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Star Trek: On the Border (Captain_bond and Rheya)

captain_bond

Fuck Donald Trump
Joined
Dec 30, 2020
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Captain Marshall Langdon sighed and looked at the viewscreen, the quiet chatter of the Bridge crew and the hum of the warp engines the only sound that could be heard. The ship was the latest Defiant-class vessel, christened the USS Maryland not two weeks ago. The remnants of the old Romulan Star Empire that sought refuge with the Federation were able to give their cloaking technology to Starfleet, resulting in many new ships being pre-installed with the impressive devices, and old ones were retrofitted as they were able to be. At a station to his right was his First Officer, Commander Nog, also known as the first Ferengi to join Starfleet. "You have the bridge, Mr. Nog," the Captain said and retired to his quarters, where he switched on his computer terminal and began a log entry.

"Captain's Log, April 5th, 2427, or Stardate 101724.5. Inaugural entry for USS Maryland and Outpost Alpha-Two-Seven. Captain Marshall Langdon reporting. All is well, and on this First Contact Day, I am the Captain of a warship headed to an outpost along the border of a former enemy who might still be. The ironies of life never escape me. Personal note: I may petition Starfleet to rename the outpost. Will consider opening it up to the crew to vote once we're settled in. End log."

Then he sat back in his chair and put on some music, and waited for the ship to either arrive or run into some kind of trouble.
 
Light years away, the sound of a ball ricocheting off the wall filled the room as two women shoved into each other seeking dominance for the ball. With their gloved hands, they swatted at the ball sending it towards the oval zone. The popular Bajoran sport, Springball, was much like Earth's racquetball except it allowed for body contact and had one gloved hand that acted as a racket.

"I give it three weeks before the captain is begging to be reassigned." The human remarked as she lunged forward sending the ball directly towards the foul zone.

"Three? I give two. Food replicators are still offline." The Bajoran replied as she caught the ball with her ungloved hand.

"Ensign Tazesh." Chief Engineer O'Reily's voice came over the comm eliciting an eyeroll from the Bajoran woman.

"Yes, sir." The woman responded casually as she served the ball towards the wall starting the game back up.

"How are those the docking port repairs coming along?" A trick question from Chief Engineer, no doubt.

"Uh... they're coming along." Ensign Tazesh responded while her friend tried to hold back a chuckle.

"Ensign, the docking ports are on opposite side of the station from the holosuites. We need them operational before the USS Maryland arrives." The gruff voice responded less than amused.

"Yes, sir." The ensign signed while unfastening the strap of her helmet. "Computer, end program" The Springball court reverted back to a empty grey hull. "I'll catch you later." Waving goodbye, the brunette began heading towards her quarters to change into her uniform.

Outpost Alpha-Two-Seven was Ensign Tazesh Yori's second assignment after gradating from the Starfleet Academy. The Federation had a reacquired interest in the outpost due to its position along the border of the Breen Confederacy and she had been sent there to help with the repairs and the retrofit. At first, she had been elated to be deployed to a station, but soon after arrival, had begun to question whether Command was punishing her after that incident on the USS Dakota. While top of her class, the Bajoran had developed a reputation for bending the rules and focusing on her extracurricular activities rather than her duty. It was anyone's guess how she had still made grades while seemingly placing more priority on her social life than study.
 
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In the middle of one of his songs, the comm interrupted Marshall's wistful thoughts, that were a thousand light-years away. "Bridge to Captain Langdon, we're approaching the outpost," came Nog's voice over the speakers. "Take us out of warp, I'm on my way. Langdon out." He got up from his chair and stretched luxuriantly, perhaps the last chance he'd get to do so for a while. The doors to his quarters opened with a soft hiss, and he walked through the ship, up a couple decks in the turbolift and arrived on the Bridge. "Sir, Ops reports the docking ports are still undergoing repairs," said Langdon's Tactical Officer, an Andorian named Tal'Shek Shran, a direct descendant of the same Thy'Lek Shran that helped broker the first alliance between Humans, Vulcans, Andorians and Tellarites.

Langdon sighed. "Looks like O'Riley's doing too much delegating again. What's his location?" Lieutenant Shran typed some commands into his console. "The arboretum, sir," he said, unable to keep the amusement out of his voice. "The arboretum. Interesting choice. All right, well who has Ops? Let's find out. Hail them." The familiar, melodic sound of a hailing frequency opening filled the Bridge, and the outpost's Chief Science Officer, a Cardassian Lieutenant Commander named Taal Prin, answered, his face filling the viewscreen with a jovial smile. "Hello, Captain Langdon. Sorry about the mess, but apparently our esteemed Chief Engineer--" Langdon held up a hand. "I know, we already found him on sensors. I'll beam aboard and get things straightened out." Prin smiled. "Sounds good, Sir. Ops out." The viewscreen returned to its view of the station. "Nog, you're with me. Shran, you have the Maryland until we dock." The two men acknowledged their orders and the Ferengi followed Langdon to the transporter bay, and they materialized in the station's Operations Control, and Langdon handed Prin a PADD. "By order of Starfleet, command of this station is hereby transferred to me, Captain Marshall Langdon, effective immediately." The Cardassian nodded. "I stand relieved, Sir." Langdon shook the man's hand and without further ado he went off to the Arboretum to tear O'Riley a new one.
 
Opening the docking bay's system access panel using an EJ7 Inerlock, the ensign found the control panel, the display now entirely off and the circuits in disarray. It was somehow, if that was even possible, in worse shape than she had left it not even nine hours ago. While she was admittedly new to engineering, this didn't look like a typical system malfunction. Out of habit, she began running the possible scenarios. Had someone sabotaged the system to keep the Maryland and critical supply shipments out? It seemed the most likely of the scenarios until she realized the pattern in which it had been cut. "You've got to be kidding me!" She let out a noise that could only be described as pure frustration. Someone had clearly tried to open the control panel with a plasma torch and seared the controls.

"Tazesh to Chief Engineer O'Reily." The ensign tapped at her comm.

"Ensign, this interruption better be to tell me the docking ports are operational." A displeased voice came over the comm.

"Someone seared the controls. Who did you have working on the system last?" Her question was initially met with silence.

"Ensign, just get the docking ports operational." After a few awkward moments, the Chief Engineer responded then the comm went silent.

The ensign gave it an honest try, removing the outer housing until the all the circuits were visible. Turning her head to look at her measly toolkit, she made a face before packing up. No wonder someone had tried to cut open the controls with a plasma torch, the maintenance engineers were ill-equipped to handle an overhaul of this magnitude of the neglected outpost. Each toolkit was just a mishmash of random equipment they had been able to find around the station, no kit alike. The fiery Bajoran had had enough.

She began heading towards the arboretum, knowing she would find the Chief Engineer in there, the soft melody of the birds in the background revealing his location. While outpost didn't have actual birds in the arboretum, the ambient sound had been added to give the space a more authentic feel for those wishing to escape the emptiness of space and the monotonous hum of the station.

Lost in thought and fired up, the outspoken Bajoran woman ready to give the Chief Engineer a piece of her mind, she marched down the corridor, toolkit in hand. She wasted no time, rounding the corner, and bumped into a tall figure dropping her toolkit. The kit opened, the mishmash of engineering tools littering the hall. Not even bothering to look up, she let out a frustrated groan and began collecting the misfit tools while shooting glares at the only bit of the figure she could see in a crouched position, shiny black shoes.
 
Captain Langdon gave a start when the Ensign bumped into him and dropped her toolkit. "Careful, now. You don't wanna hurt yourself," he said in a calm, kind voice, helping her clean her tools up. "These look older than my grandfather," he remarked sourly and stood up, placing the outdated tools on a side shelf and tapping his combadge. "Langdon to Maryland," he said. "Shran here." His Tactical Officer answered immediately. "Beam the first wave of engineering supplies directly to Cargo Bay One, and pull a toolkit and drop it two meters to my left. Is there anything else you need, Ensign?" He'd been listening in to the comm, so he knew that someone had seared the controls to the docking port. "We also brought along a few of those prototype engineering drones, if you prefer not to bang your head against the bulkhead. They can scan a system, determine what it needs, use a miniature relay to a transporter system to beam away debris and other stuff that's in the way, then replicate new parts and install them according to Starfleet spec, often in a fraction of the time of a flesh-and-blood crew. The Chief O'Briens and Commander LaForges that are on every ship and station worth their salt can jerry-rig things afterwards." He finished his statement with an amused smile as the soft whoosh of an active transport heralded the arrival of a brand-new toolkit. "Of course, some things still require good old fashioned elbow grease, and people to provide it, but the drones should make life easier for the engineering staff."
 
