewhat. Not really easy for me to do sometimes."
"Oh, here it is - yeah, I used to come here a lot, too." Viradia pointed out the small cafe, which was attached to one of the central buildings. It had a small patio area, where a few cadets and officers were seated despite the January chill.
Isabel looked at the cafe Viradia pointed out and cocked her head to the side slightly, "Hmm...I do seem to remember this building, but I think it had a different name when I was here, at the very least. And I'm sure the decor has changed." If she remembered correctly, it had been a bit more shabby chick, with tables, but also couches and chairs in some upstairs rooms to make it a bit more cozy.
Moving inside, Isabel saw a menu on the wall behind a counter and some glass display cases which showed off some desserts and snacks, as well as a few straggling breakfast items. The only other person in line had just finished, so after a glance back towards Derek and Viradia, Isabel stepped forward and ordered, "Hot White chocolate, please, and I believe I'll have a raspberry scone as well."
"I'll take a normal hot chocolate," Derek said. He turned to Viradia.
"Oh, umm, I guess I'll take a cafe mocha."
It didn't take long for Isabel's order to appear on the counter. She smiled, thanked the young woman, and picked up the mug and small plate. Once the others had their orders, Isabel asked, "So where shall we sit? Any preferences? I don't particularly mind where, myself."
"Not outside?" Derek suggested. They sat a small table by a window. "Well, Captain, so far things seem to be on schedule. I have a brief meeting with the crew chief tomorrow morning to get some more details. Any word on some of the outstanding personnel assignments? First officer, Ops?"
Isabel placed her items on the table and took a seat, picking up her mug to take a sip. The creamy white hot chocolate warmed her as it slid down her throat. After taking a moment to enjoy it, she replied, "Okay, good. Obviously I don't know when we'll need to leave yet, but I'd rather the ship be ready for when we do get our orders. Thus far, I've not heard anything about any of the senior staff positions. For now, Commander Fala (PNPC) is filling in at Executive Officer, but I'm fairly certain Starfleet would like to fill the open senior staff positions before we leave."
"Well, hopefully there's a good pool to choose from," Derek said as he drank from his mug. "So, Kersare, what have you been up to on this shoreleave? Hopefully you've been able to actually leave the job for a little while? "
"I suppose we'll find out," Isabel said. "Thus far I've been fairly spoiled as Commanding Officer - I've known each of my XO's before they became my Executive Officer. I'm not sure that will be the case this time. Anyway...obviously today I've been visiting Academy - might be spending the night as well. Before that I was in Barcelona at my parents; home. What about the two of you?"
Derek put his mug down. "Well, I've been spending time with my family. It's strange being the older brother and coming home to see your little siblings taking up the mantle. It's almost what being a parent must feel like. It's been nice - they've been really accommodating, and we've been spending some quality time together."
"I've been catching up with a few old friends here at the Academy," Viradia chimed in. "Been taking in some of the sights as well."
"I'm not doing much today business-wise," Derek said. "I came here just now to go through some personnel files with Ms. Beladd - we've still got a few spots to fill in our department. There's some promising candidates for sure - so we'll try to figure some of it out today.
"Tomorrow, I have that one meeting and then I'm spending the rest of the day with my family. It's the...commemoration...of my late wife's passing. My family usually holds a small remembrance each year. This is the first time in a while that I've been able to actually attend in person."
"I'm glad to hear there are some promising candidates." Hearing Derek speak of his late wife, Isabel nodded solemnly, "I'm glad you'll have the chance to attend in person this time. I guess we had some good timing. How long has it been again, if you don't mind my asking?" She'd read about it in his file, but couldn't remember off the top of her head how long ago it had happened. "I take it the commemoration is in Seattle?"
"It will be nine years, now. I assume it will be in Seattle, yes. It's usually a small affair - perhaps two dozen people. Our two families, friends in the company. A few people holo-comm in if they're away and it's possible. That's how I've been able to be there for some time. The first few years were...not easy...but I believe the desire to 'forget' or 'move on' does an injustice to both the living and the dead."
Nodding, Isabel said, "Yes, that's true. Some people need or want to do that, at least for a time, as they aren't ready to face it I think. They do what they feel will best help them continue to function in some way without dwelling on what happened - sometimes ignoring it or pretending things are okay. I did my fair share of that, and keeping people at a distance, when Derek (PNPC) was captured by the Borg...of course, the difference was that I knew he was still alive, in a way, just not himself anymore."
"I think that may have been worse, in a manner of speaking," Tournneau said. "At least, I knew Anaya's fate, and what steps were next. With your Derek's situation - well, I'm just glad the outcome is that he's back among the free."
"True. And yes, in the end the outcome was better. Anyway," Isabel said, trying to change the subject into something a bit less dreary, "I have to admit to being curious as to what our next mission will be...especially if we're still missing people from key positions. It may be something more mundane for the time being."
"Well ma'am, if the choices are Borg incursions, pirate raiders, or mundane - mundane's not so bad."
OFF: JP brought to you by:
Lieutenant Commander Derek Tournneau
Chief Engineering Officer & Second Officer
USS Malinche NCC-38997-A
and
Captain Isabel Kersare
Commanding Officer
USS Malinche NCC-38997-A
Re: Mission 23 - Back For More
On
<<Grounds, StarFleet Headquarters, San Francisco, Earth -- Shoreleave day 4 -- 0930 hours >>
Korath stepped back from the unexpected embrace but couldn't help but let slip a toothy grin. The young tan skinned half Klingon smiled at him. "I'm glad you came Father. You will come tonight won't you? Everyone in my squad is dying to meet you. "
Korath straightened his tunic and nodded. "I will make it a priority. "
She turned toward a pair of waving women. "That's me. I'll see you later tonight then. " As Ba'el jogged to meet her friends, Korath let out a long sigh. It was one thing to make an attempt to meet his daughter, but a dinner party with several former cadets turned junior officers; he almost preferred to face a horde of Jem'hadar. He now had several hours to kill and very little to hold his interest that long.
He took one last look around before he would decide to leave, but noticed a familiar face from the plethora of service records he had looked into before coming aboard the Malinche. "Commander Tournneau?" he called out as he crossed the path toward the Engineer.
Derek was on his way back to the transport pad after a mid-morning meeting with the Spacedock crew chief. Everything was in order so far. Everything is on schedule, which of course, would only happen on Earth. There wasn't too much that needed repairing, which certainly helped. Only a partial overhaul, no major surgery. Derek was caught up in thought when a shockingly large figure started cutting a path across the lawn towards him. He looked up at the source of the voice that called him.
Oh, it's our new XO - Mr. Korath. Kersare updated us yesterday - his record photo seemed familiar, but I definitely remember him now. Derek stopped and went to the other officer. Goddamn, I thought Viradia was tall. Derek gave Korath an informal salute and extended his hand. "Hello Mr. Korath - welcome aboard! I don't know if you remember me - I was a year ahead of you at the Academy during the war. I believe our ships saw some action together as well."
Korath studied the man for a few moments. His gaze almost peering through Derek. "Indeed. I wasn't aware of that until I read your file on the trip back to ESD. (Earth SpaceDock) "You were in the tactical program back then. Chintoka was it not?" Compared to the second battle for Chintoka, the first battle and the battle to retake Deep Space Nine were what the Humans called a cake walk. More than a few of their class mates did not survive that meat grinder. "Good to see you again. Last I heard you resigned after the war."
"Yes sir, that's right on both accounts. I left after the war was over - my family has a trading fleet, and I served aboard our flagship for about nine years."
"I see you took up engineering as well. It is good to challenge oneself and seek new ways to improve. What made you decide to return to StarFleet?" He asked. He didn't have time to dig deep into everyone's file. He spent most of the trip back to earth skimming the files for the majority of the crew to get a general idea of how the crew shaped up. This chance meeting would serve as an informal interview as well as a catching up opportunity.
"Well, I was originally an Engineering major. I switched to Tactical when I saw the fires of war growing. After the war, I decided I was done being a soldier, and went back to the family business. I was an engineer's mate on our flagship, Impetuous. Besides being a part of the family business, I actually ended up meeting my wife aboard the ship - she was the captain, in fact. We started dating a couple of years into my tour and we were eventually married. I also became the chief engineer aboard the ship. They were good years.
"But, our ship was attacked and destroyed nine years ago. I lost my ship, most of my crew, and my wife. It took me about a year to convalesce, but after some time I decided to come back to Starfleet. Leaving the battlefield didn't keep conflict from finding me; I figure that I can have the most impact with my life here." Derek stopped, and scratched the back of his head. "At least, that's the short version. I'm not sure if it makes any sense to you, sir."
Korath's gaze seemed far away for a moment. He was no stranger to loss. Nor was he a stranger to having one's past follow them despite every effort to avoid it. "More than you know Chief. I lost Jessica almost three years into my first tour. I believed joining starfleet would mark the end of a dark chapter in my life. I was wrong. It cost me her life, my daughter's trust, nearly ended my career. Still I thought about leaving Starfleet then. In the end I decided to stay. It was my way of holding on I suppose." Korath placed a large hand on Derek's shoulder in a rather rare display of almost human emotion.
Derek was slightly surprised by the unexpected massive arm landing on his shoulder. He grappled the taller officer's forearm to return the sign of friendship, reverting to how he was usually greeted by Klingon officers during the war. "Well, sir, while I don't celebrate your loss, it's good to know that there is someone who does truly understand." He let go of the other's arm as it was released from his shoulder.
"It was actually nine years ago today. My family is going to have a small commemoration later this evening. It's become an annual occurrence now. We celebrate her life, and thank her for her sacrifice. She remained on the bridge so that the few of us that escaped could survive."
"It is good, you do her great honor." Korath replied.
Derek nodded solemnly. "She is worthy of it. I am glad that our schedule allowed me to be home this year - it will be good to attend in person.
"Speaking of, Commander, I do need to go and meet a friend before we head up to Seattle and make our preparations. I'm glad we ran into each other - I look forward to having you aboard."
Korath nodded and stood straight while he straightened his tunic. "Understood Commander, I won't keep you then. Likewise, I look forward to serving with you." The Klingon stepped back and once more extended a hand to shake before parting ways.
Tournneau took the large hand in his and shook it firmly. "Indeed, Mr. Korath. It was a pleasure meeting you." Derek smiled and nodded in parting. Well, Derek thought to himself, that was certainly a pleasant surprise. I can certainly see why Starfleet assigned him to be first officer on a tactical ship. He seems as interesting as his service record suggested. He looked down at his chronometer. Oh, I'm late to fetch Viradia. I hope she's done packing.
"Go, I believe I should prepare for my own dinner plans." Korath replied with just the slightest hint of dread.
OFF: JP brought to you by:
Lieutenant Commander Derek Tournneau
Chief Engineering Officer
USS Malinche NCC-38997-A
and
<<Grounds, StarFleet Headquarters, San Francisco, Earth -- Shoreleave day 4 -- 0930 hours >>
Korath stepped back from the unexpected embrace but couldn't help but let slip a toothy grin. The young tan skinned half Klingon smiled at him. "I'm glad you came Father. You will come tonight won't you? Everyone in my squad is dying to meet you. "
Korath straightened his tunic and nodded. "I will make it a priority. "
She turned toward a pair of waving women. "That's me. I'll see you later tonight then. " As Ba'el jogged to meet her friends, Korath let out a long sigh. It was one thing to make an attempt to meet his daughter, but a dinner party with several former cadets turned junior officers; he almost preferred to face a horde of Jem'hadar. He now had several hours to kill and very little to hold his interest that long.
He took one last look around before he would decide to leave, but noticed a familiar face from the plethora of service records he had looked into before coming aboard the Malinche. "Commander Tournneau?" he called out as he crossed the path toward the Engineer.
Derek was on his way back to the transport pad after a mid-morning meeting with the Spacedock crew chief. Everything was in order so far. Everything is on schedule, which of course, would only happen on Earth. There wasn't too much that needed repairing, which certainly helped. Only a partial overhaul, no major surgery. Derek was caught up in thought when a shockingly large figure started cutting a path across the lawn towards him. He looked up at the source of the voice that called him.
Oh, it's our new XO - Mr. Korath. Kersare updated us yesterday - his record photo seemed familiar, but I definitely remember him now. Derek stopped and went to the other officer. Goddamn, I thought Viradia was tall. Derek gave Korath an informal salute and extended his hand. "Hello Mr. Korath - welcome aboard! I don't know if you remember me - I was a year ahead of you at the Academy during the war. I believe our ships saw some action together as well."
Korath studied the man for a few moments. His gaze almost peering through Derek. "Indeed. I wasn't aware of that until I read your file on the trip back to ESD. (Earth SpaceDock) "You were in the tactical program back then. Chintoka was it not?" Compared to the second battle for Chintoka, the first battle and the battle to retake Deep Space Nine were what the Humans called a cake walk. More than a few of their class mates did not survive that meat grinder. "Good to see you again. Last I heard you resigned after the war."
"Yes sir, that's right on both accounts. I left after the war was over - my family has a trading fleet, and I served aboard our flagship for about nine years."
"I see you took up engineering as well. It is good to challenge oneself and seek new ways to improve. What made you decide to return to StarFleet?" He asked. He didn't have time to dig deep into everyone's file. He spent most of the trip back to earth skimming the files for the majority of the crew to get a general idea of how the crew shaped up. This chance meeting would serve as an informal interview as well as a catching up opportunity.
"Well, I was originally an Engineering major. I switched to Tactical when I saw the fires of war growing. After the war, I decided I was done being a soldier, and went back to the family business. I was an engineer's mate on our flagship, Impetuous. Besides being a part of the family business, I actually ended up meeting my wife aboard the ship - she was the captain, in fact. We started dating a couple of years into my tour and we were eventually married. I also became the chief engineer aboard the ship. They were good years.
"But, our ship was attacked and destroyed nine years ago. I lost my ship, most of my crew, and my wife. It took me about a year to convalesce, but after some time I decided to come back to Starfleet. Leaving the battlefield didn't keep conflict from finding me; I figure that I can have the most impact with my life here." Derek stopped, and scratched the back of his head. "At least, that's the short version. I'm not sure if it makes any sense to you, sir."
Korath's gaze seemed far away for a moment. He was no stranger to loss. Nor was he a stranger to having one's past follow them despite every effort to avoid it. "More than you know Chief. I lost Jessica almost three years into my first tour. I believed joining starfleet would mark the end of a dark chapter in my life. I was wrong. It cost me her life, my daughter's trust, nearly ended my career. Still I thought about leaving Starfleet then. In the end I decided to stay. It was my way of holding on I suppose." Korath placed a large hand on Derek's shoulder in a rather rare display of almost human emotion.
Derek was slightly surprised by the unexpected massive arm landing on his shoulder. He grappled the taller officer's forearm to return the sign of friendship, reverting to how he was usually greeted by Klingon officers during the war. "Well, sir, while I don't celebrate your loss, it's good to know that there is someone who does truly understand." He let go of the other's arm as it was released from his shoulder.
"It was actually nine years ago today. My family is going to have a small commemoration later this evening. It's become an annual occurrence now. We celebrate her life, and thank her for her sacrifice. She remained on the bridge so that the few of us that escaped could survive."
"It is good, you do her great honor." Korath replied.
Derek nodded solemnly. "She is worthy of it. I am glad that our schedule allowed me to be home this year - it will be good to attend in person.
"Speaking of, Commander, I do need to go and meet a friend before we head up to Seattle and make our preparations. I'm glad we ran into each other - I look forward to having you aboard."
Korath nodded and stood straight while he straightened his tunic. "Understood Commander, I won't keep you then. Likewise, I look forward to serving with you." The Klingon stepped back and once more extended a hand to shake before parting ways.
Tournneau took the large hand in his and shook it firmly. "Indeed, Mr. Korath. It was a pleasure meeting you." Derek smiled and nodded in parting. Well, Derek thought to himself, that was certainly a pleasant surprise. I can certainly see why Starfleet assigned him to be first officer on a tactical ship. He seems as interesting as his service record suggested. He looked down at his chronometer. Oh, I'm late to fetch Viradia. I hope she's done packing.
"Go, I believe I should prepare for my own dinner plans." Korath replied with just the slightest hint of dread.
OFF: JP brought to you by:
Lieutenant Commander Derek Tournneau
Chief Engineering Officer
USS Malinche NCC-38997-A
and
Lieutenant Commander Korath
Executive Officer
USS Malinche NCC-38997-A
Re: Mission 23 - Back For More
ON:
<<Earth Space Dock, Prominade, Day 5>>
Ba'el (pnpc) walked along the Promenade deck of the massive ESD facility. she passed a group of cadets. the group quickly stepped aside and snapped to attention as she passed by; the act threw her off for several seconds, her step pausing for the briefest of moments before she took a breath and smiled at the Cadets. Good morning Cadets. It was going to take her some time to get use to her new rank. It still felt a little weird having the occasional cadet or enlisted member call her Sir.
"Ba'el!" a voice pierced the ambient noise of the Promenade. She turned and saw the source. Zoe Watson (pnpc), probably her best friend at the academy. "Can you believe it, our orders finally came down. PLEASE tell me you've checked already!"
"I've been too busy wandering the shops to log in and check." The half Klingon said shaking her head. "I was planning to check after I went shopping. I thought I would check the new Klingon shop. I wanted to get my Father something since he was nice enough to come to dinner last night, even though it wasn't exactly his thing."
