A Glass Raised to the Unknown

Posted on 16 Sep 2024 @ 8:52pm by Lieutenant Commander Dresden Cage

Mission: M4 - Falling Out
Location: Dockside Table Restaurant, San Francisco
Timeline: 1130am-1:00pm, 5 Days Prior to Arriving at Obsidian Command
1229 words - 2.5 OF Standard Post Measure

Two days had passed since Dresden received the news of his transfer and promotion. He had remained home the entire time, resting and recovering from the ordeal. The looming uncertainty of his new assignment at Obsidian Command, combined with the unresolved mystery of Commander Lake, kept him on edge. But life had to go on. He hadn’t heard anything more from Starfleet Intelligence, but he was sure he would hear from them soon enough.

It was 11:37 hours, and he found himself at a small, cozy restaurant tucked away in one of San Francisco’s quieter neighborhoods. It was a place he and Marine Captain Burns had frequented whenever they had the rare opportunity to unwind after a mission.

Dresden sat at a corner table, nursing a glass of whiskey as he waited for Burns to arrive. Whiskey in the morning? Might as well be mouthwash. The soft murmur of conversations and the clinking of glasses during breakfast around him faded into the background as he replayed the events of the mission in his mind. It was a familiar place his thoughts often wandered to after difficult missions. The strange symbols, the device, the floating platforms, and most of all, Lake’s disappearance—it all haunted him.

The door to the restaurant opened, and Burns walked in. He scanned the room until he spotted Dresden. With a nod of recognition, he made his way over, his presence as commanding as ever, though there was a certain weariness in his eyes that mirrored Dresden’s own.

“Cage,” Burns greeted him as he slid into the seat opposite. “You look like hell.”

Dresden chuckled, though there was little humor in it. “So do you, old man.”

“Old man?” Burns replied, “Hey, I’m not the only one drinking whiskey. Looks like all you need is a newspaper, a shotgun, and a rocking chair in front of an old cabin.”

Dresden chuckled. “Fair enough.”

He signaled to the waiter. When the waiter arrived, Burns ordered a drink before turning his attention back to Dresden. “So, they’re shipping you off to Obsidian Command, huh?”

Dresden nodded, taking a sip of his whiskey. “Yeah. Chief of Security.”

“They’re not wrong,” Burns replied, leaning back in his chair. “But Obsidian Command… that’s a whole different ballgame. You ready for that?”

“I think so,” Dresden said. “But it’s going to be intense.”

“Intense might be an understatement,” Burns agreed, his tone serious. “But you’ve got the chops for it. If anyone can handle it, it’s you.”

They fell into a comfortable silence for a moment, each man lost in his thoughts. The waiter brought Burns’s drink, and he took a long sip, savoring the burn of the alcohol before speaking again.

“I’ve been thinking about what happened back there,” Burns said, his voice lower now, more introspective. “Lake, the device… I can’t shake the feeling that we’re dealing with something way out of our league. And I don’t mean just Starfleet, I mean… all of us.”

Dresden nodded slowly. “You’re not wrong. The more I think about it, the more I realize how unprepared we were for that kind of technology. If it really was a time machine… the implications are terrifying.”

“And now she’s out there, doing God knows what,” Burns added, his jaw tightening. “The higher-ups are probably losing their minds over it, and we’re just sitting here, drinking like it’s any other day.”

“There’s not much else we can do right now,” Dresden said with a sigh. “I’ve given everything I have to Starfleet Intelligence. They’re the ones who have to figure out what comes next. Meanwhile, I’ve got a new post to worry about.”

Burns studied Dresden for a moment, a thoughtful expression on his face. “You know, Cage, I’ve always respected you. You’re one of the best officers I’ve ever had the privilege of working with. But I’m going to be honest with you—Obsidian Command, this is the station for you. There’s no one I’d like better to be there.”

Dresden met Burns’s gaze, seeing the sincerity in his eyes. “I appreciate that, Burns. Really. I know what I’m getting into… or at least, I think I do. But whatever happens, I’ll face it head-on. Just like we always have. And I won’t let you down.”

Burns nodded, satisfied with the answer. “Good. Because I have a feeling our paths will cross again, and when they do, it won’t be under easy circumstances.”

“You’re probably right,” Dresden said, a faint smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “But that’s the life we chose, isn’t it?”

Burns raised his glass in a silent toast, and Dresden did the same. They clinked their glasses together, the sound resonating between them like an unspoken promise to face whatever came next with the same resolve that had carried them through every mission before.

They talked for a while longer, reminiscing about past missions, sharing stories of the good, the bad, and the downright absurd. It was a rare moment of camaraderie, a brief escape from the weight of their responsibilities. But eventually, the conversation circled back to the future.

“So, what’s next for you?” Dresden asked as they finished their drinks.

Burns shrugged. “HQ has me on standby for now. I’m sure they’ll find some way to keep me busy. There’s always another mission, another threat. But I’ll keep an eye on you, Cage. Don’t think for a second that just because you’re halfway across the galaxy, I won’t know what’s going on. I’ve got eyes everywhere.”

Dresden chuckled. “I wouldn’t expect anything less. And I’ll keep in touch. After all, I’ll need someone to vent to when things go sideways.”

“You’d better,” Burns replied, his tone light but his words carrying an undercurrent of seriousness. “And Cage… watch your back out there. Obsidian Command isn’t just about dealing with external threats. Sometimes the biggest dangers come from within.”

“I’ll remember that,” Dresden said, his expression sobering. “You take care of yourself too, Burns. Don’t go getting yourself killed before I get back.”

Burns smirked. “I’ll do my best.”

They stood up, settling their bill before heading toward the door. They stepped outside. It was about 13:00 hours. All sunny and no clouds.

“Well, I guess this is it,” Burns said, extending a hand to Dresden.

“For now,” Dresden replied, shaking his hand firmly. “But we’ll see each other again. I’m sure of it.”

They parted ways, each man walked in a different direction but knew their paths would inevitably cross again.

As Dresden began to walk to the crosswalk, and thought where he should go next, he could feel the city buzzing around him with the usual hum of life.

But, for a brief moment, Dresden felt a strange sensation crawl up his spine. He paused mid-step, his instincts kicking in—someone was watching him. He scanned the street, his eyes darting to the passersby, the nearby alleyways, and the rooftops.

Nothing.

The sensation didn’t leave him. It clung to him, like a shadow. Somewhere, someone was watching him.