I love that era's phaser the best. In Star Trek Online, my characters all have it at the ready.
Star Trek: First Duty #3 - "At Her Majesty's Discretion" (WIP)
- Thread starter McCovey Cove
- Start date
I love that era's phaser the best. In Star Trek Online, my characters all have it at the ready.
I appreciate you reading! Thank you!
Yukikaze and Surprise dropped out of warp aft of Proteus. The Kzin ship was docked alongside her with multiple boarding tubes extended.
Chen frowned and wondered, "Who's boarding who?"
Behind them, their tactical officer reported, "Scans are inconclusive, but there's some Kzin on some levels of Proteus, and it looks like some human life signs on the Kzin raider. Seems pretty well co-mingled."
Toland ordered, "Contact Proteus on the pre-arranged frequency and see who answers."
Seconds later, tactical reported, "I have an Able Sailor Cooper on that frequency, sir." At Toland's order, the viewscreen showed a harried young woman holding a plasma pistol in her hand.
"This is Fleet Captain Toland of the Federation starship Yukikaze. We received your distress call," he said as he rose from his seat.
Cooper replied, initially confused, "Fleet Captain? Sir, we're being boarded by Kzin! My officer is dead and I have almost no contact with the other decks right now."
"Shall we send teams to help retake your ship?"
The sailor adopted a perplexed expression.
Chen stepped forward and whispered, "Sir, I don't think she can authorize that. But, I think under the circumstances…"
Toland nodded while wearing a grim expression. "Cooper, was it?"
"Yes, sir, Able Sailor Cooper, Signalman Striker," she replied with a touch of pride to her voice. Suddenly, with a clatter of noise behind her, she spun around with her pistol at the ready. The second a Kzin's ear appeared, she fired, and the feed went dead.
"Send Surprise a copy of that last transmission and inform Captain Goldsberry that I'm sending my marines aboard Proteus. He's welcome to join the party," Toland turned to fix his gaze on the tactical officer. "Number One, suit up for a hot boarding."
Chen grinned widely, eager for the opportunity. "With pleasure, sir."
Leo walked his fingers along the surface of the plotting table, which had turned into a security screen, showing the last reported locations of the intruders. With the flying bridge already compromised and no word from the signals department, he realized that the Kzin were not trying to take the command center. He wondered aloud, "Why aren't they beaming directly onto the quarterdeck?"
Having heard him, Castlereagh gestured upwards at the transparent dome. "The dome is infused with a magnesium carbonate coating."
He blinked. "You're kidding. Magnesite ore?"
"Refined and processed with some other materials to diminish its combustibility. Then, we coat the dome with it," she explained quickly. "It mitigates most stellar radiation and prevents all electromagnetic signals from passing through."
"Including transporters," Leo surmised. "But how are we able to get communications, if that's the case?" Before she could answer, he figured it out. "Because everything on this deck is hard-wired. That's why the captain has a wired handset on the upper deck. I thought it was simply an aesthetic design choice."
"Well done, you," she said with a grin. "All right, I'm sending more people to the reactor room. We don't have a lot left to send, however. Sickbay is reporting over-capacity, at the moment."
He worked through the notion if the reactor room should fall. He traced the power wave guides from the reactor room to see if a cutover for power existed. His inquiry met with an error denying him access to the information. "I need access to the power subsystems. We might need to reroute power directly from the warp core in case they compromise the reactor room. We won't lose power to the EPS network."
"Capital! One moment," she said, before entering in her security authorization. "You should have access, now."
Leo raised his head to say thanks, but caught sight of movement behind her. "Down!" he shouted, his phaser in his hand, thumb toggling off the safety. He fired a shot, striking a crate to inform the Kzin intruders that he would not let them pass easily.
"Hold fire! Hold fire!" said a new voice with a high tenor. "Commander Chen, Federation starship Yukikaze."
He stayed behind the cover of the table with his phaser at the ready. Unwilling to simply accept the introduction at face value, he confirmed with a quick question: "Who's your CO, Commander?"
"Fleet Captain Toland," she replied. "He commands Task Unit Seventeen-Oh-One, now."
Satisfied, Leo lowered his aim and assured Castlereagh, "Starfleet's here." He approached the barricade and began removing the bench to move the crates out of the way.
Chen stepped in, once the threshold was cleared of the obstruction. "Commander Verde, I presume?"
He extended his hand and grinned. "Please, call me Leo."
"Jacqueline Chen, XO," she introduced herself. "We didn't have time to meet, before. I have my entire marine company here. Surprise sent over two platoons. Where do you want them, Leo?"
He turned to cede the floor to the lieutenant. "This is Lieutenant Castlereagh, she's in acting command of Proteus."
"Damned glad to see you all," Castlereagh barely held her joy in check as she spoke. The handshakes were enthusiastic. "The reactor room is where most the Kzin are, right now. My people are barely holding on. I could also use a squad up to the signals room and the flying bridge."
"Reactor room is where?" Chen asked.
Castlereagh replied automatically, "Stern quarter of the orlop."
Confusion marred Chen's face, as she appealed to Leo with a quick glance. "Uh…"
"Aft section, deck three," Leo helpfully supplied. "We're on the quarterdeck, below us is the main deck, orlop's below that. It took me a bit to get my bearings, too."
Castlereagh sighed with a shake of her head. Grabbing her pistol and adjusting her naval cutlass, she informed Chen, "I'll lead you there myself." She strode off, but before leaving, cast a glance back at Leo.
"The ship is yours, Commander."
Always a great moment when the cavalry arrives... Thanks!! rbs
The final revision of Chapter One of this story is now available on Ad Astra!
At Her Majesty's Discretion - Chapter 1 - LordMcCoveyCove - Expanded Universes (General) [Ad Astra :: Star Trek Fanfiction Archive]
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Part Ten: Her Majesty's Missive
NCC-2582 (USS Farragut)
Docked at HMSB Hestia, in synchronous orbit of Greenwood
Flag Staff Quarters 2P04
August 9, 2318 (Stardate 86.88)
Leo entered his assigned quarters on the flag deck aboard Farragut, carrying in a fresh new wardrobe within a stack of garment bags. He placed the bags on the bed and unzipped the first one, revealing the excursion overcoat for away missions.
Upon his return to his guest cabin on Proteus, he discovered the door destroyed via weapons' fire, along with every other door on that deck. The interior of the compartment faced the wrath of explosives, destroying everything within, including his personal effects. The Kzinti energy weapons effortlessly obliterated his assortment of Starfleet standard issue clothing and his civilian wear from his time in San Francisco.
Losing his belongings did not bother Leo. His father’s phaser pistol mattered the most to him. Throughout the ordeal, he kept it on his person and used it with great effectiveness during active combat. He glanced at the phaser, safely within the box Essa transported it within. The memory of its weight in his hand along with the gentle recoil with each discharge floated up within his mind. He smirked to himself as he recalled the question of its functionality; the day's battle reached a definitive conclusion. Leo hoped he would not have to use it to such a degree in the future. As the conflict between Greenwood and the Kzinti Patriarchy intensified, the task force had to prepare for the possibility of further violence. As he tried to reconcile his duty with the brutal reality of war, it weighed on his mind.
As he hung his newly replicated uniforms in the bedroom closet, the deep maroon color triggered the memory of all the blood on the decks of Proteus; the lifeless eyes of Gwen Ballard on the flying bridge, along with the bodies of Able Sailor Rimes and the rest of the petty officers.
He froze, then his body trembled.
The clothes in his arms slipped from his grasp. They fell to the deck.
Lost in thought, he stared into the distance ahead. The beat of his heart reverberated in his chest.
Disoriented, Leo collapsed backward onto his bunk. He laid down with his hands above his head. He focused on deep breathing to regain control over his racing pulse, using the bit of awareness he had left.
Beads of sweat appeared on his brow as his head and heart thumped heavily. He closed his eyes, turned sideways, and curled up in a fetal position.
The tri-tone melody of an incoming call thankfully interrupted his waking nightmare. His eyes snapped open. He extended his hand to touch the panel by the head of his bed in order to open the channel.
With a rough voice, he introduced himself as “Verde,” breaking through the dryness in his throat.
A feminine voice greeted him with a familiar alto tone. "Sir, this is Lieutenant Aravila. Sorry to disturb."
Leo quickly removed his combat uniform, as it felt too restrictive. As he popped the thick chest panel off with a simple gesture, he replied, "No worries. How can I help the flag lieutenant?"
The Bolian woman replied, "I realize it's quite early in the morning, however, the admiral wished for me to let you know when she returned aboard. She said she would make herself available to you if you needed to speak with her."
"Oh, uh… that's nice of her," he said, opting for a composed front despite his emotional distress. "Please let the admiral know I finished my report-"
She interrupted him, quickly acknowledging with a, "Yes, sir… I have it, here."
"Excellent."
"Can I let the admiral know you'll be joining her presently?"
The idea of seeing her crossed his mind, but he lacked the energy for a late-night discussion with his aunt. “Actually, no. I'd really prefer to get some rest. Unless there’s an urgent matter that she needs me for…?"
Aravila answered, "No, sir. I believe this was purely a social call."
He relaxed. "Then, please send her my regrets."
"Aye, sir, I will. One last thing… she said she would like to see you for breakfast at oh-nine-hundred."
Leo smirked. "That late? Is she sleeping in?"
He could hear the smile in her voice. "Yes, sir. She was aboard Indefatigable. The Home Fleet hosted another dinner." She lowered her tone. "There was a lot of drinking and carousing, in true Royal Navy fashion."
He let out a short, staccato laugh. "Ha! The Navy knows how to party. Fine, well, then I'll see her for breakfast in seven hours."
"Understood, sir. Have a good night."
"You, too. Get some rest."
She giggled dutifully. "I'll try, sir. Aravila, out."
Leo sat on the bed, now clad only in his standard-issue black boxer briefs. He enjoyed the cool air against his damp skin. The conversation with Aravila worked to settle his mind and bring his pulse under control.
He knew sleep would be elusive, and it sounded as though he had another packed day ahead of him.
Casting a quick glance toward the head, he knew all the showers on the flag deck used water rather than sonic. The flag staff quarters also featured a bathtub/shower combination in case he wanted to indulge.
And he definitely needed something indulgent.
"Computer," he called out, "fill the tub for me; water temperature at thirty-eight degrees Celsius."
A pleasing set of tones played over the speakers. "Working," said the computer. "Thirty seconds to completion. Please stand by."
While he waited for the computer to finish, he grabbed the rest of his clothes on the deck and hung the uniforms, and set the other garments in the drawers. By the time the last of his undergarments lay in the drawers, folded and ready, the relaxing waters of the tub awaited him.
NCC-2582 (USS Farragut)
Docked at HMSB Hestia, in synchronous orbit of Greenwood
Flag Staff Quarters 2P04
August 9, 2318 (Stardate 86.88)
Leo entered his assigned quarters on the flag deck aboard Farragut, carrying in a fresh new wardrobe within a stack of garment bags. He placed the bags on the bed and unzipped the first one, revealing the excursion overcoat for away missions.
Upon his return to his guest cabin on Proteus, he discovered the door destroyed via weapons' fire, along with every other door on that deck. The interior of the compartment faced the wrath of explosives, destroying everything within, including his personal effects. The Kzinti energy weapons effortlessly obliterated his assortment of Starfleet standard issue clothing and his civilian wear from his time in San Francisco.
Losing his belongings did not bother Leo. His father’s phaser pistol mattered the most to him. Throughout the ordeal, he kept it on his person and used it with great effectiveness during active combat. He glanced at the phaser, safely within the box Essa transported it within. The memory of its weight in his hand along with the gentle recoil with each discharge floated up within his mind. He smirked to himself as he recalled the question of its functionality; the day's battle reached a definitive conclusion. Leo hoped he would not have to use it to such a degree in the future. As the conflict between Greenwood and the Kzinti Patriarchy intensified, the task force had to prepare for the possibility of further violence. As he tried to reconcile his duty with the brutal reality of war, it weighed on his mind.
As he hung his newly replicated uniforms in the bedroom closet, the deep maroon color triggered the memory of all the blood on the decks of Proteus; the lifeless eyes of Gwen Ballard on the flying bridge, along with the bodies of Able Sailor Rimes and the rest of the petty officers.
He froze, then his body trembled.
The clothes in his arms slipped from his grasp. They fell to the deck.
Lost in thought, he stared into the distance ahead. The beat of his heart reverberated in his chest.
Disoriented, Leo collapsed backward onto his bunk. He laid down with his hands above his head. He focused on deep breathing to regain control over his racing pulse, using the bit of awareness he had left.
Beads of sweat appeared on his brow as his head and heart thumped heavily. He closed his eyes, turned sideways, and curled up in a fetal position.
The tri-tone melody of an incoming call thankfully interrupted his waking nightmare. His eyes snapped open. He extended his hand to touch the panel by the head of his bed in order to open the channel.
With a rough voice, he introduced himself as “Verde,” breaking through the dryness in his throat.
A feminine voice greeted him with a familiar alto tone. "Sir, this is Lieutenant Aravila. Sorry to disturb."
Leo quickly removed his combat uniform, as it felt too restrictive. As he popped the thick chest panel off with a simple gesture, he replied, "No worries. How can I help the flag lieutenant?"
The Bolian woman replied, "I realize it's quite early in the morning, however, the admiral wished for me to let you know when she returned aboard. She said she would make herself available to you if you needed to speak with her."
"Oh, uh… that's nice of her," he said, opting for a composed front despite his emotional distress. "Please let the admiral know I finished my report-"
She interrupted him, quickly acknowledging with a, "Yes, sir… I have it, here."
"Excellent."
"Can I let the admiral know you'll be joining her presently?"
The idea of seeing her crossed his mind, but he lacked the energy for a late-night discussion with his aunt. “Actually, no. I'd really prefer to get some rest. Unless there’s an urgent matter that she needs me for…?"
Aravila answered, "No, sir. I believe this was purely a social call."
He relaxed. "Then, please send her my regrets."
"Aye, sir, I will. One last thing… she said she would like to see you for breakfast at oh-nine-hundred."
Leo smirked. "That late? Is she sleeping in?"
He could hear the smile in her voice. "Yes, sir. She was aboard Indefatigable. The Home Fleet hosted another dinner." She lowered her tone. "There was a lot of drinking and carousing, in true Royal Navy fashion."
He let out a short, staccato laugh. "Ha! The Navy knows how to party. Fine, well, then I'll see her for breakfast in seven hours."
"Understood, sir. Have a good night."
"You, too. Get some rest."
