Captain's Mess

Posted on 12 Oct 2010 @ 9:58am by Commodore Da`nal of the House of Varal & Captain Derek Longwinter

3,435 words; about a 17 minute read

Mission: M6: Blood of the Innocent
Timeline: MD 3 - 1800

After his meeting with the Major he want to have a candid discussion with his XO. He had looked over the man's record and was very impressed. In his mind there was no need to look any further for a new CO for his Marine detachment, not when an officer of the Captain's character was already aboard.

This also was the perfect opportunity to kick off a new program he wanted to establish. One on one Captain's mess with each member of his crew. It would talk som time to get to everyone but it was a task that he was looking forward to.

Da`nal sat looking over the latest staus reports as he waited on the Captain's arrival.

Only two people really knew who Derek Longwinter was: the captain of the ship and Derek himself. Derek had been reassigned from his last job on the USS Merlin and shuffled onto the USS Achilles amazingly fast, so fast that he really hadn't even been entered into the systems as being an active member. After a very crazy, fast paced and recently hushed up encounter on Starbase Protector that had left the star base in chaos and enough bodies to fill the whole morgue, special operations and Star Fleet intelligence needed to get Derek off the starbase as fast as possible and with the Merlin in dry dock and the crew disbanded, Derek was herded onto the first ship that had marines and told to sit down and keep his mouth shut at least while the spooks in the black ops community cleaned up the mess left in the wake of Derek's one man rampage.

Derek had been completely under the radar since then. Given the temporary job of Marine Executive officer but told not to really executive the duties of his assigned job or really do anything to cause any ripples, Derek had remained in his quarters, settling in and trying to remain invisible, which was surprisingly what he was good at. Having sharpened every blade he had in his arsenal, using the weight room at 0300 in the morning so there was no one there and catching up on a little reading, Derek had kept his mind, body and weapons honed and sharp, a warrior was always ready for war and it made the time go by pretty fast. Derek had been sitting in his reclining chair, that didn't recline much and wasn't very padded but was the only piece of luxury he had other than his very plain looking rack, leaning into what little comfort it offered though his back was straight and his sharp, hawk like emerald eyes were constantly, subconsciously, scanning the very plain and spartan quarters the marine kept when he finally received a message that informed him the captain was waiting for him.

Sighing a little bit, Derek was a lot more comfortable wearing the comfortable fatigues he had been wearing, it was the uniform of a warrior, something that many marines died for every day all across the stars. Stripping down quickly though, Derek was going to go in full dress to report into the Captain, after all this was the first time he would be meeting any member of the crew face to face yet he already felt like he knew many of them, having been a ghost haunting the ship, Derek had done his homework: reading the files of each of his fellow crew and then observing them for at least a day each, to truly try to understand them: Derek just looked like any other random crew member, truly in disguise because of the fact that no one knew just exactly who he was and he made sure he didn't stick around long enough for anyone to get curious just about who he was, though he was sure maybe a few of the more senior members of the ship might have wondered just who he was, since they most likely had been around for a while and thought they knew everyone.

Stripped down to just his underwear, Derek Longwinter stood in front of the human length mirror hanging up in his room and looked at himself in the mirror but only for a fleet second, though his eyes were like usual drawn to the large black tattoo on his left shoulder, the ancient Angosian symbol for bad. Downcasting his eyes in recollection, Derek finally moved over to his closet and unzipped the heavy black bag full of uniforms that he had hanging by a hanger in the closet. Pulling out his dress blues uniform, the marine took a second to check them over for any sort of wrinkles or any stains. They looked prestene, like they had been just taken out of the box. Derek pulled the dress blues trousers out first and smoothly slipped each leg slowly into the perfectly form fitting and tailored dress pants, the customary navy blue with a long red strip of cloth running down the side seam, the blood stripe, a piece of marine tradition dating back almost a thousand years.

Pulling out the dress blues jacket, the Marine slipped each muscular arm into the long sleeves slowly and pulled it up to the front, slowly buttoning each of the golden buttons: each of the well polished brass colored buttons was engraved with the symbol of the Federation Marine Corps. Reaching up to his neck, Derek clipped together the high neck collar of the uniform, supposed to be like the leather neck collars the ancient marines wore to protect for throat slashes in ancient battles, it was the reason marines were called leathernecks and it was just another one of those things. On the collar pinned on each side of it was the insignia of his rank, of Captain, two silver bars adjoined by a thin piece of metal, Derek had been wearing the rank for a long time though he was just honored to be allowed to serve, he wasn't about chasing rank or ribbons.

Just because the marine didn't chase ribbons didn't mean he didn't have any. When Derek Longwinter wore his dress blues, he had enough shiny medals and ribbons that he looked like he wearing a treasure chest. On the left side of Derek's broad chest was his medals, two rows of 4 long, each piece of colored ribbon attached to medal overlapping the neck, so all of the gold medal pieces hanging at the end of the ribbon were close together yet visible, each one different with a different design on the face of the gold medal. On the right side of the jacket was rows of multi-colored ribbons, every ribbon that didn't have a medal associated with it had to be represented as well and were neatly rowed and aligned as well on the uniform, many of them with little bronze colored stars on them. Quickly slipping in front of the mirror for a second and Derek tightened up the belt buckle on the front of the coat, the large golden buckle simuliarly engraved with the symbol of the Star Fleet Marine Corps, Derek made sure his coat was pulled down tight, wrinkle free and his gig line was all adjusted down the front, making sure he looked sharp. Fussing with a ribbon or two to make sure they looked perfect, Derek finally grabbed the large well reknown white peaked cap or barrack cover as marines called it, the SFMC symbol on the front of the high white cap and the black visor adorned in a unique golden design called the quatrefoil, an officer tradition dating all the way back to the 16th century as well. Setting it on his head smoothly, brim first, Derek looked in the mirror and made sure he was good one last time before he grabbed the last piece of his uniform: his medal of honor.

The only medal still worn around the neck to this day, it having been that way since the creation of the medal, it was the highest single honor anyone in Star fleet: marine corps or regular fleet, could ever receive. Usually given to those who gave there lives valiantly in the way that saved many lives, it was rare to meet anyone who was living with one. In a polish, all solid oak box sitting in his closet, the medal was well kept and rested in plush cloth while it was sitting in its case. Slowly opening the box, Derek looked at the items in it: there was a plain solid titanium ring sitting in the plush alongside the medal of honor. On the inside, taped to the inside of the lid were two pictures: the first was an amazingly beautiful woman wearing what looked like some sort of military uniform that wasn't any in star fleet, it looked like she was posing, a bright smile on her beautiful face and a phaser rifle in her hands. The second picture was of a marine, the kind of picture he get when you graduate boot camp, just a very stoic looking marine in his dress blues standing in front of the red and gold colors of the Marine Corps flag. Taking a moment to look at both pictures, Derek finally grabbed the medal and smoothly unfurled the light blue, star covered ribbon lanyard that held the almost bulky looking medal, that had someone with a sword and scales engraved on it, Derek pulled it over his head and set it around his neck to where it barely hung down off his neck: his uniform was now complete and he wasted no more time, stepping out the door of his quarters and into the hallway.

Looking both ways, still not used to the ship or how to get where, Derek already had received a few weird looks from a couple of the marines passing by on the deck, not to mention their salutes: even if Derek wasn't an officer,every member of Star fleet had to salute the medal, it was tradition, no matter of you were a private or the admiral of the whole fleet. Smoothly making his way towards the turbo lift, Derek probably saluted at least fifty marines who all passed him, offering him a salute and strange look: no one knew who he was and it was very strange for someone who had won the medal of honor to just magically appear of no where. Derek really hated how much attention the damn medal brought him but he couldn't not wear it: he didn't wear it out of vanity, he wore it for those who died to really earn it, the people who should have received it, it was in their honor he had to wear it. As the turbo lift gently hummed to life and took him to where he was being summoned to, Derek was happy that the lift was so far empty, really not wanting to answer any questions to who he was, when he arrived or how he got his medal of honor.

As the doors finally opened, Derek smoothly moved towards the Captain's mess. Thankfully there was no one between him and the mess because Derek's saluting arm was getting a little worn out, it was extremely hard to salute in the tight fitting sleeves of the dress blue uniform as it was, not to mention having to do it a hundred times. Stopping right in front of the door to the captain's mess, Derek stopped and looked down at his uniform. Pulling the front down tight and realigning his stack of ribbons again, he took a deep breath as he made sure he looked perfect in his uniform. Finally, pressing the button for the door, it swooshed softly in front of him as Derek moved in: his movements tight and smooth, looking almost like they were drilled as he stepped right up to the table, across from where the Captain was sitting waiting for him. Derek's sharp eyes subconsciously summing up the captain as Derek remained completely emotionless, snapping to a tight attention at the end of the table and bringing his right arm up at a tight 45 degree angle, his hand completely flattened out in a tight,crisp salute, his fingers touching the brim of his cover "Captain Derek Longwinter, Reporting as ordered sir" Derek's tone was clear,concise and slightly monotone as he held his tight salute, perfectly still as a statue.

Da`nal had looked up at the man's entrance, his frist thought was to be sure to let his next guest know that this was an informal event. Second he notice teh Medal of Honor around the man's neck, another confirmation that he had the right man for the job. Standing, his oun uniform jacket draped over the back of his chair he smartly returned the Marines salute. Both men cut their salutes rapidly, knowing that it was a 'Marine thing' to beat the person being saluted as the hand was returned to their side.

"It's an Honor to meet you at last Captain, but I should should have mentioned that this was an informal function. However I am honored you went through all the trouble of putting on the traditional Marine dress uniform."

Cutting his salute crisply, hand coming down to a fist at the right pocket on his trousers, the marine sharply spread his legs apart and set his hands, straight fingers, back behind his back just below the white belt on his jacket, falling into a natural, comfortable parade rest: a sign of respect for the senior officer. Derek had noted the captain was not in his uniform and wasn't close to being in anything official but for Derek,he wasn't going to show up for the first meeting with a new commanding officer in anything less than his best: one because to the right eye, his medals and ribbons told the story of his life in the military and since he was a commander of marines, he was their face, he was the direct representation of not only his marines but the entire Star Fleet Marine Corps and he felt it was his duty....no....his privilage to be, so he could not look anything less than the very best.

"It was no trouble sir, it is an honor for every marine to wear his uniform or should be at least" Derek said the latter with a slight amount of regret in his calm,stoic voice "Sir, I know there is a decent amount of speculation as to what exactly happened on Starbase Protector and I know most of it and what lead up to it is all classified by starfleet intelligence and I want you to know that it won't affect my service on the ship, the spooks over there sent me a message assuring me its all be cleaned up and no record of it will ever exist again, its one of those things that never happened" Derek said resolutely as he remained as parade rest, though his eyes were slightly downcast for a second in contemplation before locking back up and his natural marine bearing kicking back in as he stood before the captain.

"Well I put little stock in hear say and rumor. And it's been my experience that those in Star Fleet Intelligence...well never mind. That a long story and I won't bore you with it."

Motioning to the table, "Sit, relax. As I said this was intended as in informal meeting. I had several differnet dishes prepared, of several styles. Myself I alway like to try new foods, but I do have my favorites. Have you ever had qul DIr?"

Relax, that was something that the Marine was not to, either as an order or just as something he did. Derek, the practically spartan style raised warrior had grown up with no slept, no luxuries and no time to stop moving. As a marine, it didn't change things, always on the move or spending time behind the rifle, laying perfectly still but unable to sleep and then there was the nightmares....but Derek had just got used to it. Derek hadn't hadn't truly relaxed any since....well those times were long past now but the Marine was not the kind of person who would refuse an order so the marine commander slowly pulled the chair across from the captain out and slowly took a seat, straightening his jacket out and making sure it was perfectly straight and unwrinkled as possible as he took a seat,his back straight and posture perfect as the marine looked across the table at the captain.

"Can't say I have sir but you know as well as I do that I am not used to eating real meals, more used to eating MRE's on the fly and well last I checked they don't have qul dir on the MRE menu" Derek said with the slightest of smiles appearing on his handsome but always stern looking face. Not considered a joke to most, it was marine humor but he was sure that the captain would catch the meaning behind the joke. Not moving to take any of the food, Derek wasn't a big eater and he wasn't all that hungry for food at the moment but he was hungry for something else: action. Almost two weeks of inaction on his part was starting to kill the marine, there was no worse enemy to a marine than boredom and you can only clean your weapon so many time before you go stir crazy all cooped up in a room on a ship: Derek was meant to be on the cutting edge of battle, not lounging around in his room.

"Sir as you know, I have been assigned to the USS Achilles because of not only my experience but Marine Corps Command wants me to reactivate Alpha Company of the esteemed Force Reconnaissance Battalion" Derek said frankly as any traces of his previous smile dissapating quickly and the intense, always serious look on the Marines face returned as he continued "I am supposed to access the marines attached and remove those who are not the most elite and those who make the cut along with some of the elite marines from the old USS Merlin's detachment, we are to take up the mantle of Alpha Company. Since your ship is not accomadating enough for a whole company of marines but still on the cutting edge of battle, it was decided by marine command to attach a group of Force Recon marines, the elite the marine corps has to offer, to fulfill any role you need, no mission to big or small sir" Derek said frankly, with a certain bit of pride in his usually emotionless voice,he was honored be at the head of such a revival, the bring back such a prestigious company of marines who have one of the most hard earned and glorious war fighting lineages.

Da`nal grinned at the pride the man showed in his Corps and the bit of humor he put forth. "AS you said, this I already know. Major Cole breifed me on this when he anounce his intention to retire. At the end of this mission he will disembark, and I want you to take over for him. I have instructed the XO & Chief of the Boat to intitate a combat training program for the crew. A part of those instructions was to consult with you. But enough talk. This meeting was as I said earlier an informal meeting. Enough shop talk...let us eat, drink, and share stories of Battle as warriors do!"

At that moment Ahkil and two stewards brought forth a small feast with dishes of all kinds, pitchers of Ale and Bloodwine. Ahkil of course had insisted on preparing the Klingon dishes herself and witht he supplies aquired at SB47 their supplies of alcoholic beverage was unmatched on even the largest of starships. A reminder to Da`nal to have one of the lounges converted to a proper bar for his crew. After all warriors needed a place to celebrate their explotes.

Ahkil lit the flame for the qul DIr and she led the stewards from the room. Reaching in and pulling one of skins from the bowl he held the alcohol soaked delicacy to the flame and poping inthe flaming morsal into his mouth he chewed as he poured them both a drink as he began to speak. "Tell me of your most memoral battle."

____________________________________________________________

Captain Da`nal
CO

Captain Derek Longwinter
Marine CO

 

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