[Author's Note: This story includes the Marine Corp and whilst I'm aware the title is a SEAL thing, it just felt rather fitting for this piece]
* * * * *
As the Terrellian swung his meaty fist towards her face, D’Kehra grabbed it with one hand and twisted, applying just the right pressure in just the right places to make the jarhead howl as he dropped to his knees. She kept the hold and spun a little further, feeling him trying to pull his limb free, but her grip was strong—stronger than most gave her credit for.
“Lieutenant!” Mecell warned needlessly.
D’Kehra prided herself on her situational awareness, able to keep track of everything around her with practiced ease that she knew just what was an immediate threat and what wasn’t. As such she knew that the Andorian and human lumbering towards her were definitely in the latter category, but that she was able to take them both, regardless of just what training they’d had.
In her experience the Marine Corp always threw their weight around, often with so much bravado and pomp that they lived to regret their behaviour after she was done with them. So it had been true on the numerous planets and stations she’d run into them during recent years, which meant they were going to get away with even less on the ship where she was head of security. She would put them in their place, show them who was the boss onboard her ship that they’d be begging to face off against a squad of Jem’Hadar rather than her again.
As the Andorian lunged for her, she used her momentum to throw the incapacitated Terrellian into him and sent them toppling over a vacant table. Leaving her with a behemoth of a human to face down, as others in his squad watched, heckled and roared, belittling her, the other Fleeters in the room and the ship they all found themselves on. The giant snarled as they circled one another. His sheer size and build reminded her of a very over-confident Nausicaan on Deep Space Four, the man who was living proof that the bigger they were, the harder they fell—she couldn’t help but wonder if he still had the limp.
The human tried a few fakes, small, sharp lunges intended to catch her off balance. Unfortunately, no one had told him that such a simple ruse wouldn’t work on her. She kept herself loose, shifting her weight from one hip to the other, ready to respond to whatever sloppy shot he took, arms hanging loosely, giving him the impression she wasn’t ready for another assault. If he had any sense he would see the bluff for what it was and back down. But some grunts never could.
In the blink of an eye he launched himself at her, growling. She flashed him a toothy snarl as she quickly side-stepped his lumbering movement, bring her foot upwards and catching him squarely in the jaw. He spun backwards, his speed carrying his legs forward whilst her kick sent his head and torso back, performing an almost perfect reverse summersault, before slamming onto the deck.
The other Marine troopers went quiet as they looked at their three biggest, strongest and meanest members had been brought down by a lean and lithe Orion. The dozen combat specialists looked at the fallen three, before fixing their full attention on her, their hackles up.
“And that is what happens when you disrespect an officer of the Fleet,” she announced, her voice booming around the mess hall. “Do I make myself clear?”
“Sir, yes sir.”
“Pick them up, get them to sickbay and have the Doc check them over. If they get any wise ideas once they come round, tell them they can spend the rest of the trip in the brig.”
There were a few nods, as the other Marines picked up their fallen comrades and hoisted them out of the room. She hoped that would be the end of it, but with knuckle-draggers there was no way to really tell just what got into their skulls and what just bounced off. Just like their commanding officer.
As the room quietened down again, she picked up the chair she’d been sitting on before the Marines interrupted, and took her place at the table once again, several pairs of shocked, amazed and also fearful eyes were locked onto her, all belonging to her shipmates.
“Wow, that was incredible, Lieutenant,” stated Corpsman McGuire.
“Nicely done, sir,” added Ensign Kyhon the Berellian engineer (the perfect example of an oxymoron).
She gave them a smile before they took their seats at other tables in the mess hall, then focused on Mecell, who was still standing, his face such a mixture of conflicting expressions she had to chuckle. “Sit down, Koen, the shows over.”
He cast a glance at the exit then back at her as he slowly lowered himself into the chair. “What if they report this?”
“Then I’ll tell the Captain what really happened.”
The Bajoran looked puzzled for a moment. “What did just happen?”
“I tried to instil some manners into the barbarians, the hard way. Relax, they won’t try anything again, plus the rest of them should leave you alone as well—though I may have become public enemy number one.”
“We could’ve just left.”
She fixed her mahogany eyes on him, a look she’d seen veterans shiver from. The baby-faced rookie shut his mouth and pulled back in his chair. “This is our ship, Ensign. Don’t ever let the likes of them push you around on it. They were in the wrong and had to be reminded of that.”
He nodded quickly and she blinked, replacing the glower with a gentler look, though Mecell was still a little shaken by it. She didn’t want to scare the kid, but he needed to be able to handle situations far worse than that. He’d already made some impressive leaps forward in the last five months, growing more comfortable with the day-to-day work, though still showed signs of panic when he was confronted with tense situations. That would get better in time, he’d learn to use that fear to help keep him sharp and not make him freeze up—fortunately they weren’t a combat ship, so he wouldn’t have to test himself in battle quite yet.
“Now where were we,” she thought aloud for a moment, before a sly grin curled her lips, “oh yes, Petty Officer Willis’ thing for you.”
Mecell’s dark cheeks flushed even darker as coyness overtook whatever else he been feeling moments earlier. Seeing the handsome young ensign become so bashful made her roar with laughter, patting his arm sympathetically.
* * * * *
“This is ridiculous! I want her severely reprimanded for this unprovoked attack on my men,” Lieutenant Colonel Ezekiel Keller bellowed, looming over the desk of Reihyn’s office.
The Rigellian-Enex suspected that the man didn’t have an ‘indoor voice’, as the couple of times they’d spoken he’d been left with a ringing in his ears. The Colonel and his four hundred strong battalion had only been onboard for thirty hours and so far there had already five incidents between the Marines and Starfleet crew, though nothing more than a few terse words or insults thrown about. This most recent clash in the mess hall, between D’Kehra and three privates had been the worst. He had hoped that they could make it to Minos Korva without any violence, but that obviously wasn’t going to be the case.
We had just fifty hours to go before they were offloaded, could they not have controlled themselves for that long? he asked himself.
Prior to being on the Orion, he’d had no interaction with the Marine Corps, and over the last five months they’d only had a few strike teams or small squads to ferry from one system to another; the battalion they carried was the largest contingent they’d ever transported. He hadn’t had the time to get to know any of them, though knew by reputation that they were a disciplined and regimented organisation, so couldn’t attest to their character, but D’Kehra he did know. She was a little wild at times, definitely intense, fiery, sultry, intoxicating—
None of that Rey, he snapped himself quickly out of the schoolboy infatuation over the Orion. She may have been all that, but she was never reckless. Impulsive, yes but not foolhardy, so he had a tough time seeing her pick a fight with three Marines, all of whom had at least ten centimetres and twenty kilos on her.
The enunciator sounded. Reihyn looked at Keller. “I’d like to hear her side of events before making any decision, Colonel,” he said, hoping there was a sufficient edge of warning to his tone. Keller stepped to the side, hands clasped behind his back as he stood beside the sealed outer hatch. “Enter.”
The doors parted and D’Kehra stood waiting, back ramrod straight, posture perfectly poised. Her jade skin almost gleamed in the lights of his airlock-turned-office behind the bridge, whilst her mane of raven black hair hung down her back in a tight braid. She stepped in and came to a stop before his desk, eyes locked onto him, ignoring the Marine officer.
“Captain,” she said by way of greeting.
“Lieutenant,” he replied, clasping his hands in front of him on the desktop. “I suspect you know why I’ve called you in.”
“The mess hall.”
“The mess hall,” he repeated before looking at Keller. “I’ve been given the accounts of Privates Kehlot, Mitchell, and th’Sharek. Now, I’d like to hear your side of the story.”
“Ensign Mecell and myself were in the mess, we we’re having a late lunch, talking about private matters and minding our own business when we were interrupted by Private Kehlot.”
“He came over to your table?” he asked, wanting to keep things clear for everyone.
“Yes sir. I’d noticed them when we arrived, but paid them no attention.”
Reihyn could see the muscles in Keller’s jaw flex from the corner of his eye. “So what happened when he came to the table?”
“He made a comment on the fact I am an Orion serving onboard a ship called the Orion, asking whether that made me the ship’s mascot or, knowing ‘my kind’, the ship’s bike. Mecell was clearly agitated and suggested we depart. Kehlot said that Mecell should leave, so that I could be shown what a ‘real man’ was like. He looked across at Mitchell and th’Sharek, who were laughing and encouraging him.
“I told Mecell that wouldn’t be necessary, then told Kehlot he was bothering us and to leave our table. He said something about me ‘playing hard to get’, at which point he grabbed my arm. I told him to remove it but he didn’t. I then ordered him too. He still didn’t, so I removed it for him.
“It was then that he called me a ‘good for nothing Orion whore’ and pulled me from my chair—”
“Enough!” snapped Keller.
Reihyn shot him a scowl, whilst D’Kehra finally looked in his direction, her face eerily impassive.
“My men do not behave like animals. Obviously, she is lying about this.”
“I can call Ensign Mecell in here to hear how he tells it,” Reihyn pointed out.
“Ha! For all we know she has him wrapped around her little finger—Orion pheromones are known across the two quadrants for their potency.”
“The Lieutenant is on a suppressor for that element of her biology. She was also clear-headed when she was in the mess, unlike your men. My CMO informed me they all had alcohol in their systems, not synthehol—he says it looked like something from a homemade still, something we don’t have onboard. There are also reports from several others of my crew who back her up. In the face of all that, are you still willing to backup three drunken enlistedmen and accuse an officer of improper conduct?”
“It wouldn’t be the first time for her.”
D’Kehra’s brow tightened as she looked at the colonel. Reihyn looked from her to Keller, who held her sharp look with one of his own. The atmosphere in the room became cold and frigid, as though someone had just opened the airlock door. He didn’t know what, but he knew there was definitely something between the two of them. Keller’s last comment had clinched it; he knew the details that had led to her demotion from lieutenant commander to ensign.
“Lieutenant,” he spoke up, drawing her attention back to him, though he could see the fire in her eyes. “I want your word that you were not the aggressor in this incident.”
“I used force to remove his hand, sir, but that was after I ordered him to let go and back off. Private Kehlot swung the first punch. That is what happened.”
The force to her tone told him that she was telling the truth. Whatever personal issues Keller had against her, Reihyn wouldn’t let them dictate how he ran his ship.
“Thank you, Lieutenant. That is all.” She gave him a curt nod but remained where she was. “Is there something else?”
“Yes sir. So as to avoid any further accusations, until the Marines depart, I will restrict myself to quarters when not on duty or training.”
“I don’t think that’ll be necessary, Lieutenant.”
“I do, sir, for the safety of the crew. And the well-being of the Marines,” she added with the subtlest of smiles.
He nodded. “Very well. Dismissed.”
D’Kehra turned on her heel and stalked out the office. As she went, he could feel Keller bristling from where he stood. As soon as the door closed, Reihyn was on his feet.
“Next time you want to come in here and accuse my officers of something, make sure you have all the facts and an airtight case, or so help me I will take you to the Commandant of the Marine Corp!” he shot at the lieutenant colonel before he could even open his mouth. “Leave whatever personal baggage you may have with my officer behind, next time, or I’ll have you and all your people confined to quarters. Am I understood!” it wasn’t a question.
Keller stood at attention, stiffer than he’d been since setting foot on the Orion. “Sir, yes sir.”
“Dismissed.”
The Marine Commander marched out of the ready room, leaving a very irritated and worked up starship Captain behind. Through clenched teeth he told himself, “Fifty hours. Just fifty more hours.”
* * * * *
“And here was me thinking some of them were pretty damn cute,” Myza said as she ran at a steady pace on the treadmill. Just a few meters away, D’Kehra was beating the crap out of a punching bag.
Almost as soon as it happened, the entire crew knew about it. Some started viewing the Marines who’d taken over their ship with a new sense of contempt, whilst others were annoyed the missed the fight. It added a whole new level of tension and stress to the already overworked crew. It didn’t make her job any easier.
The Orion gave a humourless laugh. “Rutting and fighting is about all some of these jarheads are capable of, a few just get confused with which is which.”
“You’re alright though?”
“Yeah,” she replied before slamming the bag with a roundhouse kick—the vibrations of which Myza was convinced she could feel. “They were all too drunk to really be any kind of threat, and even if they weren’t four sheets to the wind, there were only three of them.”
“I do admire your confidence, D’Kehra.”
She landed three quick punches followed by and elbow into the bag, before she chuckled and grinned back at her like a frezket (a large feline on her native Benzar) toying with a rodent it’d caught. “It’s years of practice and skill, Myza.”
Not for the first time, the counsellor thought that she’d need to brush up on her hand-to-hand combat training, though looking at what shape the bag was in, then she might need to ask one of the other security officers for a few pointers and some polishing up of what she’d learnt at the Academy. Every time she saw D’Kehra in the gym she was thoroughly impressed, her combination of grace, power and elegance made her fighting style truly unique. Seeing as how they’d always seemed to be in the gym at the same time, it hadn’t taken long for them to start talking, off the clock of course (Myza needed those she called friends as much as anyone else), and building up an easy relationship.
“Is Mecell alright? That must be the first ‘bar fight’ he’s experienced.”
“He was a little shaken by it, he really doesn’t like violence—his fight-or-flight impulse is heavily weighted towards the latter. It’s something I’m planning on focusing on.”
“Don’t push him. His record is a little vague about his early years, but growing up on occupied Bajor wouldn’t be easy for anyone. Going by his manner, I’d surmise he’s seen enough violence to last several lifetimes.”
D’Kehra paused in her maiming of the apparatus. “Poor kid.”
Truer words had never been spoken.
“At least he’s got you to talk too. He’s really taken a shine to you; one might even say he’s a little smitten.”
D’Kehra laughed. She turned away from the bag to face the running Benzite. “Of all the things Mecell Koen is, it’s not ‘smitten’.” She stepped over to the bench and picked up a towel, wiping sweat from her face, neck, bare shoulders and arms. “I’ve heard rumours of at least two people onboard trying to catch his eye but he’s both oblivious and uninterested.”
“Oh? Who?”
The Orion laughed again. “Does ‘counsellor’ translate to ‘gossip’ on Benzar?”
She chuckled. “It’s my job to know about the emotional and mental health of the crew. Relationships play a key part in that. You’ll notice how I’m not prying into your love life...unless there’s something in that regard you want to share.”
“You’ll have to get me on your therapist couch first.”
“It’s not as comfy as you might think; sometimes it’s better just going onto the floor.”
“Counsellor!” D’Kehra exclaimed with mock shock and disgust.
The outburst drew looks from the three others using the gyms facilities. All they saw were the two lieutenant j.g.’s laughing. They each looked at one another, shrugged their shoulders and carried on with their own workouts.
* * * * *
When her door chimed, D’Kehra was ready for it. “Come in.”
The doors parted to reveal Captain Reihyn, hands clasped behind his back. She stood before her desk, the small cabin not allowing for much in the way of personal space.
“I hope I’m not disturbing you, Lieutenant.”
“Of course not, Captain, please come in, take a seat.”
He stepped inside and the doors closed behind him, before sitting at the small table on the opposite bulkhead. She perched on the edge of the desk beside her bed. A day had passed since he’d called her into his office, since then the two camps onboard were at an uneasy standoff. As such, she’d been expecting him to come and see her.
“So,” he began, stretched out the single syllable. “You and Keller, what gives?”
She smiled. Reihyn had a habit of cutting through the waffle and pontificating and getting straight to the point, it was one of the things she liked most about him. Unfortunately, this was something she had to keep from him.
“I’m sorry, Captain, I’m not at liberty to say.”
He sighed, broad shoulders slumping somewhat. “I thought you’d come with that. I would’ve thought level ten security clearance would mean nothing was kept from me—if only you knew some of the ‘Captain’s eyes only’ things I knew, it’d blow your mind.”
“I wish I could, sir, but it’s—”
“‘In the interests of Federation security’,” he quoted from the redacted passages of her personnel file.
“Keller was there, though,” she admitted. Telling him that wouldn’t lead him to finding out the nature of the mission that’d seen her busted down three ranks, even if he looked at the colonel’s file, there would be blanked out sections in it.
Though she would never forget the Deimos or what it meant for her personally, she had worked hard over the last six years to put it behind her and try to move on. For a brief time she had considered resigning her commission and turning her back on Starfleet altogether, but that would feel like quitting and didn’t sit well with her. Though she had shown great potential (her last CO had told her she would make ‘one helluva Captain, someday soon’), languishing as a junior officer for the rest of her career was a bitter pill to swallow. But she’d kept going, taking rookies under her wing and helping them through the tricky first few years, seeing their achievements and promotions gave her encouragement. She may not see great things anymore in her career, but she could help others achieve them.
Reihyn sat forward, resting his elbows on his knees and looking straight at her. “He came out of it without a scratch, but you were busted down. Just doesn’t feel right to me.”
“Actually, he got a promotion—he was Captain Keller when I knew him.”
“That makes it even worse. I wish there was something I could do—if it were up to me, I’d promote you here and now.”
She looked at Reihyn’s tattooed face, and chuckled. “You must be the first man to come into the boudoir of an Orion woman and just want to promote her—unless that’s a euphemism.”
The Captain’s cheeks flushed and he looked away too quickly. It was one of those rare times when he looked his age and when she actually took notice of him as a man, not a Captain, and liked what she saw. He suddenly stood up, nervous energy radiating from him.
“Well I’ll leave you alone, Lieutenant.”
She pushed off the desk and crossed the room in two strides, before he could make a move for the door. She rested a hand on his chest and could feel his hearts pounding under a taut pectoral. “I wouldn’t be averse to a little ‘promotion’ with you.”
He looked down at her, his grey-blue eyes looked so soft in the low lighting of her quarters, and let out a shaky breathe. “That wouldn’t be appropriate, D’Kehra.”
“Well, the offer is there, do with it what you like.”
Reihyn paused for a moment. She could feel him shifting his weight to move away from her, his head turned toward the entrance. They stood in silence for a long moment, so when he spoke again, his heartbeats had returned to a normal rhythm.
“Keller was not wrong, Orion pheromones are intoxicating—more so the badly-made hooch.”
“I took my inhibitor just an hour ago, it will last for another twenty-nine, I’m giving off nothing that’ll cloud your mind, Captain—I assure you.”
A small smile made dimples on his cheek as he looked down at her again. “Rey.”
"Rey,” she purred, before his lips were pressed against her.
* * * * *
* * * * *
As the Terrellian swung his meaty fist towards her face, D’Kehra grabbed it with one hand and twisted, applying just the right pressure in just the right places to make the jarhead howl as he dropped to his knees. She kept the hold and spun a little further, feeling him trying to pull his limb free, but her grip was strong—stronger than most gave her credit for.
“Lieutenant!” Mecell warned needlessly.
D’Kehra prided herself on her situational awareness, able to keep track of everything around her with practiced ease that she knew just what was an immediate threat and what wasn’t. As such she knew that the Andorian and human lumbering towards her were definitely in the latter category, but that she was able to take them both, regardless of just what training they’d had.
In her experience the Marine Corp always threw their weight around, often with so much bravado and pomp that they lived to regret their behaviour after she was done with them. So it had been true on the numerous planets and stations she’d run into them during recent years, which meant they were going to get away with even less on the ship where she was head of security. She would put them in their place, show them who was the boss onboard her ship that they’d be begging to face off against a squad of Jem’Hadar rather than her again.
As the Andorian lunged for her, she used her momentum to throw the incapacitated Terrellian into him and sent them toppling over a vacant table. Leaving her with a behemoth of a human to face down, as others in his squad watched, heckled and roared, belittling her, the other Fleeters in the room and the ship they all found themselves on. The giant snarled as they circled one another. His sheer size and build reminded her of a very over-confident Nausicaan on Deep Space Four, the man who was living proof that the bigger they were, the harder they fell—she couldn’t help but wonder if he still had the limp.
The human tried a few fakes, small, sharp lunges intended to catch her off balance. Unfortunately, no one had told him that such a simple ruse wouldn’t work on her. She kept herself loose, shifting her weight from one hip to the other, ready to respond to whatever sloppy shot he took, arms hanging loosely, giving him the impression she wasn’t ready for another assault. If he had any sense he would see the bluff for what it was and back down. But some grunts never could.
In the blink of an eye he launched himself at her, growling. She flashed him a toothy snarl as she quickly side-stepped his lumbering movement, bring her foot upwards and catching him squarely in the jaw. He spun backwards, his speed carrying his legs forward whilst her kick sent his head and torso back, performing an almost perfect reverse summersault, before slamming onto the deck.
The other Marine troopers went quiet as they looked at their three biggest, strongest and meanest members had been brought down by a lean and lithe Orion. The dozen combat specialists looked at the fallen three, before fixing their full attention on her, their hackles up.
“And that is what happens when you disrespect an officer of the Fleet,” she announced, her voice booming around the mess hall. “Do I make myself clear?”
“Sir, yes sir.”
“Pick them up, get them to sickbay and have the Doc check them over. If they get any wise ideas once they come round, tell them they can spend the rest of the trip in the brig.”
There were a few nods, as the other Marines picked up their fallen comrades and hoisted them out of the room. She hoped that would be the end of it, but with knuckle-draggers there was no way to really tell just what got into their skulls and what just bounced off. Just like their commanding officer.
As the room quietened down again, she picked up the chair she’d been sitting on before the Marines interrupted, and took her place at the table once again, several pairs of shocked, amazed and also fearful eyes were locked onto her, all belonging to her shipmates.
“Wow, that was incredible, Lieutenant,” stated Corpsman McGuire.
“Nicely done, sir,” added Ensign Kyhon the Berellian engineer (the perfect example of an oxymoron).
She gave them a smile before they took their seats at other tables in the mess hall, then focused on Mecell, who was still standing, his face such a mixture of conflicting expressions she had to chuckle. “Sit down, Koen, the shows over.”
He cast a glance at the exit then back at her as he slowly lowered himself into the chair. “What if they report this?”
“Then I’ll tell the Captain what really happened.”
The Bajoran looked puzzled for a moment. “What did just happen?”
“I tried to instil some manners into the barbarians, the hard way. Relax, they won’t try anything again, plus the rest of them should leave you alone as well—though I may have become public enemy number one.”
“We could’ve just left.”
She fixed her mahogany eyes on him, a look she’d seen veterans shiver from. The baby-faced rookie shut his mouth and pulled back in his chair. “This is our ship, Ensign. Don’t ever let the likes of them push you around on it. They were in the wrong and had to be reminded of that.”
He nodded quickly and she blinked, replacing the glower with a gentler look, though Mecell was still a little shaken by it. She didn’t want to scare the kid, but he needed to be able to handle situations far worse than that. He’d already made some impressive leaps forward in the last five months, growing more comfortable with the day-to-day work, though still showed signs of panic when he was confronted with tense situations. That would get better in time, he’d learn to use that fear to help keep him sharp and not make him freeze up—fortunately they weren’t a combat ship, so he wouldn’t have to test himself in battle quite yet.
“Now where were we,” she thought aloud for a moment, before a sly grin curled her lips, “oh yes, Petty Officer Willis’ thing for you.”
Mecell’s dark cheeks flushed even darker as coyness overtook whatever else he been feeling moments earlier. Seeing the handsome young ensign become so bashful made her roar with laughter, patting his arm sympathetically.
* * * * *
“This is ridiculous! I want her severely reprimanded for this unprovoked attack on my men,” Lieutenant Colonel Ezekiel Keller bellowed, looming over the desk of Reihyn’s office.
The Rigellian-Enex suspected that the man didn’t have an ‘indoor voice’, as the couple of times they’d spoken he’d been left with a ringing in his ears. The Colonel and his four hundred strong battalion had only been onboard for thirty hours and so far there had already five incidents between the Marines and Starfleet crew, though nothing more than a few terse words or insults thrown about. This most recent clash in the mess hall, between D’Kehra and three privates had been the worst. He had hoped that they could make it to Minos Korva without any violence, but that obviously wasn’t going to be the case.
We had just fifty hours to go before they were offloaded, could they not have controlled themselves for that long? he asked himself.
Prior to being on the Orion, he’d had no interaction with the Marine Corps, and over the last five months they’d only had a few strike teams or small squads to ferry from one system to another; the battalion they carried was the largest contingent they’d ever transported. He hadn’t had the time to get to know any of them, though knew by reputation that they were a disciplined and regimented organisation, so couldn’t attest to their character, but D’Kehra he did know. She was a little wild at times, definitely intense, fiery, sultry, intoxicating—
None of that Rey, he snapped himself quickly out of the schoolboy infatuation over the Orion. She may have been all that, but she was never reckless. Impulsive, yes but not foolhardy, so he had a tough time seeing her pick a fight with three Marines, all of whom had at least ten centimetres and twenty kilos on her.
The enunciator sounded. Reihyn looked at Keller. “I’d like to hear her side of events before making any decision, Colonel,” he said, hoping there was a sufficient edge of warning to his tone. Keller stepped to the side, hands clasped behind his back as he stood beside the sealed outer hatch. “Enter.”
The doors parted and D’Kehra stood waiting, back ramrod straight, posture perfectly poised. Her jade skin almost gleamed in the lights of his airlock-turned-office behind the bridge, whilst her mane of raven black hair hung down her back in a tight braid. She stepped in and came to a stop before his desk, eyes locked onto him, ignoring the Marine officer.
“Captain,” she said by way of greeting.
“Lieutenant,” he replied, clasping his hands in front of him on the desktop. “I suspect you know why I’ve called you in.”
“The mess hall.”
“The mess hall,” he repeated before looking at Keller. “I’ve been given the accounts of Privates Kehlot, Mitchell, and th’Sharek. Now, I’d like to hear your side of the story.”
“Ensign Mecell and myself were in the mess, we we’re having a late lunch, talking about private matters and minding our own business when we were interrupted by Private Kehlot.”
“He came over to your table?” he asked, wanting to keep things clear for everyone.
“Yes sir. I’d noticed them when we arrived, but paid them no attention.”
Reihyn could see the muscles in Keller’s jaw flex from the corner of his eye. “So what happened when he came to the table?”
“He made a comment on the fact I am an Orion serving onboard a ship called the Orion, asking whether that made me the ship’s mascot or, knowing ‘my kind’, the ship’s bike. Mecell was clearly agitated and suggested we depart. Kehlot said that Mecell should leave, so that I could be shown what a ‘real man’ was like. He looked across at Mitchell and th’Sharek, who were laughing and encouraging him.
“I told Mecell that wouldn’t be necessary, then told Kehlot he was bothering us and to leave our table. He said something about me ‘playing hard to get’, at which point he grabbed my arm. I told him to remove it but he didn’t. I then ordered him too. He still didn’t, so I removed it for him.
“It was then that he called me a ‘good for nothing Orion whore’ and pulled me from my chair—”
“Enough!” snapped Keller.
Reihyn shot him a scowl, whilst D’Kehra finally looked in his direction, her face eerily impassive.
“My men do not behave like animals. Obviously, she is lying about this.”
“I can call Ensign Mecell in here to hear how he tells it,” Reihyn pointed out.
“Ha! For all we know she has him wrapped around her little finger—Orion pheromones are known across the two quadrants for their potency.”
“The Lieutenant is on a suppressor for that element of her biology. She was also clear-headed when she was in the mess, unlike your men. My CMO informed me they all had alcohol in their systems, not synthehol—he says it looked like something from a homemade still, something we don’t have onboard. There are also reports from several others of my crew who back her up. In the face of all that, are you still willing to backup three drunken enlistedmen and accuse an officer of improper conduct?”
“It wouldn’t be the first time for her.”
D’Kehra’s brow tightened as she looked at the colonel. Reihyn looked from her to Keller, who held her sharp look with one of his own. The atmosphere in the room became cold and frigid, as though someone had just opened the airlock door. He didn’t know what, but he knew there was definitely something between the two of them. Keller’s last comment had clinched it; he knew the details that had led to her demotion from lieutenant commander to ensign.
“Lieutenant,” he spoke up, drawing her attention back to him, though he could see the fire in her eyes. “I want your word that you were not the aggressor in this incident.”
“I used force to remove his hand, sir, but that was after I ordered him to let go and back off. Private Kehlot swung the first punch. That is what happened.”
The force to her tone told him that she was telling the truth. Whatever personal issues Keller had against her, Reihyn wouldn’t let them dictate how he ran his ship.
“Thank you, Lieutenant. That is all.” She gave him a curt nod but remained where she was. “Is there something else?”
“Yes sir. So as to avoid any further accusations, until the Marines depart, I will restrict myself to quarters when not on duty or training.”
“I don’t think that’ll be necessary, Lieutenant.”
“I do, sir, for the safety of the crew. And the well-being of the Marines,” she added with the subtlest of smiles.
He nodded. “Very well. Dismissed.”
D’Kehra turned on her heel and stalked out the office. As she went, he could feel Keller bristling from where he stood. As soon as the door closed, Reihyn was on his feet.
“Next time you want to come in here and accuse my officers of something, make sure you have all the facts and an airtight case, or so help me I will take you to the Commandant of the Marine Corp!” he shot at the lieutenant colonel before he could even open his mouth. “Leave whatever personal baggage you may have with my officer behind, next time, or I’ll have you and all your people confined to quarters. Am I understood!” it wasn’t a question.
Keller stood at attention, stiffer than he’d been since setting foot on the Orion. “Sir, yes sir.”
“Dismissed.”
The Marine Commander marched out of the ready room, leaving a very irritated and worked up starship Captain behind. Through clenched teeth he told himself, “Fifty hours. Just fifty more hours.”
* * * * *
“And here was me thinking some of them were pretty damn cute,” Myza said as she ran at a steady pace on the treadmill. Just a few meters away, D’Kehra was beating the crap out of a punching bag.
Almost as soon as it happened, the entire crew knew about it. Some started viewing the Marines who’d taken over their ship with a new sense of contempt, whilst others were annoyed the missed the fight. It added a whole new level of tension and stress to the already overworked crew. It didn’t make her job any easier.
The Orion gave a humourless laugh. “Rutting and fighting is about all some of these jarheads are capable of, a few just get confused with which is which.”
“You’re alright though?”
“Yeah,” she replied before slamming the bag with a roundhouse kick—the vibrations of which Myza was convinced she could feel. “They were all too drunk to really be any kind of threat, and even if they weren’t four sheets to the wind, there were only three of them.”
“I do admire your confidence, D’Kehra.”
She landed three quick punches followed by and elbow into the bag, before she chuckled and grinned back at her like a frezket (a large feline on her native Benzar) toying with a rodent it’d caught. “It’s years of practice and skill, Myza.”
Not for the first time, the counsellor thought that she’d need to brush up on her hand-to-hand combat training, though looking at what shape the bag was in, then she might need to ask one of the other security officers for a few pointers and some polishing up of what she’d learnt at the Academy. Every time she saw D’Kehra in the gym she was thoroughly impressed, her combination of grace, power and elegance made her fighting style truly unique. Seeing as how they’d always seemed to be in the gym at the same time, it hadn’t taken long for them to start talking, off the clock of course (Myza needed those she called friends as much as anyone else), and building up an easy relationship.
“Is Mecell alright? That must be the first ‘bar fight’ he’s experienced.”
“He was a little shaken by it, he really doesn’t like violence—his fight-or-flight impulse is heavily weighted towards the latter. It’s something I’m planning on focusing on.”
“Don’t push him. His record is a little vague about his early years, but growing up on occupied Bajor wouldn’t be easy for anyone. Going by his manner, I’d surmise he’s seen enough violence to last several lifetimes.”
D’Kehra paused in her maiming of the apparatus. “Poor kid.”
Truer words had never been spoken.
“At least he’s got you to talk too. He’s really taken a shine to you; one might even say he’s a little smitten.”
D’Kehra laughed. She turned away from the bag to face the running Benzite. “Of all the things Mecell Koen is, it’s not ‘smitten’.” She stepped over to the bench and picked up a towel, wiping sweat from her face, neck, bare shoulders and arms. “I’ve heard rumours of at least two people onboard trying to catch his eye but he’s both oblivious and uninterested.”
“Oh? Who?”
The Orion laughed again. “Does ‘counsellor’ translate to ‘gossip’ on Benzar?”
She chuckled. “It’s my job to know about the emotional and mental health of the crew. Relationships play a key part in that. You’ll notice how I’m not prying into your love life...unless there’s something in that regard you want to share.”
“You’ll have to get me on your therapist couch first.”
“It’s not as comfy as you might think; sometimes it’s better just going onto the floor.”
“Counsellor!” D’Kehra exclaimed with mock shock and disgust.
The outburst drew looks from the three others using the gyms facilities. All they saw were the two lieutenant j.g.’s laughing. They each looked at one another, shrugged their shoulders and carried on with their own workouts.
* * * * *
When her door chimed, D’Kehra was ready for it. “Come in.”
The doors parted to reveal Captain Reihyn, hands clasped behind his back. She stood before her desk, the small cabin not allowing for much in the way of personal space.
“I hope I’m not disturbing you, Lieutenant.”
“Of course not, Captain, please come in, take a seat.”
He stepped inside and the doors closed behind him, before sitting at the small table on the opposite bulkhead. She perched on the edge of the desk beside her bed. A day had passed since he’d called her into his office, since then the two camps onboard were at an uneasy standoff. As such, she’d been expecting him to come and see her.
“So,” he began, stretched out the single syllable. “You and Keller, what gives?”
She smiled. Reihyn had a habit of cutting through the waffle and pontificating and getting straight to the point, it was one of the things she liked most about him. Unfortunately, this was something she had to keep from him.
“I’m sorry, Captain, I’m not at liberty to say.”
He sighed, broad shoulders slumping somewhat. “I thought you’d come with that. I would’ve thought level ten security clearance would mean nothing was kept from me—if only you knew some of the ‘Captain’s eyes only’ things I knew, it’d blow your mind.”
“I wish I could, sir, but it’s—”
“‘In the interests of Federation security’,” he quoted from the redacted passages of her personnel file.
“Keller was there, though,” she admitted. Telling him that wouldn’t lead him to finding out the nature of the mission that’d seen her busted down three ranks, even if he looked at the colonel’s file, there would be blanked out sections in it.
Though she would never forget the Deimos or what it meant for her personally, she had worked hard over the last six years to put it behind her and try to move on. For a brief time she had considered resigning her commission and turning her back on Starfleet altogether, but that would feel like quitting and didn’t sit well with her. Though she had shown great potential (her last CO had told her she would make ‘one helluva Captain, someday soon’), languishing as a junior officer for the rest of her career was a bitter pill to swallow. But she’d kept going, taking rookies under her wing and helping them through the tricky first few years, seeing their achievements and promotions gave her encouragement. She may not see great things anymore in her career, but she could help others achieve them.
Reihyn sat forward, resting his elbows on his knees and looking straight at her. “He came out of it without a scratch, but you were busted down. Just doesn’t feel right to me.”
“Actually, he got a promotion—he was Captain Keller when I knew him.”
“That makes it even worse. I wish there was something I could do—if it were up to me, I’d promote you here and now.”
She looked at Reihyn’s tattooed face, and chuckled. “You must be the first man to come into the boudoir of an Orion woman and just want to promote her—unless that’s a euphemism.”
The Captain’s cheeks flushed and he looked away too quickly. It was one of those rare times when he looked his age and when she actually took notice of him as a man, not a Captain, and liked what she saw. He suddenly stood up, nervous energy radiating from him.
“Well I’ll leave you alone, Lieutenant.”
She pushed off the desk and crossed the room in two strides, before he could make a move for the door. She rested a hand on his chest and could feel his hearts pounding under a taut pectoral. “I wouldn’t be averse to a little ‘promotion’ with you.”
He looked down at her, his grey-blue eyes looked so soft in the low lighting of her quarters, and let out a shaky breathe. “That wouldn’t be appropriate, D’Kehra.”
“Well, the offer is there, do with it what you like.”
Reihyn paused for a moment. She could feel him shifting his weight to move away from her, his head turned toward the entrance. They stood in silence for a long moment, so when he spoke again, his heartbeats had returned to a normal rhythm.
“Keller was not wrong, Orion pheromones are intoxicating—more so the badly-made hooch.”
“I took my inhibitor just an hour ago, it will last for another twenty-nine, I’m giving off nothing that’ll cloud your mind, Captain—I assure you.”
A small smile made dimples on his cheek as he looked down at her again. “Rey.”
"Rey,” she purred, before his lips were pressed against her.
* * * * *
Last edited:
