1138: Mission Improbable

by TC Blane and Zanh Liis
110131.0300
Following A Proposition Part Two

-=Ready Room, USS Serendipity=-

"Computer," the Captain said, "Locate Keiran O'Sullivan."

In the split second it took the computer to respond, Liis' mind flashed back to another time when she'd asked it the same question: the night after Keiran's miraculous return to his proper place in the timeline.

He'd come looking for her that evening and found her on the holodeck. After he'd softly spoken her name they'd said nothing more to each other; only danced slowly, without music until both were so tired they sank to the holographic earth of Cork and fell asleep. Artificial Perseids were still streaking above in bright blue swaths when they'd awoken hours later and had to part, to face their duties before they could really talk and begin to work things out.

How far they had come since that night, and how much, she felt, she had to pay him back for.

She'd developed a long and complicated list of things to do to that purpose. She'd jot ideas down as they came to her, sometimes stopping in the middle of other thoughts to save them for later. Often, she'd even think them up in the middle of the night and have to write them quickly down, lest she forget.

There were so many ways she wanted to show Keiran just how much he meant to her and finally, the time had come for one of those ideas she'd been saving to be crossed off her list.

^Keiran O'Sullivan is not aboard the Serendipity,^ the computer replied.

"Excellent," Liis smirked, then grinned, tapping her fingers together in anticipation. She knew where he was headed this day, he'd be busy for a good long while.

She strode forward to open the door and leaned out. "Thomas, a word?" she called, and TC Blane spun slowly in the command chair.

He glanced down at his captain, who, in this moment was quite a comical sight. Only her head was visible, and from the mischievous look in her eye, he knew that she was up to something that was likely going to involve him taking a field trip.

"Of course, Captain." He rose and nodded to Reece.

"Yeah, yeah, I know. Mind the store," Reece said, looking up from the PADD he held in which he was making plans for the New Years Eve party to end all holiday parties, to take place on the Holodeck. "Maybe THIS time I'll win the cup..." he muttered, as he continued reviewing the menu.

The instant that the door closed behind TC, Liis spoke. "What do you know about Christmas trees, Thomas?"

TC blinked, taken off guard by the question. “Well, they are green, smell like pine, and are not generally considered a tactical threat. Why?”

“I need one for my house. A big one.”

Blane's eyebrow elevated, but in such a small increment that no one but Zanh Liis would have noticed.

"How big?"

"Big. Huge. Like, big enough to block out the sun but still fit inside my living room at the house in Cork."

“Ahhh, so your talking like the Griswold family Christmas tree size.” He saw by the Captain’s look she had no clue what he was talking about.

"Griswold? Did they serve with you on your last assignment?"

"No, I... never mind." TC took a breath. "What about ornaments? Have you thought this through? Or am I going to also have to procure the tinsel?"

"Of course I thought this through." Liis picked up a PADD and turned it around to face him. "Mary Clare has a bunch of O'Sullivan family ornaments she's leaving in the trunk in my study for me to use. We'll replicate some new ones too. Then the rest we'll do up in lights. I'm thinking, pure white twinkling ones. Like this." She scrolled down and tapped at another picture to illustrate.

TC's mouth hung open a minute.

"What?" Liis asked, thinking he disapproved of the picture.

"Did you just use the word "twinkling"?"

"Are you sure you want to ask the question?"

Blane opened his mouth again, and stopped. He cleared his throat slightly and finally looked at the picture she was displaying. "This...is a big idea. I'm going to need a little help."

"Sure." Liis moved to the replicator, ordered a cup of coffee and then smiled at him anew as she lifted it to her lips. "Take Dane and Landry with you."

“Really? You sure we don’t have a couple of trained apes that I could use?” He joked.

"Apes we'd have to feed. Dee and Dum can just skip lunch."

“I take no responsibility for any property damage.”

"Just keep Dane off the furniture. You'll be fine."

“When do you need this festive conifer by?” he asked.

"Well, it is the twenty-fourth. Christmas Eve? So...let's say I want it set up and strung with lights by 5pm tonight. The ornaments I'll do myself when I get there."

TC's posture changed. Somehow, he'd forgotten the date. He had not, however, forgotten the time. "It's already fourteen hundred, Captain..."

Liis smiled at him brightly, no idea the miracle she was asking. "Still hours to go...shouldn't be too hard, right?"

*Find a Christmas tree, a big one, on Christmas Eve. Sure, piece of cake.* TC thought.

He smiled. “I’ve had more difficult problems in my lifetime.”

"Yes and I have been the cause of many of them." Liis nodded and clapped a hand against his back. "I have faith in you, Commander. Assemble your team...add a couple more people, if you want. Just remember who we're doing this for. Remember, this isn't my holiday but it is his, and it's important to him. Let's surprise him in a good way for once."

TC nodded. “Will do. Now if you’ll excuse me Captain I have a tree to find.”

He turned on his heel and headed out of the ready room. He tapped his badge as he took all three steps up in one leap and proceeded directly to the lift. “Steele and Cristiane report to transporter room two as soon as possible.” As the doors closed, he added an order that also served as a warning. "Dress warm."

*************************************

Commander TC Blane
Chief Operations Officer
USS Serendipity NCC-2012

and

-=/\=- Zanh Liis O’Sullivan
Commanding Officer
USS Serendipity NCC-2012

1137: Chapters

by Zander Blakeslee and Keiran O’Sullivan
110131.02
After A Heart Divided Against Itself

-=Ireland, Earth=-

“Go, Keiran.” Maggie insisted, backing slowly toward the house. “Before he sees you here.”

Keiran dropped his head into his hands and sighed. Maggie’s voice from the past still echoed in his ears, so loud that it took a firm hand on his shoulder to bring him back to the present.

“Keiran? Are you all right?”

O'Sullivan looked up, shifting in the pew and sitting straighter when he saw a young, familiar face.

“Zander, surprised to see ya here...”

Zander smiled weakly as he unzipped his duty coat halfway, now that he was out of the cold. Still he was dressed comparatively conservative compared to others that filed into and out of the church. Being a native of Alaska he found the weather in Cork to be somewhat refreshing today.

“I’m sorry to drop in unannounced.” He looked around at the church. “I can come back later,” he offered, thinking that he might have disturbed Keirann

"No, not'a'tall. I would...actually welcome the company." Keiran smiled, but Zander noted immediately the smile was thin, strained, not at all the normal manner of the man everyone on the ship knew they could turn to at any time for a kind, listening ear.

Keiran noted the concern in Zander's eyes and broke the lingering silence. "So. You've come a long way on a chilly morning. Is there somethin' I can help you with? Or," Keiran's expression changed again in response to Zander's, as the younger man now appeared even more uneasy. "Were you lookin' for the Captain? She's not in Ireland, presently."

“No, I’ve come to talk with you, actually…” Zander looked around. He had never been much of a religious person. Even with his experiences on Delta with his wife and the mystics that had help him find his way away from the path of vengeance and self-loathing, he never truly could find himself committing to the belief of a higher divinity. Even so, he found himself oddly uneasy talking to Keiran in the church, as if someone else was listening, and judging him. “Is there somewhere we can go to talk?”

"A walk, yeah?" Keiran rose slowly, as if testing whether his knees would actually stay beneath him. Satisfied they would, he took a step forward. "Crowded today."

"Are you sure you're ready to leave?" Zander worried he may have prevented Keiran from finishing whatever he'd come here to do today, but O'Sullivan nodded.

"Yeah. Am finished for today. Let's go."

The two men walked down the street a little ways, each lost in thought as they settled into a slightly more comfortable silence, one eased by the distraction of motion.

Keiran's mind kept drifting back to the church, to what he'd meant to do, but as each moment passed he became more certain that today, there were other things that had to take the place of those things.

"Commander," Zander began at last, running his hand up over his head and rubbing the back of his neck a minute. "Samthia and I, we've come to an important decision, and I wanted to tell you myself. After all you've done for me I…" he stopped walking, and Keiran did too. "I didn't want you to hear it from anyone else, not even the Captain."

"Is ev'ra'thin' alright, Zander?" Keiran immediately forgot his own troubles and focused intensely on his young friend. "Can I help you, at all?"

"That's just it, Sir, you already have." Zander shifted from foot to foot, and then remembering the words of his wife and his now former Captain, he stood taller, shoulders back, and looked O'Sullivan in the eyes. "I want to thank you, for all you've taught me. Not just as an officer, but helping me see things about myself as a father and a husband, too. Including being one of the voices in the back of my head that told me to say yes when Sam told me that it's time for us to put our family first. You see, she wants another child."

Keiran's eyes widened and his eyebrows flew upward. "I...see..."

Zander reddened a little. "That's not exactly what I came to tell you, though. I came to tell you that I've resigned, and so has Sam. We're going to settle on Seyalia and raise our family there. I'll take up my place as patriarch of the Wej family, at Samthia's side."

Keiran's hand elevated and he stroked his beard thoughtfully. A dozen thoughts collided in his head but it only took an instant for them to settle, and the contemplative look upon his face changed into the first true smile he'd had in days. His next words to Zander were direct, and sincere. "Good for you, lad. You're doin' the right thing."

"Am I?" The words were past Zander's lips before he could stop them. He knew in his heart he was, yet hearing O'Sullivan's validation caused that initial, knee-jerk reaction in him as when he'd first considered leaving Starfleet.

"Aye, I have no doubt of it at all. None at all." Keiran shivered in the cold once more, and he nodded to a small bar up the way. "C'mon. I happen to know that the Missus here keeps coffee goin' this time of day, for old friends. Let's go in."

Soon the two men were seated at a table with a pot of fresh coffee between them, and Keiran filled their mugs to capacity as Zander sat quietly, thoughtful once more. "Do you know, Zander Blakeslee, what I was thinkin' of, when you came upon me in that pew today at Christ the King?"

Zander shook his head and wrapped his hands around the steaming mug. "No, sir."

"Was thinkin' of my boy, Carrick. He had his first Communion in that very church. Due to one thing and another between his mother and I, I wasn't there. I mean, I thought I was going to be there, moved heaven and earth to be in Cork on the date she'd given me. Only upon arrivin' did I find out that it'd actually been the week before."

"I'm sorry."

Keiran shrugged. "Can't be helped now. But my point is, that's not the only part of Carrick's childhood I missed." Regret enveloped the Irishman's features, and for a moment, he seemed much older than Zander could remember seeing him before. "I tried, God knows I tried. Maggie, she was nothin' if not iron willed."

"At least you've had a chance to reconnect with the boy recently."

"Aye, have, but it's not been easy. He's angry, and justly so. I only hope he realizes he's lucky to have the opportunities he's been given and doesn't squander them."

"Would he?"