"You will want to take a look at this then." Zoe replied handing her friend a P.A.D.D with a list of their classes' assignments. Ba'el scrolled down to her name. "Assigned to USS Malinche, Operations Officer?" A combat Vessel? she had been hoping for a deep space exploration assignment. A Prometheus class was a deep space tactical ship; at least she wasn't assigned to some aging starship stuck near the terran sector.
"Look who the XO is." Zoe prompted with an air of hesitation in her voice.
"This has to be some sort of mistake! There is something about wanting to reconnect, but this!? A little controlling don't you think?" Ba'el fumed.
"Some may say it could be sweet that he wants to have his daughter with him on her first assignment." Zoe made a forced grin and a thumbs up motion, however it did not quite go over quite as she wanted.
"I'm going to kill him. That is the plan. I'm literally going to kill him for making a fool out of me in front of the whole class. What was he thinking? I know he had to have pulled some strings to get me assigned to the same ship."
"Let's not jump to conclusions. Why don't you talk to him and find out his side of the story before you jump to capital crimes as a solution hrmm? Look you know I love you, but I really do think you two need to put this whole not talking thing to bed. It's been sixteen years. I don't think your mom would have wanted the two of you to be alienated because of her death. Please just talk to him and see what he has to say okay?"
Ba'el let out a long sigh, then smiled at her friend, taking her hands in hers. "I guess you're right. I guess I was just angry that It looked like he didn't think I was capable of carrying out an assignment on my own. I earned my place at the academy and worked hard to earn my commission. It isn't like he hasn't always been strict or overly critical of my choice to adopt 'Human' values.
"Can you blame him?" Zoe asked pulling Ba'el into a hug."You're half Klingon. Is it so wrong for him to want to expose you to a culture that is as much yours as your mother's?"
"Days on the holodeck in some sweaty, stuffy cave trying to have some vision quest, or being grounded for a week for failing to 'keep up' with my Bat'leth training?" She scoffed. "Not exactly the cultural glory days from what I remember. A tear ran down Ba'el's face and Zoe parted the embrace to wipe it away, her voice soft and soothing.
"Oh Honey, as hard as it seemed to be on you at the time; it must have been hard on him as well. Granted I only know what you have told me, but see it from his point of view. He all but lost everything by being exiled. Imagine being only one of two Klingons in Starfleet. Re-learning how to live. 'Exploring rather than conquering' talking rather than settling squabbles with a blade. Meeting a Human woman, having a baby then facing losing everything again because of a mistake he made years before. No wonder he wanted to prepare you to defend yourself. I'm not saying that he couldn't have found a middle ground there, but it must have been hard for him, even scary to try and raise a daughter alone. It must have been even worse trying to relate to one that was Half Human. He loves you, I'm sure of it. If anything I can tell from dinner last night is that he is proud of you. All I am saying is that he probably doesn't know how to relate to you as a parent who hasn't grown up in the Federation. I think he regrets not being there for you more. I think you should give him a chance and tell him how you feel.
Ba'el starred blankly at Zoe for several minutes not quite sure what to say, her head swimming with dozens of thoughts and feelings all intertwined and weaving around each other. "But how do I know if I'm ready to take that step?" she asked.
"I think you already have by reaching out to him after all this time. Now all you have to do is ask yourself what sort of relationship do you want to have with him." Zoe smiled and squeezed Ba'el's hand.
Ba'el nodded and backed away a step, her gaze turning to the Klingon gift shop a few dozen meters away. She took a deep breath. "You should have gone into the sciences instead of Command. You know, you would make a half decent Counselor."
Zoe laughed and tossed her hands in the air. "Oh no. You're the only one that gets the benefit of my grand experience. I would go nuts stuck in one of those offices all day. Look; I gotta run but I'll see you later ok? Promise me you will think about what I said."
Ba'el nodded and waved as Zoe skipped off. As she walked over to the shop and started to peruse the wares, she tapped her comm badge. "Computer, can you locate Lt.Cmdr Korath?"
[Lieutenant Commander Korath is aboard the USS Malinche.] the computer replied.
As she picked up and examined a ceremonial dagger, she thought to herself. Here goes nothing.
OFF:
Ensign Ba'el (PNPC)
Operations Officer
USS Malinche NCC-38997-A
Ensign Zoe Watson (PNPC)
Helm Officer
USS Turn bull NCC-28956
<<Earth Space Dock, Prominade, Day 5>>
Ba'el (pnpc) walked along the Promenade deck of the massive ESD facility. she passed a group of cadets. the group quickly stepped aside and snapped to attention as she passed by; the act threw her off for several seconds, her step pausing for the briefest of moments before she took a breath and smiled at the Cadets. Good morning Cadets. It was going to take her some time to get use to her new rank. It still felt a little weird having the occasional cadet or enlisted member call her Sir.
"Ba'el!" a voice pierced the ambient noise of the Promenade. She turned and saw the source. Zoe Watson (pnpc), probably her best friend at the academy. "Can you believe it, our orders finally came down. PLEASE tell me you've checked already!"
"I've been too busy wandering the shops to log in and check." The half Klingon said shaking her head. "I was planning to check after I went shopping. I thought I would check the new Klingon shop. I wanted to get my Father something since he was nice enough to come to dinner last night, even though it wasn't exactly his thing."
"You will want to take a look at this then." Zoe replied handing her friend a P.A.D.D with a list of their classes' assignments. Ba'el scrolled down to her name. "Assigned to USS Malinche, Operations Officer?" A combat Vessel? she had been hoping for a deep space exploration assignment. A Prometheus class was a deep space tactical ship; at least she wasn't assigned to some aging starship stuck near the terran sector.
"Look who the XO is." Zoe prompted with an air of hesitation in her voice.
"This has to be some sort of mistake! There is something about wanting to reconnect, but this!? A little controlling don't you think?" Ba'el fumed.
"Some may say it could be sweet that he wants to have his daughter with him on her first assignment." Zoe made a forced grin and a thumbs up motion, however it did not quite go over quite as she wanted.
"I'm going to kill him. That is the plan. I'm literally going to kill him for making a fool out of me in front of the whole class. What was he thinking? I know he had to have pulled some strings to get me assigned to the same ship."
"Let's not jump to conclusions. Why don't you talk to him and find out his side of the story before you jump to capital crimes as a solution hrmm? Look you know I love you, but I really do think you two need to put this whole not talking thing to bed. It's been sixteen years. I don't think your mom would have wanted the two of you to be alienated because of her death. Please just talk to him and see what he has to say okay?"
Ba'el let out a long sigh, then smiled at her friend, taking her hands in hers. "I guess you're right. I guess I was just angry that It looked like he didn't think I was capable of carrying out an assignment on my own. I earned my place at the academy and worked hard to earn my commission. It isn't like he hasn't always been strict or overly critical of my choice to adopt 'Human' values.
"Can you blame him?" Zoe asked pulling Ba'el into a hug."You're half Klingon. Is it so wrong for him to want to expose you to a culture that is as much yours as your mother's?"
"Days on the holodeck in some sweaty, stuffy cave trying to have some vision quest, or being grounded for a week for failing to 'keep up' with my Bat'leth training?" She scoffed. "Not exactly the cultural glory days from what I remember. A tear ran down Ba'el's face and Zoe parted the embrace to wipe it away, her voice soft and soothing.
"Oh Honey, as hard as it seemed to be on you at the time; it must have been hard on him as well. Granted I only know what you have told me, but see it from his point of view. He all but lost everything by being exiled. Imagine being only one of two Klingons in Starfleet. Re-learning how to live. 'Exploring rather than conquering' talking rather than settling squabbles with a blade. Meeting a Human woman, having a baby then facing losing everything again because of a mistake he made years before. No wonder he wanted to prepare you to defend yourself. I'm not saying that he couldn't have found a middle ground there, but it must have been hard for him, even scary to try and raise a daughter alone. It must have been even worse trying to relate to one that was Half Human. He loves you, I'm sure of it. If anything I can tell from dinner last night is that he is proud of you. All I am saying is that he probably doesn't know how to relate to you as a parent who hasn't grown up in the Federation. I think he regrets not being there for you more. I think you should give him a chance and tell him how you feel.
Ba'el starred blankly at Zoe for several minutes not quite sure what to say, her head swimming with dozens of thoughts and feelings all intertwined and weaving around each other. "But how do I know if I'm ready to take that step?" she asked.
"I think you already have by reaching out to him after all this time. Now all you have to do is ask yourself what sort of relationship do you want to have with him." Zoe smiled and squeezed Ba'el's hand.
Ba'el nodded and backed away a step, her gaze turning to the Klingon gift shop a few dozen meters away. She took a deep breath. "You should have gone into the sciences instead of Command. You know, you would make a half decent Counselor."
Zoe laughed and tossed her hands in the air. "Oh no. You're the only one that gets the benefit of my grand experience. I would go nuts stuck in one of those offices all day. Look; I gotta run but I'll see you later ok? Promise me you will think about what I said."
Ba'el nodded and waved as Zoe skipped off. As she walked over to the shop and started to peruse the wares, she tapped her comm badge. "Computer, can you locate Lt.Cmdr Korath?"
[Lieutenant Commander Korath is aboard the USS Malinche.] the computer replied.
As she picked up and examined a ceremonial dagger, she thought to herself. Here goes nothing.
OFF:
Ensign Ba'el (PNPC)
Operations Officer
USS Malinche NCC-38997-A
Ensign Zoe Watson (PNPC)
Helm Officer
USS Turn bull NCC-28956
Lieutenant Commander Korath
Executive Officer
USS Malinche NCC-38997-A
Re: Mission 23 - Back For More
OFF: This is a backpost.
ON:
<<Officer’s Dormitories, Starfleet Headquarters, San Francisco, Earth -- Shoreleave Day 04 -- 1015 Hours>>
Typical….
Derek mentally rolled his eyes as Viradia (PNPC) was scrambling about her suite, throwing items into a suitcase. “You know, you’re only going to be gone a day or two. And if you forget something, we do have these really cool things called ‘replicators.’”
“Yes, Derek, I know - I’m almost done. There!” Viradia said triumphantly as she threw a smattering of cosmetics into her bag and shut it.
Derek noticed a large orange stripe had been painted on the side of the suitcase. Well, that’s not going to happen again. “Shall we?”
“Lead the way, Commander,” Viradia said.
Once they reached the ground floor, the two set off for the transport pad on the East Lawn of the headquarters. “So, have you ever been to Seattle before?” Derek asked Viradia.
“No, actually - I’ve been further north, to Alaska before, but never there. Weather looks to be a bit colder, a bit rainier than here.”
“Yes, outsiders often find it to be ‘dreary’ or ‘depressing’. I’ve always liked grey weather - I find that in the rain against a grey sky, the colors of everything else seem to be more vibrant than in the sunshine.”
“Oh, don’t worry Derek, have you ever been to Bolarus?”
“No.”
“Well,” Viradia continued, “it is very...weather prone…so Seattle will probably seem like nice fall day to me!”
Derek laughed. “Well, that’s good. People either love it or hate it. Ah, here we are.” The pair arrived at the transporter pad and stepped up to the platform. Derek keyed the panel.
“Two to transport - Seattle City Center.”
The computer beeped in response. “Standby...energizing…”
=^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^=
<<Tournneau Residence -- 1040 Hours>>
Viradia gazed up at the residential tower in front of her. “Wow - I knew your family had its own shipping company, but I didn’t realize they were doing so well for themselves. You said they had - what - five Antares-class ships?”
Derek smiled a bit sheepishly. “Six, actually. And two Deneva-class, the same as my ship was.”
“Those are pretty heavy ships for a civilian outfit.”
“Well, that’s my Mom for you,” Derek snorted as he opened the exterior door to the building. They both boarded one of the finely trimmed turbolifts in the lobby.
“Tournneau Residence,” Derek ordered. The car purred softly as it ascended the building.
“So...Derek,” Viradia started.
“Yes?”
“I hope this isn’t too personal a question, but if your family is this wealthy, why did you come back to Starfleet? You could be living on your own private island! Your quarters must seem awfully crammed compared to what you have here.”
Derek looked down self-consciously. He knew his family’s material wealth was uncommon, especially in Starfleet circles. It wasn’t something that he was ashamed of - after all, it had proved handy to be rich many times in his life - but it was something that he was still uncomfortable with. “Well,” Derek responded, “I’ve been in space pretty much since I graduated from the Academy; even when I worked for my family. It just seemed like the right thing to do.”
The turbolift arrived in the entry hall of the Tournneau’s apartment. The two officers exited and were welcomed by Derek’s mother, Rachel (PNPC). She was dressed warmly in casual attire, her white hair drawn up in a bun.
“Welcome back, Derek,” Rachel said, and turned her attention to the blue stranger in her apartment. “Ah, and you must be Derek’s friend, Viradia. Welcome to our home.” Rachel smiled and extended her hand gracefully.
Viradia returned the handshake. “Thank you, Mrs. Tournneau - it’s a wonderful apartment that you have here.”
“Thank you - it serves us well,” she said modestly. “Derek, can you please show your friend to the guest room? I’m sure you’ll want to change into something other than a uniform?”
Derek nodded as he escorted Viradia into the junior wing of the apartment. He keyed open the door to the guest suite - it was largely identical to the one that Derek occupied. Viradia walked around the living room, and stretched her long arms towards the high ceiling.
“So, this is all just for me?”
“For the time being, yes it is. There’s a replicator station in your bedroom, if you need anything.”
Viradia was still stretching her fingers skyward. “I can just about touch the ceiling in my quarters. This is amazing.”
“Well, we can’t all be as tall as you, V. Wait until you meet our new XO - I think we might have to take out the next deck above his quarters.”
Viradia laughed lightly. “Ah right - he’s over two meters tall, isn’t he? We might need to have spacedock raise Kersare’s chair.”
“Hah - I’m sure she’ll definitely sign off on that. Well, I’ll leave you to get settled in. My dad’s going to make something for lunch when you’re ready. You can meet the rest of the family, too.”
=^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^=
<<Tournneau Residence -- 1715 Hours>>
Derek was almost done changing into the suit he would wear at the service. It was a high-collared black gabardine tunic with white trim, and matching black trousers with white trim around the cuffs and down the legs. A knock came at the door.
“Come in,” Derek said. His brother, John (PNPC) came in. He was dressed similarly, in a modern grey suit.
“Hey Derek, are you almost ready to go?”
“Yes, John, just getting buttoned up.”
“Ah, good. Hey, just wanted to tell you D, Viradia’s just been great.”
“Oh yeah?”
“She and mom have really hit it off,” John said. “Mom’s helping her find something to wear. They’ve been chatting ever since lunch, really.”
“Oh, great,” Derek said as he rolled his eyes. “My mother and my best friend - now no secret is safe.”
John chuckled. “You’re screwed, buddy. But seriously, I’m glad that you brought her today. And - I’m glad to see you with someone -”
“Now John, I’m not with - “
“Yeah, I know. Look, either way, I’m glad is all.”
OFF
END OF PART ONE
PART TWO BELOW
Lieutenant Viradia Beladd (PNPC)
Assistant Chief Engineering Officer,
USS Malinche, NCC-38997-A
Rachel Tournneau (PNPC)
President,
Tournneau Trading Co.
John Tournneau (PNPC)
Chief Engineer,
Tournneau Astromech Industries
ON:
<<Officer’s Dormitories, Starfleet Headquarters, San Francisco, Earth -- Shoreleave Day 04 -- 1015 Hours>>
Typical….
Derek mentally rolled his eyes as Viradia (PNPC) was scrambling about her suite, throwing items into a suitcase. “You know, you’re only going to be gone a day or two. And if you forget something, we do have these really cool things called ‘replicators.’”
“Yes, Derek, I know - I’m almost done. There!” Viradia said triumphantly as she threw a smattering of cosmetics into her bag and shut it.
Derek noticed a large orange stripe had been painted on the side of the suitcase. Well, that’s not going to happen again. “Shall we?”
“Lead the way, Commander,” Viradia said.
Once they reached the ground floor, the two set off for the transport pad on the East Lawn of the headquarters. “So, have you ever been to Seattle before?” Derek asked Viradia.
“No, actually - I’ve been further north, to Alaska before, but never there. Weather looks to be a bit colder, a bit rainier than here.”
“Yes, outsiders often find it to be ‘dreary’ or ‘depressing’. I’ve always liked grey weather - I find that in the rain against a grey sky, the colors of everything else seem to be more vibrant than in the sunshine.”
“Oh, don’t worry Derek, have you ever been to Bolarus?”
“No.”
“Well,” Viradia continued, “it is very...weather prone…so Seattle will probably seem like nice fall day to me!”
Derek laughed. “Well, that’s good. People either love it or hate it. Ah, here we are.” The pair arrived at the transporter pad and stepped up to the platform. Derek keyed the panel.
“Two to transport - Seattle City Center.”
The computer beeped in response. “Standby...energizing…”
=^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^=
<<Tournneau Residence -- 1040 Hours>>
Viradia gazed up at the residential tower in front of her. “Wow - I knew your family had its own shipping company, but I didn’t realize they were doing so well for themselves. You said they had - what - five Antares-class ships?”
Derek smiled a bit sheepishly. “Six, actually. And two Deneva-class, the same as my ship was.”
“Those are pretty heavy ships for a civilian outfit.”
“Well, that’s my Mom for you,” Derek snorted as he opened the exterior door to the building. They both boarded one of the finely trimmed turbolifts in the lobby.
“Tournneau Residence,” Derek ordered. The car purred softly as it ascended the building.
“So...Derek,” Viradia started.
“Yes?”
“I hope this isn’t too personal a question, but if your family is this wealthy, why did you come back to Starfleet? You could be living on your own private island! Your quarters must seem awfully crammed compared to what you have here.”
Derek looked down self-consciously. He knew his family’s material wealth was uncommon, especially in Starfleet circles. It wasn’t something that he was ashamed of - after all, it had proved handy to be rich many times in his life - but it was something that he was still uncomfortable with. “Well,” Derek responded, “I’ve been in space pretty much since I graduated from the Academy; even when I worked for my family. It just seemed like the right thing to do.”
The turbolift arrived in the entry hall of the Tournneau’s apartment. The two officers exited and were welcomed by Derek’s mother, Rachel (PNPC). She was dressed warmly in casual attire, her white hair drawn up in a bun.
“Welcome back, Derek,” Rachel said, and turned her attention to the blue stranger in her apartment. “Ah, and you must be Derek’s friend, Viradia. Welcome to our home.” Rachel smiled and extended her hand gracefully.
Viradia returned the handshake. “Thank you, Mrs. Tournneau - it’s a wonderful apartment that you have here.”
“Thank you - it serves us well,” she said modestly. “Derek, can you please show your friend to the guest room? I’m sure you’ll want to change into something other than a uniform?”
Derek nodded as he escorted Viradia into the junior wing of the apartment. He keyed open the door to the guest suite - it was largely identical to the one that Derek occupied. Viradia walked around the living room, and stretched her long arms towards the high ceiling.
“So, this is all just for me?”
“For the time being, yes it is. There’s a replicator station in your bedroom, if you need anything.”
Viradia was still stretching her fingers skyward. “I can just about touch the ceiling in my quarters. This is amazing.”
“Well, we can’t all be as tall as you, V. Wait until you meet our new XO - I think we might have to take out the next deck above his quarters.”
Viradia laughed lightly. “Ah right - he’s over two meters tall, isn’t he? We might need to have spacedock raise Kersare’s chair.”
“Hah - I’m sure she’ll definitely sign off on that. Well, I’ll leave you to get settled in. My dad’s going to make something for lunch when you’re ready. You can meet the rest of the family, too.”
=^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^=
<<Tournneau Residence -- 1715 Hours>>
Derek was almost done changing into the suit he would wear at the service. It was a high-collared black gabardine tunic with white trim, and matching black trousers with white trim around the cuffs and down the legs. A knock came at the door.
“Come in,” Derek said. His brother, John (PNPC) came in. He was dressed similarly, in a modern grey suit.
“Hey Derek, are you almost ready to go?”
“Yes, John, just getting buttoned up.”
“Ah, good. Hey, just wanted to tell you D, Viradia’s just been great.”
“Oh yeah?”
“She and mom have really hit it off,” John said. “Mom’s helping her find something to wear. They’ve been chatting ever since lunch, really.”
“Oh, great,” Derek said as he rolled his eyes. “My mother and my best friend - now no secret is safe.”
John chuckled. “You’re screwed, buddy. But seriously, I’m glad that you brought her today. And - I’m glad to see you with someone -”
“Now John, I’m not with - “
“Yeah, I know. Look, either way, I’m glad is all.”
OFF
END OF PART ONE
PART TWO BELOW
Lieutenant Viradia Beladd (PNPC)
Assistant Chief Engineering Officer,
USS Malinche, NCC-38997-A
Rachel Tournneau (PNPC)
President,
Tournneau Trading Co.
John Tournneau (PNPC)
Chief Engineer,
Tournneau Astromech Industries
Last edited by Tournneau on Sat Feb 17, 2018 8:49 pm, edited 2 times in total.
Reason: Decolorized text
Reason: Decolorized text
Lieutenant Commander Derek Tournneau
Chief Engineering Officer
USS Malinche NCC-38997-A
Re: Mission 23 - Back For More
OFF:
BEGINNING OF PART TWO
PART ONE ABOVE
<<Tournneau Residence -- Kerry Park, Seattle, Earth -- Shoreleave Day 04 -- 1720 Hours>>
Derek and John came out of the main hallway and into the foyer where the other family members were waiting for them. Viradia was with them as well. She turned to Derek and smiled as he walked in. She was wearing an elegant, black tea-length dress with an asymmetrical ruche pattern to the right side. It had a square top and mid length sleeves. A small, black beret covered her bare head.
John nudged Derek lightly. “Oh - ah, are we all set then?” Derek asked the room.
“We’re just waiting for you, son,” his father Andres (PNPC) answered. “All right, everyone - let’s head over to the shuttlebay.”
They all fell into file behind Mr. Tournneau. Viradia walked next to Derek at the back. “Derek,” Viradia whispered down at him as they walked, “your family has a shuttlebay in their house.”
“Yes, I know that,” Derek whispered back.
“Umm, Derek, I think your mom might be an arch-villain. I’d be careful.”
“Shut up!” Although, that does bring up a good point, Derek thought.
As they walked into the shuttlebay, the window wall on the far side retraced upwards, opening the bay to the cool air outside. The bay was just large enough for the Type-11 shuttle that resided there, bedecked in the Tournneau Company’s signature navy blue livery with gold trim. The name plate on the shuttle read Borealis.
As they stepped into the shuttle’s rear compartment, Derek asked his father, “So, why are we taking a shuttle? Surely it’s somewhere close enough to take something less...spaceworthy?”
“You’ll see,” his father said as he stepped through the inner door to the cockpit. John shrugged at Derek, and joined his father while the rest of the party stayed in the rear compartment. As a civilian model designed to ferry wealthy prospective clients around, the rear compartment was furnished with plush, blue velvet seats, and large side and rear windows that stretched from floor to ceiling.
The shuttle fired up its thrusters and began to levitate off the deck. With a gentle thrum, it moved swiftly from its perch near the top of the building and out into the prevailing traffic pattern. The shuttle then came about in an easterly direction and began to break for orbit.
Derek glanced over at his mother quizzically, but she just gave him an expectant look. Then, she pointed at something in the distance. “That’s where we’re going,” she said.
Derek looked out of the viewport as the shuttle raced out of the atmosphere. A bright spot on the horizon was growing larger. After several minutes, the spot grew in size, and the claws of a drydock facility began to take shape. It was holding a rather large vessel, but Derek couldn’t yet make out the type from this distance.
He frowned and turned to his mother again. “I don’t understand - are we going to a different system? I’ll need to get clearance to travel if we are.”
“No, that won’t be necessary - look now.” The shuttle slowed to match the velocity of the orbital platform as it came into final approach range. Derek stood and pressed against the window as the ship in the drydock came into view.
“There’s no way…” he trailed off as he took in what he was seeing. His mother came and stood behind him, placing a hand on his shoulder.
The ship was a large Centaur-class vessel, also painted in the Company’s navy blue livery with gold trim. The new paintwork gleamed in the sunlight. The ship had been retrofitted to connect to a container chain that could be towed between the two large Excelsior-line nacelles.
The shuttle came about to berth to the underside of the drydock, above the ship. As the ship’s saucer passed below the shuttle, its registry became visible, printed in large golden letters that stood out against the blue hull.
SS Srivastava
NGL-42076
Anaya….
Derek’s sister, too, came up behind Derek. He turned to her. “So this is why the Company hasn’t built up fleet numbers lately - you’ve been working on this.”
Adelaide was misty-eyed but smiling. “That’s right - she’s going to be the new flagship for the company.”
The shuttle experienced a small bump as the shuttle’s hatchway sealed against the drydock facility. Derek continued, “How did you - I mean, it’s a cruiser!” While it wasn’t unheard of for civilians to operate larger starships, it was certainly unusual.
Derek’s father and brother came into the compartment from the cockpit. Andres answered Derek, “Well, she started life as the USS Boston at the start of the Dominion War. They pieced these Centaur-class ships together from older lines that had already been developed. A few years after the war ended, the Boston was mothballed. It took some - persuading - but eventually Starfleet gave us a lease to retrofit and operate the ship.”
The party exited the shuttle as Andres continued talking to Derek. “She’s been demilitarized and optimized for our purposes - mostly cargo spaces on the interior, greater automation, and the like. We’ve been working on her for two years now - and the timing ended up right on schedule for today.” They came around the corner, and into the main service bay of the drydock.
The bay was enormous in its own right, probably large enough to house half of the saucer section of the ship it was servicing. The entire front section of the bay would be open to the vacuum of space but for a forcefield that held the atmosphere in place. The Srivastava’s hull filled the view, and was no more than fifty meters from the bay opening.
Usually, the bay would be littered with machinery and bustling with technicians. Today, however, its deck was clear and was a spotless white from bulkhead to bulkhead. In the place of equipment, there were about three hundred people of various races clustered in the center of the massive room, and a small dais stood at the front of the bay near the forcefield. The Tournneaus and Viradia took their places at the front of the audience, the elder Tournneaus greeting those they encountered on their path. Viradia smiled politely at those in attendance, but felt a bit uncomfortable with making an entrance.
Andres stepped up to the dais and addressed the audience. “Dear friends, thank you for joining us on this day of remembrance and celebration, as we honor our fallen colleague, Captain Anaya Srivastava. We have held this day in reserve since the untimely loss of Captain Srivastava and her crew; but we are especially esteemed to have in attendance today her husband, and our son, Derek.” Andres gestured towards his son, and the audience gave a patter of polite applause before Andres continued.
“We don’t normally have this many people join us on this day, but as you can see -” Andres said as he gestured behind him, “today is a bit different!” The audience chuckled briefly. “How can I describe Anaya to those of you that did not know her……….”
=^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^=
“...........and finally, I would like Anaya’s husband, Derek, to come and say a few words.”
With all that had just happened in the past hour, Derek had completely forgotten that his father had asked him to say something today. He did have some things prepared, but he was under the impression that it was going to be a much, much smaller affair. He straightened his tunic and stepped up to the podium next to his father.
“Thank you, Dad. I have to tell you all, I did not know that I would be standing here before all of you, in front of a ship bearing the name of Anaya. I’ll be brief.
“I will always remember the sacrifice that Anaya made for all of us that survived the Impetuous to be here today. I can see some familiar faces out there, and I’m glad that you’re here. At the beginning, the loss was impossible to bear. It nearly broke me. But, in the end I knew that there was nothing that we could have done to prevent what had happened - in fact, it’s only through Anaya and the bridge crew’s actions that any of us were able to escape. She gave us the gift of continued life, and it’s our duty to use that gift to its fullest potential.
“And now, here we are, able to return the favor by dedicating this ship in her honor.” Derek turned to his father as he noticed him move. Andres was holding a bottle of Dom Perignon. He held it forwards towards Derek.
“I think you should have the honor, son,” Andres said softly. “It’s a 2335 - the same vintage as Anaya.”
Derek carefully took the bottle in his hands. He turned to the audience and saw his family standing in the front. His sister was visibly crying at this point, but gave him a firm nod of assurance. Viradia’s face was troubled, but she, too, gave a small nod. I didn’t expect to be the ship’s godfather, Derek thought. Well, here goes...this one’s for you, Anaya.
“I name this ship the SS Srivastava,” he called out in a loud voice. He tried to think of something quickly to say for the blessing. “May her days be peaceful, and may her journeys be a touchstone to the legacy of her namesake.” He then swung the bottle by the neck with both hands and cast it towards the forcefield. The bottle flew across the few meters of deck before entering open space. It spun gracefully in the vacuum until it met its target, shattering into a thousand pieces of glass as a fine mist of champagne showered the registry number on the hull. The audience burst into applause as Derek and Andres embraced one another.
=^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^=
<<SS Srivastava -- Bridge -- 1900 Hours>>
After the christening ceremony was over, the guests began taking tours of the newest ship in the Tournneau fleet. Many were familiar faces to Derek - some of Anaya’s family, old crewmates, long-time business contacts of the family. It was nice seeing them, but there was so much to take in from the day’s events. He was finally able to be alone, and found himself standing on the bridge of the ship. He was casually walking from station to station, and entered the ship’s observation lounge.
The table where future trade negotiations would take place occupied the center of the darkened space, its curved oblong shape mirroring that of the room. On the center panel of the inward wall, a large brass slab hung, illuminated by a single spotlight in the ceiling. On it, a portrait of Anaya had been etched. It was taken from the same holoimage that Derek kept on his nightstand.
It was taken from the day that she had become the captain of the Impetuous. She was standing in front of her new ship in drydock, facing the ship. In the moment that was captured in the portrait, she wore a proud look on her face, seeming to gaze into the beyond.
The door to the lounge hissed open. Derek, startled out of his thoughts, quickly wiped away the tear forming in his eye and turned to see Viradia entering the room gingerly.
“I hope I’m not interrupting you, Derek,” Viradia asked, “but I feel a bit out of place with the rest of the guests. I lost you when we were in the engineering compartment.”
How stupidly selfish of me - I asked her here after all. Derek grimaced with chagrin. “I’m really sorry, V - I just wanted to get away from the crowd. I completely forgot about you.”
“No, Derek - please. You’ve been really strong today. I’m just...oh wow…” Viradia trailed off as she came to stand next to Derek in front of the brass portrait. “She’s beautiful.”
“That she is.”
“You must really miss her.”
“I do - sometimes, days like today, it can feel like it was yesterday.”
“I’m so sorry -- “
“But,” Derek interrupted, his voice quavering now, “I’m glad that I have you.” He looked up at the taller woman’s face. She smiled at him, her cheeks quivering as her eyes began to water.
They stood silently, returning their gaze to the portrait. Viradia’s hand found Derek’s and held it firmly. Derek squeezed it in response. He stepped sideways and rested his head on her shoulder, and wept.
OFF
Lieutenant Viradia Beladd (PNPC)
Assistant Chief Engineering Officer,
USS Malinche, NCC-38997-A
Adelaide Tournneau (PNPC)
Chief Financial Officer,
Tournneau Trading Co.
Rachel Tournneau (PNPC)
President,
Tournneau Trading Co.
Andres Tournneau (PNPC)
Director,
Earth Climate Control, North/Central America
John Tournneau (PNPC)
Chief Engineer,
Tournneau Astromech Industries
and
BEGINNING OF PART TWO
PART ONE ABOVE
<<Tournneau Residence -- Kerry Park, Seattle, Earth -- Shoreleave Day 04 -- 1720 Hours>>
Derek and John came out of the main hallway and into the foyer where the other family members were waiting for them. Viradia was with them as well. She turned to Derek and smiled as he walked in. She was wearing an elegant, black tea-length dress with an asymmetrical ruche pattern to the right side. It had a square top and mid length sleeves. A small, black beret covered her bare head.
John nudged Derek lightly. “Oh - ah, are we all set then?” Derek asked the room.
“We’re just waiting for you, son,” his father Andres (PNPC) answered. “All right, everyone - let’s head over to the shuttlebay.”
They all fell into file behind Mr. Tournneau. Viradia walked next to Derek at the back. “Derek,” Viradia whispered down at him as they walked, “your family has a shuttlebay in their house.”
“Yes, I know that,” Derek whispered back.
“Umm, Derek, I think your mom might be an arch-villain. I’d be careful.”
“Shut up!” Although, that does bring up a good point, Derek thought.
As they walked into the shuttlebay, the window wall on the far side retraced upwards, opening the bay to the cool air outside. The bay was just large enough for the Type-11 shuttle that resided there, bedecked in the Tournneau Company’s signature navy blue livery with gold trim. The name plate on the shuttle read Borealis.
As they stepped into the shuttle’s rear compartment, Derek asked his father, “So, why are we taking a shuttle? Surely it’s somewhere close enough to take something less...spaceworthy?”
“You’ll see,” his father said as he stepped through the inner door to the cockpit. John shrugged at Derek, and joined his father while the rest of the party stayed in the rear compartment. As a civilian model designed to ferry wealthy prospective clients around, the rear compartment was furnished with plush, blue velvet seats, and large side and rear windows that stretched from floor to ceiling.
The shuttle fired up its thrusters and began to levitate off the deck. With a gentle thrum, it moved swiftly from its perch near the top of the building and out into the prevailing traffic pattern. The shuttle then came about in an easterly direction and began to break for orbit.
Derek glanced over at his mother quizzically, but she just gave him an expectant look. Then, she pointed at something in the distance. “That’s where we’re going,” she said.
Derek looked out of the viewport as the shuttle raced out of the atmosphere. A bright spot on the horizon was growing larger. After several minutes, the spot grew in size, and the claws of a drydock facility began to take shape. It was holding a rather large vessel, but Derek couldn’t yet make out the type from this distance.
He frowned and turned to his mother again. “I don’t understand - are we going to a different system? I’ll need to get clearance to travel if we are.”
“No, that won’t be necessary - look now.” The shuttle slowed to match the velocity of the orbital platform as it came into final approach range. Derek stood and pressed against the window as the ship in the drydock came into view.
“There’s no way…” he trailed off as he took in what he was seeing. His mother came and stood behind him, placing a hand on his shoulder.
The ship was a large Centaur-class vessel, also painted in the Company’s navy blue livery with gold trim. The new paintwork gleamed in the sunlight. The ship had been retrofitted to connect to a container chain that could be towed between the two large Excelsior-line nacelles.
The shuttle came about to berth to the underside of the drydock, above the ship. As the ship’s saucer passed below the shuttle, its registry became visible, printed in large golden letters that stood out against the blue hull.
SS Srivastava
NGL-42076
Anaya….
Derek’s sister, too, came up behind Derek. He turned to her. “So this is why the Company hasn’t built up fleet numbers lately - you’ve been working on this.”
Adelaide was misty-eyed but smiling. “That’s right - she’s going to be the new flagship for the company.”
The shuttle experienced a small bump as the shuttle’s hatchway sealed against the drydock facility. Derek continued, “How did you - I mean, it’s a cruiser!” While it wasn’t unheard of for civilians to operate larger starships, it was certainly unusual.
Derek’s father and brother came into the compartment from the cockpit. Andres answered Derek, “Well, she started life as the USS Boston at the start of the Dominion War. They pieced these Centaur-class ships together from older lines that had already been developed. A few years after the war ended, the Boston was mothballed. It took some - persuading - but eventually Starfleet gave us a lease to retrofit and operate the ship.”
The party exited the shuttle as Andres continued talking to Derek. “She’s been demilitarized and optimized for our purposes - mostly cargo spaces on the interior, greater automation, and the like. We’ve been working on her for two years now - and the timing ended up right on schedule for today.” They came around the corner, and into the main service bay of the drydock.
The bay was enormous in its own right, probably large enough to house half of the saucer section of the ship it was servicing. The entire front section of the bay would be open to the vacuum of space but for a forcefield that held the atmosphere in place. The Srivastava’s hull filled the view, and was no more than fifty meters from the bay opening.
Usually, the bay would be littered with machinery and bustling with technicians. Today, however, its deck was clear and was a spotless white from bulkhead to bulkhead. In the place of equipment, there were about three hundred people of various races clustered in the center of the massive room, and a small dais stood at the front of the bay near the forcefield. The Tournneaus and Viradia took their places at the front of the audience, the elder Tournneaus greeting those they encountered on their path. Viradia smiled politely at those in attendance, but felt a bit uncomfortable with making an entrance.
Andres stepped up to the dais and addressed the audience. “Dear friends, thank you for joining us on this day of remembrance and celebration, as we honor our fallen colleague, Captain Anaya Srivastava. We have held this day in reserve since the untimely loss of Captain Srivastava and her crew; but we are especially esteemed to have in attendance today her husband, and our son, Derek.” Andres gestured towards his son, and the audience gave a patter of polite applause before Andres continued.
“We don’t normally have this many people join us on this day, but as you can see -” Andres said as he gestured behind him, “today is a bit different!” The audience chuckled briefly. “How can I describe Anaya to those of you that did not know her……….”
=^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^=
“...........and finally, I would like Anaya’s husband, Derek, to come and say a few words.”
With all that had just happened in the past hour, Derek had completely forgotten that his father had asked him to say something today. He did have some things prepared, but he was under the impression that it was going to be a much, much smaller affair. He straightened his tunic and stepped up to the podium next to his father.
“Thank you, Dad. I have to tell you all, I did not know that I would be standing here before all of you, in front of a ship bearing the name of Anaya. I’ll be brief.
“I will always remember the sacrifice that Anaya made for all of us that survived the Impetuous to be here today. I can see some familiar faces out there, and I’m glad that you’re here. At the beginning, the loss was impossible to bear. It nearly broke me. But, in the end I knew that there was nothing that we could have done to prevent what had happened - in fact, it’s only through Anaya and the bridge crew’s actions that any of us were able to escape. She gave us the gift of continued life, and it’s our duty to use that gift to its fullest potential.
“And now, here we are, able to return the favor by dedicating this ship in her honor.” Derek turned to his father as he noticed him move. Andres was holding a bottle of Dom Perignon. He held it forwards towards Derek.
“I think you should have the honor, son,” Andres said softly. “It’s a 2335 - the same vintage as Anaya.”
Derek carefully took the bottle in his hands. He turned to the audience and saw his family standing in the front. His sister was visibly crying at this point, but gave him a firm nod of assurance. Viradia’s face was troubled, but she, too, gave a small nod. I didn’t expect to be the ship’s godfather, Derek thought. Well, here goes...this one’s for you, Anaya.
“I name this ship the SS Srivastava,” he called out in a loud voice. He tried to think of something quickly to say for the blessing. “May her days be peaceful, and may her journeys be a touchstone to the legacy of her namesake.” He then swung the bottle by the neck with both hands and cast it towards the forcefield. The bottle flew across the few meters of deck before entering open space. It spun gracefully in the vacuum until it met its target, shattering into a thousand pieces of glass as a fine mist of champagne showered the registry number on the hull. The audience burst into applause as Derek and Andres embraced one another.
=^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^=
<<SS Srivastava -- Bridge -- 1900 Hours>>
After the christening ceremony was over, the guests began taking tours of the newest ship in the Tournneau fleet. Many were familiar faces to Derek - some of Anaya’s family, old crewmates, long-time business contacts of the family. It was nice seeing them, but there was so much to take in from the day’s events. He was finally able to be alone, and found himself standing on the bridge of the ship. He was casually walking from station to station, and entered the ship’s observation lounge.
The table where future trade negotiations would take place occupied the center of the darkened space, its curved oblong shape mirroring that of the room. On the center panel of the inward wall, a large brass slab hung, illuminated by a single spotlight in the ceiling. On it, a portrait of Anaya had been etched. It was taken from the same holoimage that Derek kept on his nightstand.
It was taken from the day that she had become the captain of the Impetuous. She was standing in front of her new ship in drydock, facing the ship. In the moment that was captured in the portrait, she wore a proud look on her face, seeming to gaze into the beyond.
The door to the lounge hissed open. Derek, startled out of his thoughts, quickly wiped away the tear forming in his eye and turned to see Viradia entering the room gingerly.
“I hope I’m not interrupting you, Derek,” Viradia asked, “but I feel a bit out of place with the rest of the guests. I lost you when we were in the engineering compartment.”
How stupidly selfish of me - I asked her here after all. Derek grimaced with chagrin. “I’m really sorry, V - I just wanted to get away from the crowd. I completely forgot about you.”
“No, Derek - please. You’ve been really strong today. I’m just...oh wow…” Viradia trailed off as she came to stand next to Derek in front of the brass portrait. “She’s beautiful.”
“That she is.”
“You must really miss her.”
“I do - sometimes, days like today, it can feel like it was yesterday.”
“I’m so sorry -- “
“But,” Derek interrupted, his voice quavering now, “I’m glad that I have you.” He looked up at the taller woman’s face. She smiled at him, her cheeks quivering as her eyes began to water.
They stood silently, returning their gaze to the portrait. Viradia’s hand found Derek’s and held it firmly. Derek squeezed it in response. He stepped sideways and rested his head on her shoulder, and wept.
OFF
Lieutenant Viradia Beladd (PNPC)
Assistant Chief Engineering Officer,
USS Malinche, NCC-38997-A
Adelaide Tournneau (PNPC)
Chief Financial Officer,
Tournneau Trading Co.
Rachel Tournneau (PNPC)
President,
Tournneau Trading Co.
Andres Tournneau (PNPC)
Director,
Earth Climate Control, North/Central America
John Tournneau (PNPC)
Chief Engineer,
Tournneau Astromech Industries
and
Last edited by Tournneau on Sat Feb 17, 2018 8:50 pm, edited 1 time in total.
Reason: Decolorized text
Reason: Decolorized text
Lieutenant Commander Derek Tournneau
Chief Engineering Officer
USS Malinche NCC-38997-A
Re: Mission 23 - Back For More
[[San Francisco, Earth - 2108 - Day 3]]
"Hey."
Kinkaid looked up from the PADD he'd been reading. A smile, and he greeted his sister. "Hey." Despite nearly fifteen years between them the two were clearly related, though where his hair was cut short hers was long with only a few strands of grey to hint at her age. She was grinning as she slid into the seat across from him.
"Didn't think I'd get to see you before you left." She leaned in and kissed him on the cheek. "I was glad to get your call."
Cade nodded. "Good to see you too. I'm sorry I couldn't get away earlier."
"I understand. Noe?" Angela held up a hand, calling a server. He nodded, running a hand through his hair in a motion of silent despair. Close as he and his older sister had become, his relationship with his younger sister, Noelle, had remained strained since they were children. "That good, huh?"
"We both try. It's just..." Douglas sighed, shaking his head. "It's difficult." A young Asian woman arrived to take their order. Only when she was headed for the kitchen did he continue. "Her husband is a nice guy."
"He's at Utopia Planitia?"
Cade nodded. "Working on some sort of mathematical theory. He tried to explain it, but it was beyond me. He's great with Senda though." A second waitress arrived, this one bearing hot tea. She poured for the two of them, bowed, and departed.
"How is my niece?" Angela asked over the rim of her cup. "She's, what, twelve months now?"
"Thirteen next week," Douglas corrected. "And getting big."
Angela shook her head in disbelief. "And the pregnancy? Were there any issues?"
"No. They had a boy." Cade grinned broadly. He'd missed the birth of his niece, but the birth of his new nephew had been another matter entirely. He wasn't generally one to believe in miracles, but had he been so-inclined... "They named him John." Angela nodded at that but offered no verbal response.
The two were silent for several minutes, each watching the restaurant in the direction they could see. The place was busy. He recognized a few faces from the Academy though he could place to only one. Nodding in the direction of a dark-skinned young man in an academy uniform Cade said, "That's Alexander Mbangwe." His sister turned to look. The man must have heard his name because he turned toward them and, spotting Cade, grinned and held up a hand. Douglas did likewise. "He's on the archery team. Training to be a doctor." The lieutenant motioned for the student to join them. When he arrived Douglas and Angela both stood. "Alexander, this is my sister Angela. Angie, Alexander Mbangwe."
"Ma'am." The man's response was hesitant, as if unsure how to greet her. "A pleasure to meet you." He spoke with an accent that seemed to create hard edges where they were none.
"We're off duty, Mr. Mbangwe." Angela smiled. "Just call me Angela."
That seemed to relax the cadet, who nodded. "Nice to meet you, Angela." He turned to Cade. "You mentioned this place the other day. I thought I'd give it a try." He indicated the table at which he'd been sitting. The other three people at the table, all wearing student uniforms, were looking in their direction. "I brought some mates from the academy. You're right. The food is excellent."
Cade bobbed his head at the acknowledgement as he reseated himself. "Glad you like it, Alexander." He glanced back at the other table. "I just wanted to introduce you to my sister. I'll let you get back to your dinner." The doctor straightened respectfully before returning to his companions. Cade turned back to Angela. "Skilled archer, but he's not very sure of himself as a doctor from what I understand." He could empathize; once he, too, had been unsure of himself in his chosen field.
They sank into a comfortable silence once more. This time neither spoke until their food had arrived. It was Angela who broke the silence. "The Malinche?"
Cade nodded, pausing with the soup spoon part-way to his lips. It smelled wonderful. "Know anything about her?" He was quiet as he put the soup in his mouth.
Angie shook her head. "Not really. I met their chief engineer years ago, though I doubt he'd remember. He was a cadet at the time. I can't imagine I made much of an impression." the woman smirked. "Exo's a Klingon." She ate her own soup noisily, slurping it down with more noise than was strictly necessary.
"I read that." Cade indicated the PADD he'd been reading. It contained a crew manifest as well as various non-sensitive documentation about his new home. "I've never served under a Klingon. You?"
She shook her head again. "They're not really," she hesitated, "inclined to enter my field. I've known a few who did, but they generally don't stick around here." She slurped more soup. "This is going to be a big change for you, isn't it? Ops for a Prometheus?"
Douglas shrugged. "I guess. The size won't be a problem - it looks like 8013 had roughly the same number of systems, albeit in different places - but it will definitely be different. The Hernandez and London were both older, and the Sage was about the same age but much, much smaller."
"You weren't Ops on the Hernandez, Kinky."
Only Angela called him Kinky. He frowned, though not at the nickname. Rather, in mock hurt. "I was acting Chief for half a year."
"Acting," she repeated, a superior smile on her face. "That 'acting' makes a lot of difference." She laughed. Douglas reached out to smack her head but she dodged his half-hearted blow. "Hey, it's not my fault! Starfleet regulations, doncha know." Her grin broadened.
"Hey."
Kinkaid looked up from the PADD he'd been reading. A smile, and he greeted his sister. "Hey." Despite nearly fifteen years between them the two were clearly related, though where his hair was cut short hers was long with only a few strands of grey to hint at her age. She was grinning as she slid into the seat across from him.
"Didn't think I'd get to see you before you left." She leaned in and kissed him on the cheek. "I was glad to get your call."
Cade nodded. "Good to see you too. I'm sorry I couldn't get away earlier."
"I understand. Noe?" Angela held up a hand, calling a server. He nodded, running a hand through his hair in a motion of silent despair. Close as he and his older sister had become, his relationship with his younger sister, Noelle, had remained strained since they were children. "That good, huh?"
"We both try. It's just..." Douglas sighed, shaking his head. "It's difficult." A young Asian woman arrived to take their order. Only when she was headed for the kitchen did he continue. "Her husband is a nice guy."
"He's at Utopia Planitia?"
Cade nodded. "Working on some sort of mathematical theory. He tried to explain it, but it was beyond me. He's great with Senda though." A second waitress arrived, this one bearing hot tea. She poured for the two of them, bowed, and departed.
"How is my niece?" Angela asked over the rim of her cup. "She's, what, twelve months now?"
"Thirteen next week," Douglas corrected. "And getting big."
Angela shook her head in disbelief. "And the pregnancy? Were there any issues?"
"No. They had a boy." Cade grinned broadly. He'd missed the birth of his niece, but the birth of his new nephew had been another matter entirely. He wasn't generally one to believe in miracles, but had he been so-inclined... "They named him John." Angela nodded at that but offered no verbal response.
The two were silent for several minutes, each watching the restaurant in the direction they could see. The place was busy. He recognized a few faces from the Academy though he could place to only one. Nodding in the direction of a dark-skinned young man in an academy uniform Cade said, "That's Alexander Mbangwe." His sister turned to look. The man must have heard his name because he turned toward them and, spotting Cade, grinned and held up a hand. Douglas did likewise. "He's on the archery team. Training to be a doctor." The lieutenant motioned for the student to join them. When he arrived Douglas and Angela both stood. "Alexander, this is my sister Angela. Angie, Alexander Mbangwe."
"Ma'am." The man's response was hesitant, as if unsure how to greet her. "A pleasure to meet you." He spoke with an accent that seemed to create hard edges where they were none.
"We're off duty, Mr. Mbangwe." Angela smiled. "Just call me Angela."
That seemed to relax the cadet, who nodded. "Nice to meet you, Angela." He turned to Cade. "You mentioned this place the other day. I thought I'd give it a try." He indicated the table at which he'd been sitting. The other three people at the table, all wearing student uniforms, were looking in their direction. "I brought some mates from the academy. You're right. The food is excellent."
Cade bobbed his head at the acknowledgement as he reseated himself. "Glad you like it, Alexander." He glanced back at the other table. "I just wanted to introduce you to my sister. I'll let you get back to your dinner." The doctor straightened respectfully before returning to his companions. Cade turned back to Angela. "Skilled archer, but he's not very sure of himself as a doctor from what I understand." He could empathize; once he, too, had been unsure of himself in his chosen field.
They sank into a comfortable silence once more. This time neither spoke until their food had arrived. It was Angela who broke the silence. "The Malinche?"
Cade nodded, pausing with the soup spoon part-way to his lips. It smelled wonderful. "Know anything about her?" He was quiet as he put the soup in his mouth.
Angie shook her head. "Not really. I met their chief engineer years ago, though I doubt he'd remember. He was a cadet at the time. I can't imagine I made much of an impression." the woman smirked. "Exo's a Klingon." She ate her own soup noisily, slurping it down with more noise than was strictly necessary.
"I read that." Cade indicated the PADD he'd been reading. It contained a crew manifest as well as various non-sensitive documentation about his new home. "I've never served under a Klingon. You?"
She shook her head again. "They're not really," she hesitated, "inclined to enter my field. I've known a few who did, but they generally don't stick around here." She slurped more soup. "This is going to be a big change for you, isn't it? Ops for a Prometheus?"
Douglas shrugged. "I guess. The size won't be a problem - it looks like 8013 had roughly the same number of systems, albeit in different places - but it will definitely be different. The Hernandez and London were both older, and the Sage was about the same age but much, much smaller."
"You weren't Ops on the Hernandez, Kinky."
Only Angela called him Kinky. He frowned, though not at the nickname. Rather, in mock hurt. "I was acting Chief for half a year."
"Acting," she repeated, a superior smile on her face. "That 'acting' makes a lot of difference." She laughed. Douglas reached out to smack her head but she dodged his half-hearted blow. "Hey, it's not my fault! Starfleet regulations, doncha know." Her grin broadened.
Lieutenant Douglas "Cade" Kinkaid
Chief Operations Officer
USS Malinche NCC-38997-A