Already flustered by the misstep, the fiery ensign might have torn into man if not for his calm, amiable demeanor, catching her off-guard. Yori tilted her head, finally looking up at the figure as he bent down to help gather the outdated tools. "And these are the best we could find." She responded to his statement that judging by the age of the tools, wasn't even an exaggeration. It wasn't until he hailed the Maryland that the typically sharp Tazesh registered who the figure was, Outpost Alpha-Two-Seven's new Captain. "Hasperat," she quipped before thinking better of it, old habits die hard. While she was certainly being a smart ass, it wasn't entirely untrue; what she wouldn't give for some Bajoran food or really any food that didn't come from a ration pack. "Uh," she tried to amend her statement but was drawing a blank. For weeks, the engineering crew had been begging for tools from this century and here Langdon was delivering them right to her doorstep. What a time to forget one's laundry list. "Yeah, an engineering drone would be great, sir. I'll need to replicate a new display and circuits anyway; the unit is completely destroyed. Our replicators are still down... all of them, that includes food." Thankful that he had offered up something before the corridor filled with awkward silence.

"Thank you, Captain."
She turned around, and began slowly heading towards the docking bay, the fire in her step all but extinguished, O'Reily all but forgotten. Instead, it had been replaced by confusion. Never could she have anticipated receiving a new toolkit or prototype engineering drones, for that matter. Adding another layer to that confusion was Captain Langdon. He was also nothing like she had imagined based off the gossip in the lower decks. She had expected some old bland-looking, drone-sounding man based off his reputation of being strait-laced.
 
"Ensign Tazesh!", Langdon called after the Bajoran before she could get out of sight or earshot. Once she approached him again, he smiled. "I heard about what happened before, aboard the Dakota. You've been punished long enough. I have an engineering crew about to beam in and fix that docking port. Changing my mind is a Captain's prerogative, after all. As of now, you're reassigned to the post you've always been good at. Security. As such, I need you to help me arrest someone for dereliction of duty. Please set down the toolkit and follow me." His smile widened as he wheeled around and marched into the Arboretum, heading to where the soon-to-be former Chief Engineer was lying in a patch of grass, snoring softly, a bucket of chicken wings scattered about next to him. "What the? Musta had his own stasis unit." Langdon looked down at the short, slightly overweight human male, with sauce dripping down the front of his uniform. "Lieutenant O'Reily! Wake up!" The man awoke with a start, and snapped to attention...and promptly farted. Loudly. "Mister O'Reily, your record explains what I am about to do, because if I had to explain, I would not be able to avoid using much more colorful language. We are preparing for a possible Breen incursion, and you're lying in the grass doing NOTHING! You are under arrest for dereliction of duty. Security Officer Tazesh will escort you to your quarters, where you will remain until the Lakota arrives with more supplies, at which point you will be taken to Starbase 12 for court-martial. Miss Tazesh, make sure that he has enough ration packs, and feel free to confiscate whatever's in his fridge. Understood, Ensign?" He made sure to emphasize her new assignment to the fat, lazy man before him, who perhaps would not have minded if she worked herself to death scrubbing plasma conduits. Not if Langdon had anything to say about it. "When you're done, report to my Tactical Officer, Lieutenant Shran. He'll be in Ops by the time you're through."
 