"By last report, seems he might." Keiran sighed. "He was supposed to be with my sister, Mary Claire, but found out that instead of goin' to the family dinner before Mass Sunday last, my oldest brother finally tracked him down. In a pub. Guinness in one hand, a cigarette in the other. Will be havin' a talk with him soon."

"Good luck."

"Thanks, gonna need it." Keiran sipped his coffee and his voice dropped to barely audible levels. "Do you know how many times I've wished that I could convince Liis it was time to retire?"

Zander thought about what their life had been like in time since they'd married, and he could only imagine. He sat still, just listening.

"Many, would be the answer." Keiran continued. "But she's not ready. It's not time, she's still too much she feels she has to do. However..." Keiran shook his head now. "We do not have small children. If we did, Zander, you can bet that I'd be tryin to convince her every bit as much as Samthia did you."

Zander smiled. “That’s the funny thing. She really did not try very hard. It was only discussed once. It’s like she knew I would make this choice. Commander Blane acted the same when I approached him asking for advice. He was like…see ya!” He shook his head. “It was a little bit insulting actually.”

"Ah, it's just Thomas is wise enough to know the look of a man who's made up his mind." Keiran said. "You know, we all hate for the Sera to lose a man as fine as you. Still and again, though, I am not surprised at all you decided this way."

“It’s funny how everyone seems to think I am making the right choice here. They have the confidence that I was going to decide to leave even before I knew what I was going to do.” He took a sip from the mug. “They were right of course. It was an easier answer then I thought it would be. I know it is the right thing to do, that it is time to move on. It’s just hard to close this chapter, you know?”

He looked at Keiran more intently. “Maybe you should start one of your own.”

Keiran frowned. “One what?”

Zander smiled. “A new chapter. A new family…kids perhaps.” He took a sip from the mugs as he looked over the rim at the big Irishman. Zander’s eyes sparkled. Normally he would have never thought about suggesting such a thing, especially regarding the Captain but he was soon to be a civilian and thus protocol really did not apply anymore.

Keiran's smile faded, to an expression haunted by clear memory from an alternate past that at times still felt too real to escape. He recalled standing in a field, the ruins of the home he'd built for Liis' around him, nothing still standing after the storm but the small building which held the cradle he'd made with his own two hands but had yet to work up the nerve to ask her to help him fill.

The idea of having children with her was a wish he felt had died along with her in that history. Still, at moments like this, he was haunted by what might have been.

"I...have my hands full with the one the good Lord already gave me." Keiran finally answered, forcing another smile to curl his lip. "Still, believe me, if Liis decided that she was done with the 'fleet tomorrow and wanted to have half a dozen, I'd certainly have not one single objection."

Zander heard a beeping sound and pulled a small communications device from his pocket. "It's my wife," he smiled at Keiran broadly now. "She is asking my assistance in packing up the circus that is the traveling Blakeslees."

"Far be it from me to keep a man from making his wife happy." Keiran stood, and so did Zander, and the men grasped hands across the table. "Be well, Zander. Well, and happy."

“You too.” He smiled. “Don’t be strangers, you hear? Drag yourself and the Captain to Delta for a vacation. I’ll personally crack open a bottle or our finest and we’ll enjoy it over good meals and beautiful tropical weather.”

Keiran nodded. A lump rose in his throat, as he considered an evening that seemed lifetimes ago; at a party, where they'd shared a toast, and he'd asked Zander a question. His eyes glinted in the light as he repeated that inquiry now. "Tell me about your soul, Zander Blakeslee. What motivates you?"

Hearing the question, Zander remembered the first time he'd been asked, too, and answered by paraphrasing the most important of the choices Keiran had offered him that night. "The love of a good woman. My children." Zander smiled. "My family."

"A true Renaissance man." Keiran said, just as he had before. "I always knew it to be true. I'm proud of you, Zander."

Zander pulled his combadge out of his pocket and tilted it, watching the light reflect off of it for a moment before he showed it to Keiran. “Still not quite retired yet.” He smiled. “Blakeslee to Serendipity. One to beam up.”

*******************

Zander Blakeslee
Former Lt. Commander
Former Chief of Security/Tactical
USS Serendipity NCC-2012

and

Commander Keiran O’Sullivan
Security Liaison
to The Alchemy Project
USS Serendipity NCC-2012

1136: A Heart Divided Against Itself

by Keiran O’Sullivan
Stardate: 110126.03
Time: Current

-=Ireland, Earth=-

The chill in the air was unseasonable for Cork, even at this time of year.

There was actually a frost, and everywhere you walked through town, people were remarking about it. How many years it’d been since they’d seen the like of it; how many more it’d be before they were likely to see it again.

Keiran O’Sullivan however, was too lost inside his own head to consider the uniqueness of the weather now. He only knew that the cold went straight through him, and he shivered. He pulled his collar up tighter around his neck, then cupped his hands together and blew into them, trying to return feeling to the fingertips that had gradually gone numb while he’d been too preoccupied to notice.

The man who had spent so much of his life carefully ticking off every passing moment of time to keep from being consumed by it had, in recent days, allowed it to overtake him. He had been so distracted that he’d made no note of the advancing date on the calendar, and almost missed the holidays, entirely.

Today was the twenty-fourth of December. It was nearly Christmas in Ireland, but even though he was technically home for the holidays after so many years of wishing it to be so, he found his mind continually fixed on other things.

His thoughts led his head to tilt toward the heavens above. His eyes followed an instant after, and he tried to peer beyond the heavy curtain of steel clouds firmly blanketing the sky, to imagine the Sera beyond them in her orbit against the black.

The whole of his being tilted, it seemed, to that ship so far and unseen over Earth. That was where she was, and where she was, his thoughts could never truly be far away. His right hand reached over and twisted the ring on his left, and he realized once more, all over again that the reason even the familiar ground beneath his feet did not feel like home in this moment was because Liis was not at his side there.

Home could only now ever be a location in which he’d see the fire in her eyes flash at him across the room. Home was only where he’d be able to take her in his arms, and to share her rare, and even more rarely shared moments of laughter.

Home could never again be any place, not even Ireland, in which she was not.

Keiran’s first intended stop in Cork today was the cemetery. Through the gates, and along the well-kept path, he made his way slowly, as he ever did, toward his mother’s final resting place.

There he did the same things, these small but significant rituals, that he always had. He'd say a prayer, and tidy up a little, and leave fresh roses; her favorite. He'd tell her how much he wished she was still walking the earth beside him instead of teaching the angels a thing or two up in Heaven, before settling to simply stand beside her a while in silence.

He never could predict how long these visits would take; no matter how many times he’d come here before. It was a span of time that defied planning or description, and only after he felt he’d properly paid his respects to the woman who’d raised him, could he bring his feet to finally carry him on.

Keiran was unusually nervous this day and he didn’t even know why- he tried to dismiss it as the phantom echoes of the uncomfortable emotions he’d been dealing with, ever since William Lindsay had left.

He worried about what Will might be getting himself into, in this moment or any other moment in a point in time far removed from Keiran’s reality. He wished he’d been a bigger man and in the moment they’d parted, he’d been able to give Will the forgiveness he’d wanted.

He prayed to God he’d get another chance.

As he observed his breath making small puffs of steam in the air when he exhaled, it stirred in him a particular, and particularly comforting memory: he wished, just for a moment, that he’d never given up smoking.

He trudged, at last, toward the steps of the Church of Christ the King at Turners Cross. He looked up toward the building’s ever overwhelming architecture, to the outstretched statuary arms of the Lord that greeted him. They appeared ready to welcome him into the sanctuary and offer him peace, but as unworthy as he felt today, he didn’t know if even being here could lighten the burdens that weighed so heavy upon his shoulders.

His boots struck heavy upon each step, and he nodded to people filing in and out of the building all around him, even so early in the day. He’d missed Mass today, but promised himself, and would soon promise his sister, that he’d do his best to be present for it tomorrow.

His aim in coming was to confess, though he found he was torn about waiting to do so after seeing the long lines of people and for the first time in his life considered just leaving instead. His heart seemed to divide against itself as he considered his family, and the last report he’d had about Carrick. Today, just this once, he wondered if the Lord wouldn’t forgive him for spending his time another way.

A young boy suddenly ran past him. The lad was dressed to perfection in a fine, small suit. The vision of his blond hair, which was bristly and fighting every which way against the effort his mother had obviously made to smooth it down, brought back a memory in Keiran so strong, he soon found himself sitting in the nearest available pew.

-=Flashback: 2378=-

His hands shook as he took a last long drag of his cigarette, before indignantly smashing its remains to dust and ashes on the ground beneath his boot.

He had been waiting awhile, pacing, smoking, pacing some more, and now at long last, he heard the familiar sound of the front door, squeaking open.

He’d purposely stayed just around the corner from the humble brick house that had once been his home. He couldn’t risk Carrick seeing him, but he just couldn’t let this go, either.

He couldn’t bring himself, this time, to let her actions go unanswered.

The moment to confront her was here, and he wondered upon seeing her naturally bitter expression how he had ever once thought her so beautiful. Features that had seemed sublime were now merely severe and disappointed. High arched brows framed eyes that had never offered him approval. Tight ringlets of dark hair that fell far beyond her shoulders covered a chest which held a heart forged of pure steel.

Immediately she saw him, standing by the gate. He waited for her to approach, never getting any closer to her than she was willing to get to him.

“What’re ya doin’ here, Keiran. You know that-“

“I just have to ask you a question,” Keiran said, his breath quickening as he fought back the biting tears behind his eyes. “How could you do it, Maggie? Was I really ever that bad? Did I ever treat you with an’a’thin’ less than…”

“Is over and done with now, O’Sullivan. Be on yer way then.”

“Over.” Keiran’s voice dropped. “Yeah, it is. Never to happen again. An’ is not that you just didn’t tell me, ya gave me the wrong date on purpose…”

“It would’ve confused the boy,” Maggie shrugged, “to have you there.”

“His first Communion. How could you just…” tears filled his eyes, and he closed them. “A day that will never come again. I’m still his father, Maggie, I should have been there.”

“Go, Keiran.” Maggie insisted, backing slowly toward the house. “Before he sees you here.”

-=/\=- Keiran O’Sullivan
Security Liaison
to The Alchemy Project

1135: All There Is

by Rada Dengar and Lair Kellyn
110119.17
After A Proposition, Part Two

-=Research and Development Laboratory of Lair Kellyn, USS Serendipity=-

Kellyn softly growled in frustration as she eyed the offending door. The sound of its chime more than annoyed her today.

It aggravated her to the point where she was ready to throw something big and heavy at the control pad with great velocity and glee and smash it to bits, in hopes of at least delaying the impending progress of any visitor who would dare to try to shine a single ray of light down onto her darkened doorstep today.

She just wanted to be left alone. She couldn’t simply lock it though, because the people who’d been visiting were too damned smart and too concerned about her tendency to, well, nearly die on more than one occasion to ignore the fact she wasn’t answering.

