Ports in the Storm (Part V of VI)

Posted on Tue Oct 30, 2018 @ 3:05am by Captain Maritza Soran & Civilian 'Arrival' Geral Lasuma

981 words; about a 5 minute read

Mission: Victory Conditions
Location: Lasuma's Ship
Timeline: MD 11 1800

Previously on

Returning the bottle to its place he continued, with his story, "I asked him how he did it. He told me that, '...sometimes ya just gotta say fuck it'.

She gave a small huff of scandalized disbelief, "Easy to say when you're not in charge of anything."

That almost made him spray his drink and he quickly pulled up his napkin as he coughed. "My dear...I have employees across Federation and non-Federation worlds doing a wide assortment of duties, a fleet of vessels transporting everything for passengers to freight. The only real differences between us it that you wear a uniform and all your responsibilities are focused in one location."

And Now the Continuation...

She put her cutlery down, slightly pink, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean you. I meant your friend. I didn't mean to imply that you weren't..."

"My friend?"

"On Deep Space Nine," she prompted.

Now he felt like a shmuck; she had meant the officer that he had mentioned. Shifting from his wine glass to his water glass, “Please forgive my rant. I should have realized you were referring to the officer in my story, although he was a captain at the time."

Maritza was even more surprised. "How can anyone who gets to that rank be that cavalier? You said at the time? I assume he has since lost his rank?" With an attitude like that, no wonder.

A wry knowing grin spread over his face. "Actually, last we spoke he was a commodore and was on the list for his first star. That was...almost 6 months ago. Which means I will probably be seeing him soon. He likes a particular type of cigar and I happened to get my hands on the only remaining leaf stock."

The young trill looked scandalized. "Well it obviously worked for him." She took another mouthful, chewed, swallowed, and then gave him an arch look. "So you’re holding his habit hostage. What could you possibly hope to gain?"

He shook his head. "I'm shocked you would think I would do such a thing. It just so happens that the two were completely circumstantial. The growing and curing of the tobacco doesn't take that long, so he can get new cigars at almost any time, he just prefers them aged at least six to 8 months before taking possession. And I always place the highest priority on my customer’s wishes."

"I'll remember that for the future." She took a sip of water. "Should I ever manage to buy something from you."

"You could always open a line of credit." He quipped.

Maritza looked around at the blissful idyll, the gentle rustle of the leaves, the songs of the birds, and the food and drink, and realized she was feeling a bit more relaxed than she had a few hours ago. "I think I'm already in your debt."

He shook his. "No no. There is no debt when something is a gift..." having noted her glance to the scene around them, "...would you care to take walk?"

She should get back to work. She's already been here longer than she meant to.

But it was also peaceful, and free of Cardassians, terrorists and useless security; "Maybe for a little?"

Rising he placed his napkin on the table and came around to her side; offering her his hand.

It was an old-fashioned gesture, and it charmed her. She took his hand and let him draw her up and to his side. When was the last time she'd taken a walk anywhere that wasn't simply going from point A to point B. After leaving the D'ama? That must have been a year ago. And when was the last time she'd even touched a person when she wasn't trying to save a life, or having her own recued. If she didn't count medical treatment it must have been...

It was on the D'ama. When that petaq HoS'a had punched her. And then she'd glassed him, and then he'd.. well she'd woken up in sick bay with two cracked ribs, a shattered knee and a broken nose. She winced, remembering. If that was the last time, what did it say about her?

"Lead the way," she gestured to the woodlands around them.

Wrapping her arm around his the pair set off down a faint trail in the forest. Sunlight was still beaming through the trees as it began to set turning the blue of the sky to orange and golds as theair was beginning to cool. "When was the last time you were in these woods...for real?"

Good question. Not after the D'ama. She hadn't felt like going home, couldn't go home as an abject failure. So it was probably after she'd publicly denounced symbiosis and all its works. "Seven years. Maybe eight. When did you last go home?"

While that seemed to be a lo g time he knew Starfleet could keep its officers hopping. Of course if it was because to duty it was probably personal. If the later there was no need to pry at this point. "Oh I left Bajor to come here, though I had been travelling a bit before hand."

Stepping over a deadfall he turned to help her over if she needed it. She took his hands, but whether it was exhaustion, or the alcohol affecting her, she still managed to end up with the toe of her boot caught in a snarl of the bark, couldn't right herself in time, and instead of climbing neatly over the fallen log, she fell. Her momentum threw her forward and she collapsed against his chest with a cry of surprise.

To Be Continued...

Commander Maritza Soran
Commanding Officer
Deep Space Five

Geral Lasuma
Owner Lasuma Enterprises

Sha'rae Astare
NPC - Valet for Geral Lasuma

 

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