She giggled dutifully. "I'll try, sir. Aravila, out."
Leo sat on the bed, now clad only in his standard-issue black boxer briefs. He enjoyed the cool air against his damp skin. The conversation with Aravila worked to settle his mind and bring his pulse under control.
He knew sleep would be elusive, and it sounded as though he had another packed day ahead of him.
Casting a quick glance toward the head, he knew all the showers on the flag deck used water rather than sonic. The flag staff quarters also featured a bathtub/shower combination in case he wanted to indulge.
And he definitely needed something indulgent.
"Computer," he called out, "fill the tub for me; water temperature at thirty-eight degrees Celsius."
A pleasing set of tones played over the speakers. "Working," said the computer. "Thirty seconds to completion. Please stand by."
While he waited for the computer to finish, he grabbed the rest of his clothes on the deck and hung the uniforms, and set the other garments in the drawers. By the time the last of his undergarments lay in the drawers, folded and ready, the relaxing waters of the tub awaited him.
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It looks like part of the very beginning of this post is missing.
Thanks, not sure why it cut off the first bit like that since the Part Ten portion was part of the paste. Really odd.
lovely to see this story picking up again
Sir Robert Lennox entered Her Majesty's private study carrying her crimson PADD in a hand-weaved basket before setting it down on the desk. A steward followed him, carrying a tray of breakfast and a steaming pot of tea. Once the desk's layout met the secretary's exacting standards, he dismissed the young woman with a nod. The seconds counted down to the half-hour and, like clockwork, the inner door leading to the Queen's private quarters opened.
Amelia, to his surprise, wore a matching set of sweatshirt and sweatpants; alarmingly anachronistic from a societal standpoint. They were heather gray, with Federation blue lettering that spelled out the words "Starfleet Academy, Est. 2161" and the Academy's logo on the front. The left pant leg had similar lettering.
He cleared his throat to catch her attention. "Good morning, Majesty."
She took delight in his slight, yet unmistakable discomfort. "Good morning, Sir Robert. Something on your mind?"
"Well, erm… your fashion this morning is, shall we say… atypical for the morning," he said as he recovered his ordinary equanimity.
"Admiral Essa sent these as part of a gift package of Starfleet-themed items. I thought I would try them on this morning and I love how comfortable they feel. Far superior to my dressing gown," she said with a proud grin on her lips. She settled into her desk chair and happily set the plate holding her favorite croissant, a variety of fruit preserves, and a pad of butter.
He cleared his throat once more and took the seat across the desk from her; remaining in the study in the case she should need his services. "I'm sure that they are most comfortable, ma'am. However, I hope you do not intend to wear that outside of your rooms."
"I don't wear my dressing gown outside of my rooms, either, Robert. And I'm not a child."
"No, ma'am, I did not intend to treat you as one."
"Good, because that would ruin my cheerful mood this morning." She reached for the PADD and set it top its stand with a wry smile, seeing as how the PADD itself represented a much stronger anachronism than her sweats did. The thought left her mind as quickly as it entered, and she activated the screen, using the biometric authentication to unlock it.
Amelia always skimmed through the index of government reports and advisories, hoping to avoid any inauspicious findings at the bottom. Halfway down, a subject header jumped out at her, as it had to do with the Starfleet Task Force operating in their territory, referencing a skirmish with Kzinti forces.
She brought her marmalade'd croissant to her lips to take a bite with one hand, and tapped open the report with the other. As Amy's eyes read through the contents of the detailed report, they widened significantly and her jaw tightened to prevent any further chewing. She set down her breakfast pastry on the plate and held the device with both hands, giving the words her full attention.
"Has Sir Tracy seen this report?" asked Amy, turning the screen around to show him the subject line.
Sir Robert sat upright in this seat and narrowed his eyes at the text. "I would presume so, ma'am."
"Then I should like a meeting with him later today, if you please."
Commodore Sir Tracy Newby arrived in the castle's library ahead of their arranged meeting time. He loved the smell of the book collection passed through the generations of the Fitzwilliam family. He spied tomes and treatise once belonging to the Queens and Kings of the Realm, stretching back to the twenty-second century. Among those bound treasures, he knew that Queen Victoria's original plan for the capital city of the colony, then named 'Greenbriar' and later renamed to 'Victoria' in her honor after her passing. Those plans resided within that very room, touched by her hands, and bore her signature as the then-Duchess of the colony.
He heard the clicking of heels along the wood flooring in the oldest part of the castle just outside the library's doors, knowing who approached. Sir Tracy rose to his feet as the large doors parted to admit Victoria's three-times great-granddaughter, Amelia.
"Your Majesty," he greeted with a bow of his head and eyes closed.
"Sir Tracy," she replied, offering her head to him. "So good of you to come on short notice."
He shook his head after taking her hand briefly. "I am always at your disposal, ma'am. How might I be of service to you this morning?"
Amelia sat in her favorite chair; the overstuffed armchair that her father always used when he chose to seclude himself amongst the stacks. "There was a report from the Navy outlining a skirmish involving Proteus. What do you know of it?"
"Ma'am, I read the brief this morning, as you have. I made some calls to Admiralty House when Sir Robert informed me you wish to discuss the matter. My understanding from the Third Naval Lord, is that Proteus is undergoing extensive repairs at Gibraltar's drydock facility, and they project it will be at least three weeks before she is made space-worthy again."
She listened and then nodded. "I see. What of the personnel? I read they took heavy losses when the Kzin boarded."
"They did, ma'am. Of the 212 aboard, 122 souls perished in defense of the ship, including seven warrants, two of the three midshipmen, and the lieutenant commanding the marines. Forty-eight sustained wounds in combat, including all three commissioned officers aboard. I'm told Dame Stacy will make a full recovery, however, she is in hospital on Gibraltar for observation as she sustained a plasma shot to her heart and lungs."
She closed her eyes, hearing the number of losses. "And the Starfleet personnel?"
"No losses, ma'am. The Federation starship Yukikaze, Fleet Captain Toland commanding, transported their entire marine company to reinforce the Royal Marines in defence of Proteus. The starship Surprise, Captain Goldsberry commanding, sent engineers and marines to help shore up damage so they could rig for FTL towing to the starbase. Both starships also offered their full medical facilities to support Doctor Farrell's efforts to save as many of the crew as possible. Their work prevented the loss of twenty-three."
"Commendable. Does the First Naval Lord intend to recognize the efforts of the Starfleet personnel who directly contributed to the defence?"
Sir Tracy blinked. "I'm afraid I did not enquire, ma'am, but I would imagine that through the chain of command, Dame Stacy would write several nominations for those under her command."
Satisfied, Amelia noted, "Very well. I will leave that to the Navy to determine. However, I should like for you to determine whether there might be honours to be conferred at my level considering these valorous acts."
"As you wish, ma'am," he said with a bow of his head in response to her command.
"I have one more question for you," she said, hesitantly. "And please keep this in the strictest of confidence."
"This entire conversation is classified under the Crown Secrets Act, ma'am," he reminded her.
She smiled. "I understand, however, I daresay this next question shall be rather compromising…"
He was unsure how to respond. Instead, he dipped his head downward once more to show his compliance.
Amy reached up to touch the strands of her jet black hair. "Please tell me what happened with Commander Verde?"
