A Needed Distraction
Posted on 01 May 2021 @ 12:02pm by Captain Markus Hawthorne & Commander Bruce Kensforth
Mission:
M2 - Sanctuary
Location: Stardock Section
Timeline: MD04 - 1145HRS
1927 words - 3.9 OF Standard Post Measure
It hurt to see her that way, there was no other way to say it. To see his baby just dismantled like that, even if it was for her own good, hit him so deep to the core that it was almost impossible to quantify. To articulate it into words would have required a mental capacity no human possessed. Captain Markus Hawthorne looked on a the dockyard crew separated the upper section of the arch of his baby, the USS Ardeshir from its housing and powered it away through the void. He knew it was for her own good, that the upgrade to the sensor arch and pod launchers would give them a clarity of signal they wouldn’t have thought possible considering how clear the older version had been. But it still hurt him deeply to see his baby, his home, cut apart and left formless.
The Luna’s refit had been something that Markus had been trying to put off for some time. He’d been successful for the most part, hiding behind the relative turmoil in the Aurellian Belt and hitching his wagon to Admiral Sepandiyar. So long as the old man needed him and the Ardeshir they could avoid the six month downtime that came with the complete refit that the Luna-class needed. It wasn’t that they didn’t need the new equipment, or that their engineering decks couldn’t use the overhaul. How many times had Doctor Oakheart told him that he was nearly down to holding it all together with duck tape and hope. It’s just that he hated being down. He hated the idea of sitting idle on a starbase for six months waiting for the construction crews to finish. Markus had no desire to take a seaside vacation somewhere, or visit some family retreat back on Sol. His home was right there, hitched the station and steadily being broken down into several pieces.
Markus turned away from the viewport and stepped behind the officer working at the facing terminal; one of the many engineers that managed the refit operation. She tried to keep on with her work, but he didn’t have to be a telepath to see that he was an irritant to her. To all of them. Truth be told, he didn’t know where else to be. It was either here, or going stir crazy in his quarters. He’d tried the former, for Alicia’s sake - they’d never really had time off like this together. They’d gone to dinner at a few of the nice new establishments on the station, spent hours in the holodeck, even slept in for the first time ever. But even she had to admit he had to get out and find something else to occupy him before he drove her up the wall.
Arms folded, watching the terminal carefully, Markus was about to comment to the Ensign about what she was queuing up the yard crew to do when a voice interrupted him.
“Captain,” a familiar voice intoned, “Thought I’d find you here, can I get a word?” The familiar voice asked, each syllable heavy with a Kiwi accent.
Markus turned over his shoulder to see Commander Bruce Kensforth smiling from near the doorway. His First Officer looked like life on the station suited him. One of his ‘not going mad’ activities of late had been keeping a close eye on all his senior staff still aboard, so he knew that Kensforth had enjoyed tons of holodeck time, frequented every bar that sold spirits nightly and had logged more than enough hours in the stations fighter craft to meet his qualification requirements for the craft and then some.
He knew that, just like him, he was going stir crazy sitting around this station without a mission or task. But unlike Markus, Bruce was perfectly capable of letting his hair down and going three sheets to the wind. Luckily for Bruce, he’d learned where to draw the line. Something he’d not been so skilled at when they’d first met.
When Bruce had first come aboard the Ardeshir he’d been a simple liaison. There for a specific mission for a specific purpose and once that mission was over, he was meant to return to Fleet. That mission turned into two, then more. The man that had come aboard all those years ago was a cock-sure, arrogant pilot that had no problem telling everyone just how good he was. The only problem with that was - he was that good. It just needled everyone else to hear him tell you. He had a problem with booze after hours, a problem with women and generally had a lackadaisical approach to everything. Markus could only figure that Starfleet kept him around because he had been damaged on their watch, and because despite his damage he was probably one of the best pilots (and certainly most experienced) they had. That had all been the Bruce before. Before Markus had seen the potential in that rusty, cranky exterior and before Elise had beat the stupid out of him.
Lieutenant Commander Elise Rochambeau had been Markus’ Chief Security and Tactical Officer for years. A good solid tactician and one hell of a firecracker. He’d personally seen her handle more than one Nausicaan in a straight fight and walk away without a scratch so to him it wasn’t that surprising that she’d walked right into a relationship with Kensforth and had scrapped her way through it. She’d beaten sense into the man somehow and turned him from a half-drunk, cocksure fighter jock into the steady-handed Officer Markus knew he had in him. But, even though the relationship didn’t stand the test of time, the changes she’d made in Bruce had.
