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USS Kestrel - Hunting Grounds

* * *
* * *​

Office of the Chief Medical Officer

Noah Cutler leaned back in his chair. Judy, Dr. Judith Monroe, smiled ruefully from the other end of her table. Her tale had sufficiently engrossed the young ensign and he blew out an amazed air. “I can hardly believe it.”

“Are you calling me a liar, Mr Cutler?”

“No, no.” He protested before a sly grin spread across the CMO’s face. “Only, you met Captain McGregor when you were a child? Forgive me but that was ...”

Monroe gave a look that brokered no figure be attached to the end of that sentence. She opted instead to finish for him. “More than ten years ago.” She gave a little smile at her own humour. “Yes, I was a little girl when I met the captain and as you can easily calculate the ages don’t match up. That would be part of the ‘Event’ tale nobody seems to get around to telling you. Regardless, the captain and the then crew of the Kestrel came to the rescue of my world.”

“And that made you want to become a doctor.”

“Yes. In part anyway. One of the things that became painfully obvious in the days that followed the attack was how under resourced the colony had been in medical care. Both in provisions and in expertise. The Kestrel remained in orbit for some days, even weeks until a relief vessel came to offer more long-term assistance. But they rolled up their sleeves with the farmers of the planet and helped to drag away the burned ruins of farmhouses and the debris of the town. They set up temporary health centres across the planet to help the many injured. They also helped to lay the foundations for a new and improved general hospital at the capital town. As well as providing weapon upgrades to planetary defences and scanning abilities.”

Cutler’s brow furrowed at that last detail. “I didn’t think it was in the remit of the Border Patrol Service to offer such services.”

“It isn’t.” She spread her hands unequivocally.

“But then.”

“But they bent the rules. When stalwarts like Donald Stewart, and yes even my father, raised their voices about how long the response to the attack had been, the captain of the vessel accepted the charge graciously. Only later did we learn of the fact that the Kestrel had exceeded the specs of her engines, defied safety protocols and effectively ruined her engines to make the charge to the planet’s defence.”

Noah nodded his head to concur with her points. “You see ensign, despite the risk to themselves, despite the fact had they showed up later than they did and had good cause to excuse themselves, the crew of that ship – this ship – could not accept that. They defied the odds, knowing every minute counted. That’s something to be admired is it not?”

Embarrassed he gulped nervously at his lack of pride in his posting. In all honesty, he had seen it as a step down from serving with the Fleet proper. “Yes it is.”

“Don’t get me wrong. The Fleeters similarly charge to the rescue of many worlds. They do many amazing things. But I think it’s a sacred vocation for those who serve a Border patrol vessel. It’s their mission, their brief, their charge to be the protectors of the Federation’s borders, to safeguard the inhabitants of the frontier worlds. Nothing is more precious or central to our beliefs. Even as a child, I admired that. In the days that followed, and evidence by the work and support the crew provided, I was only more convinced.”

Judith went to the replicator and produced a glass of water for herself. She took a delicate sip from the cool water before seating herself and continuing.

“Not that everyone was happy about the help offered. Captain Devlin himself was reluctant to effectively arm a planet but a certain CPO made a very forceful argument. The fact McGregor made it in front of colonists amid the ruined council hall made it all the more compelling.” She wagged a finger at Noah. “One thing you’ll learn about McGregor is that he has impeccable timing.”

“Like showing up to rescue you, with an umbrella in hand.”

Judith laughed at the memory. “Ah yes. I remember my father bringing me back up to the mountain refuge after McGregor and Rah had disappeared off. By the time we climbed uphill and reached the refuge, the morning light was beginning to flood the plains and the rains had started to pour. Upon the higher levels of the mountain top we were thankfully excused the worst of the heavy downpours. There we found the remnants forming together to gather our meagre possessions and supplies. Crew from the Kestrel assisting and offering first aid.

“I rushed into my Grandmamma’s arms upon seeing her safe. Safe but scolding. Oh and berating all. Most especially, a certain rough cheeked CPO. She was haranguing McGregor something awful. He of course was telling the ‘old bat’ to ‘cork it’. She wasn’t inclined to listen.”

Noah remarked that that mustn’t have gone over well with the captain.

“It certainly didn’t. However, he told me years later that he respected the old biddy’s resolve. That was of course before I introduced him to her again. I don’t know which one got the bigger shock after all those years to see the other was alive and kicking. I think the captain’s words were, ‘Figures the old battle axe wouldn’t die. Who’d have her in heaven or hell?’ A comment my Grandmamma overheard and chased him out of the house for, despite an age of a hundred twenty odd.”

Noah was trying to imagine an OAP giving chase to McGregor.

“I don’t know anyone else who discomfited the captain more than my Grandmamma, save for Mary Stewart. It was she who had to separate the two of them that night. Reminding my Grandmamma that it was McGregor who had beamed right into the fray when the two of them were about to be mauled by Nausicaan when they had been cornered in the attack. Apparently, Mary had put up a defiant stand walloping the attacking Nausicaans with her umbrella before McGregor materialised to save the day. Actually it was her umbrella that McGregor held in his hand that night. Somehow, in the scrabble with their attackers, McGregor had gained possession of it and wielded it as a sword in his attack back, before chasing off in our direction with it still in hand.”

Eyes wide, Noah asked astonished. “Is it the same umbrella then?”

“As remarkable as it seems, yes it is. It travelled with McGregor through time and space. Mary Stewart gave McGregor the umbrella to keep by ways of a thank you.” Judith recalled the scene vividly for the surreal setting after the horrors of the night.

“A dainty little thing that is. Very handy. Especially on a rainy day.”

She declared proudly, “Not just any rainy day Mr McGregor. That umbrella is for a rainy day on Ponthoon. The deluge of our morning rains can be very forceful, as can the evening winds. For that reason, my Donald got me this especially constructed umbrella.” At this, she gave her bruised and bloodied husband a kiss. “Always has been romantic like that. That umbrella mind, is strong enough to withstand any gale force wind.”

Donald grumbled under his breath being embarrassed so. All the more damming for being done in front of people, especially the Starfleet crew. Mary gave him an admonishing look when he tried to shake off the Vulcan ensign attending his minor injuries.

McGregor gave Mary a wry grin. “And strong enough to crack over a Nausicaan’s head too.”

Crossing her arms as she swelled wit pride, Mary concluded yes it was. And she then offered McGregor the umbrella.

“I couldn’t possibly.”

“Mr McGregor you do not decline a gift, particularly one from a woman my age. And who’s to say you cannot accept the gift. Starfleet protocols? Something tells me that you don’t toe the line too rigidly on that score, hmmm?”

“I suppose it will come in useful.” He held the umbrella up for closer inspection. “And it does rather bring out the colour of my eyes, don’t you think Rah?”

Rah gave an uncommitted growl before hefting up some boxes to be transported back to town. The Vulcan attending Donald looked over, in what could only be interpreted as, disapprovingly. Her beautifully smooth and stoic features remained calm as she informed McGregor. “CPO McGregor. An umbrella does not comply with uniform regulations.”

“Aye but you’ll find Ensign T’Vel if it rains I’ll be dry and you’ll be wet. Now tell me is it logical or not to throw it away?” He turned and kissed Mary on the cheek; but not before she grabbed a feel of his ass cheek.

“You’ve got a live on there, Donald.”

He roused heatedly, “And you’d be best keeping your hands to yourself you little Federation snot. Mary, enough of that now.”

“Donald!” She stilled him with one word before graciously nodding her head at McGregor before turning her attention back to Donald. “Now gather our stuff. We’ve a world to rebuild.”

The Vulcan woman approached Judy’s saviour and addressed him coolly. “The regulations pertaining to uniform are not subject to the law of logic Mr McGregor but the dictates of Starfleet.”

“Aye, that it is ensign.” He stowed the umbrella with a makeshift belt that tied it to his back oblivious to the Vulcan’s words. Despite technically outranking the CPO, the Vulcan knew when not to push the matter and headed off to lead an expedition back to town. McGregor stepped up closer to the giant Kzinti. “Remind me Rah, to help the kind Vulcan with her possessions when the time comes for her stint with us to be over. Bloody officers! The Puffs and Cuffs never seem to get it into their heads that it’s us grunts who do the real work round here.” Rah shouldering a heavy load looked down disapprovingly at the empty-handed McGregor but offered no response. “Why anyone would ever become an officer?” He tutted and made his way off grumbling under his breath.

Noah broke the reverie. “Lt. Commander T’Vel was aboard the Kestrel then, too?”

“As an ensign on her very first tour. That’s a different story again; but suffice to say I don’t think it was the billet she had been expecting or desired. However, she did return to the Kestrel so that must say something about the ship. I hope what I’ve told you helps you to better understand the value of your posting here. It might not be glamorous but it is important work. Especially, to those of us who grew up on the border.”

Thinking on it, Noah did feel better about the posting and in turn about his own call to the job. With that in mind, he thanked the doctor.

“Good, I’m glad it helped. Now let’s go over some of those procedures I was showing you earlier.” With that, Monroe stood and expecting Noah to follow, returned to the main sickbay to revise all they had learned. But more important still, Monroe felt she had imparted a just as important lesson within Noah. The value and the respect the Border Patrol deserved.

* * *​
 
Ah well, that solves the mystery of that ubiquitous umbrella. It also raises about a dozen new questions, most notably: what exactly was this event all about and how has McGregor remained so young over the years.

I'm looking forward to more answers.
 
Just got finished reading through the story thus far (took me a couple of days!)

Let me just say, this is a very fun read! I am enjoying the peculiar characters and the perspective of the junior officers. The crew of the Kestrel make the Bluefin's crew seem like a bunch of tea-sipping effete snobs by comparison. :lol:

McGregor is definitely over-the-top in his behavior, beyond eccentric, but you've hinted at an "Event" that may explain his quirkiness. The XO provides some much needed balance as does the good doctor. Your character development is first-rate and the story-line is both humorous and engaging.

You've done a fantastic job of capturing the rough and tumble nature of the Border Service as they patrol the frontier and far-flung borders of the Federation. You write with wonderful imagery. I'm looking forward to more! :techman:
 
Thank you so much TLR! It means alot to have you review the story as yours is and always shall be the quintessential Border Patrol vessel and crew. I dare shall your Akinola would have a few choice words for McGregor - though McGregor would probably have little complaint with a fellow Mustang Border Dog. But yeah, without Akinola's own temperament and maturity, McGregor is in desperate need of an XO like Molly.

As for my guys making the Bluefin look like tea-sipping effete snobs, I think not!! Solly drinking tea? What kind of tea parties do you have? ;)

Glad you're enjoying the junior officer's perspective. Plenty more of that to come.

Your character development is first-rate and the story-line is both humorous and engaging.

You've done a fantastic job of capturing the rough and tumble nature of the Border Service as they patrol the frontier and far-flung borders of the Federation. You write with wonderful imagery. I'm looking forward to more! :techman:

Oh wow! Thanks mega. With your own series so excellent I was more than nervous venturing into this field. So thanks again. Hope the rest of the story continues to be fun and engaging.
 
Food For Thought
* * *​

It was a time later, with Noah stooped over a console watching another medical training video when the doctor came over and gently laid a hand on his shoulder. Startled, Noah jumped before quickly trying to appear nonchalant. Judith Monroe giggled at his attempt.

“Sorry. I had gotten a little involved in the file.”

Still smiling the doctor reassured, “No problem. That’s good in fact. It’s what I want. But I dare say you really did get involved. You’re shift ended ten minutes ago.”

“Oh!” Noah remarked surprised. “I didn’t notice the time go by.”

“See.” Monroe spread her hands almost imploringly as she mocked herself. “They say a stint in the medical bay is no fun but it is engaging and informative.”

He shook his head full-heartedly. “It was indeed.”

“Yes but remember too you learned some medicine today. Not just a tale about McGregor.” Noah blushed at this but truthfully, it was what Monroe expected him to be thinking of. “Go on. There’s hardly any harm in it. Off you go. No doubt your friend Jex will be waiting for you in the mess hall.”

“Yeah she will.”

Pointing a thumb at the door, Monroe ordered, “Scram. Today is Bountiful Bounty Day.” Catching Noah’s obvious confused state she elaborated, “I’ve heard that today is the last of the fresh food supplies. What with taking a detour straight away to Aubrellis at the Captain’s behest and it not being so much in the way of delicacies and fresh food to replenish our stocks. So, there’ll be a rush for the food lines before we’re stuck with replicated food and dried packaged rations.”

With a grateful nod, Noah gathered his stuff and offering his thanks to Monroe for the training and all else beside fled to the mess. As Monroe had guessed, the mess was indeed quite busy with hungry crew filling the tables and lines up at the canteen. Noah looked around the milling crowd trying to spot Jex. A waving hand jutting up from the other end over the heads of the other diners grabbed his attention.

He made his way over and set down beside her as she lifted a tray holding the seat for him. Opposite Jex and engaged in conversation was Becca Swift. She too greeted Noah warmly as he set down to a full plate.

“On Becca’s advice, I loaded up a plate for you. She said you might be late and explained that there’d be a rush on today.”

“Yeah, Dr. Monroe said so. She called Bountiful Bounty Day.”

Raising her tumbler in a mock toast with her mouth full, Becca chorused, “Bountiful Bounty Day. Goodbye real food! Hello replicators.”

Others at the table joined in with good humour. Grabbing whatever drink Jex had gotten him, Noah chorused in a little late and behind the others. He looked down at the plate and apart from some eggs was content with what Jex had picked out. Though a lot of the foods were among her favourites and not his.

He offered. “Do you want these eggs Jex?” This resulted in a sudden scramble and lunge at his plate by those nearest.

Jex too slowly answered, “Sure.”

Taking advantage, Becca spiked one hard-boiled egg with her fork, “I’ll have them!”

“Bags them!” Yelled Jock from the other side of Jex and leaning over her grabbed the other egg.

Becca reprimanded the Trill. “Too slow Jex.”

“Better luck next time,” said Jock in his thick accent as he cracked the egg.

Noah was about to protest when Jex reached over to Jock’s plate, skewered a sausage, and quickly chomped into it. “You were saying?”

“Cheeky beggar!” General laughs and smiles accompanied the shenanigans and the meal passed in pleasant company. Noah sat back and indulged in his hearty meal but keeping quiet. Becca meantime explained that they entered a little drought period until the next scheduled stop to restock on provisions. She explained too the custom aboard was to have a rather big splurge of a meal to give the last of the food supplies a proper send off. A tradition instigated by McGregor when he first took command and held to ever since.

“Twenty years now and going strong.”

“Aye best skipper there is but a bloody tyrant too mind.” Jock added.

Jex observed, “He’s served a long time as CO onboard one vessel. That’s not normal usually.”

At the other end of the table, a grizzled voice shouted, “That’s because he’s not normal!” A chorus of laughs attested to that sentiment.

“True Nujinx,” Becca, setting down her beaker, agreed with the Primate Xindi engineer assistant. “He’s had a long history with this vessel.”

Without meaning to, Noah said, “He’s not the only one.”

Jex turned puzzled to look at her companion. Becca nodded knowingly. “Ah yes. You’ll have heard Monroe’s story of Punthoon Lunar 5. Great story and all true amazingly.”

Now Jex turned to Becca bemused at being out of the loop. The grizzled voice at the other end of the table interjected. “What a story and the doc sure does tell it well.”

Annoyed but in good humour, Jex asked, “What story?”

Noah rolled his eyes. Becca however jumped in. “Let me tell you.”

The rest of the story unfolded with embellishments from the others, in particular the increasingly vocal Xindi Primate. By the ned, Jex was suitably impressed. Her eyes narrowed as she zeroed in on the same assessment that Noah had come to about McGregor and Rah’s apparent longevity.

“I mean I’m the Trill. Surely there shouldn’t be too many older than me!” She added impishly.

Jock jested, “You’re only as young as ye feel. Wanna feel twenty eight?” He thumbed at his chest with a great big leer on his face. Everyone else at the table groaned.

“Well apart from Nujinx who is practically ancient I dare say you are right. Admittedly, Lt. Commander T’Vel actually does have a good few years on her. She served with McGregor at that time too but had no ‘Event’ to account for her youthful looks. That’s just good old Vulcan genes for you.”

In a very girly voice, Jex trilled. “That’s just annoying.”

“Tell me about it.”

“I guess the Vulcan habit of neither smiling nor frowning helps to keep lines from your face.” Becca and the rest of the table gave a weird other knowing look. Noah merely buried his head in his plate. All of which prompted Jex to ask, “What? What did I say?”

“Let’s just say our atypical Vulcan science officer is not exactly atypical.”

Jex was not convinced. Looking back on the shift on the bridge Jex tried to think of any trait, word or sign gave evidence to the Vulcan being anything other than the stereotypical Vulcan. On reflection though, she could find none. The shift had started jarringly as she entered the bridge.

* * *
Bridge

“Good morning Miss Jex.”

Jex almost stepped back into the turbolift caught unawares by the jovial welcome of the Captain as she entered the bridge. “Oh good morning Captain.”

“Don’t mind me; I’m stepping out for a bit of fresh air. Lt. Commander T’Vel, you have the bridge.” With that, McGregor stepped into the turbolift and waggled his fingers in a childish manner to Jex as the doors slid shut. The abrupt nature of the Captain momentarily startled Jex into forgetting her place before the presence of an alluring but stoic Vulcan brought her to her senses.

“Sorry Lt. Commander T’Vel. Ensign Leoini Jex, reporting for duty.”

“There is no need for apology. You may take your position.” With the smaller crew and double shifts that operated on the Kestrel Jex found herself staffing not engineering as to be expected instead discovering Jock to be staffing that position. She took her temporary position at OPS. Jock gave her a mischievous wink when he believed T’Vel could not see them.

Choosing to pretend to ignore Jock, Jex seated herself, received her report from the off going crewmember and then ran her own status of the ship’s engines and operational systems to confirm the report and have an up to date picture of the ship’s status.

Having completed so, she checked in with main engineering where she talked briefly to the Chief. While Gardner reported brusquely to her, no doubt finding her enthusiasm irritating and intruding on his maintenance of the engines, Jex by now knew he really relished the devotion to duty his engineering crew displayed. With all in order, she reported as much to the commanding officer of the bridge – T’Vel.

With her overview complete, Jex could now afford the time to survey the Lt. Commander. At first glance, she seemed a typical Vulcan. Economical with her words, not embellishing orders with extraneous chat or voicing any compliments or comments on the reports delivered. Logically there was no need to thank anyone for doing his or her job. Which Jex could understand, though she herself was prolific with her compliments and thanks. With the Vulcan ashen complexion and stark eyebrows, she looked every inch a Vulcan save for her long hair. Rather than be worn in the short and often all too unflattering bowl hair cut, T’Vel wore her long locks pulled back in a bun but allowing her Vulcan ears to be hidden behind loose strands of dark hair. Jex could only imagine that the Vulcan woman allowed it to fall loose and so frame her face.

The woman sat almost immobile in the command chair, or what was referred to as the command chair (in actuality the executive officer’s chair) since no one was permitted to sit in the Captain’s central chair. Straight back and presumably as straight laced, her stoic demeanour brokered little conversation on the bridge. During her first bridge duty, where Stanley was in command, she was pleasantly surprised to find the bridge a hub of quiet conversation. Her surprise had registered on her face and Stanley had informed her that it was perfectly all right since all was quiet and interaction actually helped the crew to keep alert.

No such motivation, however was provided by the austere T’Vel.

* * *

“She seemed very much your typical Vulcan on the bridge.”

“Ah yes but she would. She does a good act of acting very Vulcan. In fact at times she is even more Vulcan than most Vulcans. I guess she tries to over compensate.” Becca mopped up some gravy with a hunk of bread.

Jex pressed. “In what way is she not like a Vulcan then?”

“What? Didn’t Noah tell you about last night’s little excursion?”

Jex turned to Noah with a disapproving face. “You holding out on me Cutler?” turning back to Becca she informed her that Noah was being rather tight lipped on the matter of the away mission.

Becca nodded sagely. “Oh I see. Cartwright threatened you to silence and Monroe spun the Ponthoon tale to press home a message.”

Noah bowed his head again trying to hide his blushing face giving away his lie. Jex however, decided to prod the issue further in a teasing fashion. But Noah pleaded ignorance on the matter. His continued silence frustrating Jex. She doubted the sincerity of his denial. “You can tell me whatever it is?”

Noah was unmoved and continued walking towards his quarters. “Look sorry Jex it is just something I can’t talk about – or at least not at the moment.”

“Don’t worry about it Jex. When either Monroe or Cartwright swear you to secrecy it is best to keep your lips sealed. Not to mind, we can tell you the story of T’Vel. Not that I’m a gossip! I wan to make that clear. But we can then tell you all about Ronak too.”

“Ronak? What’s he got to with anything?”

“Ensign you aren’t the brightest are you. Punk ass attitude from a Vulcan kid who shouldn’t be seen within twenty miles of a starship never mind serve on one, albeit as a glorified bus boy. Yeoman Ronak, he is nineteen years of age. An emotionally imbalanced Vulcan at that.”

Jock interrupted to say, “Cretin more like. Little bastard.”

“I can’t deny that Jock. Unnecessary to say but he is one very unVulcan like Vulcan; except that there is one other unVulcan like Vulcan among our crew. Join the dots. Ronak is T’Vel’s son.”

“Oh! But what’s with her being unVulcan like? She seemed very much a Vulcan on the bridge.” Jex winced saying as much. Her shared memories of past lives she knew that for all their stoic demeanours, each and every Vulcan had their own temperament, traits and characteristics, their different ways of showing those closest to them they cared whilst still retaining their calm Vulcan exterior.

However, she got no answers as a voice rang out loud and clear.

“Excuse me, excuse me, excuse me.” En masse, the crowd in the mess hall turned to the door to face the captain. Donned in an EVA suit, helmet tucked under his arm, the captain stood on top of the table nearest the mess hall. At the side of the table watching on were Stanley and Sebastian. Sebastian too was dressed in an EVA suit looking rather discomfited by the spectacle. Tossing the helmet to Stanley, McGregor outstretched his arms to entreat the diners to hear him. “Now I have your attention. I hope you’ve fed well. But not too much so, for a special buffet is arranged for later in the bar. Mind what you do with the crumbs, as Gordon gets tetchy if you ruin his carpets. Tonight for those of you with no duty shift or able to hold your liquor, “he drew out this last word savouring it on his tongue, “I want you to eat, feast and be merry. For tomorrow, I have something very special planned. Enjoy, enjoy, enjoy. Happy Bountiful Bounty Day. First drinks at the bar are on me!”

A loud chorus of noise and cheers filled the room, followed swiftly by the clattering of trays and plates as food was cleared away and people headed towards the aforementioned bar. McGregor stood atop the table still herding the crowd on, barking out coarse jokes and words of mirth to the passer bys. Sebastian remained at the foot of the table, still looking uncomfortable and appeared to be rooted to the spot.

Looking up with his large black eyes, Stanley remarked politely, “You certainly know how to clear a room Captain.”

Grinning to himself, McGregor replied, “People merely need the proper motivation, Stanley.”

At this point, Becca, Jock, Jex and Noah approached the exit talking amongst themselves. Noah hung back slightly not as enthused as the others. “Cheer up me lady! There’s fun to be had in the bar.”

Noah looked up frightened at his singling out by the captain “Erm ... yes sir.”

“It hardly demands a ‘yes sir’ ensign, but best hop to it and put a smile on that face.” Jumping down from the table, McGregor made quite an impact with the heavy EVA suit. It caused Noah to jump back in alarm.

Sebastian rolled his eyes. Noticing this, Becca glowered at Sebastian in turn. “Is something the matter Becca?”

“Just the company you’re hanging about with Stanley.”

“I assure you Becca, the captain has his faults...”

“I meant him!” She pointed fiercely at Sebastian.

Wagging a finger, McGregor intoned, “I told you already to play nice Becca. Go on with you to the bar and get my drinks in.” Reluctantly, Becca with some prompting from Jock moved on, darting daggers back in the direction of Sebastian but holding her tongue. Jex took Noah’s elbow to move him on in turn.

“Ah Miss Jex. I’ve a change of duty for you tomorrow. Stanley.” He clicked his fingers and held out a hand. Stanley reached into a duffle bag over his shoulder, setting the captain’s helmet on the table. Withdrawing a PADD, Stanley handed it back to the captain, who in turn activated it and handed it to Jex. She read its content eagerly and intrigued.

Mouth agape she looked at the captain to seek confirmation. “But I’ve never ...”

Snatching the PADD off her, McGregor exclaimed, “Isn’t that precisely the point why we are here? To learn new things! Well actually it isn’t. That very much gets in the way of things. Your little worm guy in your stomach though wants to experience new things. This is such an opportunity. Besides this is a Border Patrol vessel and this job is par the course. I do ask you not to spill the beans on my little plans for tomorrow though. I like to keep the crew on their toes. Isn’t that right Mr. Templar?”

McGregor clapped Sebastian hard on the back. He grudgingly replied, “Yes sir.”

“My, my. We are all very serious. Didn’t you hear the bit about the free drinks at the bar?” He threw his arms up in despair. “Ah, Nujinx, you’ll be more eager for the bar. These kids don’t know how to have fun. Life is wasted on the youth! A wise man once said that – it was me.”

The two headed off merrily. Jex fell in step with Sebastian curious about the EVA suit. “What’s with the suit?”

Looking darkly ahead at the captain, his arm around Nujinx as they headed to the bar, Sebastain coyly and dryly answered,. “The Captain wanted to get some fresh air.”

Stanley marched along with Noah, his bare webbed feet slapping on the polished deck floor. “You look nervous ensign.”

Noah gulped. “I guess I am. What was in the PADD?”

“Nothing to fret over. I’m sure Miss Jex will find it a most illuminating experience.” He placed a hand on Noah’s shoulder mimicking the captain. “There’s many other things to be ... worried ... abo ...”

Stanley stalled then. Noah stopped to look at the strange blue skinned alien as he stood rooted to the spot. Looking into his eyes Noah saw the black void of Stanley’s eyes cloud over in a foggy white as Stanley slumped to the ground.

“Are you alright? Lt. Commander? Mr Subrelqui? Stanley!”

Noah’s raised and concerned voice alerted the remaining four in the corridor. They turned back and McGregor rushed forwards to be at Stanley’s side.

“Stan? It’s ok. It’ll be fine.” He cradled the blue skinned alien as if he were a baby in his arms, careful and protective. Stanley started to babble and murmur as if in a delirium. McGregor tired to comfort the sickly looking helmsman. “Sshh there now. It’ll be fine.”

Stanley’s eyes reverted back to their obsidian blackness. With them he looked up into McGregor’s eyes. Noah stood over them and saw the look he gave. A deep penetrating look. A look that reached beyond. Stanley’s voice grew heavy and dark. It carried an ethereal feel to it. A solemnity. A weight. An authority of apocryphal prophecy. “Flames! I see flames. I see death. I see dogs – a pack – hunting down a winged bird – us – surrounded. Death. They come for us! Blood will be let and the price will be high.”

“Ssh my friend, ssh now. Rest.”

Tired and devoid of energy, Stanley’s body slumped into McGregor’s arms. “I think I will. I think I’ll sleep now captain.”

“Good boy. Take it easy. Take it easy.” Stanley closed his eyes as McGregor soothed him to sleep. “What are you waiting for Cutler? Get Monroe. Now.”

* * *​
 
Whoa. That's quite a vision Stanley had. Doesn't sound good for them at all ...

Your crew is very diverse. The not-so-Vulcan Vulcans, in particular, intrigue me. I'm looking forward to learning more about them.
 
Looks like the junior officers are still trying to figure out how this ship works and maybe even how their captain thinks. Considering McGregor's general behavior that is going to be a pretty damn near impossible task.

I'm also glad to say that I'm quicker on the uptake then Jex with all her previous lives. I figured out that Jock was T’Vel's son a few chapters ago.

Now Stanley's vision has me somewhat concerned. Usually bad things happen when people start prophesize like that.
 
Whoa. That's quite a vision Stanley had. Doesn't sound good for them at all ...

Your crew is very diverse. The not-so-Vulcan Vulcans, in particular, intrigue me. I'm looking forward to learning more about them.

Diversity is part of what I was aiming for. I'd love to throw more into the ix to be honest but am restraining myself. I'm glad you like that aspect about it. As for our Vulcans there is a good bit to come on T'Vel. I'm working on her telling her backstory, there's quite a bit to it and I hope to goodness I ca get it right.

Looks like the junior officers are still trying to figure out how this ship works and maybe even how their captain thinks. Considering McGregor's general behavior that is going to be a pretty damn near impossible task.

I'm also glad to say that I'm quicker on the uptake then Jex with all her previous lives. I figured out that Jock was T’Vel's son a few chapters ago.

Now Stanley's vision has me somewhat concerned. Usually bad things happen when people start prophesize like that.

She is savvier than what she's displayed here - we have the foresight of seeing T'Vel's behaviour on the planet below whereas Jex hasn't. I quite enjoyed giving hints to some of the mysteries/questions though.

I hope to explore a little about Jex's past but whether I do it here on in a separate story I'm not sure. I don't want to bog down the story with too many backstories. Certain character's stories have an import to this tale such as T'Vel's and Monroe's. So I wanted to tell them within it. Jex however I'm mulling over the approach and just how a Trill relates and shifts through those Trill memories.

Now as to Stanley's 'vision' there's some to come on that. Thanks for reading and reviewing.
 
Quite a dark prophecy by Stanley! Bet that throws some cold water on the festivities.

Great dialogue amongst the crew. I like the "bountiful bounty day," it really makes sense that a ship going out on patrol would carry some fresh provisions before resorting to the replicator. McGregor continues to exhibit his flair for the bizarre - why the EVA suit? For a second, I thought he was planning on decompressing that section of the ship to send the scraps, trash and crumbs into space! :lol:

Good stuff!
 
McGregor would never resort to such tactics ... erm ... ok maybe he might. Don't give him ideas though! Thanks for reading. As for EVA suit ... that's coming. But first to come will be a little more on Stanley's vision.
 
‘Portents’​

Medical Bay


Stanley lay propped up a several large plump pillows, ordered by the captain as soon as Stanley had started to come to after succumbing to fatigue in the corridor outside the mess hall. The captain also tenderly placed one of Stanley’s scarves around him as he carefully fussed over the strange being.

Looking on in bewilderment, Jex, Noah and Sebastian shifted uncomfortably as Monroe shooed them back from the bio bed to check some more scans. When McGregor turned angrily at the interruption, Monroe scowled in return brokering no response from the captain. The entire scene confusing the heck out of the ensigns, none of whom expected to see McGregor act so caring and compassionately to one of his crew.

“I am feeling much better now captain.” Stanley tried to reassure McGregor, but his double layered eyelids blinked and drooped with weariness, belying the lie.

“Just lie back and take it easy Stan. Monroe will sort you out. There’s a good lad.”

Stanley complied to close his eyes only to open them again alerted by the medical infirmary doors opening to admit a hurried Cartwright, an almost worried Dexter and the grim but stoic personage of Rah. Their entrance causing the trio of ensigns to step further back.

Cartwright was quick of the mark as she approached the bio bed and squeezed Stanley thin, bony webbed hands. “Is he alright? Did he have a vision?”

Caleb Dexter the chief of security stepped up close to the bio bed looking nervous and worried. His arms trying to find a place to be, he tried to cross them but leaned instead on the bio bed looking at McGregor and not the frail form of Stanley.

Monroe in soothing tones reassured them that Stanley was alright. She also asked them all to back off and give him space. “Be that as it may doc, we need to know if Mnu has a portent of some danger that might be imminent.”

“Don’t lecture me Caleb. I’m the doctor. And if you’re so worried about imminent danger then you ought not to have abandoned the bridge so readily.”

“T’Vel remained on the bridge and the Chief was headed there too.” McGregor looked up happily at that piece of news. “So what did he say?”

“Nothing yet. We’ve been more concerned about checking him out to interrogate Stanley.” Monroe pursed her lips and bowed her head defiantly. Her demeanour telling Caleb not to push the matter. “Apart from what he initially said, he’s said little else. Question Cutler as to what he said and give us a moment before you drill Stanley.”

McGregor stayed by Stanley’s side with Rah stepping closer too, but folding his arm and remaining aloof. His amber eyes meeting McGregor’s and wordless they shared some unknown meaning with the look, before returning their attention to Stanley. Molly stepped back and approached Cutler and the others with Caleb. With his hands on his hips he made an intimidating figure in front of Noah.

“What did he say kid?”

Noah shrugged. “It was all a babble. None of it made much sense.”

“What did he say? Not your opinion on its worth.” Caleb glowered. Molly stepped closer, placing a calming hand on the security officer.

In more soothing tones she asked, “Of what you could make out, what did he say. It might seem fragmented and confusing but Stanley’s,” she paused to search for the best word, “... visions ... can be very useful and insightful. They have often warned us of trouble. So whatever you can tell will prove helpful in some manner.”

Sebastian blurted out, “You mean to say he’s had these before?”

“Yes but now is not the time to consider the history of it. Ensign Cutler, what did Stanley say?”

“Well ok then.” Noah fumbled trying to recollect as accurately as he could. “He talked of flames. And ... death. He said something about the ship being hunted by a pack of wolves. It didn’t make much sense.”

“It doesn’t always.” Molly mused, stroking her chin thoughtfully as she explained. “Sometimes the phrases he speaks are more interpretations of what Stanley has seen. But the nature of the visions means he can not always recollect the specific details or express what he is actually seeing. He doesn’t mean actual wolves but an enemy.”

“A pack hunting us implies more than one enemy.” Caleb concluded.

“T’Hos no doubt, garnering allies in his bid to exact his revenge.” McGregor spoke darkly as he reluctantly left Stanley’s bedside. Rah remaining, standing over in a silent vigil. “The slimy bastard when I get him.”

Molly countered, “Don’t be presumptuous Captain. It may not be T’Hos.”

“Of course it is Molly. He’s so twisted and maddened he’s going to try and take us head on. But he’s not dumb enough to try such a move alone. He’s going to try and get some of his Fien comrades to support him in his plan. Still stupid but not entirely suicidal.”

“We had best make preparations for such an assault then Captain.” All turned to meet the cool voice of T’Vel stood at the doorway. Her hands clasped behind her back, her demeanour calm and imposing. Her rock solid stance and presence emanated through the room. “An attack on several fronts precipitates our taking precautions and being prepared.”

“I won’t argue with that T’Vel. Trust me when I say we will be prepared. Starting with tomorrow, isn’t that right Miss Jex?” The captain turned and levelled his gaze on the Trill.

“Yes sir.” She agreed, tearing her eyes away from T’Vel’s haughty presence. In a room filled with the formidable figures and personalities of McGregor, Dexter, Cartwright and Rah, it seemed improbable that any one could enter the room and dominate it so forcibly. But the Trill had to admit that T’Vel, at this moment in time, did just that. Her serenity and agelessness, coupled with her alluring beauty and stance, demanded attention. Jex admitted to herself the Vulcan’s mere presence enthralled her. Something suggesting indeed that this was no mere Vulcan.

Building up his bravado again, McGregor declared confidently, “We know when T’Hos will attack and now we know he’ll do so in numbers.”

Molly rounded on the Captain. “You needn’t be so flippant about the matter McGregor. You only can presume that you know what T’Hos is thinking and planning.”

With some considerable swagger, McGregor riposted forcibly. “I do declare that I do know. I know how he thinks. Now might I suggest we discuss our preparations and drills before the time?”

Caleb was a little derogatory as he remarked, “Yes you know when he’ll attack and you claim to know who his inside man is?”

“I think this conversation is best held among senior officers only.” T’Vel announced turning her intense look upon the three ensigns. The three of them had remained tight-lipped, engrossed in the spectacle around them.

“You have a point there Lt. Commander. Excuse us, won’t you ensigns?” Molly approached them.

McGregor shouted at their retreating forms. “Don’t forget the party in the lounge!”

As he passed T’Vel, Noah also couldn’t help but be entranced by her presence. All the more marked by the difference in when he had seen her last, drunk and incapacitated on Aubrellis. “Ensign?”

He gulped. “It’s nothing. Sorry to stare.” He said, continuing to stare as he walked out the door.

The three ensigns looked on as the doors closed on the tableau of the senior officers waiting to pick up their discussion and all of them watching the ensigns carefully. When the doors closed the three of them felt like exhaling deeply a sigh of relief. Trying to lighten the mood but also stating a bald fact, Jex remarked, “That was fairly intense and bizarre.”

Noah could only agree, almost breathlessly. “Yeah.”

“It doesn’t sound right that’s for sure.” Sebastian concluded aloud.

* * *
As the doors had closed, T’Vel turned with her eyes penetrating and deep. “Whom was Mnu touching when he had the vision?”

Caleb nodded his head as if to point in Noah’s direction. “The kid.”

T’Vel raised an eyebrow in contemplative thought as she looked back in the direction of the door, as if she could see through it. “Should he be warned?”

Monroe rushed to defensively declare, “Not everything Stanley sees comes to pass. We’ve managed to avert them before. It means nothing. Cutler will be fine. So long as we are prepared and ready.”

Molly wore a more worried face. “Stanley’s warning put us all in danger. The ensign alone is not in danger. We all face death and flames.” She looked accusingly at McGregor. “All of us together face T’Hos’s wrath.”

Balling her fists, Monroe stated quietly but with steel in her voice, “All the more reason to be ready then.”

“Yeah,” Caleb agreed. But he turned to sneer, “but there’s still always a price of blood to be paid with Stanley’s visions.”

* * *​
“Well are we going to this party or not guys?”

“I appreciate you trying to make light of the situation Jex but I’m a little freaked out by what happened. I’d sooner just call it a day.” Noah shirked off her jovial efforts and started back towards his cabin.

Calling after him, she pleaded, “Noah. Come on.”

“No seriously Leoni. Bye.” With that, he gave a half-hearted wave. With the use of her first name, she knew she had lost any chance of convincing him.

“Leave him be.”

Jex turned on Sebastian. “Why should I?”

“Because he needs to learn sooner rather than later to grow a pair and to not run around half-scared most of the time and the rest of the time scared.”

“Is that your experienced opinion?”

“For what it is worth, yeah. And if you’ve all those life times of experience to draw upon then you know better too.” He turned in the bulky suit to make for the airlock to rid himself of the attire.

Jex followed. “Why do you say that?”

Sebastian grimaced at being pursued. “Your other hosts are sure to tell you that a newly polished ensign who walks around as nervous and as unsure as him ends up getting himself or others killed.”

Jex swatted him hard on the shoulder as he walked away. Her hand hitting the tough EVA suit hard. Immediately, she winced in pain, throwing her hand under her armpit to quash the pain. “Why do you say that?”

He stopped and questioned her harshly. “Don’t you know? He’s a walking time bomb. He hesitates and he quivers at every new turn of events. We’re serving on a Border Patrol vessel not a luxury liner. Maybe he should have signed up to be steward or something.”

“That’s harsh!”

“It’s the truth; unless he toughens up he’s going to be washed out in less than a year.” He added darkly, “If he survives that long.” Sebastian started walking again in cumbersome steps. Jex looked at him appalled.

“You’re letting Mnu – Stanley’s- vision, scare you now.”

“It’s not hocus pocus. It’s hard facts learned by history. You know it too. You said your past hosts served in Starfleet. Don’t they recognise the type? Wet behind the ears ensign who blunders into an accident and gets himself killed.”

Jex shook her head angrily. Mostly because she knew his words had a certain truth. “No, no. He’s just learning. He never expected to be on border patrol. He just has to get his head around it. What makes you such an expert anyway? You washed out before trying your hand at border patrol duties.”

“That’s pretty much it.”

“Enough of the swagger. Just answer me plain. You protest that Noah is going to get himself killed or others as if you’re some kind of authority on good command practice. The model officer. The silver spooned Admiral’s boy. So please enlighten me.”

He angrily retorted, spittle flying and face red, “Because I killed the likes of him!”

The violence of his words rocked Jex. She staggered backwards even as Sebastian ran a hand through his hair embarrassed and angry at admitting the truth of his past.

“You ...?”

“Cut it out. Becca Swift has badmouthed me to enough people for you to know the ins and out. I’m not going to stand here and try to defend myself.”

Something about his frank honesty made the bravado fall away and Jex saw that Sebastian in reality was alone and hurting. She offered softly, “Look if you want to talk about it.”

This only served to raise his anger. “No I don’t!”

“Fine!” Jex shouted back before calming herself, taking a deep breath in a deliberate attempt to do so. “However, your side deserves to be heard too. I mean for all your talk about Noah, you too are cutting yourself off from the crew. You are hiding yourself away in some sort of self-imposed exile.” She added in realisation after his outburst. “I dare say punishing yourself.”

In a snarky tone he replied, “Enough of the analysis. Didn’t you hear the captain? The captain sold the last ship’s counsellor.”

“A minute ago you were the one giving me advice about Noah. Dole it out but won’t accept it. Huh. Fine. All I will say is that you haven’t made much of an effort to get to know other onboard apart from the security team. Maybe you need to realise that you need some friends to fight your corner too.” She smirked and then trotted away in the opposite direction.

“Wait.” He called after her. Jex stopped surprised and turned to face him again. “Maybe I was wrong. Don’t leave the ensign to his own devices. He needs to be cheered up and have company.”

“Thanks. That’s what I was going to do.”

He gave what might have been a shrug but the EVA suit absorbed and masked much of the subtle movement. “Figured as much.”

She playfully rejoined with a genuine smile on her face, “Who is doing an analysis now?”

He smirked back before catching himself. To account for himself he added, “Still he needs to toughen up.” Then he started once more on his way to the airlock. Jex watched him go for a moment before heading off herself to catch up with Noah.

* * *​
Jex caught up with him near to his room. Noah was stood in front of a window port looking out at the passing stars. Lost in thought she broke his reverie. “Sorry. I know you wanted to be left alone but I couldn’t just leave you.”

“For crying out loud Jex. Can’t you let a matter rest?” Jex’s face showed how stricken she was by his anger. Immediately his anger dissipated upon seeing her hurt expression. “Sorry Jex. You’re right. I’m just a ... dolt.”

“A moron, a fool, a prig, a ...”

“I get the idea. Sorry truly.” Then by way of apologising, he beckoned to his door ahead. “Are you coming in? We can watch some of those old movies you like so much. I’ll even replicate you some popcorn with ... toffee right?”

“I thought you hated the smell of popcorn?”

“Yeah I do but ... a small sacrifice for your company.” She elbowed him in the ribs.

“Watch it! And you had better believe it. But I get to choose the movie.”

The doors to the quarters opened. Lying up on the sofa lay Noah’s elusive room-mate.

“I don’t believe it!”

A lip curled in disgust the roommate snarled, “You don’t believe it! I bloody well can’t bear the thought of it.”

His room-mate was none other than Ronak!
* * *​
 
I love the dialogue between your characters - visceral, cutting and frequently funny. Yet there's an underlying tone of seriousness that creates a subtle, dark undercurrent. Very nice writing!

You've created some obvious tension among your characters and more than a hint of mystery. What does Stanley's vision mean for the crew? What's the connection with Cutler?

And having Ronak, the sociopathic Vulcan as Cutler's room-mate! :lol: Poor Noah - if it weren't for bad luck he'd have no luck at all!

A lot of layers to this story - I'm having fun peeling my way through them. :techman:
 
* * *

‘A Vulcan Morning to You’


Officers’ Quarters, Deck 6


Noah was rudely awakened to rock music being played at full blast in the anteroom to the quarters he shared with Ronak. He groaned as he buried his head under the covers to stifle the noise. He should have expected something like this! In truth, he had expected trouble last night upon finally discovering who his roommate was. However, things had passed relatively quiet last night.

Yes, there had been jibes from Ronak as Noah and Jex had made a hasty retreat from the quarters soon after discovering Ronak ensconced on the sofa. It hardly seemed likely that the troublemaker was going to give them the room so retreat had been the better option.

Although Jex had argued that allowing Ronak to take over the room was only giving him validation to continue behaving as such, her heart was not in her argument. No doubt, she’d have argued and stood up to Ronak herself, but Noah felt she understood that he himself would sooner avoid any confrontations. Therefore, they escaped to the movie-theatre to give Jex her fix of popcorn.

Capitalising on his reluctance to return to quarters and face Ronak too soon, Jex had easily convinced him to join her at the bar for the remainder of the Bountiful Bounty Day party. She prodded Noah with words of advice about how he had to make a greater effort to make friends with others. Duly noting her words, he had made an effort and he was grateful to Jex for the prompt. All in all, they had a great time altogether and Noah had come more acquainted with some others among the crew.

With the result, he ended back in his own quarters late and by that time Ronak was fast asleep. He was now evidently wide-awake. Reluctantly, Noah dragged himself out of bed and decided to grab a bowl of cereal from the replicator and retreat to his room afterwards. If he were quick enough he’d have to have very little contact with Ronak.

So he darted out into the shared living space in his vest and shorts and bed hair. Ronak was of course waiting for his emergence. “Good to see you up and about roomie!” His good humour patently false and smile mocking.

Subdued and hardly meeting his eye, Noah replied lowly. “Morning.”

“Pardon? I can’t hear you over the music!” Ronak raised his voice, smirking.

“Look I said morning.” He then stepped in front of the replicator and ordered his cereal. His grabbed the bowl and jug of milk quickly, almost slopping the milk over the floor as he turned quickly to go back to his own room. Sadly, Ronak had raced to that end of the room and barred his way.

He stopped the music. “Pardon?“

“You heard.”

“It’s rude to not say hello, roomie. How do you expect us to get along with that kind of attitude?” He grasped Noah’s face as if he were a child and scolded, “You’re not a morning person are we, roomie woomie.”

Noah staggered backwards at the attitude and being accosted so. He was especially surprised at the Vulcan making physical contact with him. And for a brief moment during the contact, Noah had felt an overwhelming sense of anger and bitterness. It gave bite to his next words. “I thought Vulcan’s had a superior sense of hearing! You ought to have heard me despite the noise you insisted on making.”

