Path: newsspool2.news.atl.earthlink.net!stamper.news.atl.earthlink.net!elnk-atl-nf1!newsfeed.earthlink.net!feed1.news.rcn.net!rcn!wn14feed!worldnet.att.net!attbi_s53.POSTED!53ab2750!not-for-mail From: Rain Mitchell Newsgroups: alt.startrek.creative Message-ID: <200409291740518226%rainmitchell@gmailcom> MIME-Version: 1.0 Content-Type: text/plain; charset=ISO-8859-1; format=flowed Content-Transfer-Encoding: 8bit Subject: [ORIG] - STIB - San Francisco #1 User-Agent: Unison/1.5.2 Lines: 130 NNTP-Posting-Host: 12.219.22.224 X-Complaints-To: abuse@mchsi.com X-Trace: attbi_s53 1096497650 12.219.22.224 (Wed, 29 Sep 2004 22:40:50 GMT) NNTP-Posting-Date: Wed, 29 Sep 2004 22:40:50 GMT Organization: MediaCom High Speed Internet Date: Wed, 29 Sep 2004 22:40:50 GMT Xref: news.earthlink.net alt.startrek.creative:160941 X-Received-Date: Wed, 29 Sep 2004 15:40:51 PDT (newsspool2.news.atl.earthlink.net) Set in TNGish San Francisco ============================= Jim listened to the rain striking the panes of glass overhead. It was a soothing sound, punctuated by the occasional pass of a shuttle, low over San Francisco Bay, on approach to Starfleet. They never stopped, not even on Christmas eve. Not that anyone really celebrated Christmas anymore. The Human condition had evolved beyond the need for it's myriad religions to explain its place in the Universe. That's what the commentators said anyway. He sighed, not knowing why the whole religion debate came back into his head at that moment. He carefully adjusted his position beneath T'Sel's sleeping form. She was probably the reason for the religious neurons firing in his head. He wondered if she were dreaming about Earth's religions. She'd come here as a researcher into xeno-religious matters. Now she was a case study. He tried to push the thoughts out of his mind and go back to sleep. The rain kept him awake though; at least that's what he told himself. Bleep. His communicator chimed at him quietly from across the room. He ignored it. He didn't want to go deal with anything tonight. He wasn't supposed to be on-call. Someone else could deal with whatever the catastrophe was tonight. He and his team had just come back from picking the microbial remains of a Runabout full of cadets off of the surface or Europa. It had been one of those stupid mistakes that you can't really explain to the families. Put eighteen year old humans at the helm of anything larger than a turbolift and occasionally something bad is going to happen. There's really no way to prepare for it, not way to guard against it. He'd had to scrape kids into bags before; it never got easier though. Bleep. "Your communicator is beeping." T'Sel said quietly. He felt her eyelashes flutter on his chest. She was so warm. He still hadn't gotten used to it in the six months they'd been together now. To be honest she was his first extra-species relationship. Well, unless you counted the eight years with Miranda the IceQueen, but she was more of a mutant human than a different species. She hadn't seemed like such a cast iron bitch when he'd asked her to marry him. Maybe that's what the command track did to people. "I'm ignoring it." He said. She hadn't moved, just rested. "When did it start raining?" She asked. "About eleven. There was a little thunder earlier. I'm surprised you didn't wake up." Bleep. "Well, I feel safe enough with you to let myself really sleep." She said, caressing his arm. He squeezed her gently. "You're not on-call are you?" She asked, a tinge of concern creeping into her voice. "It's probably just an all-call warning everyone that a jolly old man in a sleigh has penetrated the defense grid." He could feel her smile. "You really haven't heard the Santa Clause Story until you've heard it in the original Klingon." T'Sel said. It was a running gag with them now. Klingons didn't really claim every human advancement of their own. For example they didn't claim Gahndi was Klingon, but there were enough things that they did claim that made ample fodder for gags. Bleep. "They're going to make you work on Christmas Eve aren't they?" She asked. He understood that it was hard for her to understand the sense of duty he had, even if he talked it down, and rebelled against the authority that wasn't really tied to duty. "You don't know that. Maybe it's just Miranda and the kids calling, celebrating Christmas." He said. There wasn't much hope of that though. Jake had started calling William, Miranda's new husband, dad the last time he'd gotten to see the kids. He was a Captain attached to Admiral Reinhold's staff. Good for Miranda's career, she got to kiss ass with the brass at command. She'd get noticed and a command, and take the kids with her out into the galaxy. The truth was they were already gone. He admonished himself, not for the first time, that he hadn't gotten down to see them more. They only lived in San Jose. It wasn't like they were warping through the stars hundreds of light years away already. "Starfleet Command to Mr. Porter." The communicator called. Jim sighed. "Go ahead command." He said. He could feel T'Sel slump on top of him, as if if she made herself heavy he wouldn't be able to get up. "Sir, there is a situation that has arisen. Commander Talbert has requested that your team assemble and be ready to get under way in the next half an hour." "Alright command." He said, the communicator going dead. "I'm sorry," He said. "What if I just hold on to you. You can't go gallivanting with a naked Vulcan hanging onto you." "T'Sel, don't make this harder than it already is." He said, sitting up. "You're not on call!" She said. "Someone else can take this call. Why do they keep sending you out? I'll bet if you ever stopped ducking the psych exams they'd stick your skinny ass in a desk job." His feet found the cold hardwood floor. "You're right. Maybe they've got one of those scheduled for today. Ever think of that? Maybe Talbert's sending me out so he doesn't loose me." He said, reaching for his pants. "Fine. You go scrape what's left of some kid into a test-tube so they can send it to Dover and get an ID for the family. You don't need to bother coming back when you're done." He couldn't tell if she were bluffing or not. She'd been angry like this before, but he really didn't know her well enough yet to be sure if she was really kicking him out or just releasing frustrations. The few mind melds they'd had had been very shallow. "What do you want me to do? Not go?" He asked. "You know I can't do that." She placed her fingers on his face and in an instant she was there with him. She saw his doubts, the pain about the kids, his own uncertainty about her, and the wreckage that he'd just had to clean up. He knew that he'd have a place to come back to. His mind calmed at the warm embrace of her and her discipline. "You'll be late. Take the Mission St. Transporter." She said, and kissed him. NewMessage: