Re: Chapter Six
****
CHAPTER SIX
Recent Memory
Deep Space Five
(Hitching Post Lounge)
Six months ago…
Jasmine tried to blame the warmth suffusing her skin on the Sundowner she was drinking, but she really knew that the true culprit was Captain Terrence Glover.
He was gorgeous, tall and broad shoulder, with smooth coffee-colored skin, and a ruggedly handsome face. Despite Admiral Glover’s constant lobbying, Jasmine had did some checking through the grapevine about the young captain, and had learned some things about his rakish behavior that had made her wary even before she met him several months ago.
When she had heard that Terrence, recently promoted to captain of the Cuffe was coming to DS5, Lt. Mendes had made certain her schedule was filled with a station-wide diagnostic, and it had limited their time together to a brief introduction by his chagrined father.
The second visit had taken her by surprise, and the engineer hadn’t been able to manufacture an excuse not to accept Glover’s invitation to a few drinks in the lounge. Jasmine had been thankful that her counterpart on the Cuffe Lt. Commander Rojas had become smitten by the station’s Communications Officer Christina Raeger and Glover had acceded to a double date.
The presence of the other couple helped blunt the man’s magnetism. “You bagged a sabre bear all by yourself?” Raeger gushed in admiration, her face flushed pink from her third Salurian rum.
“It’s nothing really,” Glover said, a small smile creeping across his face.
“Yeah right, don’t act all modest,” Rojas brayed. “The captain told me that the only weapons the Klingons gave him were two little blades.”
“They’re called tajtiq,” the captain added. “With them I fashioned a bow and arrow.”
“And you did this in the dead of winter on Kang’s Summit, with no help, and not even a communicator to call for help if things got out of hand?” Raeger gushed again, her smile widening, and Jasmine’s annoyance and jealousy growing. “You’re something else Captain Glover.”
Unlike most men that Lt. Mendes knew, Glover didn’t disavow Raeger’s declaration. “Yeah, the Captain is a piece of work. You remember that time on the Kitty Hawk when we got into a fight with those Retellians after they insulted our ship’s warp capabilities.”
“That was more of your fight than mine,” Glover said.
“But you had my back all the way,” Rojas added.
“With all that fighting going on, when do you have time for exploring?” Jasmine asked, more pointedly than she intended.
Before Glover could respond, Raeger said. “Well, I think it’s dashing. There’s something very 23rd century about a two-fisted captain and his crew. We don’t see much action, or such men, on this station too much.” She reached over and squeezed Glover’s forearm, and then sloppily kissed Commander Rojas on the cheek.
Her jealousy piqued, Jasmine was regretting suggesting the double date. Terrence turned to face Jasmine, a serious expression on his face. “We do quite a bit of exploring, among other things, but neither Pedro nor I see any reason in boring you two ladies with the mundane.”
“Hear, Hear!” The tipsy Raeger raised her glass. Rojas followed suit.
“I understand that Captain, it’s just….I expected to learn more about life aboard a starship,” Mendes said.
“So, you’ve never been stationed on a starship?” The captain inquired.
“Not for long,” Jasmine answered. “Just a little while before I wound up at doing duty at 40 Eridani, then the Beta Antares Ship Yards, Tranquility Base, and finally at DS5.”
“You must have a thing for old ships,” Glover remarked appreciatively.
“And stations,” Rojas added, looking around the cramped environs of the Orbiter-class station. The Orbiters had been in use since the late 23rd century.
Mendes frowned. She loved the creaky old station. There were always things to fix, and she liked being, and feeling, needed. “From one engineer to another,” she warned, with more bite than she intended, “leave my station alone.”
Rojas recoiled, his eyes shifting back and forth trying to gauge Jasmine’s true mood. Eventually the man grinned. “Fair enough. I punched that Retellian Firek for saying even less about the Kitty Hawk, and she had been around just about as long as this station.”
“If I recall, it was Firek Doff that punched you,” Glover corrected with a broad grin of his own.
“Well, if you really want to be technical about it,” Rojas said with a shrug. Raeger laughed.
“I could listen to you guys all night,” she said. Jasmine winced inside. The last thing Glover needed was his ego stroked again. “So,” Raeger leaned on Rojas, her cheek pressed against his, but her gaze on Captain Glover. “How did the fight turn out?”
Terrence looked at his Chief Engineer. “Pedro, please do the honors.” Rojas hadn’t finished his first sentence before a commotion drew their attention to the lower level of the Hitching Post. The four had been ensconced in a booth on the balcony, courtesy of Slog, the Gorn proprietor and barkeep. He had also offered the foursome a free pitcher of Meridor, a ghastly Gorn beer that only Glover had been mad enough to try. The second mug of the thick, obsidian brew was sweating in front of him.
Both Glover and Jasmine looked down at the same time. Rojas and Raeger leaned over the table. “Damn,” Glover muttered. “It’s some of ours.” A comely Demerian dabo girl was the only thing standing between a young lieutenant and a feral Chalnoth thrice her size. Three other crewmembers from the Cuffe were standing behind the lieutenant. The Chalnoth similarly had compatriots at his back, some had drawn wickedly curved blades.
“This looks like it might be fun,” Rojas clapped his hands together. Glover glared at him. “Come on, you know it’s been a long time since we’ve had a row.”
“Or since we’ve had some excitement around here,” Raeger added.
“Admiral Glover would not approve of a fight breaking out on his station,” Jasmine said.
“I’m well aware of that Ms. Mendes,” Glover said tightly. “Come on Pedro, let’s go squash this.”
Raeger slid out of her seat to swallow to follow the men, but Glover told her to remain where she was. “I don’t want you ladies getting hurt if things go south.”
“So, you’re saying we can’t handle ourselves in a fight,” Jasmine huffed.
“Damn it woman, there’s just no pleasing you is there?” Glover exclaimed. Mendes smirked. Terrence was cute when he got angry, his broad nostrils flaring, his full lips quivering.
“Fine,” she exhaled, playing at being outraged. “The little women will do the gathering while the manly men go hunting.”
Terrence rolled his eyes, but didn’t respond to her jab. Instead he tapped Pedro on the shoulder. “Let’s go Mr. Rojas.”
*****
“Captain, not only did Dog Breath just insult you, but your entire blood line,” Lt. Dryer said, her face a mask of anger. “Chalnoth culture demands a response.”
Glover sighed. Keeping one eye on the Chalnoth glowering before him, Terrence said, “We’re not on Chalna. How did you become such an expert on Chalnoth culture anyway?”
“I do more than just fire a phaser sir,” Dryer remarked. “A lot more,” she said more loudly for the benefit of the Chalnoth. The tusked, lupine alien laughed.
“If you had wanted to return to my bedchamber in the place of the dabo girl you should’ve told me so,” he crowed. A dozen other Chalnoth guffawed behind him. Terrence tamped down his rising anger.
The captain had quickly extricated the Demerian from between Dryer and the Chalnoth named Garq. The frightened, half-dressed attendant clutched herself by the bar. The massive Slog leaned over the bar top, cradling an old style phaser rifle in his clawed hands.
A security team was already rushing in as several patrons were hastily making their exits. The majority remained at their seats, transfixed by the scene unfolding before them, many with expectant, almost predatory gazes.
Glover had waved for the station’s Security Chief to stand down while he tried to defuse the heated argument.
“Nyota, do you mind telling me what just happened here?”
“He,” she pointed, “Dog Breath tried to force that dabo girl back to his barge.”
“Is that true?” Glover asked the Chalnoth.
“I don’t answer to you human!” Garq spat. “The Chalnoth don’t recognize Federation law!” He thumped his barrel-chest, and the other Chalnoth snarled in agreement.
“You will respect Federation law while you are on this station,” Glover said with quiet resolve. “Now, is the lieutenant’s claim true?”
Garq shrugged. “I merely wanted to cap off another successful night at the Dabo wheel.”
“You had no right putting your paws on her!” Dryer said. Pedro, standing on the captain’s other side, nodded in affirmation. Garq looked down at his hands, in confusion.
“These aren’t paws,” he stared at Dryer a few seconds, with the realization dawning slowly that he had just been insulted. “You will pay for that human!” He charged.
“Damn,” Glover whispered as he ducked low, ramming his shoulder into the Chalnoth’s midsection. The lupine alien went down hard. The other Chalnoth sprang into action, one leaping over Garq’s back, pinning Glover beneath the gasping canid.
Glover flipped Garq off of him, but kept low to the ground. A melee had already broken out in the Hitching Post, replete with flying chairs and tables, shattering glass, and the sounds of running, screaming, and insane laughter.
Terrence moved quickly, capping as many Chalnoth at the knees as possible. He fell to the ground, courtesy of a double ax handle blow to his back. Recovering quickly enough to avoid the boot rushing to smash his face, Glover reached up and thrust his fist hard into the unbalanced assailant’s crotch. The Chalnoth yelped, and Terrence decided it was time to stand up and fight.
A large mass bumped against him, knocking him out of the path of a flying chair. A strong hand stopped Glover from tumbling into a shard-filled table. The captain whipped his head around. Pedro, blood trailing from his broken nose, was grinning ear to ear. “Just like old times eh?”
****
****
CHAPTER SIX
Recent Memory
Deep Space Five
(Hitching Post Lounge)
Six months ago…
Jasmine tried to blame the warmth suffusing her skin on the Sundowner she was drinking, but she really knew that the true culprit was Captain Terrence Glover.
He was gorgeous, tall and broad shoulder, with smooth coffee-colored skin, and a ruggedly handsome face. Despite Admiral Glover’s constant lobbying, Jasmine had did some checking through the grapevine about the young captain, and had learned some things about his rakish behavior that had made her wary even before she met him several months ago.
When she had heard that Terrence, recently promoted to captain of the Cuffe was coming to DS5, Lt. Mendes had made certain her schedule was filled with a station-wide diagnostic, and it had limited their time together to a brief introduction by his chagrined father.
The second visit had taken her by surprise, and the engineer hadn’t been able to manufacture an excuse not to accept Glover’s invitation to a few drinks in the lounge. Jasmine had been thankful that her counterpart on the Cuffe Lt. Commander Rojas had become smitten by the station’s Communications Officer Christina Raeger and Glover had acceded to a double date.
The presence of the other couple helped blunt the man’s magnetism. “You bagged a sabre bear all by yourself?” Raeger gushed in admiration, her face flushed pink from her third Salurian rum.
“It’s nothing really,” Glover said, a small smile creeping across his face.
“Yeah right, don’t act all modest,” Rojas brayed. “The captain told me that the only weapons the Klingons gave him were two little blades.”
“They’re called tajtiq,” the captain added. “With them I fashioned a bow and arrow.”
“And you did this in the dead of winter on Kang’s Summit, with no help, and not even a communicator to call for help if things got out of hand?” Raeger gushed again, her smile widening, and Jasmine’s annoyance and jealousy growing. “You’re something else Captain Glover.”
Unlike most men that Lt. Mendes knew, Glover didn’t disavow Raeger’s declaration. “Yeah, the Captain is a piece of work. You remember that time on the Kitty Hawk when we got into a fight with those Retellians after they insulted our ship’s warp capabilities.”
“That was more of your fight than mine,” Glover said.
“But you had my back all the way,” Rojas added.
“With all that fighting going on, when do you have time for exploring?” Jasmine asked, more pointedly than she intended.
Before Glover could respond, Raeger said. “Well, I think it’s dashing. There’s something very 23rd century about a two-fisted captain and his crew. We don’t see much action, or such men, on this station too much.” She reached over and squeezed Glover’s forearm, and then sloppily kissed Commander Rojas on the cheek.
Her jealousy piqued, Jasmine was regretting suggesting the double date. Terrence turned to face Jasmine, a serious expression on his face. “We do quite a bit of exploring, among other things, but neither Pedro nor I see any reason in boring you two ladies with the mundane.”
“Hear, Hear!” The tipsy Raeger raised her glass. Rojas followed suit.
“I understand that Captain, it’s just….I expected to learn more about life aboard a starship,” Mendes said.
“So, you’ve never been stationed on a starship?” The captain inquired.
“Not for long,” Jasmine answered. “Just a little while before I wound up at doing duty at 40 Eridani, then the Beta Antares Ship Yards, Tranquility Base, and finally at DS5.”
“You must have a thing for old ships,” Glover remarked appreciatively.
“And stations,” Rojas added, looking around the cramped environs of the Orbiter-class station. The Orbiters had been in use since the late 23rd century.
Mendes frowned. She loved the creaky old station. There were always things to fix, and she liked being, and feeling, needed. “From one engineer to another,” she warned, with more bite than she intended, “leave my station alone.”
Rojas recoiled, his eyes shifting back and forth trying to gauge Jasmine’s true mood. Eventually the man grinned. “Fair enough. I punched that Retellian Firek for saying even less about the Kitty Hawk, and she had been around just about as long as this station.”
“If I recall, it was Firek Doff that punched you,” Glover corrected with a broad grin of his own.
“Well, if you really want to be technical about it,” Rojas said with a shrug. Raeger laughed.
“I could listen to you guys all night,” she said. Jasmine winced inside. The last thing Glover needed was his ego stroked again. “So,” Raeger leaned on Rojas, her cheek pressed against his, but her gaze on Captain Glover. “How did the fight turn out?”
Terrence looked at his Chief Engineer. “Pedro, please do the honors.” Rojas hadn’t finished his first sentence before a commotion drew their attention to the lower level of the Hitching Post. The four had been ensconced in a booth on the balcony, courtesy of Slog, the Gorn proprietor and barkeep. He had also offered the foursome a free pitcher of Meridor, a ghastly Gorn beer that only Glover had been mad enough to try. The second mug of the thick, obsidian brew was sweating in front of him.
Both Glover and Jasmine looked down at the same time. Rojas and Raeger leaned over the table. “Damn,” Glover muttered. “It’s some of ours.” A comely Demerian dabo girl was the only thing standing between a young lieutenant and a feral Chalnoth thrice her size. Three other crewmembers from the Cuffe were standing behind the lieutenant. The Chalnoth similarly had compatriots at his back, some had drawn wickedly curved blades.
“This looks like it might be fun,” Rojas clapped his hands together. Glover glared at him. “Come on, you know it’s been a long time since we’ve had a row.”
“Or since we’ve had some excitement around here,” Raeger added.
“Admiral Glover would not approve of a fight breaking out on his station,” Jasmine said.
“I’m well aware of that Ms. Mendes,” Glover said tightly. “Come on Pedro, let’s go squash this.”
Raeger slid out of her seat to swallow to follow the men, but Glover told her to remain where she was. “I don’t want you ladies getting hurt if things go south.”
“So, you’re saying we can’t handle ourselves in a fight,” Jasmine huffed.
“Damn it woman, there’s just no pleasing you is there?” Glover exclaimed. Mendes smirked. Terrence was cute when he got angry, his broad nostrils flaring, his full lips quivering.
“Fine,” she exhaled, playing at being outraged. “The little women will do the gathering while the manly men go hunting.”
Terrence rolled his eyes, but didn’t respond to her jab. Instead he tapped Pedro on the shoulder. “Let’s go Mr. Rojas.”
*****
“Captain, not only did Dog Breath just insult you, but your entire blood line,” Lt. Dryer said, her face a mask of anger. “Chalnoth culture demands a response.”
Glover sighed. Keeping one eye on the Chalnoth glowering before him, Terrence said, “We’re not on Chalna. How did you become such an expert on Chalnoth culture anyway?”
“I do more than just fire a phaser sir,” Dryer remarked. “A lot more,” she said more loudly for the benefit of the Chalnoth. The tusked, lupine alien laughed.
“If you had wanted to return to my bedchamber in the place of the dabo girl you should’ve told me so,” he crowed. A dozen other Chalnoth guffawed behind him. Terrence tamped down his rising anger.
The captain had quickly extricated the Demerian from between Dryer and the Chalnoth named Garq. The frightened, half-dressed attendant clutched herself by the bar. The massive Slog leaned over the bar top, cradling an old style phaser rifle in his clawed hands.
A security team was already rushing in as several patrons were hastily making their exits. The majority remained at their seats, transfixed by the scene unfolding before them, many with expectant, almost predatory gazes.
Glover had waved for the station’s Security Chief to stand down while he tried to defuse the heated argument.
“Nyota, do you mind telling me what just happened here?”
“He,” she pointed, “Dog Breath tried to force that dabo girl back to his barge.”
“Is that true?” Glover asked the Chalnoth.
“I don’t answer to you human!” Garq spat. “The Chalnoth don’t recognize Federation law!” He thumped his barrel-chest, and the other Chalnoth snarled in agreement.
“You will respect Federation law while you are on this station,” Glover said with quiet resolve. “Now, is the lieutenant’s claim true?”
Garq shrugged. “I merely wanted to cap off another successful night at the Dabo wheel.”
“You had no right putting your paws on her!” Dryer said. Pedro, standing on the captain’s other side, nodded in affirmation. Garq looked down at his hands, in confusion.
“These aren’t paws,” he stared at Dryer a few seconds, with the realization dawning slowly that he had just been insulted. “You will pay for that human!” He charged.
“Damn,” Glover whispered as he ducked low, ramming his shoulder into the Chalnoth’s midsection. The lupine alien went down hard. The other Chalnoth sprang into action, one leaping over Garq’s back, pinning Glover beneath the gasping canid.
Glover flipped Garq off of him, but kept low to the ground. A melee had already broken out in the Hitching Post, replete with flying chairs and tables, shattering glass, and the sounds of running, screaming, and insane laughter.
Terrence moved quickly, capping as many Chalnoth at the knees as possible. He fell to the ground, courtesy of a double ax handle blow to his back. Recovering quickly enough to avoid the boot rushing to smash his face, Glover reached up and thrust his fist hard into the unbalanced assailant’s crotch. The Chalnoth yelped, and Terrence decided it was time to stand up and fight.
A large mass bumped against him, knocking him out of the path of a flying chair. A strong hand stopped Glover from tumbling into a shard-filled table. The captain whipped his head around. Pedro, blood trailing from his broken nose, was grinning ear to ear. “Just like old times eh?”
****
And Jasmine and Terrence is an ill-starred romance. This is one of those stories that you really can get more and more out of with repeated readings.
I'm glad you're liking the story and I hope you enjoy the rest.