That intelligence would allow them to know how to override the lock in about three seconds flat no matter the complication to the passcode she set for it, and failing that, their concern would enable them to justify taking it to the next step. They knew how to take a hydrospanner and strip the whole works down to obedient strands of wires in about half a second more if required.

As the offending chime continued its grating call she eyed it coldly, just wondering why she couldn’t be left to deal with this herself. Reece had been by- supposedly to tell her that getting the window replaced between their labs, which had been one of the things broken in the melee that had taken place aboard ship during their last trip, was his top priority. Then, he said, he needed to get more Christmas lights.

Yet the sadness beneath his smile had told her why he'd really come. However neither of them could find the words to begin to discuss it. Eventually, when the realisation that it wasn’t yet the time to speak of it had struck, he'd kissed her on the top of the head and then he’d gone off to spend some time with his wife and baby. Finally he’d left her alone.

She had however barely had a chance to sulk before Rada Dengar had arrived to interrupt her solitude again. Being the genius that he was, he even arrived bearing an extra tall Mocha Latte, double chocolate with whipped cream and extra sprinkles, too, damn him. He'd further added a shortbread cookie, one of her few weaknesses from the Afterthought's vast assortment of bakery, though she couldn't possibly have imagined trying to eat.

The effort he’d gone to had very nearly made her smile, but its affect couldn’t last. Quickly the inevitable awkwardness of silence had followed- and he looked at her the same way he had on Earth when she hadn’t wanted to try to tell him what was going on that had her so upset. Rada, being as considerate, gentle and kind as he was smart, didn’t press her for long. He simply left her with her coffee and the thought that she knew where to find him when she was ready to talk.

She’d even tasted that coffee once after he’d left, though she found its warmth made her throat ache even more. Even the whipped cream could only taste bitter on her lips despite its inherent sweetness.

She was not a happy woman today.

It wasn’t that she didn’t understand exactly why Jariel was leaving- she did. She was even happy for him and Fleur, truly, that they’d take Pace and Tress to Earth, take up residence in the comfortable flat above Fleur’s bakery there and live a normal, sensible life for the first time ever. He seemed to finally have found some sense of peace, and she couldn’t have been happier for him. She just wasn’t sure exactly who she could even attempt to talk to now about Arie’s new issues with her Bajoran heritage if not the Vedek.

He knew Arie better than most other people. Though she knew he’d still be available to talk any time over subspace, she had hoped maybe some time in the arboretum gardening with Jariel would have cracked open, just in the slightest amount, the barricades that Arie had continually refused to let down for anyone else. Even Salvek wasn’t being allowed to see through them.

It was a hard enough time already and all day she’d gotten no reprieve. When Jamie Halliday had appeared mere minutes after Rada had left, that was when Kellyn had just about lost it. She wouldn’t have admitted that she did rather like the kid, especially after he nearly drowned to save her sorry ass on Sibalt. But still, today, her Halliday tolerance was lower than usual. The sincere look of concern that crossed his face before the smile he always wore returned and he bid her a ‘better day than she was currently having’ was almost impossible to stand. Now finally she’d been left alone once more and the damned chime was ringing again.

For a moment she picked up one of her heavier wrenches and swung it a couple of times, imagining the glass covering the panel shattering and raining to the deck with a sickeningly pleasing shower of color and sparks…

“Kellyn, please open the door.” Though instantly recognisable, the voice on the other side was unexpected. She hadn’t imagined he’d be back today.

She said nothing, hoping he’d just assume she wasn’t in.

She wondered though how much longer could she put off this conversation. Maybe it was inevitable. However she felt like a woman scheduled for a firing squad and was in no hurry to check that her fate was fixed.

“Kellyn, I’m worried.” Rada called from beyond the door. “I don’t want to short the lock but I will if I have to. We need to talk.”

Kellyn set down the wrench and rubbed her throbbing temples.

“Damn it, Dengar…” she muttered.

“Kellyn, Tam said something I need to ask you about.”

He wasn’t going away; she knew that about him, and it seemed he was likely to figure out what was wrong with or without her help. That was it, she thought. There was no hiding from this any longer.

“Ready, aim…” she muttered as she rose from her desk and approached the door.

As she opened it she found him standing on the other side, head tilted and eyes swirling with concern, as he held out to her a slightly stronger, less fluffy coffee based concoction, figuring by now she’d really need it.

“Before you take this,” he said, “I checked before I brought it and I know that you’re not technically on duty today.”

She was puzzled, until she caught the aroma of the beverage. It had a thick coating of cream over the top but it was no Mocha Latte. This was a much more…’fortified’ blend.

She nodded, and took the cup. As much as she didn’t feel like most companionship right now, the company of this drink seemed particularly appealing. “Thanks.”

Rada cast his eyes to the desk and found, sure enough, she’d let the first one go cold, untouched. Curdled whipped cream dotted with the remains of melted sprinkles foamed at the top of the cup, and before he said or did anything else, he moved over to the desk and retrieved it, returning it to the replicator for disposal before she could absently knock it over and ruin the piles of work that sat beside it.

She took a sip and nodded. She’d tasted this once before, at the behest of a certain Irish chief of security before he’d given up ‘the drink’. “The boys down in Engineering still call this an O’Sullivan Special?”

“They do.” Rada said. “I tried it once, and I had no voice at all for the rest of the day. But knowing you…” his words trailed off. “Well, I just thought.”

She began moving away from him towards the viewport, unconsciously trying to be as much alone as she could with someone else in the room.

“You thought I could use a good stiff drink, and likely you’re right.” She took a sip, slowly savoring the burn as it attempted to ignite something inside a chest that had gone completely cold.

Rada was clearly uncomfortable to be seeing her like this. His eyes shifted away from her reflection in the glass.

"I heard...well, I heard several things but let's start with the simplest," Rada began, clasping hands that didn’t know what they wanted to do, behind his back. "I heard you're not coming to Jariel's going away party."

Kellyn emotionlessly took another sip and again felt the whiskey swirling in its caffeinated catalyst try and fail to ignite her stuttering heart. "That's right."

"Okay. Fact one checked and confirmed..." Rada mumbled softly. He drew in a deep breath and exhaled it slowly before continuing. “I’ve also heard that for days you haven’t been coming into the café or going much of anywhere around the ship except here and your quarters.”

"True,” she answered monosyllabically, not thinking to be disturbed by how easy this drink was going down. “But I’m sure that’s not why you’re here twice in a day.”

“No, it isn’t.” Rada sighed, looking up to her and thinking this really wasn’t the type of conversation he should be having with the back of her head. He gradually stepped forward to at least being beside her. “A little while ago Tam came to me, confused. Apparently Arie has been acting strange recently. When he finally asked her about it she said it was just ‘how Vulcans behave’…”

For as much as Kellyn’s emotions were locked down at the moment, and though this was far from new information, she couldn’t help but to cringe as he said the words. She said nothing however, merely taking a further drag, bordering on a gulp, of her drink. As it slid its way down her throat, her eyes became even more focused on the blackness outside of the window.

Rada simply looked at her, sadly wondering how long she would just ignore what he’d said. Knowing her as he did, he fought the urge to sigh: the answer was likely 'forever'. He'd have to prompt her further.

“What do you suppose she meant by that?”

Kellyn drew in what should have been a steadying breath, but her lungs felt like a sieve in which the air just moved straight through. It was clear she wasn’t going to be able to keep this from him any longer.

“I suppose she meant just what she said,” Kellyn answered flatly, never turning to him. “She’s all Vulcan now. Her Bajoran half doesn’t matter to her anymore.”

Kellyn could almost hear the shock filling his face, while he just heard a distinct bitterness to her tone. She was clearly hurt, among everything else she was feeling, and that inevitably came out as anger. It was very much a part of the Bajoran heritage Arie was now denying herself. Unusually for her, though, the fire passed quickly, as streaks of lightning bursting with energy in a humid summer sky. Within an instant her face had simply gone blank once more in a very uncharacteristic way. Even considering the straight, fixed line of her lips, it was the emptiness in her eyes which troubled Rada most.

He couldn’t understand why this would be, but there was something more important for him to say than to question Arie’s reasons.

“I don’t believe that’s true. I happen to know her Bajoran half is very important to her.”

"It is more trouble than it's worth, she says." Kellyn finished the drink in several long pulls and then paced to the replicator, disposing of the beverage's empty shell before finally turning and looking up at Rada. In the full light of the overhead fixtures he could see not only the circles beneath her eyes but the color that betrayed even more bluntly how little she'd been sleeping.

"She's so young, Kellyn...she..."

"She's twelve now, but it's not her age that's the issue. It's the mind her genetics have given her; thoughts racing so far ahead of her emotions. She's brilliant, Rada. So brilliant. She..." Kellyn wrung her hands. "If ignorance is really bliss...this is going to sound like a horrible thing to say but I honestly wish she wasn't so smart."

Rada's shoulder's sank a little and now, he did sigh. "Not horrible. I- I understand why you'd say it."

A moment of silence passed between them, and Rada wondered just what he could say now to help his friend at all.

"How do you parent a child too smart to be happy in an imperfect universe?" Kellyn whispered. "If you can't take away the pain, do you let them disappear into emotionlessness no matter what it may cost them later?" Her voice shuddered as she tried to keep her composure. "She's not entirely Vulcan. Her blood runs hot and cold, and the in-between must be hell...and I just don't know what to do for her."

"Love her." Rada moved in closer to her and whispered his insistence. "Just love her, Kellyn."

"I'm trying." Kellyn dropped her head down, blurry, tear filled eyes only half focusing upon the toes of her boots. "It's not enough."

"It has to be." Rada answered, his eyes telling of a heady mixture of sadness and determination. "It's all there is."

------
Commander Lair Kellyn
Engineering Research and Development
The Alchemy Project

and

Lt. Commander Rada Dengar
Chief Engineering Officer
USS Serendipity NCC-2012

1134: It's the Most Wonderful Time of the Year

by Aubrey Church and Madeline Moth
Stardate 110123.18
Shortly after Always on Duty

-=Harrods Department Store: England, Earth=-

Starfleet cadet Carrick O’Sullivan was not an easy young man to shop for, but once Aubrey Church had politely and gently made the point to his mother that perhaps he should pick out the gift, he finally found something to his liking.

O'Sullivan had been Aubrey's bitter, irritable roommate in this, his senior year at the Academy. He'd done all he could to try to make the Irishman feel at home, at least in the small space they shared.

Carrick had scoffed at scones and tea and spent far too much time nursing a beer and sucking in putrid tobacco smoke, still, Aubrey had managed to make a little progress in reaching him.

By the end, O'Sullivan had finally opened up just a little, and for all the talk he had done about patching things up for with his father, he had never had the means to do it in the style Aubrey thought appropriate for such a task.

So, with his mother still insisting the horrid scarves were the way to go, Aubrey had picked out a full stationery set for Carrick, believing the young man would appreciate the chance to write his thoughts out in ink and parchment rather than just dictating to a soulless computer, as Aubrey had seen him do from time to time.

“Let’s get in that line, it’s shorter!” Beatrice Church said, giving her youngest child a gentle push towards a cashier who only had one customer.

“Right, Mum,” Aubrey said, moving to take his place at a respectful distance behind the woman at the register. She was speaking in a hushed tone to the cashier, and looked a bit agitated. He could not help but eavesdrop on the conversation, which seemed to be revolving around one of the items she was attempting to buy. He could not quite make it all out however, due to his mother incessantly elbowing him in the side.

“What is it, Mum?” Church finally asked.

“She’s beautiful. A little pale. Too much make-up and dressed like she's going to a funeral, but still. Maybe you should invite her to dinner.”

“Are you serious, Mum? That’s why you wanted to get in this line, wasn’t it? I don’t even know who this person is.”

“Oh Aubrey, but she’s lovely! When are you going to bring a nice girl home?” His mother asked, sounding frustrated as she shifted her heavy handbag from one shoulder to another before finally handing it over to Aubrey, who dutifully took the weight onto his own arm and, strong as he was, nearly toppled over in the effort to remain upright.

“I have my whole life in front of me and my first position on a starship, Mum. Not just any starship, either. I'm on the cusp of adventures I've never even dreamed of, the last thing..." he stopped, changing tack. There was no point in risking upsetting his mother's delicate mood so close to the holidays.

"I’ll bring a girl home as soon as I meet one I’m interested in. But right now there is a whole galaxy out there to explore and I cannot wait to get started!” Aubrey tried again to reposition his burden, shifting the stationary set from one arm to the other, and fumbling with the straps of Mum's purse.

Finally he turned back towards the woman at the head of the line, whose hushed tones were growing increasing loud as the cashier refused to comply with whatever it was she was demanding.

"The sign said that they are fifty percent off. I just want the discount the sign promised." The young woman insisted. She tugged on hair that was so black it had almost a blue sheen to it, yanking it into a frustrated knot positioned at the back of her head,

"As I've already explained to you... several times..."The sales associate, a woman who looked old enough to be Aubrey's nan, huffed, "the sign only applies to the other colors. Black is new for spring, and you'll find that this is actually quite a good value for the price. The thread count is quite high."

"Yes, it is and do you know how difficult it is to find black 1000 thread count sheets that will fit the inside of the shell of a quantum torpedo tube!" The young woman's voice rose even higher now, actually squeaking as she spoke.

"No, Miss," the woman replied, unaffected. "I do not. But again, the sign only refers to the other colors on display."

"The sign was TOUCHING this PACKAGE!" The woman's voice climbed another octave and got even louder. "How can it not apply to it? I want to speak to a manager."

"I am the manager."

The young woman growled, dropping her head into her hands. "Eight weeks of clean-up duty in the stinking, lousy, out of control weather on Sibalt and this is the welcome back to Earth I get."

Her mind flashed back to much darker, sadder times than that. To the planet of her birth, to a life she wished she could forget and only seemed to be able to when too tired to dream in sleep or waking, more unconscious than resting beneath the closed lid of a highly modified quantum torpedo shell.

She stared off into the distance, trying to lose the sights and sounds and smells of the life she'd long left behind, for brighter days that never seemed completely able to escape the shadow of the blackest ones before them.

"Miss, you're going to have to make a decision."The saleslady insisted. "Either purchase the item, choose another, or move out of line while you continue to debate our company policies with zeal and righteous indignation."

"This is totally against fair trade regulations. "The customer continued. "I expect you to honor the sale price!"

Finally, Aubrey could stand it no longer- he had to intervene. The line had grown exponentially behind them, and people were grumbling, tapping their toes impatiently and he feared that there might be a scene if this situation wasn't handled quickly and efficiently.

"Can I be of assistance?" he asked politely.

"Can you make them honor the lousy sale price?" The customer inquired with marked frustration.

He tilted his head curiously. "I'm not sure." Aubrey thought about it for a moment, and began digging around in his pocket for a few credits. “How about this, Ma'am…”

“Ma'am?” The customer folded her arms over her chest and dropped her head to stare down at Aubrey. It was a look she was only able to accomplish because of the enormous platform shoes she was wearing. "Just how old do you think I am!"

“Mate?” Aubrey offered the term generally reserved for greeting another male. The customer shrugged, finding it more appealing then Ma'am. “I’m shipping out soon and I’ll have little use for any credits. What if I just pay the difference in the bill?”

She laughed. "I should have known you were Starfleet..." she muttered. "That's very...strange...of you, Ensign, but-”

"How do you know I'm an Ensign?" Aubrey blinked, brow furrowed, perplexed. He'd always been told his maturity made him seem older than he was, and her assessment of him and the accompanying expression of bemusement threw him off a little. "How young do you think I am?"

"I still see apron strings." The woman answered completely sincerely, jerking her head in the direction of Aubrey's mother and lowering her voice.

"Now now, there's nothing wrong with a man escorting his mother for a day of proper holiday shopping for family and friends."

For a second her pupils constricted, and she seemed lost in thought. "No, you're right, nothing at all."

"Then perhaps you could just forgive the store their error and pay for your purchase so we can all get on with our day."

Her face scrunched up in disapproval once more. “But that doesn’t change the principle of it that they should have to honor the sale price. It’s not about how much I have to pay, it is about how much they are entitled to.” She wagged a finger at the cashier, who still seemed wholly unimpressed.

“Let’s go, ya cabbage!!!” A man shouted from the back of the line.

“What is that? What’s a cabbage?” The customer asked Aubrey. She extended herself even higher on the tips of he shoes to see where the voice had come from.

“British slang. He called you a dimwit, dear.” Aubrey’s mother answered, completely unhelpfully.

“Now now, everyone, let’s remain calm,” Aubrey piped up to be heard by the entire line, in attempt to gain control of the situation. “It’s Christmas!” He punctuated his statement with a cheerful smile, but the woman had punctuation of her own to offer.

"Don't remind me," the female customer replied, closing thickly mascara'd eyelashes for a moment before finally taking out her credit pass and swiping it through the reader. "Fine. I'll pay full price, this time. But I am writing a very strongly worded complaint to the head of this company when I get to my new place."

The cashier sighed with relief, placed the package of sheets into a shopping bag and handed them to the girl. "Thank you for shopping at Harrods."

The customer snatched the bag, started to say something, caught out of the corner of her eye Aubrey's disapproving glance, and then stopped. She took two fingers, pointed toward her own eyes, then back at the cashier, seething as she turned away.

"Would you like to join us for tea, my dear?" Aubrey's mother asked hopefully as Aubrey moved forward and paid for their purchase as quickly as humanly possible.

"That's..." the girl, began, then again, she stopped. "Thanks, but I can't, there's somewhere I have to be." She leaned forward and whispered into the matron's ear. "He's gonna get himself into a lot of trouble, that one, with all his do-gooding."

"Don't I know it." Beatrice sighed, watching as the girl disappeared into the crowd until the clomping of her platform shoes was lost to the song of the store's army of carolers.

"Pity the folks who have to work with her every day," Beatrice muttered as Aubrey offered his arm and they headed toward the exit.

"Now, Mum, everyone has something to offer in this world. Some people bring light and life to a room, and others...make us appreciate that fact."

Ensign Aubrey Church
Security Officer
Soon aboard the USS Serendipity

and

Lieutenant Madeline Moth, MMSc
also soon to be aboard the USS Serendipity

1133: Always On Duty

by Aubrey Church
110116.2100

-=London, England, Earth=-

“Oh, how about this one!” The slightly graying woman held up the scarf that would best be described by the word loud. It was red and green with large felt cutouts arranged into the visage of Santa’s face on either end. The eyes of the young man with her lit up.

“Is beautiful mum, I love it,” He smiled broadly. Loud and festive was exactly what he liked in Christmas themes whether it be trees, music, food or scarves. But his smile eventually fell off into a frown.

His mother saw the look on his face and just shook her head. “Look at this child,” She held up the tag. “It is a,” She squinted to read the name on the tag. “Emily Atchinson original. One of only ten thousand made exclusively for Harrods! Who would not love this! This cannot be replicated. This is a work of art!”

The pair stood huddled around the scarf rack, as shoppers carrying oversized bags streamed up and down the aisles and around the giant Christmas trees that lined the store. Outdoors, large fluffy flakes drifted down upon the streetlamps as dusk settled upon the City of London.

A large balding man holding a bag in one hand, and a visual communicator in the other approached the young man from the side. He was arguing with his wife over the link as he walked about whether they should serve the green bean casserole or the yams with marshmallows for Christmas dinner with his in-laws.

Without breaking stride or tirade, he slammed directly into Aubrey Church, causing the young man to stagger a bit before finding his balance up against a clothing rack. Upon realizing he had nearly injured another human being, the balding man snarled back at Aubrey, clearly annoyed that the collision had impeded his progress. “Sorry.”

“Oh, no problem at all, have a very Merry Christmas, mate.” Aubrey smiled back.

The man said nothing, turning his attention back to his phone call, “I don’t care about the sodding side dish anymore, just don’t cook the stuffing in the turkey like you did last year…”

Aubrey lost the man’s voice amongst the other shoppers and Christmas carols piped over the store’s sound system. He cringed as he saw another near collision, this time with a tall wiry man. Aubrey brushed a wayward lock of sandy brown hair back out of his eyes as he shifted his gaze to this second man.

The wiry fellow was pale skinned with a scruffy five o’clock shadow that had probably taken him a week to grow. His eyes shifted back and forth as he looked around the area. Aubrey had only one word to summarize the wiry fellow’s appearance: nefarious.

Mrs. Church was still shuffling through the scarf racks, examining every stitch and pattern one by one, and describing them in painstaking detail. She continued talking on and on, unaware that her son was watching a potential criminal like a hawk.

Aubrey followed the man’s eyes across the store, to the jewelry counter. At that exact moment, a woman in disheveled clothing began shouting at one of the attendants, something about being treated like everyone else. She poked her finger in the clerk’s chest, as the security guards by the doors began moving towards the commotion.

The perfect distraction. Aubrey thought. He looked back towards the wiry man, just in time to see him snatch a hand stitched leather wallet from behind a counter while the oblivious clerk watched the scene unfold at the jewelry counter across the store.

“Be right back, mum.” Church said. His mother did not hear a word, as she was transfixed on the argument.

While most everyone else had stopped to watch, Aubrey was moving towards the thief. The wiry man noticed the motion in his direction and looked at Aubrey, making eye contact for just a moment, before realizing it was time to run.

“Stop! Thief!” Aubrey shouted, before breaking into a run. “Call the police!”

The security guards made an unimpressive attempt to cut off the thief at the exit, which was foiled by advanced age, slippery floors and the influence of decades of chocolate donuts with sprinkles.

The thief skidded out the door, turning the corner on the snow-covered sidewalk as he pushed through shoppers to make his escape. Aubrey burst out the door a moment later, turning in the same direction, and begging forgiveness for every unsuspecting man woman and child that he dodged in his pursuit.

His feet crunched beneath him as he ran through the mostly trampled snow. His unbuttoned trench coat flapping in the air behind him as Aubrey passed from light into dark continuously with each streetlamp he passed on Brompton road. The thief kept looking back over his shoulder nervously as Church began to close the gap between them.

“You are in violation of the Sections 403 and 889 of the London penal code! By authority of Starfleet Security, I order you to stop for immediate arrest and surrender to Scotland Yard!”

It was no surprise that the thief ignored him, but regulations did make it clear that an arresting officer in pursuit was to announce his attention to the person or persons they were attempting to apprehend. The thief ran across an intersection, nearly getting hit by a horse and buggy as he did so. Aubrey added jaywalking to the list of charges.

“You are now in violation of Section 409 of the London penal code as well!” Aubrey announced.

The thief turned down an ally, with Aubrey now about twenty meters behind. As Church made the turn, he lost sight of the man, and stopped at the end of the ally. Judging by the smell of roast beef, shallots and béarnaise sauce in the air, they were behind a restaurant. He let his eyes scan the area. The lack of footprints at the end of the ally told him the thief was here somewhere.

The trail he could see disappeared into a multitude of large bins outside the rear entrance of the restaurant that seemed to contain leftover foodstuff such as fish guts, cornhusks and fruit rinds that were most likely destined for composting on the active farms that still dotted the English countryside. The bins were certainly large enough to hide a man that wished to bury himself beneath the scraps.

Aubrey crept forward slowly, and drew out a phaser that was tucked inside his trench. As he moved about the bins, the ground near the restaurant door became visible. There were several footsteps leading up to it, and a small wet streak down the face of the door itself, about the width of a foot.

He glanced around once more, before pressing his back up against the wall beside the keypad. Aubrey leveled his phaser at the bin with the cornhusks, and tapped the keypad that opened the door. The door held open, as it waited for someone to enter, and then slid shut.

Church remained motionless, not making a sound, as several moments passed. Finally, the thief popped up from beneath the pile of cornhusks, stolen wallet in hand, as he stared down the muzzle of the phaser.

“Drop it,” Aubrey ordered. “As a member of Starfleet Security I assert my authority to act as an arresting agent in this jurisdiction.”

“Bloody hell,” The thief grumbled, as he tossed the wallet at Church. “How did ya do that?”

“First, your weapon,” Aubrey said.

“What weapon?”

“The blade I saw bulging in its sheath in your rear pocket as I pursued you.”

The thief frowned again, as he pulled out the knife and tossed it aside.

“Thank you ever so much,” Aubrey said with complete sincerity and a smile. “To answer your question, the reasoning was simple. I knew from the lack of prints you did not escape the ally. A very nice attempt you made trying to fool me into believing you had entered the restaurant. Clearly you intended to make your escape once I was inside. However I noted that the cornhusk bin was far too full to possibly account for how much corn would be consumed in a restaurant of this size on a daily basis.”

As Aubrey continued, the police appeared at the end of the ally to formally arrest the thief.

“Your footprints ended at the door but the wet streak on the door itself matched the size of your shoe. It appears that you jumped, flatfooted, in the air directly in front of the door, before pushing off from the door with your right foot, and executing a summersault backwards into the cornhusk bin. A most impressive feat of acrobatics I might add, leaving no footprints on the ground for me to follow. Unfortunately the print on the door itself was your undoing.”

“We do we ‘ave here?” The policeman asked Aubrey. Church safely stowed his phaser back inside his trench coat.

“Wonderful to see you gentlemen. Isn’t the snow lovely? Ensign Aubrey Church, Starfleet security. This man stole this wallet from Harrods. He was also carrying a knife which you will find in the snow over there. He should also be charged with resisting arrest, and fined for jaywalking. There was an accomplice inside the store as well. A female, approximately 162 centimeters with shoulder length blonde hair wearing a gray jacket and blue pants. Sorry I was not able to make out her eye color but she should be easy to find. I’m willing to bet she shares a domicile with our friend here.”

Aubrey turned back towards the thief. “Oh, and by the way, thank you for not running again. If you were aware of Starfleet code 1144.09, section C, paragraph 10, subparagraph f, you would have known it is against regulation for a Starfleet Officer to fire his or her weapon in a civilian setting without prior authorization from a flag officer of rank Commander or above. Unless you had attempted to take my life, I would not have been able to fire upon you.”

“I think we can handle it from here,” one of the police said, moving past Aubrey to take the thief into custody. Church thanked them for their service to London, and exited the ally, making his way back to Harrods. As he entered the store, he found his mother right where she had been before, still chattering on about the Christmas themed scarves as she had been before the commotion broke out.

“Who known when you’ll be seeing your friend again, once you leave for this Serendipity. Don’t you want to get him something truly special to remember you by?” At that exact moment, she turned towards Aubrey, unaware he had even been gone, and held up another gaudy selection.

“I’m sorry mum, it is so lovely indeed, but it just doesn’t say Carrick O’Sullivan to me.”

***********************************
Ensign Aubrey Church
Security Officer
USS Serendipity NCC-2012

1132: A Proposition, Part Two

by Zander Blakeslee, TC Blane and Zanh Liis
110112.1337
Time: Hours after Part One

-= Blakeslee Quarters, USS Serendipity=-

The door chime rang, rousing Zander and causing him to sit straight up in his bed. He blinked as he tried to come out of his slumber. He glanced down to see that Samthia was still sleeping next to him. He yawned and rubbed the sleep from his eyes. He glanced at the clock, 07:35. He wondered if he was dreaming.

*Way too early for my day off.* He thought as he looked at his pillow longingly.

The chime rang again as if to signal no further rest was to be had.

“Coming!” He called out as he rose from under the covers and slipped on his pajama bottoms. On his way past the door from the bedroom he grabbed his robe and put it on.

“Come in,” he called out, as he approached the door and tried to look alert.

The door slid open and his two sons raced through to greet their father, one hugging each leg. The collision almost threw Zander off balance.

“Daddy!” The boys exclaimed in unison.

TC Blane walked in behind them caring the boy’s backpacks as well as having his own slung over his shoulder. He placed theirs against the wall out of the way and smiled to Zander.

“Welcome home boys.” Zander hugged them both. “Did you have fun?”

Both boys smiled and nodded vigorously.

“We saw geezers!” Johannes exclaimed loudly. “They were cool, and went ‘whoosh’ up in the air and they was hot and stuff.” He accentuated his story with flailing arms and sound effects.

Zander laughed. “You mean geysers,” he corrected.

“Yeah, that’s what I said Dad. Geezers.” He threw his arms in the air again with a “whoosh” sound effect.

Zander laughed again and TC cracked a rare smile.

“I am glad that you had a good time.” Zander tossed each of their hair. “Did you thank Commander Blane for taking you?”

“Oh yes, numerous times.” TC offered as both boys nodded.

“Very good.” Zander smiled. “Why don’t you go and tell your mom. She is still sleeping.”

With a grin both boys bolted towards their parent’s room with a yell of pleasure.

Zander turned back to TC. “Thanks for taking them. They don’t get off the ship enough and the holodeck isn’t the same thing as real life.”

TC waved his hand. “No problem. They both behaved excellently and handled the ghost stories around the campfire well also.” He smiled. “Row, Row, Row your boat was a good time. Make sure you ask them about it.” He shifted the pack of gear still over his shoulder and nodded. “Well, I should go and let you get your morning started.” TC turned towards the door.

“Actually, do you have a minute or two?” Zander asked.

TC turned back and looked at Zander; he could tell that something was up. “Sure, if you got coffee. I think camp coffee is the only coffee that is worse then replicated.”

Zander smiled. “Of course.”

Zander ordered up a pot of coffee from the replicator as TC took a seat at the kitchen table. He returned with the pot a couple of cups and sugar and cream. He poured two cups and sat down across from TC.

After a few moments of watching Zander stare at the cream swirling in his cup TC finally broke the silence as his took a sip from his cup. “So?”

Zander smiled as he realized that he was somewhere else. “Have you ever thought about your life after Starfleet?”

TC sat his cup down and leaned back in his chair. “God, no. Me as a civilian? The world isn’t ready for such a thing. Besides who else would keep the Captain out of trouble?” He picked up his cup and took a sip. “Why do you ask?”

There was a long pause before Zander answered. “Sam wants another child. Obviously we can’t do that here, space is at a premium. Plus, I mean, recently, the Sera has not been exactly the world's safest assignment. She’s ready to move on. Resign her commission and return home to raise the kids and work on the family business.”

Zander tapped his mug, deep in thought as he continued. “Her father is aged and she has no brothers to take over when he passes. She is the eldest daughter and Deltan tradition states that his possessions will then pass the husband of the eldest daughter.” He thumbed at his chest. “That would be me.”

“Huh.” TC took another swig from his mug. “From what I understand the Wej Winery is one of the finest on the planet. I can’t even afford a bottle on my salary.” He put down the mug. “What’s the problem? Afraid you can’t run the place?”

“No, of course not.” He looked at TC. “I mean, sure, I’m a little concerned about it. But I’m not sure I want to leave Starfleet.”

“Why?” TC asked.

“Well,” Zander stammered. “I’ve got my career here and I’ve invested a lot into it.”

TC shrugged his shoulders. “You’ve got more invested into your family. Right?”

Zander looked down at his cup. “Of course.”

TC leaned forward onto his elbows. “Look Zander. The Serendipity is a much finer vessel with you then with out you. I’ve have not known many finer officers then you in my time in Starfleet and I would choose you to serve with me anytime.” He leaned back. “But the Sera will survive without you. You have something outside of Starfleet that is worth more than Starfleet. I think you know that. Don’t let your sense of duty to the ship, or to your father’s memory, cloud your vision from making the right choice.”

TC finished off his cup and stood up. “Thanks for the coffee.” He laid his hand on Zander’s shoulder as he walked past to leave. “It was good serving with you.”

“I haven’t made a decision yet.” Zander protested.

TC smiled. “You will.” He walked to the door. “It’s an easy one.”

Just then Samthia walked out from the bedroom. “Commander Blane. Can I offer you some breakfast?”

TC shook his head. “No thank you.” He winked. “Keep in touch.” He exited the quarters.

Samthia glanced at her husband sitting at the table. He looked up at her with a twinkle in his eyes and a slight smile.

“Boys.” Samthia called out. “Take your backpacks to your room and unpack them. Then come out for breakfast.”

She sat down across from her husband in the seat that TC had vacated. “Xander? Are you alright?”

After a moment he smiled. “Yeah.” He stood up and kissed his wife on the top of her bald head. “He’s right. This is actually really easy.”

Samthia smiled, sensing that her husband had made a decision.

“I’m getting into the shower. Get a sitter for the kids. After breakfast we have to see the captain.”

-= Captain’s Ready Room=-

The chime for the door rang as Zanh continued to look over the repair reports from the dock master. She shook her head. How she would love to shake their reputation as the crew who was hardest on their ship of all in active service. Of course, she reminded herself, they also still held the singular distinction of being the crew who had finally taken down Taris, and that was enough as far as the brass was concerned to excuse the Sera's frequent trips to the shop.

She couldn’t help but smile to herself now, though, thinking how Dabin Reece had lamented the damage to equipment in his science lab on the Sera’s last little junket into the unknown and how he’d declared that if William Lindsay was going to set foot aboard her again it had “better be to announce that he and the singing O’Sullivan brothers were going to star in the thirty-fifth revival tour of Celtic Thunder.”

She signed off on the report to indicate she’d read and agreed with the content before it was sent to Admiral Lassiter, and just as she lifted her coffee to her lips the door chime rang. She shook her head and set the mug back down. "This is obviously not meant to be my morning where caffeine consumption is concerned." She lifted her eyes toward the door. It was early yet and her office had already been busier than a central transporter hub at rush hour. "Next!"

Zander and Samthia walked in and stood in front of her desk at a relaxed attention.

The look on Zander's face was one that Zanh could not recall having ever seen before, and slowly, she rose from her chair. "Good morning..." She nodded to Samthia. "To both of you. Is there something I can do for you?"

“Captain. There is no real easy way to say this so I am just going to do it.” Zander said as he exchanged glances with his wife. “Samthia and I are resigning our commissions in Starfleet effective immediately.” His face showed resolve and Samthia’s showed pride in her husband. “I’m sorry for the suddenness of this but we figured since the ship is at Earth and there are still a few weeks of repairs it would give you time to promote someone into our positions or for Starfleet to place suitable replacements.”

Zanh stepped back from her desk. She was so surprised by this announcement that she felt like the wind had been knocked out of her.

"I see." She slowly walked over to the replicator, taking a moment to compose herself. "Medium roast coffee, hot. Double light." The cup appeared, and she grasped it, guzzled from it, and then turned back to face the couple. "Can I offer you something?"

"Captain, no thank you," Zander and Samthia exchanged another glance, and Zanh returned to her desk and set down her cup. For a moment he was tempted to ask if she'd heard what he'd said but he knew her better than to suggest she hadn't been paying attention.

"Oh, I heard you, Zander." Zanh said quickly, her brow furrowed as she appeared to read his mind. He cleared his throat and returned to standing at attention. Zanh allowed a moment of silence to hang in the air.

"Lt. Wej-Blakeslee," Zanh began again after she was satisfied enough time had elapsed. "You have not yet spoken for yourself. Are you certain that resigning your commission is what you wish?"

"What I wish most is to have another child, Captain." Samthia stated serenely. "I desire to take my proper place in my family, and while I am grateful for all that Starfleet has given to me, it is time for me to focus on my children, and our future."

Zanh nodded, satisfied. She knew Zander better than to ever imagine he’d make such a decision for his wife, but for the record she had to hear it with her own ears.

"Very well. I would like you to speak to Commander Reece before you formally resign." Zanh said, glancing over at Zander now. "Just as a show of respect. He is the head of your department."

"Yes, Captain. Of course." She nodded her head in a typical Deltan fashion.

"Thank you. I wish you the best with everything, Sam, and thank you for your service. Now, if you don't mind, I'd like a moment alone with my Chief of Security."

Samthia nodded respectfully once again. "Of course, Captain.” She smiled at her husband as she turned away and left the room. Zander watched her graceful gait as she walked away and out of the door.

"Captain, may I speak freely?" Zander stepped forward a pace, the moment that the door had closed behind his wife.

"You've more than earned the right."

"You won't change my mind." Zander's jaw set, though a glimmer of emotion in his eyes spoke of his regard for the ship and its crew.

Zanh laughed softly, shaking her head. "I had no intention of trying to, Zander." She moved around the front of her desk. "There are just some things that I believe should be said between a man and his Captain, without an audience. Even if he happens to be married to that audience."

"Oh?" Zander shifted from foot to foot, looking down.

"Yes. I wanted to say that I know this choice could not have been easy for you, at least not for a moment or two, and I appreciate that. But I also want you to know that if I were you, I wouldn't hesitate to do what you about to do. You'll still serve the Federation, just in a different capacity. You've served this ship, and our crew, with distinction, honor and courage and I am personally grateful to you for your service."

He became aware of a hand moving into view, and he saw that Zanh had extended hers toward him. He grasped hold and she shook her hand firmly, once, before letting go.

"Be happy, Zander, above all else, and… do me one personal favor?"

Zander nodded.

"Tell Keiran yourself. I think that...you'll be very pleased with how happy he'll be to hear this news from you personally."

"Really?"

"Yes. He's been concerned about you, ever since Alaska. I think he'll be glad to hear you're setting yourself upon a path that'll bring you peace."

Zander nodded, remembering clearly his conversation with the big Irishman as he chopped wood outside the Blakeslee homestead.

“I will.” He smiled. “Thank you Captain, it’s been a privilege serving with you and everyone else aboard the Serendipity.” He turned to leave.

"Commander," Zanh called him back one last time. Zander paused.

"Remember, if there's ever anything you need, just say the word. You'll always have family here."

He smiled and nodded. “If you are ever near Delta IV. Stop in for a glass of wine.” As he turned to leave the door to the ready room slid open and TC Blane strode through.

Cleaned up and back in uniform, TC stopped and looked at Zander and then back to the Captain. He could tell by the look on the Captain’s face that Zander had indeed come to his decision.

He extended his hand to Zander. Zander took it and they shook. “Take care of yourself and the family.” TC offered.

Zander smiled and wistfully looked around the ready room one last time glancing at his soon to be former Captain. He turned back to TC. “You too.”

TC watched as Zander exited the room before turning to Zanh.

“You see.” He pointed to the Captain. “This is what I never leave the ship. Everyone gets delusions of grandeur. Or Chief of Security decides to go native and make babies with our stellar cartographer and someone decides to promote Briggs to captain.” He shook his head and smiled as he crossed his arms. “I’m never stepping off this tub again, far too dangerous to leave you alone with the crew. Bad things happen.”

Liis smirked, walking back to the replicator and ordering a cup of extra strong coffee, black. She held it out toward Blane as her lips turned up into a full grin.

"Drink with me, Thomas."

His ice blue eyes twinkled as he accepted the mug."To?"

"To happy Blakeslees, the safety of the Cairo and her new Captain..." Liis' voice trailed off.

"And?"

“And to the health of Thomas Cassius Blane, official 'puller of my fat from the fire'. Sláinte." She clanked her cup heavily into Blane’s, and he rolled his eyes upward as he raised it to his lips.

"Amen."

Zander Blakeslee
Former Lt. Commander
Former Chief of Security/Tactical
USS Serendipity NCC-2012

and

Commander TC Blane
Chief Operations Officer
USS Serendipity NCC-2012

and

-=/\=- Zanh Liis O’Sullivan
Commanding Officer
USS Serendipity NCC-2012

1131: The Package

by Rada Dengar
110112.2130
After The Black Box

-=Personal Quarters of Rada Dengar: USS Serendipity=-

Rada’s whole body was aching. His brow was drenched in sweat, his sore arms and back were crying out for a reprieve and he was probably in desperate need of a shower. Even still, as he stood back, arms crossed surveying a job well done, he was smiling.

He had spent the bulk of the day shifting everything of Wren and Tam’s back into the quarters they were always supposed to share. He hadn’t done it alone of course. Tam had very eagerly volunteered, and it was a battle all day to prevent him hurting himself by attempting to pick up items which were significantly heavier than he was. Though having missed out on much of the heavy lifting at the start due a shift at the café, Wren had also assisted at the end.

Now it was done. There was a peacefulness to seeing it back like this. For the first time he really felt once again like he was home. For this moment he could almost forget all that had happened since their quarters had last looked like this.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” he asked, as he looked out across the wonderful clutter of Federation standard furniture, assorted knick knacks and so much of the entirely standard requisite family paraphernalia

“Exactly like it was before,” Wren said with a smile, her hand reaching down to his and squeezing it meaningfully.

A sort of sadness suddenly crept over his features and Wren looked to at him with concern.

“Yeah…” His voice seemed to trail off.

“What’s wrong?”

“It’s just…it was so hard on you.” He sighed. “I’m sorry. That’s all.”

“Hey,” she said gently, stepping around in front of him now. “If you hadn’t done what you did I wouldn’t be here. You have nothing to be sorry for.”

Rada’s guilt made him want to argue but his new found sense of happiness with life told him there was something better to do.

He put his arm around her back and pulled her closer against him. He found himself quickly forgetting how tired he was supposed to be.

“I love you,” he said softly, his hand moving up to trace over her cheek.

“I love you too,” she said. She paused before adding with a smile, “You really need a shower.”

“Oh, such romantic talk…” he answered with an exaggerated, loving sigh.

Her unmoving smile however made him think that perhaps he’d misjudged the intended number of occupants of said shower. He added, leaning in to kiss her, “Romantic indeed.”

Just before their lips could touch however they were interrupted by the intrusion of the door chime. Each let out a slight grumble of frustration.

“Hold that…everything,” he insisted before turning to call out to the door. “Come in!”

The door slid open and the smiling face of Jamie Halliday appeared there. He had a brown paper package in his hands. Apparently he came bearing gifts, as well as the usual pearly white teeth. Though the timing wasn’t exactly great, Rada had to admit it was good to be seeing that smile again.

“Good news, Rada,” Jamie said, not appearing to notice that the two were still in one another’s arms. “You were wrong.”

“I’m sorry?” Rada asked at they released one another, though their hands remained joined.

“You know how you said if your luck held out we’d all be killed?”

Rada and Wren exchanged a glance.

“I’m pretty sure I didn’t say that…”

“It certainly doesn’t sound like you,” Wren added, though she sensed complete sincerity coming from Jamie.

“Yeah, you did,” Jamie insisted. “Ages ago. You said that it would be just your luck that the day you came back on board the ship after being away would be day it was blown up.”

Rada closed his eyes and let out a gentle laugh. Jamie always did have a way of phrasing things all of his own.

“Yes, I did say that.”

“Well, it’s good news that it hasn’t,” He answered and Rada agreed, though thinking about it to call it good news was naturally assuming that being alive is news to you.

Otherwise it’s really more of a good thing. People always seemed to say ‘good news’ though. No one ever just says ‘good thing’. In fact never in his life had Rada heard uttered the words “‘good thing’ the sun is warm and babies are cute”. Though come to think of it, they had often said “good thing we brought an umbrella” which personally Rada considered to be less important. If for example babies weren’t cute most parents would probably just swap them for a puppy, which are much quicker to housetrain and never want to learn the recorder. That would of course result in the death of all humanoid species and eventually a galaxy ruled by incredibly pampered poodles.

Still, even the use of ‘good thing’ in primarily umbrella driven happenstances wasn’t guaranteed. If you weren’t aware you’d brought an umbrella, like you were about to get it out when a really big hail stone hit you on the head and gave you amnesia, then it could be good news. Of course most people really don’t appreciate and declare the goodness of news when they’ve been hit on the head by a large block of ice anyway. Mostly they just complain of a headache.

Without even realising it, Rada was making Wren smile. She squeezed his hand affectionately. She’d been listening in on these thought patterns and there was something so very endearing about how his mind got so carried away. It was also just so very good to hear him thinking like this again.

“So what’s with the package?” Wren asked Jamie, her hand moving up and running patiently along Rada’s arm.

“Oh, this. Of course,” Jamie said, looking down to item in his hands like he’d very nearly forgotten it. “That’s why I’m here. The mail’s in. I happened to come across yours when I was picking up mine so I decided to bring it here myself.”

“That was very sweet of you,” Wren said, and she meant it.

Jamie really was completely sincere in his sweetness. She entirely suspected that he would in fact have sought out their mail deliberately just to come here and see them. Yet from him she sensed no desire or even capacity for deceit. He was simply a happy man who wanted to make the whole galaxy a little happier.

Though lacking in her Betazoid abilities, she knew Rada could recognise the goodness in Jamie just as well.

“Yes it was,” Rada agreed, moving from Wren to take the package from Jamie. “Thank you.”

Mail delivery of course wasn’t as big of an event on the Serendipity when compared against other ships that spent most of their time far away from Federations space. Still, there was something about arriving at a familiar port and finding something waiting for you that could just make you so happy.

“Which one of us is it for?” Rada asked.

“Actually it’s addressed to both of you,” Jamie said, handing the package to Rada. “I suppose that’s got to be nice for you, Rada. I know no one normally sends you anything.”

With anyone else Rada would have worried that it were a shot at his lack of social life. He never had to worry about that sort of thing with Jamie though. Maybe that was why they got along so well. The man with such doubt couldn’t help but to like the man whose intentions you could never doubt.

“No, that’s true,” Rada answered, examining with curiosity the small box in his hands. They’d never gotten anything addressed to both of them before.

“I guess you’re probably not that close with your family,” Jamie replied with a shrug of his shoulder. “I know I’m not a lot like mine.”

“They’re a doctor and three police officers, aren’t they?” Rada asked, handing the package to Wren so she could see and so that he could put his arm behind her back.

“That’s right,” Jamie confirmed; a clear pride in his tone. “If you want open heart surgery or to be arrested then they’re just the people you need. Yet when the power system for the house breaks down they always have to bring in someone who knows what they’re doing to fix it. Personally I'd rather do it myself.”

Rada and Wren smiled to one another about his remark, but said nothing. Without even realising it Rada’s hand was running up and down on her back.

“Anyway, I suppose you want me to get out of here?” Jamie asked warmly, in the same way the sky might do something bluely. “I know you must both be becoming pretty desperate by now.”

Rada’s hand stopped moving and his eyes opened slightly wider at the thought that the innocent Jamie Halliday may have some idea exactly what they were so eager to get up to before his arrival. Wren on the other hand sensed Rada’s thoughts and found the idea quite amusing, having to fight against her smile becoming a little too large.

“How do you mean?” Rada asked cautiously.

To Jamie the answer was obvious.

“You know, to open the package. I know I can never stand to wait.”

“Of course,” Rada said with relief, his hand moving again. “Yes, we’re definitely very eager to open the package.”

“Very,” Wren agreed, giving Rada a rather meaningful look.

“Then I’ll leave you to it,” Jamie said, just happy to have seen them.

“Well, thank you for stopping by,” Rada replied.

“Yes, thank you,” Wren added as Jamie simply smiled before he set off upon his merry way again. He only looked back once to smile at them again.

Then the second the door had closed Rada’s eyes were back on Wren, pulling her back into his arms, as he returned to the kiss they had tried to start before.

“What about opening the package?” Wren asked innocently when their lips broke away, her hands around his neck.

Rada seemed to think about if for approximately a tenth of a nanosecond.

“It can wait.”

Lt. Commander Rada Dengar
Chief Engineering Officer
USS Serendipity NCC-2012

1131: The Package

by Rada Dengar
110112.2130
After The Black Box

-=Personal Quarters of Rada Dengar: USS Serendipity=-

Rada’s whole body was aching. His brow was drenched in sweat, his sore arms and back were crying out for a reprieve and he was probably in desperate need of a shower. Even still, as he stood back, arms crossed surveying a job well done, he was smiling.

He had spent the bulk of the day shifting everything of Wren and Tam’s back into the quarters they were always supposed to share. He hadn’t done it alone of course. Tam had very eagerly volunteered, and it was a battle all day to prevent him hurting himself by attempting to pick up items which were significantly heavier than he was. Though having missed out on much of the heavy lifting at the start due a shift at the café, Wren had also assisted at the end.

Now it was done. There was a peacefulness to seeing it back like this. For the first time he really felt once again like he was home. For this moment he could almost forget all that had happened since their quarters had last looked like this.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” he asked, as he looked out across the wonderful clutter of Federation standard furniture, assorted knick knacks and so much of the entirely standard requisite family paraphernalia

“Exactly like it was before,” Wren said with a smile, her hand reaching down to his and squeezing it meaningfully.

A sort of sadness suddenly crept over his features and Wren looked to at him with concern.

“Yeah…” His voice seemed to trail off.

“What’s wrong?”

“It’s just…it was so hard on you.” He sighed. “I’m sorry. That’s all.”

“Hey,” she said gently, stepping around in front of him now. “If you hadn’t done what you did I wouldn’t be here. You have nothing to be sorry for.”

Rada’s guilt made him want to argue but his new found sense of happiness with life told him there was something better to do.

He put his arm around her back and pulled her closer against him. He found himself quickly forgetting how tired he was supposed to be.

“I love you,” he said softly, his hand moving up to trace over her cheek.

“I love you too,” she said. She paused before adding with a smile, “You really need a shower.”

“Oh, such romantic talk…” he answered with an exaggerated, loving sigh.

Her unmoving smile however made him think that perhaps he’d misjudged the intended number of occupants of said shower. He added, leaning in to kiss her, “Romantic indeed.”

Just before their lips could touch however they were interrupted by the intrusion of the door chime. Each let out a slight grumble of frustration.

“Hold that…everything,” he insisted before turning to call out to the door. “Come in!”

The door slid open and the smiling face of Jamie Halliday appeared there. He had a brown paper package in his hands. Apparently he came bearing gifts, as well as the usual pearly white teeth. Though the timing wasn’t exactly great, Rada had to admit it was good to be seeing that smile again.

“Good news, Rada,” Jamie said, not appearing to notice that the two were still in one another’s arms. “You were wrong.”

“I’m sorry?” Rada asked at they released one another, though their hands remained joined.

“You know how you said if your luck held out we’d all be killed?”

Rada and Wren exchanged a glance.

“I’m pretty sure I didn’t say that…”

“It certainly doesn’t sound like you,” Wren added, though she sensed complete sincerity coming from Jamie.

“Yeah, you did,” Jamie insisted. “Ages ago. You said that it would be just your luck that the day you came back on board the ship after being away would be day it was blown up.”

Rada closed his eyes and let out a gentle laugh. Jamie always did have a way of phrasing things all of his own.

“Yes, I did say that.”

“Well, it’s good news that it hasn’t,” He answered and Rada agreed, though thinking about it to call it good news was naturally assuming that being alive is news to you.

Otherwise it’s really more of a good thing. People always seemed to say ‘good news’ though. No one ever just says ‘good thing’. In fact never in his life had Rada heard uttered the words “‘good thing’ the sun is warm and babies are cute”. Though come to think of it, they had often said “good thing we brought an umbrella” which personally Rada considered to be less important. If for example babies weren’t cute most parents would probably just swap them for a puppy, which are much quicker to housetrain and never want to learn the recorder. That would of course result in the death of all humanoid species and eventually a galaxy ruled by incredibly pampered poodles.

Still, even the use of ‘good thing’ in primarily umbrella driven happenstances wasn’t guaranteed. If you weren’t aware you’d brought an umbrella, like you were about to get it out when a really big hail stone hit you on the head and gave you amnesia, then it could be good news. Of course most people really don’t appreciate and declare the goodness of news when they’ve been hit on the head by a large block of ice anyway. Mostly they just complain of a headache.

Without even realising it, Rada was making Wren smile. She squeezed his hand affectionately. She’d been listening in on these thought patterns and there was something so very endearing about how his mind got so carried away. It was also just so very good to hear him thinking like this again.

“So what’s with the package?” Wren asked Jamie, her hand moving up and running patiently along Rada’s arm.

“Oh, this. Of course,” Jamie said, looking down to item in his hands like he’d very nearly forgotten it. “That’s why I’m here. The mail’s in. I happened to come across yours when I was picking up mine so I decided to bring it here myself.”

“That was very sweet of you,” Wren said, and she meant it.

Jamie really was completely sincere in his sweetness. She entirely suspected that he would in fact have sought out their mail deliberately just to come here and see them. Yet from him she sensed no desire or even capacity for deceit. He was simply a happy man who wanted to make the whole galaxy a little happier.

Though lacking in her Betazoid abilities, she knew Rada could recognise the goodness in Jamie just as well.

“Yes it was,” Rada agreed, moving from Wren to take the package from Jamie. “Thank you.”

Mail delivery of course wasn’t as big of an event on the Serendipity when compared against other ships that spent most of their time far away from Federations space. Still, there was something about arriving at a familiar port and finding something waiting for you that could just make you so happy.

“Which one of us is it for?” Rada asked.

“Actually it’s addressed to both of you,” Jamie said, handing the package to Rada. “I suppose that’s got to be nice for you, Rada. I know no one normally sends you anything.”

With anyone else Rada would have worried that it were a shot at his lack of social life. He never had to worry about that sort of thing with Jamie though. Maybe that was why they got along so well. The man with such doubt couldn’t help but to like the man whose intentions you could never doubt.

“No, that’s true,” Rada answered, examining with curiosity the small box in his hands. They’d never gotten anything addressed to both of them before.