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The woman spun around on her heels, and when nothing more came, she approached him, bright blue eyes curiously searching for explanation for why he would have beckoned her back after supplying her with the necessary tools for repairs. "Yes, sir?" She peered intently at the man. The woman had prided herself on anticipating the responses of others, but his wasn't one she could have ever imagined. His response came like an unseen force nearly knocked the wind out of her and leaving her speechless. The Dakota. The incident. And her reinstatement into Security. But why, how? If the Bajoran looked confused before, then she looked utterly baffled now. There was only one explanation, the Captain must have reviewed the crew's files before arrival. She could barely hide her confusion, knitting her brows and opening her mouth to speak, but no words came out. Finally, she managed a single word. "Uh-" There was an awkward pause. "Yes, Captain." This had to be some sort of prank, right? ....Right? Tazeth bent down slowly, resting the toolkit in the middle of the corridor, half-expecting the Captain Langdon to tell her this was some sort of joke on the lowest ranked officers when taking over a post.

While still baffled and half-certain this was a joke, she did as was ordered, following the Captain to the Arboretum. It was no secret where they were heading. The Chief Engineer had become a joke onboard, synonymous with the words lazy, incompetent, and useless. Still, what could you do when he was a senior officer?

With a shwoosh, the doors opened to the Arboretum greeting them with a simulated breeze and floral scents. The botanic garden, nearly dead when the first wave of crew arrived, had been quickly revitalized by one of the science officers who had also studied botany at the Academy. The tranquil garden featured a pathway with patches of grass on either side, a small Koi pond towards its center, and large trees and blooming flowers around the perimeters. With most of the crew on duty and working long shifts, it was easy to spot the only person lounging in the garden. While the bucket of chicken wings was new, finding the Chief Engineer snoring away on a patch of grass wasn't. The engineering crew often tried to make some humor of their situation, blaring an alarm blamed as a system malfunction to scare the man awake. The sudden fright on his face was much like it was now.

Ensign Tazesh was still expecting to be told this was some sort of joke, but the genuine look of confusion and panic on former Chief Engineer face as the Captain gave her orders told her it was not. Yori found herself catching second-hand embarrassment from the man.

"Yes, Captain Langdon. Come with me, O'Reily." The woman ignored his pleas, comments, and confusion. Fortunately, he didn't bother to resist or make too much of a scene. Once they were out of earshot of the Captain, he asked her what was going on, who this Captain Langdon thought he was. The reinstated Security Officer remained silent. If she was to be honest, she was as confused as he by the sudden turn of events. Sure, everyone knew the Chief Engineer was useless, delegating rather than aiding or even providing guidance with repairs, but no one expected anything to be done about it. Once the two reached his quarters, Tazesh wasted no time, checking on his supply of ration packs, requesting some extras from Ops, then confiscating several deserts and bottles of scotch the man had replicated or smuggled onboard. While the fiery woman was normally one to gloat, she remained silent, not wanting to answer any questions from the now-detained man.

In and out, she dropped off the goods for evidence before heading to Ops to meet with Tactical Officer, Lt Shran. The confusion had mostly worn off, replaced with a bit of a pep in her step as she slipped back into the role she had worked so hard for. "Lieutenant Shran, Ensign Tazesh Yori reporting."
 
"Ah, yes, the Captain spoke very highly of you on the journey here. You're assigned to Alpha Team, and you'll be reporting to me. Please grab a phaser from the case by the wall and join me. We may have pests or other problems the internal sensors can't pick up." The Andorian gestured towards a gunmetal gray weapons case against the bulkhead, which would unlock automatically as she approached. Lt. Shran already had his weapon on his hip, and was waiting patiently for her to get her things. "Don't be alarmed. I know you're probably wondering what's going on. I imagine he told you to go do some task before he turned around and changed his mind. That was his way of judging certain aspects of your character, although don't ask me what aspects he means. He'd never tell you, and he's never told me. Regardless, you shined in your role as a Security Officer. His words. He also said that we need everyone doing what they do best in times like these, and in your case, that's carrying a phaser, not a hyperspanner. But, enough about that. Time to head out on vole patrol." Shran cocked a half-smile and his antennae twitched in a mischievous way as well.

Meanwhile, Captain Langdon was busy writing a handwritten letter to Ensign Tazesh.