“You really aren’t a morning person. And yeah, I heard you. Vulcans do have a superior sense of hearing. We are superior after all to humans.” He wrinkled his nose then in disgust. “We also have a superior sense of smell too. You think you’d have showered already!”

“I’ll shower after my breakfast. Now if you’ll excuse me.”

Ronak mimicked Noah with a high-pitched girly voice. “Now if you’ll excuse me.” He dropped his arm and allowed Noah to pass. As he did pass though, Ronak commented in a leering voice, “Nice bum roomie. Bet all the girls like you.”

Noah flushed with embarrassment and anger. But bottled his sudden anger and stormed into his room, sealing the door after himself. On the other side, he could hear Ronak chortle.

Fifteen minutes later, showered and dressed for duty, Noah disposed of the bowl and jug with some milk still left in it into the reclamation unit. The items disappeared in a reversal of the replicator process. Ronak then came out of his own room at this stage and directed over a friendly smile that did not meet his eyes. “Ready for work?”

Noah’s lip pursed carefully. He considered the dark emotional state that had washed over him and had abated. Though irked again at seeing the Vulcan he wondered about what effect the physical touch had had on himself, colouring his mood so darkly.

In response, Noah was determined one not to be in reach of the Vulcan and not to rise to his bait. So he announced in order to placate the Vulcan, “Yes. I’ll be out of your hair shortly.”

“Aw, I thought we might get to know each other better before you had to report for duty. Especially as you don’t have to report for another two hours yet. Anyone would think you didn’t want to hang around.”

“Wonder why that would be?” Grabbing a PADD up, Noah though insisted, “I thought that I’d read a bit before duty. Somewhere where I am likely to get some peace.”

“Whatever.” Ronak shrugged as he leaned against the doorframe of his room. “I could have walked you to your shift otherwise.”

“Huh! Somehow I doubt you know one end of the ship from the other.” The door chimed then just as Noah was about to reach it.

“Oh is it you wittle fwend! She’s hot. Where do her spots go to?”

Noah’s features screwed up angrily as he answered the door and not Ronak. It opened to reveal Lt. Commander T’Vel. Quickly the angry face dropped from his countenance and a look of shock replaced. Noah stepped backwards, unwittingly inviting the impressive stoic bearing of the Vulcan into the quarters.

“Thank you Ensign Cutler.” With her hands clasped tightly behind her back, she looked over to Ronak who now stood defensively and angrily with his fists balled up. The door shut behind her. In a cool voice, she offered what seemed most solicitous, “It is good to see you well, Ronak.”

“Good to see me well? Hah! Somehow, I doubt it mother dearest.” Standing on, transfixed and unsure as to what to do, Noah wanted nothing more than to slink away, but Ronak condescendingly drew attention to Noah. “Aren’t you going to say hi to Mom roomie?”

This drew a cold penetrating look from T’Vel who scrutinised the ensign levelly. Noah felt like shrinking into a ball. He gulped worried as to what her reaction might be. Obviously, she put on a front of a Vulcan exterior but he had seen otherwise. The science officer seemed to recognise the ensign and his look betrayed his thoughts.

“I assume you have questions you would like to ask ensign.”

Ronak clapped his hands, applauding mockingly. “My, my, my mother. Well played. But no point trying to deny anything, the little lamb here saw you in your full glory on the planet below. How do you expect him to reconcile the two conflicting images? Hmm? A drunken and disgraceful party girl, with the prim and proper science officer, and a Vulcan to boot. Go on, explain that!” He folded his arms in triumph, believing himself to have made a point.

T’Vel merely turned her look from Ronak to Noah now backed up against the bulkhead. Stammering he admitted his own confusion by saying, “I had assumed you were ... I mean you are ... I mean ... Are you v’tosh ka’tur? You know, a Vulcan without logic?”

Tilting her head to an even haughtier height, T’Vel, her stature towering over the ensign, looked down the length of her nose at Cutler. He shifted uncomfortably believing he had hit upon a sore point inadvertently. Ronak laughed at his statement. The malice of the laugh, confirming Noah’s fears that his question was offensive and brazen, and made Noah want to squirm and run out of sight.

T’Vel arched an eyebrow testily. Her stoic demeanour wavering ever so slightly as she clenched her hands tightly behind her back and pinched her hips, drawing her thin lips into a thinner line. Even still, her face remained beautiful and smooth, almost ageless. With a modicum of composure regained, she opened her mouth to speak but found she needed to lick her lips.

Ronak took the opportunity to gloat. “Well played Cutler. Cut to the bone why don’t you? Hee hee.”

Pointedly ignoring the braying from Ronak, T’Vel answered coolly. “You are incorrect. I am not v’tosh ka’tur .“

“No? I mean sorry. I didn’t mean to pry.”

Ronak scolded, wagging a finger. “Now mother, don’t lie – you are indeed a Vulcan of emotions – many, many emotions. Of course, you must be v’tosh ka’tur. How else can you explain your behaviour?”

T’Vel smarted from the taunt. Her face coloured slightly. Her eyes narrowed in Roank’s direction. “You are aware of the reasons Ronak.” A heavy emphasis on his name carried an accusatory air to it. Fault, at least in part, lay with him Noah concluded. T’Vel turned to Noah, again trying for a calmer voice. “To be v’tosh ka’tur is a choice. However, abhorrent and unVulcan a choice it is. I have made no such choice.” Her face contorted almost into an ugly sneer as she pronounced the words.

Ronak railed as he crossed the room. “But you do show emotions! You try to hide it but you show them all the time. Slips here and there and then succumbing to the depravity of your emotions you slink off to find the slums and wickedness of places like Aubrellis and seek comfort with the denizens of those vile hovels. Or do you deny it?” He spat his words angrily at T’Vel.

Coldly she retorted, the force of her words like a slap all the same for the tone they held. “I do not choose to show my emotions. I do not choose to allow my emotions to rule me.” In part, she accused and derided Ronak for the obvious manner in which he displayed his emotions. She also seemed to berate herself for what she admitted next. “I fight constantly to control them. I struggle to rein them in. But that struggle fails all too often. That choice was taken from me. All because of ...”

She stopped short and turned to Noah. “It would be for the best ensign if you went about your day. This is a ... private matter.”

Sarcastically directing his wrath at his mother, Ronak declared, “Yeah. A real family affair.”

Noah flushed and eagerly grabbed his equipment and rushed to leave. T’Vel called after him, “Do not forget your side arm.” He stopped at the open door; cursing himself he quickly fled into his room to retrieve his phaser. Strapping it to his belt, he again ran out of the room, never more thankful to escape a room.

* * *
 
Thanks for the kind words TLR and thanks for reading. Poor Noah doesn't get it too easy - certainly not so far - and this last post doesn't help matters.

Anyway, not sure when I'll get to post more to this story as going to be very busy over the next few weeks. But with that said, writing the story and reading others is a welcome distraction, so fingers crossed.
 
What a disaster. Can Noah switch rooms?

I'm fascinated to find out what's going on with the angry Vulcans. They creep me out, especially Ronak.
 
Quick Noah, shoot Ronak with the phaser! :P Jeez that Vulcan gets on my nerves. XD

And why do I get the feeling he did do something to Noah? O.o
 
I figured Stanley's vision was going to be a bad omen. And whenever people say ... "oh, it might not come true", you just know that it definitely will come true.

It looks like Jex is getting to Sebastian which would be very interesting as this guy is carrying some serious baggage around with him. Of course that might make him a perfect fit on the Kestrel.

And now we get some Vulcan family drama. Is there anything this story doesn't offer?
 
kes7, Warp Rider, CeJay, thanks for reading.

CeJay you could be right about Sebastian being a better fit for the Kestrel. Certainly more so than Noah. Alas Sebastian is going to have to work on his issues as I think Jex is spot on about his attitude as damaging and as dangerous as Noah's. Albeit the vision from Stanley seems focused on Noah but as Monroe and Cartwright pointed out they are all in danger.

That's a good catch Warp Rider about Ronak. Noah certainly felt overwhelmed with anger when he touched him.

So hopefully some of the questions about our creepy Vulcans might be explored [not answered] soon. I'm working on their conversation at present but have to get it right.

I know changing rooms might be the best course of action but I too would be leaning towards the shoot him option.
 
That's a good catch Warp Rider about Ronak. Noah certainly felt overwhelmed with anger when he touched him.

So hopefully some of the questions about our creepy Vulcans might be explored [not answered] soon. I'm working on their conversation at present but have to get it right.

I know changing rooms might be the best course of action but I too would be leaning towards the shoot him option.

I look forward to the next installment. :bolian:

Now... *starts chanting* "Shoot him! Shoot him! Shoot him!" :rommie:
 
Well it has been a long time since I've updated the story. It hasn't been forgotten, merely real life got real hectic. And I've found it very hard to get back into writing again to boot. Here though are the fruits of today. Hopefully, readers are still sticking the story and I hope it continues to interest and maybe raise a smile.

* * *
At the Start of the Day


Captain's quarters, USS Kestrel

The shrill chirping of the comm. made McGregor roll over irritably. A low moan escaped his dry lips as a dull headache lulled at the periphery threatening to ruin his day.

Kicking the last vestiges of the bed sheets off of his nude form he stretched and yawned before scratching the hair running to his belly button. His arm snaked out to the empty space in the bunk beside him. ‘Ah Harris. Where have you disappeared to so early this morn?’

The continuing shrill enunciator disallowed him from contemplating his alternative thoughts. He slapped the wall mounted comm. panel crossly. “What is it? I haven’t had breakfast yet you know.”

The voice of Caleb Dexter rang out over the intercom. “Sorry to disturb you Captain. But we do have Faraday on the blower for you.”

McGregor groused, “What does that prick want?”

“He wouldn’t divulge any details. But he is pretty pissed. No real change there I suppose. Not when it comes to dealing with yourself.”

Hocking up some phlegm, McGregor continued. “Must be my sparkling repartee.”

Dexter merely paused for a beat before he answered. “I guess that would be why he’s looking to talk to you captain. I’m only the hired help.”

“Not much use if you don’t screen my calls.” He barked back over the open channel. “Fine put his highness on. And Caleb I have a few plans for today. So you know, be ready.”

From the bridge an almost inaudible groan escaped from the reserved tactical officer. His tone was none too pleased as he anticipated whatever McGregor had lined up. “I’ll be sure to have my security teams on standby.”

A moment later the small viewscreen in McGregor’s quarters sprung into life. First with an image announcing an incoming message from Starfleet Command via Starbase Trafalgar on a secure channel before the visage changed to that of the stern and foreboding presence of Rear-Admiral Faraday. His cross forbearance tested at the prospect of calling McGregor it darkened considerably more when he took in the vision of a dishevelled McGregor sitting on his bed in what nature alone provided him. He didn’t resort to shouting but instead remarked in a cool voice with a hint of disgust, “McGregor. Put some pants on.”

Looking around at the floor around him, McGregor paid little heed to the Rear-Admiral. “Hey, it’s my room.”

Attempting to impart some seriousness to proceedings with the normally unprofessional McGregor, Faraday pressed home the nature of his business. “This is a secure Starfleet channel.”

Smiling in return, McGregor shrugged self-confidently, unperturbed at his state of undress. “Well then, no one dubious should get their hands on any revealing images of me.”

“Yes but I can see all too clearly.”

“Why thank you,” the captain returned in a coy voice feigning a blushing vanity. “But really I’m not that kind of guy. Besides, you outrank me – in some ways that is. I think you know what I mean. Wink, wink, nudge, nudge.” He gestured with a nod to his ‘meat and two veg’ with a lopsided ‘cocky’ grin.

“McGregor,” Faraday leaned forwards, the light in his room casting deep hooded shadows over his eyes, “whilst I’ve for a long time desired to have your ass – it has only ever been to see it skewered atop a very sharp and long pole and have you hung out to dry.”

“Ah! So that’s not why you are called a rear-admiral. I learn something new everyday. Never did understand that rank. It sounds like some made up position so some washed up hack can put it on gold letters on a little sign to make him feel important behind his polished desk.” McGregor beamed delightedly as he zoned in on the title plague to the front of the image seated on Faraday’s desk. “Not that I’d imply such in your case Rear-Admiral Faraday.”

Faraday refused to take the bait, but the colour in his cheeks was visible despite his dark complexion. “Of course McGregor. Just as I wouldn’t remark on how certain hacks find themselves posted to obsolete vessels well away from Admiralty because they are a huge liability.” He flashed a feral and toothy grin at McGregor before the smile slipped off his face to be replaced with a pout. “Now put on your damned uniform!”

“As you command.” McGregor bowed in mock curtsy. McGregor then stood and turned his back to the viewscreen, exposing his rear and as he picked his way across his bedroom floor, he deliberately picked up errant bras and knickers to purposely further enrage the Rear-Admiral. Scooping over he picked up his uniform trousers but didn’t proceed to dress in them until he scratched his ass. The Rear-Admiral just growled lowly.

As he finished putting on his tunic and hopped one-legged into his trousers, McGregor beamed a winning smile back at Faraday. “Doesn’t it make you feel better to know Faraday, that I put on my trousers the same way as you a mere mortal?”

“It merely surprises me that you don’t fall flat on your drunken face.”

Wagging a finger, McGregor corrected, “Aha. Hungover. Not drunken. Now what can I do for you?”

“Well perhaps you can explain the numerous reports and complaints my office has received from Aubrellis. It seems that the planet saw wanton destruction of numerous properties and space vessels. All of which my sources have confirmed belonged to one T’Hos Likk. All of which, I might add, happened when a Federation Border Patrol vessel was in orbit above and several away teams including yourself McGregor, were on the planet surface. Care to explain? I assume you are not conducting some sort of vendetta. The Kestrel is not yours to conduct a private mini-war with T’Hos Likk.”

“But my dear Faraday that is exactly what the Kestrel is for. My whim and fancy.”

“Perhaps others are content to have you run amok in some pretence at policing your sector of space. But I know for certain McGregor that you are a dangerous man who is going to get the people in his command killed. Now, explain to me exactly what happened on Aubrellis.”

“Well I cannot say for certain Admiral, but it seems that one of T’Hos’ competitors has taken umbrage to his latest activities and exacted some retribution in an effort to bring his business to an end. Alas, my crew and I were too late to prevent the destruction and are at this very moment investigating other leads into who perpetrated these heinous acts of destruction.”

“Cut the crap McGregor. Your dirty little paws are all over this. I need only to prove it and have you cashiered out of the service.”

In an innocent voice, McGregor extolled his virtue. “Well normally, I could only condone your fine sentiments. But it seems you are mistaken. My investigation teams have discovered the numerous explosions were the result of some outdated Andorian explosives used by many a profiteer to carry out such raids. Indeed only three months ago, the Kestrel intercepted a Ferengi Damon who had quite a surplus of such devices. Thankfully, we confiscated the lot and following due procedures had them destroyed. Remind me to forward the paper work to your office.” McGregor smiled again. A very smug and self-confident grin.

“Humph! Nicely played McGregor, you might think, but don’t be too cocky. If you decide to take on T’Hos for his attack on your vessel, be prepared for the payback. Don’t let your damned pride and ignorance end up killing your crew. But do feel free to go right ahead and get yourself killed by all means. Faraday out.”

“Chio.” He wiggled his fingers playfully at the Admiral as he cut the channel. “Well I must say, that has cheered me up no end. Quite the way to start the day. Time for some brekkie. I’ve a long day planned for us. Hee hee.”

* * *​
 
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