[Uss Juno] Old Friends, (Pt. 2)

Posted on Fri Aug 3rd, 2018 @ 8:02am by Ensign Pecia
Edited on on Fri Aug 3rd, 2018 @ 8:02am

1,316 words; about a 7 minute read

Mission: [USS Shanghai] S1, E3: Down Time
Location: Relay 114
Timeline: 5/18/2394, 17:30 Hrs

Small as the satellite was, Relay 114's mess hall felt more like a closet than anything else. Pecia had ordered a traditional Yridian dish from the replicator and taken a spot at one of the two circular tables that occupied the majority of the space in the room. All told, there was only seating for eight, so with a nine person crew, it was a good thing meal times were staggered. Since she wasn't actually part of that crew compliment, Pecia had been able to knock off early and get to the mess before any of the others. She wasn't feeling particularly competitive regarding the seating arrangement. The flight out to the intelligence station from Deep Space 9 was not a short one, and she was simply hungry. The food didn't have the right amount of spice though, and she found it rather bland compared to the home-cooked version her mother had prepared many times during Pecia's childhood. Regardless of the taste however, she continued to eat it rather than try and replicate a better facsimile just to abate the ache in her stomach.

Focused as she was on her food, the intelligence officer still had time to dwell on work. The recent activity of Lek Lek Asur was troubling. A smuggler and bounty hunter from the far side of the wormhole, Asur was a four-armed, blue-skinned alien with an elongated cranium and pupil-less yellow eyes. He had also been a continuing thorn in Starfleet Intelligence's side for years. No one had ever been able to pin down exactly how Asur had begun working with the Cardassian True Way movement. And no one had been able to lay a hand on him to stop him from supplying the terrorist organization with weapons, medical supplies, and other goods. Pecia herself had participated in two separate raids on Asur's vessel, but in both situations no illicit goods were able to be located and they were forced to let him go on his way. She was certain that there was some way he was hiding or disguising his illegal cargo, but damned if she could figure out what it was.

"Credit for your thoughts," a familiar voice snapped Pecia back to reality. She turned her head and stared up the fair complected human who had crept up behind her. Not exactly an unusual occurrence when working in a field dominated by spies and covert operatives. Alexander Rowe, was one of the best and had risen to the rank of chief petty officer in nearly record time. He was wearing a light jacket over his Starfleet uniform and held a phaser pistol in his left hand. The tasteless replicated biomatter on her plate forgotten at Alexander's arrival, she nearly leapt from her chair. She had seen him across the command center, but had no convenient excuse to interrupt whatever he'd been working on. Now, with a few moments alone, she pressed her lips to his without speaking a word and engaged the human man in a long, passionate kiss. Alexander wrapped one arm around her back and with his eyes closed, nearly lost in the moment, managed to stow his weapon the tabletop.

Once their lips parted Alexander put his hands on Pecia's shoulders and held her there for another moment taking in the sight of her. The mottled skin in various shades of brown and tan, the tiny spiky ridges that ran along her face and shoulders; her long chestnut colored hair - all of combining into a singular alien appearance the likes of which he'd never seen anywhere else. "Scratch that," he said finally. "Thanks to the... warm welcome... don't really have time for what you're thinking right now. You've gotta be on Empok Nor in six days, right?"

"That's right," Pecia said, catching her breath after their embrace. "Why?"

"I've got an op. You wanna ride shotgun?" Alexander asked, releasing his grip on her and retrieving his gun from the table behind her.

Pecia spun and grabbed that half-devoured meal from the table and started toward the replicator. "That sounds much better than this tastes," she quipped as the food dissolved back into atomic particles in a swirl of blue-white wisps.

Moments later the pair entered the shuttlebay where the rest of their team was busy prepping the runabout Drake for departure. The standard pre-flight checks were an easy routine for the various team members on Relay 114, but no one could perform them quicker then Ensign Oora, their primary pilot. Having fled the Talarian Republic as a child with her mother, Oora barely remembered her home planet, a Talarian colony world near the Federation border. From the time she was a small child, the Federation was the only home she had ever known. While she was now a Federation citizen, the road to attaining her citizenship was long and frustrating, and also caused delays in beginning her Starfleet career. "Glad you're joining us Miss Pecia," Oora said as she tossed her long white braids over her shoulder and closed the access panel in the port nacell she was working on.

Pecia broke away from Alexander and increased the speed of her gait. "O," she said, addressing the young officer informally, "glad to know there's going to a steady hand behind the stick." She glanced back at Alexander and winked, silently reminding him of the time he had crashed their shuttle on Traelor II.

"Good to see you too Faryn," Pecia said, kicking a pair of black of boot sticking out from underneath the runabout.

"How'd you know it was me?" the Trill ensign asked incredulously as he rolled out from beneath the vessel. Unjoined, as he had never even pursued the idea for himself, the dark haired young man was a gifted mechanic.

"You're the only one on the team who wears a size thirteen boot," she chucked and reached down to help him to his feet. Given that Faryn's bulky frame was all muscle, she wasn't providing any real aid, just a bit of leverage. As he came to his full height, towering over Pecia at more than six feet tall, he joined in her laughter.

"All systems go, chief," the Trill said as he regained his composure and turned his attention to Alexander.

"Then let's get going," Alexander said and led the way through the runabout's hatch.

Oora followed immediately behind him but passed him once inside the vehicle and made her way to the pilot's seat the front of the craft. Alexander sat down behind her at the tactical station. As their took their posts both their hands went straight to the controls, activating their respective consoles. Pecia came in behind them and took the seat at the science station, though she bucked the trend and left the panel inactive. Faryn brought up the rear and closed the hatch, before he joined Oora at the front and configured the controls for ship's operations.

"Depressuring shuttlebay," Faryn said a moment later as the large doors began to open, venting atmosphere into space. The shuttle that had brought Pecia to the station remained firmly in place, secured to the deck with powerful magnetic locks.

Oora piped up next and stated, "Engaging maneuvering thrusters." The Drake moved forward gently at first, then rushed forward, picking up speed as they entered the space outside the station. Her fingers moved deftly over the controls bringing the runabout around the station in a wide arc, flying the opposite direction from the shuttlebay.

"Closing bay doors," Faryn advised from the starboard station.

With the craft underway to the destination, Oora enabled the auto-navigation sequence. "Ready to begin the briefing chief?"

Pecia grinned. "Yes, Alexander, let's start with where we're heading?"

The chief petty officer turned his seat to face the others. "You know the place," he said coyly. "Just came from there, actually. I'm taking you back to Deep Space 9."

 

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