Dear Miss Tazesh,

I understand you may have been taken aback by our encounter outside the Arboretum. Allow me to perhaps shed some light on the situation. I typically seek out tough assignments, where either the personnel or the ship or station itself has the potential to be great, but has been hobbled by forces outside their control. In this case, it's both. As such, I have developed a keen sense of who deserves a second chance, and who does not. Within minutes, I met one crewmember in each category earlier today. Sometimes I put the former through a small test, assigning them some task that their current, often punitive assignment would entail, before 'changing my mind' and assigning them a task at which they once excelled before they got in trouble. The easier they slip back into their old role, the better it makes me feel about my decision.

I hope that you continue to be the woman you were meant to be, and that my faith in you will not be in vain.


He wrote his closing in Bajoran.

Walk with the Prophets.

Captain Marshall Langdon


He made his way to her quarters, with the letter folded in half, entered, left it on her desk, and departed.
 
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"Really?" The woman knitted her brows. They had only just met, and what a confusing, awkward meeting that was. She went to the weapon's case as instructed, pulling out a phaser and fastened it to her hip. It felt good to have one holstered to her side again. It had felt like years, but in reality, only been months since the ensign had been allowed to carry one, involuntarily trading her phaser for a hyperspanner.

"Think there's an infestation? They breed like tribbles." Fixing the docking ports wasn't sounding so bad now. While the creatures were small, catching one of their hideous faces looking down at you from a security hatch was nightmare fuel. So close to Cardassian space, it wasn't uncommon for Bajorians to deal with at least one infestation in their lifetime.

Ugh. Vole duty. It certainly wasn't glamorous work crawling through the Jefferies tubes chasing after the pests. In this particular case, Ensign Tazesh had no interest in being an overachiever, catching one or two would have been enough for the woman, but as fate would have it, she unexpectedly stumbled upon a nest the pests had built near the fusion reactor. The viscous little creatures, probably at the height of their mating season, lunged at her giving her good reason to put her put her reinstated phaser privileges to use.

After clearing the nest and what she could stun of those who went running, she hoped this would be the last of vole duty for long while. In fact, if she never saw another vole again, she would die a happy woman. Yori retired to her quarters in desperate need of a shower, but before she could she change, she spotted the folded letter on her desk. The bajoran's eyes narrowed and the creases on her nose scrunched. Eyes scanning the area, she cautiously walked over to her desk, as if she expected someone to jump out from behind it, and unfolded the letter. Handwritten, how strange. So, it was a test after all. And the closing. He must have noticed her earring.

There was a sense of vulnerability with a superior knowing so much about her. She hadn't even told her closest friends on the Outpost the full story, instead trying to shed some humor on the matter fudging some details. Slipping into the shower, she let the warmth of the sonic shower wash away images of vole nipping at her ankles.

With a few hours to go before she needed to retire for the night, Yori went down to the Commons hopinh that with the Maryland and their fancy engineering droids here, food replicators were now online.
 
It just so happened that the engineering crews were still working on the replicators, but some portable units were set up in the meantime. Chief of Operations Kirayoshi O'Brien was directing the repairs and participating in tasks himself that would have sent the previous Chief Engineer running for the airlock. The Captain was seated at a table with Lieutenant Shran, and they both looked at Tazesh when she walked in, as if they'd not mind if she sat with them.

Yoshi, as his friends called him, was chatting animatedly with non-engineering staff as he worked who seemed amazed that a Defiant-class ship had so much cargo capacity. He'd give them a knowing smile and explain that there was a new storage technology that was based on transporters, that essentially held matter in a pattern buffer until needed--but unlike traditional transporters, this machine was designed to hold the items in the buffer without signal degradation. "Still," he'd joke, "you'd have to put a phaser to Molly's head to get her near one of the things!"
 
Tazesh's blue eyes met theirs as she walked in. She smiled, uncertain as to whether it was a good idea to sit with the senior officers, her sarcasm and forwardness not always sitting well with leadership. The ensign had been lucky today and didn't want to press that luck. Her eyes quickly shifted to the replicators and the crowd forming around the engineer.

Portable units were a godsend for a crew that had been surviving on rations for weeks. It seemed others had heard the good news and made their way to the Commons, a queue now forming all the way to the door. Yori found her place in line and began scanning the room for her friends. Having started a different shift and now with the transfer to Security, none of the familiar faces were in sight. It seemed the Bajoran would be needing to find herself a new crowd of ensigns to dine with.

After grabbing a plate of what looked to be some sort of spicy rolled sandwich, she began looking for an open seat. Once again, her eyes met the Captain and Lieutenant Shan's. With the seats in the Commons quickly filling and not one, but now instances of eye contact with the men, the ensign made her way over to where the senior officers were seated. "Captain, Lieutenant, I-" think, think, think. "I think I managed to catch the last of that nest." Work, real smooth. She sat down her tray and slid into the booth.
 
As if following some unspoken command, Shran gets up and leaves the two of them by themselves. "Good job, Ensign. Internal sensors will be back up to full capacity by midday tomorrow, so hopefully if another one gets on board somehow, we'll know. I'd like to talk to you about something." Captain Langdon didn't give her much of a chance to respond, as this was an assignment, not a request. "Starfleet has learned a lot from the Dominion War, including how fragile peace can really be. But, more specifically to what I'm about to say, is that not every Captain is as lucky or skilled as Ben Sisko in avoiding death in combat on the ground, where all they can rely upon is their phaser and their crew. So given the new Breen threat, they've begun authorizing Captains to assign personal bodyguards from amongst the security staff, and first officers too. Because quite frankly, we lost way too many command staff on ground battles to the Jem'Hadar. So, Ensign Tazesh, I will be assigning three bodyguards, in three shifts. You will be on Alpha shift, from 0600 to 1400. And you won't be just following me around with a phaser on your hip. You'll be my go-between with Lieutenant Shran, you'll eat meals with me, and hopefully, and this part isn't an order of course, you'll be my friend. Do you accept this assignment?"
 
Tazesh's eyes followed Shran as he unexpectedly stood and left the two. Her eyes didn't leave the lieutenant until Langdon began to speak, the ensign turning around to face the most senior officer once more. Eyes filled with confusion, they silently asked why Shran had left the two alone. What could he possibly want to talk to her about that was private? He already knew more about her than her parents or closest friends to his access to her files. Her mouth opened to respond, but he had already launched into her assignment before a word could come out. Since the Maryland's arrival, today had been full of surprises. This would take the cake.

"I do, Captain." She answered without hesitation, but there was a pause after, as if there was more she wished to say. "I have to ask, are you expecting to leave the Outpost?" The mention of ground combat hadn't gone unnoticed by the ensign.

She looked down at the table, eyes shifting back and forth as if searching for answers. Some were deeper than others and would take time to answer. Friends? He was a senior officer and she was a lower deck ensign. The Bajoran shook her head attempting to pull herself from thought and focus on the surface level questions. "Who else is assigned to you?"
 
"Well, there's always the possibility of away missions, but even so, they could board the station." Langdon leaned back in his seat and studied the young Ensign casually. Well, she wasn't all that younger than he, actually. "And you're the first I've asked, but if there are any recommendations you can make, I'd be happy to hear them. And one other thing." He pulled a small wooden box from some pocket in his uniform and slid it across the table. "You were only an Ensign for so long because of, well, that thing we won't talk about anymore. From now on, we're moving forward. If anyone brings that up, send them to me or Commander Nog. You are no longer subject to the stigma of your past on my outpost...Lieutenant." Inside the box was a single black rectangular pip for her uniform. "Congratulations."
 
Would the Breen be so bold to attack the Outpost? The ensign wouldn't put it past them. They were not to be underestimated; after all, this is the same Confederacy that attacked San Francisco during the Dominion War.

Eyes widening, she was visibly surprised when he disclosed that she was the first he had asked. Surely, there had to be others on the station more qualified and without major blemishes on their record. Admittedly, when he asked for recommendations, she struggled to come up with even one. Her head was spinning from the wild day she was having, and it was becoming harder and harder to process by the minute. "No one I can think of right now. I've mostly been relegated to Engineering since my transfer." She finally managed before he slid the small wooden box across the table. What? The woman knew what it was and what it meant before Langdon said a word, but it felt so damn unbelievable. A promotion? This had to be a dream.