Sir Tracy forced himself not to smile. "Of course, ma'am." He tapped his PADD and called up the information contained in Dame Stacy's preliminary report, then recounted her words, documenting his actions during the fight. How he worked to save Lieutenant Andry's life, rescued crewmembers prone on the deck, worked with the second officer to secure the ship, and finally, standing watches in command when no other officers could. "He worked with the aforementioned Starfleet captains to arrange for repairs and rigging for the tow. Once he arrived at Gibraltar, Admiral Essa recalled him to deliver his report in person. The First Naval Lord has informed me she will share his report as soon as possible."
She wore a wide smile, hearing of his deeds. She cleared her throat when he finished his briefing. "Erm, he… survived without injury?" Her voice betrayed her hopeful expectation.
"Yes, ma'am. Doctor Farrell expressed her thanks to him for his work on Leftenant Andry. According to her report, Commander Verde carried him down to the sickbay so she could repair his traumas."
"Then, I'm to assume he has returned to Farragut?"
"That is correct, ma'am," Sir Tracy confirmed. "He reported back aboard late last night."
Amy considered that information, bringing her hands down to her lap and clasping all of her fingers together. Her eyes steeled, and she settled a smiling gaze upon Sir Tracy. "As I'm unable to make a personal visit without causing a massive disturbance, could I trouble you to look in on him on my behalf?"
He took notes and hid his smile behind the top of his PADD. "Happy to, ma'am. Is there any message you wish for me to convey?"
She paused. Her eyes stared off toward the wall behind him, and she jumped from her seat. He rose out of respect for her and watched as she moved to the desk her late father had placed in the room when he spent a majority of his time in the library. A slip of paper with her Royal Cypher of a crowned letter A in the upper corner appeared from one of the desk's drawers. She scribbled out a single sentence and then crumpled the page.
Another page, another scribble, and another crumple followed.
She took in a deep breath and closed her eyes. At last, she chose her idea, penned it in two sentences, signed it, and placed it in a small envelope. Then, the Queen walked to him and offered it to him.
Amy blushed as she spoke. "This message, specifically, if you please."
"Of course, ma'am," he replied, accepting the missive and placing it in his uniform jacket's interior breast pocket. "Shall I wait for his response?"
She fidgeted. The wildly uncharacteristic act from the Queen caused Sir Tracy to stare wide-eyed. "I, erm, no-yes-no… yes. Please return here, directly, once he does so." They retook their seats.
"Yes, ma'am." Unable to help his impertinence, Sir Tracy asked, "If you'll forgive this question, in the spirit of our confidential discussion…"
"Yes?"
"Is it your desire to spend more time with Commander Verde?"
The Queen looked down, away from his fatherly gaze; suddenly finding her tightly held hands upon her lap very interesting. "Am I that transparent?" she asked in a timid tone.
Any delight he held at guessing accurately vanished because of her mortified reaction. "Only to those who know you and care about your well-being, Majesty," Sir Tracy said in a deferential tone. "My apologies for causing you any discomfort."
She raised her hand to forestall any further apologies, and her quotidian, regal composure returned. "It's quite all right, Sir Tracy. I know you meant no disrespect." With a deep sigh, she continued, "For reasons passing understanding, I find myself… preoccupied with this gentleman. I'd like to know more about him."
He listened, but offered nothing in response as she collected her thoughts.
Finally, she admitted, "It's quite difficult for someone of my… station… to pursue anyone without it becoming a matter for the tabloids and Parliament."
"A unique problem, ma'am," he concurred sadly. "If I could be of service to you in this endeavour…?"
"Really?" she fired back quickly.
He smiled warmly. "If it is within my power, ma'am, I offer it to you."
"Why?"
"If you'll forgive me this one indulgence?" At her nod, he continued with his explanation. "For years, since taking over this position, I have never once seen you in this light before. Your Majesty has always been consumed by duty, and if I'm honest, I think that if there's any chance that you might find happiness… even for a moment… then I would be more than happy to assist."
"Thank you, Sir Tracy," she replied, a toothy smile splitting her lips as she conveyed her appreciation. "Please tell no one?"
"As I said earlier, I consider it a Crown Secret, ma'am."
"Thank you," she repeated, then rose to her feet. "Off you go, then."
Amelia, to his surprise, wore a matching set of sweatshirt and sweatpants; alarmingly anachronistic from a societal standpoint. They were heather gray, with Federation blue lettering that spelled out the words "Starfleet Academy, Est. 2161" and the Academy's logo on the front. The left pant leg had similar lettering.
He cleared his throat to catch her attention. "Good morning, Majesty."
She took delight in his slight, yet unmistakable discomfort. "Good morning, Sir Robert. Something on your mind?"
"Well, erm… your fashion this morning is, shall we say… atypical for the morning," he said as he recovered his ordinary equanimity.
"Admiral Essa sent these as part of a gift package of Starfleet-themed items. I thought I would try them on this morning and I love how comfortable they feel. Far superior to my dressing gown," she said with a proud grin on her lips. She settled into her desk chair and happily set the plate holding her favorite croissant, a variety of fruit preserves, and a pad of butter.
He cleared his throat once more and took the seat across the desk from her; remaining in the study in the case she should need his services. "I'm sure that they are most comfortable, ma'am. However, I hope you do not intend to wear that outside of your rooms."
"I don't wear my dressing gown outside of my rooms, either, Robert. And I'm not a child."
"No, ma'am, I did not intend to treat you as one."
"Good, because that would ruin my cheerful mood this morning." She reached for the PADD and set it top its stand with a wry smile, seeing as how the PADD itself represented a much stronger anachronism than her sweats did. The thought left her mind as quickly as it entered, and she activated the screen, using the biometric authentication to unlock it.
Amelia always skimmed through the index of government reports and advisories, hoping to avoid any inauspicious findings at the bottom. Halfway down, a subject header jumped out at her, as it had to do with the Starfleet Task Force operating in their territory, referencing a skirmish with Kzinti forces.
She brought her marmalade'd croissant to her lips to take a bite with one hand, and tapped open the report with the other. As Amy's eyes read through the contents of the detailed report, they widened significantly and her jaw tightened to prevent any further chewing. She set down her breakfast pastry on the plate and held the device with both hands, giving the words her full attention.
"Has Sir Tracy seen this report?" asked Amy, turning the screen around to show him the subject line.
Sir Robert sat upright in this seat and narrowed his eyes at the text. "I would presume so, ma'am."
"Then I should like a meeting with him later today, if you please."
Commodore Sir Tracy Newby arrived in the castle's library ahead of their arranged meeting time. He loved the smell of the book collection passed through the generations of the Fitzwilliam family. He spied tomes and treatise once belonging to the Queens and Kings of the Realm, stretching back to the twenty-second century. Among those bound treasures, he knew that Queen Victoria's original plan for the capital city of the colony, then named 'Greenbriar' and later renamed to 'Victoria' in her honor after her passing. Those plans resided within that very room, touched by her hands, and bore her signature as the then-Duchess of the colony.
He heard the clicking of heels along the wood flooring in the oldest part of the castle just outside the library's doors, knowing who approached. Sir Tracy rose to his feet as the large doors parted to admit Victoria's three-times great-granddaughter, Amelia.
"Your Majesty," he greeted with a bow of his head and eyes closed.
"Sir Tracy," she replied, offering her head to him. "So good of you to come on short notice."
He shook his head after taking her hand briefly. "I am always at your disposal, ma'am. How might I be of service to you this morning?"
Amelia sat in her favorite chair; the overstuffed armchair that her father always used when he chose to seclude himself amongst the stacks. "There was a report from the Navy outlining a skirmish involving Proteus. What do you know of it?"
"Ma'am, I read the brief this morning, as you have. I made some calls to Admiralty House when Sir Robert informed me you wish to discuss the matter. My understanding from the Third Naval Lord, is that Proteus is undergoing extensive repairs at Gibraltar's drydock facility, and they project it will be at least three weeks before she is made space-worthy again."
She listened and then nodded. "I see. What of the personnel? I read they took heavy losses when the Kzin boarded."
"They did, ma'am. Of the 212 aboard, 122 souls perished in defense of the ship, including seven warrants, two of the three midshipmen, and the lieutenant commanding the marines. Forty-eight sustained wounds in combat, including all three commissioned officers aboard. I'm told Dame Stacy will make a full recovery, however, she is in hospital on Gibraltar for observation as she sustained a plasma shot to her heart and lungs."
She closed her eyes, hearing the number of losses. "And the Starfleet personnel?"
"No losses, ma'am. The Federation starship Yukikaze, Fleet Captain Toland commanding, transported their entire marine company to reinforce the Royal Marines in defence of Proteus. The starship Surprise, Captain Goldsberry commanding, sent engineers and marines to help shore up damage so they could rig for FTL towing to the starbase. Both starships also offered their full medical facilities to support Doctor Farrell's efforts to save as many of the crew as possible. Their work prevented the loss of twenty-three."
"Commendable. Does the First Naval Lord intend to recognize the efforts of the Starfleet personnel who directly contributed to the defence?"
Sir Tracy blinked. "I'm afraid I did not enquire, ma'am, but I would imagine that through the chain of command, Dame Stacy would write several nominations for those under her command."
Satisfied, Amelia noted, "Very well. I will leave that to the Navy to determine. However, I should like for you to determine whether there might be honours to be conferred at my level considering these valorous acts."
"As you wish, ma'am," he said with a bow of his head in response to her command.
"I have one more question for you," she said, hesitantly. "And please keep this in the strictest of confidence."
"This entire conversation is classified under the Crown Secrets Act, ma'am," he reminded her.
She smiled. "I understand, however, I daresay this next question shall be rather compromising…"
He was unsure how to respond. Instead, he dipped his head downward once more to show his compliance.
Amy reached up to touch the strands of her jet black hair. "Please tell me what happened with Commander Verde?"
Sir Tracy forced himself not to smile. "Of course, ma'am." He tapped his PADD and called up the information contained in Dame Stacy's preliminary report, then recounted her words, documenting his actions during the fight. How he worked to save Lieutenant Andry's life, rescued crewmembers prone on the deck, worked with the second officer to secure the ship, and finally, standing watches in command when no other officers could. "He worked with the aforementioned Starfleet captains to arrange for repairs and rigging for the tow. Once he arrived at Gibraltar, Admiral Essa recalled him to deliver his report in person. The First Naval Lord has informed me she will share his report as soon as possible."
She wore a wide smile, hearing of his deeds. She cleared her throat when he finished his briefing. "Erm, he… survived without injury?" Her voice betrayed her hopeful expectation.
"Yes, ma'am. Doctor Farrell expressed her thanks to him for his work on Leftenant Andry. According to her report, Commander Verde carried him down to the sickbay so she could repair his traumas."
"Then, I'm to assume he has returned to Farragut?"
"That is correct, ma'am," Sir Tracy confirmed. "He reported back aboard late last night."
Amy considered that information, bringing her hands down to her lap and clasping all of her fingers together. Her eyes steeled, and she settled a smiling gaze upon Sir Tracy. "As I'm unable to make a personal visit without causing a massive disturbance, could I trouble you to look in on him on my behalf?"
He took notes and hid his smile behind the top of his PADD. "Happy to, ma'am. Is there any message you wish for me to convey?"
She paused. Her eyes stared off toward the wall behind him, and she jumped from her seat. He rose out of respect for her and watched as she moved to the desk her late father had placed in the room when he spent a majority of his time in the library. A slip of paper with her Royal Cypher of a crowned letter A in the upper corner appeared from one of the desk's drawers. She scribbled out a single sentence and then crumpled the page.
Another page, another scribble, and another crumple followed.
She took in a deep breath and closed her eyes. At last, she chose her idea, penned it in two sentences, signed it, and placed it in a small envelope. Then, the Queen walked to him and offered it to him.
Amy blushed as she spoke. "This message, specifically, if you please."
"Of course, ma'am," he replied, accepting the missive and placing it in his uniform jacket's interior breast pocket. "Shall I wait for his response?"
She fidgeted. The wildly uncharacteristic act from the Queen caused Sir Tracy to stare wide-eyed. "I, erm, no-yes-no… yes. Please return here, directly, once he does so." They retook their seats.
"Yes, ma'am." Unable to help his impertinence, Sir Tracy asked, "If you'll forgive this question, in the spirit of our confidential discussion…"
"Yes?"
"Is it your desire to spend more time with Commander Verde?"
The Queen looked down, away from his fatherly gaze; suddenly finding her tightly held hands upon her lap very interesting. "Am I that transparent?" she asked in a timid tone.
Any delight he held at guessing accurately vanished because of her mortified reaction. "Only to those who know you and care about your well-being, Majesty," Sir Tracy said in a deferential tone. "My apologies for causing you any discomfort."
She raised her hand to forestall any further apologies, and her quotidian, regal composure returned. "It's quite all right, Sir Tracy. I know you meant no disrespect." With a deep sigh, she continued, "For reasons passing understanding, I find myself… preoccupied with this gentleman. I'd like to know more about him."
He listened, but offered nothing in response as she collected her thoughts.
Finally, she admitted, "It's quite difficult for someone of my… station… to pursue anyone without it becoming a matter for the tabloids and Parliament."
"A unique problem, ma'am," he concurred sadly. "If I could be of service to you in this endeavour…?"
"Really?" she fired back quickly.
He smiled warmly. "If it is within my power, ma'am, I offer it to you."
"Why?"
"If you'll forgive me this one indulgence?" At her nod, he continued with his explanation. "For years, since taking over this position, I have never once seen you in this light before. Your Majesty has always been consumed by duty, and if I'm honest, I think that if there's any chance that you might find happiness… even for a moment… then I would be more than happy to assist."
"Thank you, Sir Tracy," she replied, a toothy smile splitting her lips as she conveyed her appreciation. "Please tell no one?"
"As I said earlier, I consider it a Crown Secret, ma'am."
"Thank you," she repeated, then rose to her feet. "Off you go, then."
Delightful little flirtation. Leo's never been in so much danger... Thanks!! rbs
I'm partly excited, partly terrified to see this story continue - as much as I want to see Leo get a little romance among everything else going on, I remember a comment in one of the chronologically-later stories about 'everything that happened at Greenwood'...
Is Leo destined for heartbreak as well as battle scars?
Is Leo destined for heartbreak as well as battle scars?
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Yeah, I get what you're saying.
I'm sure how it's going to badly but it's become increasingly obvious that it is.
I'm sure how it's going to badly but it's become increasingly obvious that it is.
In response to the above trepidation: Yes, given that there are later stories that refer (ambiguously) back to the events on Greenwood, it's pretty clear that Leo's not Prince Consort or anything by 2322 (4 years later). I'll only admit that 2318 is a VERY interesting year in Leo's life.
Your responses/feedback make writing this an absolute delight, so keep the comments coming!
Your responses/feedback make writing this an absolute delight, so keep the comments coming!
"It would appear Sir Tracy is transiting to Hestia, now, Your Grace."
Her Grace, Isabella Pennington, The Duchess of Pennington, Knight Grand Cross of the Most Noble Order of King Edward (GCE), Dame Commander of the Most Excellent Order of the Silver Crescent (KCSC), and Companion of the Order of the Verdant Quill (CVQ), did not lift her eyes as she listened to the report from her private secretary, Dame Heather Howard DSC. The Duchess continued to read the digital display on her PADD, recounting the events of the battle with the Kzinti ships in the outer system. She paid special attention to any mention of Commander Leo Verde within the news story.
Dame Heather remained standing, patiently awaiting the response from her charge before saying or doing anything further.
Lazily, the contralto voice of the Duchess asked, "And your contacts can confirm that the Queen is showing interest?"
"With differing degrees of certainty, Your Grace," replied Dame Heather.
Lady Isabella frowned deeply at the confirmation. "Have you informed the Count?" she wondered in the same inattentive tone.
"No, Your Grace," came the hesitant reply. "I wished to inform you, first, if you should wish any action taken."
"No," replied Lady Isabella quickly. "No action. But inform the Count, if you please. He may wish to have that information as it impacts his plans."
Dame Heather nodded silently, but instead of making a move to leave and carry out the Duchess' wishes, she held her stance until she saw the dismissing wave. Then, she quickly disappeared from view, moving from the Duchess' solarium and into the other parts of the family's castle along the waters of the River Kent.
Locating the Count of Berkshire, even under the best of circumstances, was no easy task. The Duchess' second son earned his peerage through his military heroics only three years prior.
"How is it that with modern technology, this man manages to elude every attempt to locate him?" Dame Heather groused as she entered her office. Her assistant, Miss Juliet Forsythe, followed inside.
Forsythe grinned at her superior's annoyance. "He is a well-trained Royal Marine officer, mum. If they don't wish to be found, they know full well how to accomplish their task."
"He's not in the bloody Marines anymore!"
"I believe the Count would disagree on that point. 'Once a marine, always a marine,' is the saying, as I understand it."
Dame Heather scowled. "The Count will lament not being at-hand, I should think."
"Trouble with this Commander Verde?" ventured Forsythe, though she already knew the truth. Her specialty, and the reason for her hire, lay in the years of intelligence gathering on behalf of the civilian agencies of Her Majesty's Government.
"Indeed." Dame Heather slumped down into the seat behind her desk and sighed. "If they truly wish to consolidate their power with the Royal House of Fitzwilliam, then we need to work hard to head off any progress at a relationship between Her Majesty and this upstart Starfleeter." Having vented out all her frustrations of the moment, her countenance softened as she stared at Forsythe. "Be a dear, fetch the Count for me?"
Miss Juliet beamed. "With pleasure, mum." Without a moment's hesitation, she touched her arm and disappeared within the shimmering light of a transporter beam.
Dame Heather let out a heavy sigh. "Frightening woman."
Within the flag mess, Rear Admiral Essa nibbled on a torn-piece of her croissant while Leo sat across from her digging into a more substantial breakfast of scrambled eggs, sausages, and toast. She noticed he did not seem to enjoy his meal as he had previously. "Something wrong?"
Leo looked up at her, then sighed. "After eating organics for the past eight days, I can understand why some say that there's a marked difference. I can't put my finger on why, though."
"There's a visceral difference, if I had to describe it," she replied, sipping at her tea. She set the cup down on the accompanying saucer. As he continued to eat, she offered a muted comment: "I read your report earlier."
He slowed his chewing motion at her admission, then inclined his head. He continued eating his meal without responding.
"Are you feeling alright?" she inquired, softening her tone to that of a concerned member of his family.
Leo finished his bite, then washed it down with his own cup of tea. After setting his fork down on the table and wiping his hand on the napkin over his thighs, he told her. "I had some difficulties getting to sleep last night, but a soak in the tub helped."
"Do you want to talk about it?" she asked from behind her cup.
He admitted, "I'm still processing what happened… I mean, I've been on hot boardings before. When we patrolled the border, you see a lot..."
"Certainly," she agreed, her tone prompting him to expand further.
"This was different, though."
"In what way?"
"We were being boarded," he replied, his eyes staring at the table. "It was… brutal. People dying all around me and the Kzin were like Klingons in hand-to-hand; ruthless. They meant to kill everyone aboard. It was nothing less than a fight for survival."
As he spoke, she listened to his tone turn haunted. "I'm sorry you had to go through that. It reminds me of the worst bits of our bouts with the Gorn."
"Dad doesn't talk about that much," Leo noted. "I think I now understand why." He picked up his fork and returned to his breakfast, showing through his body language that he no longer wanted to recall those fresh memories.
Essa sat silently, allowing Leo to eat in peace. She poured herself another cup of tea, flavored it with a little milk, and then watched the cloudiness settle within the now-tannish liquid. In the private compartment, the only audible sound was the scrape of a fork on a plate.
The door chime sounded, and Essa called out, "Come."
Lieutenant Avarila entered, carrying her PADD under her arm. "Pardon the interruption, sirs."
"Not at all," Essa replied, wearing a welcoming grin.
"There's a Royal Navy commodore waiting outside, sir," Avarila said plainly. "He wishes to speak with Commander Verde." Her eyes drifted to Leo as she explained.
Leo looked up from his plate in surprise. "Me?"
"Yes, Commander," Avarila said. "He says he's the Queen's Naval Advisor, and this is in relation to the Proteus incident."
Essa cast a questioning glance at Leo, who shrugged. "If he doesn't mind me eating while we talk…?"
Avarila furrowed her brow. "I wouldn't think so. Should I sent the steward in, just in case?"
The admiral set her cup down and nodded. "Yes, to both, please. Thank you."
The flag lieutenant disappeared behind the door briefly before returning with a fatherly-looking gentleman in an ornate Royal Navy flag officer's uniform, replete with broad stripes and buttons running down the front of the jacket. His sandy-brown hair carried patches of gray at the temples, and he wore an affable smile as he entered.
"My sincere apologies for interrupting your breakfast, Admiral, Commander," said Sir Tracy as he entered.
Leo rose from his seat, while Essa held her cup in front of her and replied, "Think nothing of it, Commodore…?" she prompted for an introduction.
"I am Commodore Sir Tracy Newby, Her Majesty's Naval Advisor," he introduced with a slight bow from the hips. "I'm afraid I've not had the pleasure of making your acquaintance, Admiral."
"Rear Admiral Neema Essa," she said with a smile. "Starfleet Task Force Seventeen."
"Commander Leo Verde, Task Force Judge Advocate," Leo followed.
"And my nephew," Essa quickly added with pride.
Sir Tracy's eyes shifted between Leo and Essa, confusion evident from his expression as Essa's dark complexion and Leo's medium skin seemed too disparate to speak to any sort of familial connection. "Erm, I see." He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled an envelope from it, offering it to Leo. "With Her Majesty's compliments, Commander."
Leo blinked, peering down at the envelope. "Uh, thank you," he said, accepting the envelope and opening it. "Won't you join us for some tea, sir?"
Essa grimaced as she forgot her manners. Recovering with a warm smile, she added, "Yes, please join us, Sir Tracy."