When his former Executive Officer, Commander Jordyn, had been offered her own command Markus didn’t hesitate for a moment to reach out to Kensforth and offer him the spot. He’d drifted long enough, and improved himself greatly with the help of Elise. It was time he put that all to good use as his new First Officer.
Markus turned reluctantly away from the terminal, ignoring the sigh of relief from the Ensign not to have someone over her shoulder anymore, and joined Bruce by the door. The younger man gestured out and led the way so that he had to follow.
“I’d like to keep an eye on the refit,” Markus offered as he walked through the door.
“I’m sure you’ll have time to hover over their shoulders ominously later, skip,” Bruce replied with a smirk, “Got something you’d like to see.”
Markus sighed, but followed. Bruce wasn’t wrong, he could always come back, and it wasn’t like he had anything else to be getting on with. Sepandiyar had suggested he go to Sol, or to Risa. Take his wife and go be free somewhere without any responsibility, but they both knew that wouldn’t happen. Just as Sep would’t have, neither would Markus.
“You find some kind of hot rod fighter you’re going to try and convince me to bring aboard?” Markus asked as they stepped into a turbolift. Bruce ordered it to a random section of station and it thrummed to life.
“No, but, since we’re under refit I’m sure I could come up with some choice additions to the Captain’s Yacht,” he grinned impishly. “Inverted manifolds for extra speed, a couple self-powered dampeners for maneuverability, hell even a racing stripe or three.”
Markus just looked coldly back at the man, the answer evident in his face.
Bruce just laughed, “Alright, alright. I’ll leave it be.”
The lift hummed a few moments longer and they just stood there silently, Bruce grinning thoughtfully while Markus drifted off into his detailed thoughts for the Engineer in charge of the refit. He had a few changes he wanted to make, he just needed to convince Doctor Oakheart to agree so they could ‘convince’ the station crew together.
Bruce was the first one out of the lift when it stopped and walked down the corridor. They were clearly on the outer edge of the main ‘mushroom’ of the station as the corridor up ahead curved gently in the distance, not more aggressively as it did on the stem decks. A few doors down from the lift, Bruce turned left and the stepped through into one of the recreational decks that lined the outside. A space meant for transiting crew that didn’t want to be too far from their ship. It wasn’t the locked down promenade in the center of the star dock where people generally just moved to and fro from without clearance into the station proper. This was a sort of ‘officers lounge’ where Starfleet personnel could congregate together but still quickly access their ship.
Markus looked around, expecting that Bruce was taking him to see a familiar face but instead took him to the viewport and stopped, turning to his Captain and waiting for him to join him. Markus looked at him. Bruce grinned widely and then pointed straight across the open space to the docking berth directly opposite them and opposite where the Ardeshir was berthed. From where Markus had been earlier, he’d have never been able to see this vessel. He turned, shaking his head in confusion as to what it was that Bruce was trying to show him and did a double take. His mouth opening slightly in surprise and awe.
Kensforth laughed and clapped his friend and Captain on the shoulder, “She came in last night, late,” he explained, joining him in looking at the ship. “It’s the USS Edison. The very last Daystrom-class in the Fleet,” he grinned.
Markus couldn’t’ believe it. A Daystrom-class, just like the one he’d commanded. His first command in Starfleet. She’d been a clunky old ship, nowhere near state of the art like the Ardeshir. She wasn’t fast, or maneuverable. She didn’t have powerful weapons or shields. She was a science ship at her core, and really only suitable for such. But she’d been his ship. It still hurt to think about how she’d been taken from him, under refit just like Ardeshir was now, attacked and obliterated in Sol orbit nearly killing Admiral Isfahani in the process. He’d have liked to have seen his old girl off better than that - maybe deep down that was why he’d refused to let this refit go down without his attention on every detail.
“Thought you’d like to see it,” Bruce said, now turning and gesturing into the room. On the far side was an elder man with curly white hair and an almost too long for regulations beard having a quiet conversation with the lounge’s steward behind a small bar. “That’s Captain Effermann, her skip. I bet… if you asked nice…” Bruce said, looking to Effermann and then smirking at Markus. “He’d give you a tour.”
Bruce waited until Markus’ gaze tracked over to Effermann and then back to him before grinning even wider and slapping him on the shoulder one more time before turning to leave. He waved over his shoulder from the door. “You’re welcome, skip!”
