New beginnings
Posted on 01 Nov 2023 @ 7:35pm by Captain Ricardo (Rico) Montoya & Lieutenant Heather Fischer-Montoya & Crewman Sizia Sh'velihr
1,369 words; about a 7 minute read
Mission:
M-18 The Past is Future
Location: Officer's Lounge
Rico sat alone in the dark of the lounge sipping a bourbon as he puffed on one of his cigars, something he only did every few months or so. It had been some time since he had taken command and once again, they sat parked at a space station instead of being out doing what they were meant to. While the Phoenix sat moored to its berth, those he knew on Deep Space 5 were fighting and dying to retake their home from the Cardassians.
He had a Prometheus class starship at his command, Deep Space 5 was his ship's home port, and here he was twiddling his thumbs while it was frustrating as hell. But the power that be had decided to have Phoenix hear in case the Breen decided to intervene, with only a skeleton crew. With the current efforts to retake DS5 his senior officers had been reassigned to either those operations or to back fill those pulled from their regular duties for the DS5 missions. At least his ship hadn't been the only one stripped of critical crewmembers, there were seven other starships docked in a similar situation. Only the Phoenix's high level of automation kept in an operational status and moved to the head of the line for crew replacements.
With another exasperated exhale the smoke from his cigar jetted out and spread as it hit the window. Picking up his drink he took a sip then slowly rocked the glass spinning the contents, the ice clinking as he watched the traffic come and go...while he sat there.
"Of all the gin joints in all the world, you had to walk into mine," said a woman's voice, warm with amusement.
Rico turned in his chair to see the one person that could always put a smile on his face. He sat there admiring her as she walked over, returning her smile. "Well it's a small ship. We were bound to bump into one another eventually." His arm wrapping around her hip as she came to stand next to him.
She saluted him with her Martini glass. "Its a crazy world," she agreed. "Anything can happen."
Looking up at her, as he pulled her close, with a wry smile. "Is that right?"
Heather sighed and let him pull her down onto his lap and nuzzled a soft kiss against his cheek. "Classic movies are lost on you. I can't think why I put up with someone who can't tell his Bogart from his Bergman or his Grant from his Gable."
Stifling a smirk, he egged her on. "Who?"
His wife sighed the sigh of the long-suffering spouse. "If it wasn't a waste of a great Martini, I'd throw this at you, you wretch." She squirmed a bit in his lap so she was at a better angle to kiss him. "How's the brooding going?"
Enjoying the softness of her touch and the sweet scent of her perfume he looked up as she pulled back from the kiss. Smiling up at her, her red hair falling forward framing her face.
All his troubles seemed to melt away, her simple question bettering his mood. "I just hate sitting around waiting...and it just seems we end up spending more time sitting than doing. Besides, if we have to wait I'd much rather be waiting at DS5. At least there you could always get another one of those...outfits from Lasuma's."
"Maybe, after the mission is finished, we could head back there. Maybe find you one of those very tight pairs of pants those dabo boys at that bar all seem to spray on themselves." She fanned herself in an exaggerated fashion. "I'm sure you'd look just as edible."
Shaking his as he laughed. "Not a chance." As punishment for her suggestion, he reached down to pinch then tickle the crease where her leg met her butt.
Heather laughed and smacked his hand away. "Then no more dress for you. What's sauce for the goose is sauce for the gander."
He narrowed his eyes as he smirked. "Ahhh but you take too much pleasure in taunting me with those little outfits of yours to stick to that plan. Besides if by some chance you did manage to stick to that...I could always order you."
Heather pulled back and looked at him. "Oh. Ooohh. That's how it's going to be this time out, is it?" She tweaked his nose. "Are you sure you want to go down that road, Ricardo Montoya. You may not like the results."
Smirking. "Then again...I just might." He laughed pulling her close. "But would I ever do such a thing? Nahhh...There is one thing that has remained a constant over the centuries..." his hand, moving to her neck as his thumb traced her ear, "...NEVER piss of a redhead."
"Wise words. Not to mention my extensive knowledge of ships systems, contacts with some rather angry Klingons, and... I know where you live."
He smirked, thankful for the diversion. "This is true. He pulled her in for a kiss but as their lips met the doors opened and he looked to see a red-eyed Yeoman with a padd approaching nervously.
She sheepishly glanced from the Captain's wife to the Captain himself, hoping she didn't interrupt them too often.
"Excuse me Sir, Ma'am."
"No need for apologies Sizia. What'cha got?"
Handing he Captain the padd she relayed the news. "We've lost Deep Space 5".
Now he knew why the Yeoman's eye were red. He hadn't bothered to read past the word "destroyed", before tossing the padd on the table. His hand rubbed his face and as he pulled it away he spoke to the Yeoman. "Thank you Crewman. Notify me once an official casualty list is available and alert Lieutenant McCaine that she may be busy for a while."
"Yes sir." She didn't wait for anything else and turned to leave wiping her face as she passed through the door.
Heather saw the grim expression on her husband's face. "How lost is lost?" It was a vague term that could cover Starfleet capitulation, to the whole thing being atomized at the whim of an all-powerful intelligence.
He let out a breath. "They blew it up. Seems the Cardassian's went scorched earth and decided that if they couldn't have the station, no one would. There's still fighting in orbit and on the planet, but the station is gone. All those people... I only hope that they had at least some time to evacuate beforehand."
"I'm sure they did. Even if it blows stations like that.... They come apart slowly. I'm sure plenty will have gotten out." Heather tried to be reassuring. Explosions in space were always hard to judge. Good bulkheads, good partitioning, decentralized life-support. They could help extend the window in case of fatal hull breaches. But theory was no comfort in the reality.
His arm around her he stroked arm as he thought. He had been stewing for some time about his crew getting picked apart like some piece of carrion instead of them just assigning the Phoenix as a part of the battle fleet, but it was a pointless now. Command in the infinite wisdom had left them here and he had already started to harass Starfleet Commands Personnel division about getting crew replacements. The though caused a memory flash and a wide grin formed.
"What?"
"Oh I was just thinking about all the personnel issues and remembering how it was a personnel issue that led to us meeting.
"You're deflecting. Stop trying to take a trip down memory lane. If Ds5 has gone, they'll need all hands for search and rescue. We need to get to work."
"Preaching to the choir on that. If it was my decision we'd already be on our way and our crew replacements would be joining us there. Unfortunately, the geniuses at command don't want our help, they want us to babysit the Breen and make sure they don't try to take advantage of the situation or try to jump in and help the Cardassians.
Captain Ricardo Montoya
CO - USS Phoenix
Lieutenant Heather Fischer-Montoya
Operations - USS Phoenix
Crewman Sizia Sh'velihr
Yeoman - USS Phoenix
RSS Feed