"Thank you, no. I must be returning to Her Majesty's side," he explained. "However, I am commanded to wait for a response…"
He skimmed the few lines of her note and smirked. On the second go, he gazed at the commodore and nodded. "Please inform Her Majesty that my response is 'with pleasure.'"
Sir Tracy grinned. "Excellent! The Master of the House will be in touch with you on particular, Commander." He turned back to Essa. "By your leave, Admiral?"
Essa rose from her seat. "Of course, Sir Tracy. Thank you for your kind visit."
"My pleasure, sir," he said before parting company and leaving for the corridor.
When the door slid shut behind him, Essa asked, unable to contain her curiosity, "So… what did she say?"
Leo handed over the note for her to read:
Her Grace, Isabella Pennington, The Duchess of Pennington, Knight Grand Cross of the Most Noble Order of King Edward (GCE), Dame Commander of the Most Excellent Order of the Silver Crescent (KCSC), and Companion of the Order of the Verdant Quill (CVQ), did not lift her eyes as she listened to the report from her private secretary, Dame Heather Howard DSC. The Duchess continued to read the digital display on her PADD, recounting the events of the battle with the Kzinti ships in the outer system. She paid special attention to any mention of Commander Leo Verde within the news story.
Dame Heather remained standing, patiently awaiting the response from her charge before saying or doing anything further.
Lazily, the contralto voice of the Duchess asked, "And your contacts can confirm that the Queen is showing interest?"
"With differing degrees of certainty, Your Grace," replied Dame Heather.
Lady Isabella frowned deeply at the confirmation. "Have you informed the Count?" she wondered in the same inattentive tone.
"No, Your Grace," came the hesitant reply. "I wished to inform you, first, if you should wish any action taken."
"No," replied Lady Isabella quickly. "No action. But inform the Count, if you please. He may wish to have that information as it impacts his plans."
Dame Heather nodded silently, but instead of making a move to leave and carry out the Duchess' wishes, she held her stance until she saw the dismissing wave. Then, she quickly disappeared from view, moving from the Duchess' solarium and into the other parts of the family's castle along the waters of the River Kent.
Locating the Count of Berkshire, even under the best of circumstances, was no easy task. The Duchess' second son earned his peerage through his military heroics only three years prior.
"How is it that with modern technology, this man manages to elude every attempt to locate him?" Dame Heather groused as she entered her office. Her assistant, Miss Juliet Forsythe, followed inside.
Forsythe grinned at her superior's annoyance. "He is a well-trained Royal Marine officer, mum. If they don't wish to be found, they know full well how to accomplish their task."
"He's not in the bloody Marines anymore!"
"I believe the Count would disagree on that point. 'Once a marine, always a marine,' is the saying, as I understand it."
Dame Heather scowled. "The Count will lament not being at-hand, I should think."
"Trouble with this Commander Verde?" ventured Forsythe, though she already knew the truth. Her specialty, and the reason for her hire, lay in the years of intelligence gathering on behalf of the civilian agencies of Her Majesty's Government.
"Indeed." Dame Heather slumped down into the seat behind her desk and sighed. "If they truly wish to consolidate their power with the Royal House of Fitzwilliam, then we need to work hard to head off any progress at a relationship between Her Majesty and this upstart Starfleeter." Having vented out all her frustrations of the moment, her countenance softened as she stared at Forsythe. "Be a dear, fetch the Count for me?"
Miss Juliet beamed. "With pleasure, mum." Without a moment's hesitation, she touched her arm and disappeared within the shimmering light of a transporter beam.
Dame Heather let out a heavy sigh. "Frightening woman."
Within the flag mess, Rear Admiral Essa nibbled on a torn-piece of her croissant while Leo sat across from her digging into a more substantial breakfast of scrambled eggs, sausages, and toast. She noticed he did not seem to enjoy his meal as he had previously. "Something wrong?"
Leo looked up at her, then sighed. "After eating organics for the past eight days, I can understand why some say that there's a marked difference. I can't put my finger on why, though."
"There's a visceral difference, if I had to describe it," she replied, sipping at her tea. She set the cup down on the accompanying saucer. As he continued to eat, she offered a muted comment: "I read your report earlier."
He slowed his chewing motion at her admission, then inclined his head. He continued eating his meal without responding.
"Are you feeling alright?" she inquired, softening her tone to that of a concerned member of his family.
Leo finished his bite, then washed it down with his own cup of tea. After setting his fork down on the table and wiping his hand on the napkin over his thighs, he told her. "I had some difficulties getting to sleep last night, but a soak in the tub helped."
"Do you want to talk about it?" she asked from behind her cup.
He admitted, "I'm still processing what happened… I mean, I've been on hot boardings before. When we patrolled the border, you see a lot..."
"Certainly," she agreed, her tone prompting him to expand further.
"This was different, though."
"In what way?"
"We were being boarded," he replied, his eyes staring at the table. "It was… brutal. People dying all around me and the Kzin were like Klingons in hand-to-hand; ruthless. They meant to kill everyone aboard. It was nothing less than a fight for survival."
As he spoke, she listened to his tone turn haunted. "I'm sorry you had to go through that. It reminds me of the worst bits of our bouts with the Gorn."
"Dad doesn't talk about that much," Leo noted. "I think I now understand why." He picked up his fork and returned to his breakfast, showing through his body language that he no longer wanted to recall those fresh memories.
Essa sat silently, allowing Leo to eat in peace. She poured herself another cup of tea, flavored it with a little milk, and then watched the cloudiness settle within the now-tannish liquid. In the private compartment, the only audible sound was the scrape of a fork on a plate.
The door chime sounded, and Essa called out, "Come."
Lieutenant Avarila entered, carrying her PADD under her arm. "Pardon the interruption, sirs."
"Not at all," Essa replied, wearing a welcoming grin.
"There's a Royal Navy commodore waiting outside, sir," Avarila said plainly. "He wishes to speak with Commander Verde." Her eyes drifted to Leo as she explained.
Leo looked up from his plate in surprise. "Me?"
"Yes, Commander," Avarila said. "He says he's the Queen's Naval Advisor, and this is in relation to the Proteus incident."
Essa cast a questioning glance at Leo, who shrugged. "If he doesn't mind me eating while we talk…?"
Avarila furrowed her brow. "I wouldn't think so. Should I sent the steward in, just in case?"
The admiral set her cup down and nodded. "Yes, to both, please. Thank you."
The flag lieutenant disappeared behind the door briefly before returning with a fatherly-looking gentleman in an ornate Royal Navy flag officer's uniform, replete with broad stripes and buttons running down the front of the jacket. His sandy-brown hair carried patches of gray at the temples, and he wore an affable smile as he entered.
"My sincere apologies for interrupting your breakfast, Admiral, Commander," said Sir Tracy as he entered.
Leo rose from his seat, while Essa held her cup in front of her and replied, "Think nothing of it, Commodore…?" she prompted for an introduction.
"I am Commodore Sir Tracy Newby, Her Majesty's Naval Advisor," he introduced with a slight bow from the hips. "I'm afraid I've not had the pleasure of making your acquaintance, Admiral."
"Rear Admiral Neema Essa," she said with a smile. "Starfleet Task Force Seventeen."
"Commander Leo Verde, Task Force Judge Advocate," Leo followed.
"And my nephew," Essa quickly added with pride.
Sir Tracy's eyes shifted between Leo and Essa, confusion evident from his expression as Essa's dark complexion and Leo's medium skin seemed too disparate to speak to any sort of familial connection. "Erm, I see." He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled an envelope from it, offering it to Leo. "With Her Majesty's compliments, Commander."
Leo blinked, peering down at the envelope. "Uh, thank you," he said, accepting the envelope and opening it. "Won't you join us for some tea, sir?"
Essa grimaced as she forgot her manners. Recovering with a warm smile, she added, "Yes, please join us, Sir Tracy."
"Thank you, no. I must be returning to Her Majesty's side," he explained. "However, I am commanded to wait for a response…"
He skimmed the few lines of her note and smirked. On the second go, he gazed at the commodore and nodded. "Please inform Her Majesty that my response is 'with pleasure.'"
Sir Tracy grinned. "Excellent! The Master of the House will be in touch with you on particular, Commander." He turned back to Essa. "By your leave, Admiral?"
Essa rose from her seat. "Of course, Sir Tracy. Thank you for your kind visit."
"My pleasure, sir," he said before parting company and leaving for the corridor.
When the door slid shut behind him, Essa asked, unable to contain her curiosity, "So… what did she say?"
Leo handed over the note for her to read:
End of Part Ten
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As a point of reference, there are a TON of post-nominal letters I've introduced for the Sovereign Realm of Greenwood. I want to share a little of the world-building I've done to kind of explain what they mean. I'll start with the Dynastic and Chivalric Orders:
Those of different genders of rank "Knight" or higher may opt to use "Dame" as the honorific, and "D" as the post-nominal designator, or in some case, may choose to use both K or D, or Sir or Dame, as they feel comfortable. Alternatively, the honorific may simply be "Knight" in the case of non-binary honorees.
- The Royal Order of Queen Victoria: Awarded for distinguished personal service to the monarch, members of the royal family, or to any viceroy or senior representative of the monarch. Appointments are made at the discretion of the Sovereign. Ranks in this order are Member (MV), Companion (CV), Officer (OV), Lieutenant (LV), Knight (KV), Knight Commander (KCV), and Knight Grand Cross (GCV).
- The Most Noble Order of King Edward: Awarded in recognition of national contribution, service to the Crown, or for distinguished personal service to the Monarch. Appointments are made at the discretion of the Sovereign. Ranks in this order are Member (ME), Companion (CE), Officer (OE), Knight (KE), Knight Commander (KCE), and Knight Grand Cross (GCE).
- The Most Distinguished Order of the Oak: Awarded in recognition of distinguished active service within the military of Greenwood. Appointments are made by the Sovereign on the advice of HM Government. Ranks in this order are Officer (OO), Lieutenant (LO), Major (MO), Colonel (CO), Knight (KO), Knight Commander (KCO), and Knight Grand Cross (GCO).
- The Most Excellent Order of the Silver Crescent: Awarded in recognition of diplomatic or foreign service. Appointments are made by the Sovereign on the advice of HM Government. Ranks in this order are Member (MSC), Companion (CSC), Knight (KSC), Knight Commander (KCSC), and Knight Grand Cross (GCSC).
- The Order of the Verdant Quill: Awarded in recognition of cultural contributions or achievements to the nation. Appointments are made by the Sovereign on the advice of HM Government. Ranks in this order are Member (MVQ), Companion (CVQ), and Knight (KVQ).
- The Order of Honour: Awarded in recognition of having made a major contribution to the arts, science, medicine, or government lasting over a long period of time. Appointments are made by the Sovereign on the advice of HM Government. Ranks in this order are Member (MH), Companion (CH), Knight (KH), Knight Commander (KCH), and Knight Grand Cross (KGC).
Those of different genders of rank "Knight" or higher may opt to use "Dame" as the honorific, and "D" as the post-nominal designator, or in some case, may choose to use both K or D, or Sir or Dame, as they feel comfortable. Alternatively, the honorific may simply be "Knight" in the case of non-binary honorees.
And the plots thicken... Thanks!! rbs
In line with an old post on this thread, I thought I'd offer some feedback considering traditional IRL practices, as before whether these apply for your purposes is of course up to you.
Unless maybe (it doesn't really happen IRL, but isn't prohibited) she is a Duchess by marriage and holds a lesser title (particularly if judicial rather than noble), then it is unlikely that someone would be both "Her Grace" and "Lady" (her/your ladyship when addressed directly, usually) and if she is, then the titles are the wrong way around it. Typical form would be "Her Grace, The Duchess of Pennington" but "Her Grace Isabella, The Duchess of Pennington" for someone who holds the title of duchess either in her own right or by marriage who has never been within two generations of (the direct) line of succession (in which case, she would be HRH while married or widowed, but not divorced (the same applies to the HG if not).
Depending on IRL equivalent, there may be a few too many grades here, but all are essentially plausible.
Order of the Garter
Again, a lot of grades there, but all are plausible.
At best, these are in the wrong order, as Knight would be below Major and Colonel in social precedence, and the latter two are unprecedented IRL (Knight Commander is basically their equivalent). Five grades is probably about right though.
Both seems very unlikely, and as noted previously the title and the post-nominal should match, but Knight is probably the presumptive and appropriate in this context for non-binaries as well (the best of the alternatives "Ser" has issues of it's own) with only honorees that strongly identify as female opting for "Dame" and "Dx".
There may also be a singular and standalone "knighthood", Knight Bachelor (post-nominal Kt), for junior appointments. An IRL equivalent for women doesn't exist but "Dame Bachelorette or Dame Spinster (Dm, DB or DS) might not be inappropriate if desired.
Some orders (particularly the "personal gift" ones) also have an associated Medal of the X Order or X Order Medal) as an approximate equivalent of the above which grants a Post-Nominal but not a suffix.
Unless maybe (it doesn't really happen IRL, but isn't prohibited) she is a Duchess by marriage and holds a lesser title (particularly if judicial rather than noble), then it is unlikely that someone would be both "Her Grace" and "Lady" (her/your ladyship when addressed directly, usually) and if she is, then the titles are the wrong way around it. Typical form would be "Her Grace, The Duchess of Pennington" but "Her Grace Isabella, The Duchess of Pennington" for someone who holds the title of duchess either in her own right or by marriage who has never been within two generations of (the direct) line of succession (in which case, she would be HRH while married or widowed, but not divorced (the same applies to the HG if not).
Depending on IRL equivalent, there may be a few too many grades here, but all are essentially plausible.
Order of the Garter
Again, a lot of grades there, but all are plausible.
At best, these are in the wrong order, as Knight would be below Major and Colonel in social precedence, and the latter two are unprecedented IRL (Knight Commander is basically their equivalent). Five grades is probably about right though.
Both seems very unlikely, and as noted previously the title and the post-nominal should match, but Knight is probably the presumptive and appropriate in this context for non-binaries as well (the best of the alternatives "Ser" has issues of it's own) with only honorees that strongly identify as female opting for "Dame" and "Dx".
There may also be a singular and standalone "knighthood", Knight Bachelor (post-nominal Kt), for junior appointments. An IRL equivalent for women doesn't exist but "Dame Bachelorette or Dame Spinster (Dm, DB or DS) might not be inappropriate if desired.
Some orders (particularly the "personal gift" ones) also have an associated Medal of the X Order or X Order Medal) as an approximate equivalent of the above which grants a Post-Nominal but not a suffix.
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