by February Grace
90517.14
During and after A Chair by Any Other Name
-=Officers Quarters, USS Serendipity=-
90517.14
During and after A Chair by Any Other Name
-=Officers Quarters, USS Serendipity=-
Waking from her most recent post-nap, pre-nap nap, February fought to open eyelids that still felt ridiculously heavy considering how many hours a day she'd been sleeping lately.
How was it possible that carrying around something so small could make you so tired?
Of course when one figured in the fact that their body was the sole source of nourishment, nurturing, and building materials for that small thing, it made perfect sense that carrying it around should make you tired.
Her heart started to race as she was jolted externally by the sound of a rapid pounding on the door and internally by the baby's reaction to that pounding. They both jumped and February sat upright, finding that she was shaking as she tried to get to her feet. "Hold on! The chime works, you know, why are you..."
The insistent pounding continued, and finally she just called for whoever was outside to come in as she hurried to put on her sweater, feeling chilled after leaving the warmth of the blankets behind.
"Good grief! You could scare a woman to death, you know, making a racket like that..." She wagged an unhappy index finger at the two burly Security officers, neither of whom she readily recognized.
She thought that they must've come aboard with the last series of new people while the ship had been orbiting Earth. Being off duty for as long as she had been now, she had lost touch with so much going on aboard ship. She felt like part of her was missing, being unable to do her job, and helping her friends in her own way to do theirs. She couldn't wait to get back into uniform.
"I'm sorry Ma'am but you are to report immediately to the USS Alchemy for immediate evacuation."
"What?" February folded her hands across her rounded abdomen protectively. "By whose order?"
"Captain Zanh. I'm sorry, Ma'am we don't have time to explain to every civilian family member of crew who has to go."
"Lieutenant." February corrected the ensign, her tone hardening to as close to truly angry as she ever sounded. "You'll address me as Lieutenant Grace, Ensign, and you will show me proof of those orders or I'm not going anywhere."
"Please, Ma'am, don't make us carry you." Said the second young officer, looking flustered and annoyed.
February stepped forward,
She realized that, in her fuzzy slippers, pink robe and maternity pajamas she was hardly the portrait of Starfleet professionalism in this moment, but still, she'd earned her rank and this brat was going to acknowledge it. She curled and uncurled the same deceptively fragile looking index finger, beckoning him closer with an overly sweet smile that concealed the kind of seething, boiling rage that only a hormone-possessed woman in the final stages of pregnancy was capable of.
As he leaned in, she grabbed a handful of his tunic and yanked him closer. He fought the urge to squeal in pain as she managed to uproot several of his chest hairs as his shirt tightened, winched by fingertips strengthened by years of guitar practice.
"Listen, Mac, see these spots? My symbiont has been in Starfleet since before your great-great grandparents ever laid eyes on each other. Not to mention the fact that though I am on medical leave that I am still Chief Flight Controller on this boat and I OUTRANK BOTH OF YOU! So tell me why we're evacuating or I'm not going anywhere!"
"I'm sorry Lieutenant Grace," the first young man said, suddenly realizing whom it was he was addressing. "But we don't have any further information. We were only told that your name is on the list of evacuees and you have to go now."
The way he stressed the last word scared February- because he had given absolutely no indication that anyone else from the Senior Staff was to be going along with her.
She spun, wobbling a little as she realized just how much her personal center of gravity had shifted, and hurried as quickly as she could given her current condition to retrieve her combadge.
"Grace to Reece."
There was no response.
"The ship is at Red Alert, Lieutenant." The second security guard informed, his hand still pressed against his smarting chest. "They won't answer you."
"Like hell they won't. I want to talk to Commander O'Sullivan right now." February figured that if anyone aboard ship with knowledge of what was happening might be anywhere other than on the bridge at the moment, it'd be Keiran.
"He's on the Zenith. I'm sorry, Lieutenant but we really don't have time for this. You have sixty seconds in which to decide if you want to take anything with you aboard the Alchemy or we will be forced to take you there against your will if necessary."
February sighed. She couldn't reach Dabin, but she didn't need to in order to know that whatever was happening, it was bad, and that he was going to have to stay at his post.
"That won't be necessary," her voice and face now bore the weight and sorrow of her reluctant resignation. "Let me grab a few things."
As she looked around her, suddenly she had no idea what it was she should take. What did one take from their home- given merely an instant to decide what it was that they'd want to have to remember everything else by?
She looked around at the images of she and Dabin that were scattered in frames around the rooms. She considered taking one, then stopped herself.
She found her eyes flooding with a sudden torrent of tears. She looked at her crochet bag, hooks and yarn and half finished baby hats and booties.
She left it where it sat.
Finally, she heard a small sound and felt something soft brush against her leg, and she realized what it was that she had to take with her.
"Grab the carrier. It's in the front closet." She instructed the guards. She attempted to bend over to pick up the cat, but found she was unable to see her toes let alone reach them, or him.
Unhappy as he saw his carrier coming toward him, Sparrow backed up and hissed.
"Grab him." February instructed, and without hesitation the first guard dove after the cat. He managed to grasp a handful of fur, and received racing stripes down his arms and hands from the frightened animal as a thank you.
"Sorry." Bru winced.
"Is all right, Lieutenant." The man said, as he and his partner wrangled the still spitting cat into the carrier and zipped it shut. "Anything else?"
"No, I," February suddenly felt dizzy, overwhelmed physically and emotionally. She leaned against the wall, trying to catch her breath and soon found strong arms supporting her on either side.
Moments later and without really knowing exactly how she'd gotten there, she found herself being led up the Alchemy's ramp and aboard the ship. She looked up, dazed, and felt her heart race and sink at the sight of a familiar face.
"Jariel," She droned, as Camen took hold of her from the Security guard who was still supporting her weight. "What's going on?"
Jariel's eyes said it all, as he gestured for Gillan Pace, standing to his left, to take the cat carrier. February was the last passenger they'd been waiting on to come aboard- now the hatch could be sealed, and the Alchemy could launch.
She didn't ask him if Dabin was here; if he had been, he would've been the one waiting for her at the door.
"Come on, little Angel." Jariel said gently. "Let's find a quiet place for you to lie down."
Their steps faltered a moment as the ship began to move, in that instant of lag time between the inertial dampeners kicking in and the Alchemy's initial forward motion. Jariel clasped February tighter, holding her steady.
As he led her forward, February's head instinctively turned back. Tears spilled down her face once again as she hoped that everything, and everyone, would be exactly as she left them when she was again allowed to come home.
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Lt. February Grace
Chief Flight Controller
USS Serendipity NCC-2012
Lt. February Grace
Chief Flight Controller
USS Serendipity NCC-2012