“I guess you’re probably not that close with your family,” Jamie replied with a shrug of his shoulder. “I know I’m not a lot like mine.”

“They’re a doctor and three police officers, aren’t they?” Rada asked, handing the package to Wren so she could see and so that he could put his arm behind her back.

“That’s right,” Jamie confirmed; a clear pride in his tone. “If you want open heart surgery or to be arrested then they’re just the people you need. Yet when the power system for the house breaks down they always have to bring in someone who knows what they’re doing to fix it. Personally I'd rather do it myself.”

Rada and Wren smiled to one another about his remark, but said nothing. Without even realising it Rada’s hand was running up and down on her back.

“Anyway, I suppose you want me to get out of here?” Jamie asked warmly, in the same way the sky might do something bluely. “I know you must both be becoming pretty desperate by now.”

Rada’s hand stopped moving and his eyes opened slightly wider at the thought that the innocent Jamie Halliday may have some idea exactly what they were so eager to get up to before his arrival. Wren on the other hand sensed Rada’s thoughts and found the idea quite amusing, having to fight against her smile becoming a little too large.

“How do you mean?” Rada asked cautiously.

To Jamie the answer was obvious.

“You know, to open the package. I know I can never stand to wait.”

“Of course,” Rada said with relief, his hand moving again. “Yes, we’re definitely very eager to open the package.”

“Very,” Wren agreed, giving Rada a rather meaningful look.

“Then I’ll leave you to it,” Jamie said, just happy to have seen them.

“Well, thank you for stopping by,” Rada replied.

“Yes, thank you,” Wren added as Jamie simply smiled before he set off upon his merry way again. He only looked back once to smile at them again.

Then the second the door had closed Rada’s eyes were back on Wren, pulling her back into his arms, as he returned to the kiss they had tried to start before.

“What about opening the package?” Wren asked innocently when their lips broke away, her hands around his neck.

Rada seemed to think about if for approximately a tenth of a nanosecond.

“It can wait.”

Lt. Commander Rada Dengar
Chief Engineering Officer
USS Serendipity NCC-2012

1130: The Black Box

by Paxton Briggs, Salvek, and Zanh Liis
Stardate: 110109.15
Time: Current

=0700 , USS Alchemy – Bridge=

The bridge of the Alchemy was shut down, except for a few important systems that were needed to run the diagnostics and security programs. Accent lighting along with the few panel lights provided all of the illumination on the bridge.

Still, it was enough light for Paxton Briggs to perform his diagnostic work. With a PADD tucked under one arm and both hands working a tricorder he made his way from station to station checking various thresholds and variances as he fine tuned the systems.

It was a habit he had gotten into when assigned to the Border Station Indigo. He had found the station interfaces were not often part of regular maintenance projects and that there efficiency was sometimes off by as much as twelve percent. Not really a lot of time when you are considering the nanoseconds it takes for the controls station to relay messages, but in a life or death situation it might make a difference.

He heard the door to the bridge slide open behind him.

“Ensign Carmin I presume?” Paxton called out without turning around.

“Ah… yes sir.” Came a shy voice from behind him.

Paxton turned around and smiled. “Right on time.” He tossed the PADD that was under his arm to the Ensign. She caught it cleanly. Paxton nodded to the tactical station. “Have a seat.”

Eliza Carmin came aboard the Serendipity just over a year ago as a communications officer, and while she had performed her duties admirably during that time and her performance reviews where good she wanted to do more. Tactical had always been her weak point and she had asked Commander Briggs for help.

“I’ve loaded some test scenarios into the PADD for you. Take them down to the holodeck and run through them when you get the chance.” He crossed his arm in front of him. “See what solutions you come up with.”

Eliza nodded, “Yes sir.”

Paxton walked over by the tactical station. “I wanted you to come down here this morning because I think we can improve your reaction times at the console. Go ahead and pull up the tactical layout.”

She touched the blackened console and it came to life asking for the users bio-signature. She placed her hand in the location and it confirmed her identity. The panel unlocked and displayed all of the controls and settings laid out in a neat fashion. Each of the panel's layouts were configurable by user. As it was her first time at tactical, the computer displayed the basic template.

Paxton looked at her layout. “Well I see that you have the standard Starfleet template setup. There is a lot of information here that you will not need in day to day tactical operations of a starship. Everything is necessary but not all of it needs to be at your finger tips.”

Ensign Carmin nodded. “So you think I need to streamline it?”

Pax nodded. “Yeah. There is too much to looks at.” He touched the panel and logged her out and then logged himself in. “See, how basic my panel is. My base screen has all of the information and controls I would need for basic operations. I’ve setup quick links up here in the corner for different situations. Such as combat, damage control, planetary survey, etc.”

Eliza nodded again and smiled. “Thank you Commander. I’ll design something when I run through these holodeck trials.” She held up the PADD.

Paxton smiled. “No problem, Ensign. Happy to help.”

=0930, USS Serendipity - Afterthought Café=

Paxton sat at one of the tables near the windows that looked out aft of the Sera. Normally there would be streams of stars streaking past into the dark heavens. But now there was only the bright blue and white orb of the Earth slowly turning in a sea of stars.

The café would usually be a buzz of activity this time of the day as the morning shift filtered in to get their coffee and breakfast. But with the ship in orbit over Earth, there were very few patrons in the café, which made for a quiet place for Paxton to complete his crew evaluations.

He took a sip of the hazelnut crème coffee that he had ordered before sitting down then turned his attention to the PADD in front of him when his combadge chirped to life.

“Commander Briggs, please report to my ready room.” The Captain’s familiar voice beckoned.

He tapped his badge. “I’m on my way.” He took another long pull of coffee from the mug and picked up his PADD. He pushed away from the table and made his way to the nearest turbo lift.

-= 0947, USS Serendipity – Captain’s Ready Room=-

Paxton touched the chime on the door to the ready room and waited for the captain to answer.

“C'mon in.”

The doors parted before Paxton and he entered and room to find the Captain leaning on her desk. Her arms folded across her chest a PADD in one of her hands. Over her right shoulder, Salvek stood with his arms clasped behind his back.

“You wanted to see me Captain?”

”We wanted to see you, Commander.” She did little more then shift her eyes in Salvek’s direction, and the Vulcan knew she wished for him to step forward and continue. Salvek circled around from behind her desk, and stood a few meters from Briggs.

“Commander, since the time you decided to stay here and we assembled the on-call command crew for the Alchemy, it has not gone unnoticed the work you have put in keeping the vessel fully functional and prepared for duty at a moment’s notice. I have commanded the ship by rank but the reality is I believe you know its intricacies even better than I.”

“So… is there a problem?” Briggs asked, a bit confused as to why he was being hauled before he Captain and XO for a pat on the back.

“Yes, there is a problem,” Salvek continued. “While your vigilance to the ship itself is exemplary, Starfleet judges its leaders on how they handle their crew. The Alchemy staff has come to trust you, and even emulate you. At her last review Ensign Carmin informed me that she would be seeking you out personally to assist her in learning the tactical controls. She felt there was no one better to instruct her. I believe her judgment in that regard to be impeccable.”

Salvek continued to speak as he moved back behind the Captain. “Our problem, Commander, is that your talents, in our opinion, would best serve Starfleet in command on a day to day basis. The Alchemy simply does not receive enough mission time to warrant keeping an officer of your caliber in this position. That is why, when Admiral T’Mira sent out an open request for recommendations to take command of the newly commissioned USS Cairo-A, with Captain Zanh’s blessing, I submitted your name for the position. I believed, given your service to

The Alchemy Project, as well as your history aboard the first vessel to carry the name Cairo, that you were the best fit to Command the new vessel.”

“I’m being offered my own command?” Briggs asked, wanting to be perfectly sure he was really hearing what he was hearing.

“That’s right,” Zanh said, rising from her chair. She pushed a small box towards Briggs, and opened the lid to show Briggs the new pip inside. “The Admiral gave me permission to make your promotion official. That is, if you want it.”

Pax stared for a moment in stunned disbelief at the box and the shining gold ornament inside of it. It wasn't that the idea of taking command gave him pause- he was used to being responsible for the lives of crew and civilians alike in his years in Starfleet. It was that as he watched the light bounce off of it, he glanced up at Zanh and observed the four pips all in a row upon her collar.

He thought about having seen them on Salvek at points, as well, and even on Keiran O'Sullivan.

Suddenly, he felt the full weight of the responsibility of the title, 'captain' settle upon his broad shoulders. The moment passed quickly though, and then he almost, but not quite laughed. He shook his head, thinking that this had started

out as any other morning- he'd never expected it to be the day that his dreams for his career were suddenly handed to him the shape of a small black box.

Zanh's eyes twinkled with pride as she pushed the box a little closer, giving him a lopsided grin. "So what'll it be, Paxton? Is it time for the longest ever detour in the history of a Starfleet career to come to an end?" The smile disappeared from her face now, and their eyes met for a long moment. She could see in him a readiness, an absolute certainty before he even opened his mouth to speak.

"Yes. I guess it is." He shook his head. "Not that I am looking to get away or anything like that. Well...maybe I am." He smiled to signify that he was indeed joking.

In a moment of unusual sentimentality, Salvek spoke. "You will be missed."

Paxton grinned. "Isn't that you will be missed, Sir?"

"Hey, this is still my boat." Liis warned raising an eyebrow. "Get a little dust on that pip before you start teasing the Vulcan."

Salvek nodded to Zanh. "Captain, if that is all, I have duties to attend to."

"Yeah, go on, get out. My coffee's getting cold so somebody has to get to work around here so I have the time to finish it." Zanh nodded to him, and then Salvek was gone.

Paxton had picked up the box and continued to stare at the pip. Zanh sighed wistfully. He had, in many ways, no idea quite what he was in for yet, but she knew that he would rise to any challenge that command presented to him.

In a rare moment of complete seriousness and sincere respect, she reached out a hand toward him- toward the box he held. "May I do the honors, Captain Briggs?"

"Of course." He looked at the floor. "Please call me Paxton." To him having someone who he had come to admire as a leader and a fine example of what a captain should strive to be should never have to be so formal.

"I expect you to remember this moment someday when you outrank me and I do something that lands me in your office." Zanh joked, as she affixed the pip in its proper place. The immensely tall man before her suddenly stood, if possible, just a little bit taller still.

"I will do that, but I expect that your first and second officers would never let it get to that point." He smiled. "Thank you, for everything."

"Salvek was right, Paxton. We really are going to miss you."

"The feeling is mutual." He grinned as he touched the new pip on his collar...just to make sure it was real.

Captain Paxton Briggs
Commanding Officer
USS Cairo-A

Commander Salvek
Executive Officer
USS Serendipity NCC-2012

and

-=/\=- Zanh Liis O'Sullivan
Commanding Officer
USS Serendipity NCC-2012