"Understood, Captain." Yori looked down at the box. "Thank you." Eyes meeting his once more, she smiled as reality had begun to sink in, though the possibility that this could be a very elaborate dream still lingered in the back of her mind. The shiny black pip reflected in her blue eyes as she lifted it up to inspect it before fastening it to her collar beside her silver pip denoting that she was now Lieutenant Junior Grade.

Tazesh still hadn't so much as touched her food since sitting down. Suddenly, working replicators were no longer the only thing she had to look forward to.
 
"You're welcome. Your first shift starts tomorrow at 0600 sharp. I often cook breakfast for myself beforehand, if there's time. Do you like sausages, eggs, bacon? Or is there a Bajoran specialty I should look up?" As he remembered another Station Commander who liked to cook, Langdon smiled. "Oh, and how is the Emissary? Enjoying his retirement after coming back from the Celestial Temple, I hope?" Captain Sisko's return was a momentous event both in the Federation and on Bajor, and Langdon admired the man greatly.
 
The lieutenants eyes widened at her shift start time but she remained quiet. Even if there was really no significance in morning or evening when in space, she wasn't a morning person, often opted for the later shifts. Wide eyes then narrowed as the man explained that he cooked breakfast himself despite replicators soon being operational. "Uh- I like all of them. I normally just have Pooncheenee for breakfast... when the replicators are online. Back on Bajor, my mother used to make groatcakes."

"The Emissary isn't very good at retirement, I suppose. Last I heard, he had returned to duty and accepted a multi-year exploration assignment in the Gamma Quadrant."
Tazesh smiled, finally comfortable enough to pick up her fork and begin eating, though she had lost interest in her food. Most of the meal consisted with her pushing her food back and forth on the plate as her mind wandered to today's events. Once dismissed, she nearly ran to her quarters to begin properly processing all that had happened.

=/\=​
Stardate 101779.59

The normally 0600 sharp lieutenant arrived unusually early owing to an alarm malfunction that had awoken her far too early for her liking. Only a few blares from the alarm was all it took to shake Yori from her pleasant dreams. Ready and with not much to do, she entered the Captain's quarters.

It had been a few weeks since the events that had led to her long-overdue promotion had occurred. The first week had been awkward in part due to the lieutenant still not being comfortable around the senior officer. After what had happened on the USS Dakota, Tazesh had grown distrustful of senior officers, officials, and their intentions. After a week of bodyguard duty, she had finally let her guard down and relaxed around the man behaving more like herself.

"Captain Langdon?" she announced herself as she entered, the man not at his usual post in the kitchen.
 
Instead of his 'usual post in the kitchen,' Captain Langdon was in the shower. Mind you, this wasn't your run-of-the-mill sonic shower, but the kind with water, where you washed yourself with soap. He'd always loved that feeling, it made him feel cleaner than a sonic shower. But he wasn't really washing himself at the moment. His muscular back was pressed against the wall, and he was stroking his big, hard cock, oblivious to anyone having entered his quarters. He was mumbling something between moans, and occasionally some of the words almost sounded like, 'Yori'...
 
Hearing the shower, Yori took a seat on the sofa and pulled out her PADD to skim over the latest security reports while she waited. It wasn't until she heard what almost sounded like her name coming from room that she looked up from her PADD. "Captain?" she asked puzzled. When no reply came, the lieutenant stood and made her way over towards the bathroom. The door had been left wide open, so the woman stood to the side of the doorway to give the senior officer privacy. She was met with only the sound of running water and started to turn away when she heard what sounded like her name again, in between moans no less. Curiously got the best of her. Pressing her eyes shutting, knowing full well this was a bad idea, she peaked inside the room to see the Langdon stroking his cock. Tori stood there, her body half concealed by the doorway, frozen as she stared at his hard cock. Her body felt momentarily numb as shock gripped her senses.

Tazesh audibly gasped before she could catch herself. Bright red with embarrassment, she covered her mouth and quickly hid around the corner, back against the wall, hoping he didn't hear or see her. Fuck, fuck, fuck, you just had to look. Yori scolded herself. She knew very well what she might see, and this was his private quarters after all. Heart pounding in her chest, she made her way over to the furthest sofa and tried her best to compose herself. Tilting up her PADD as if she were reading, she stared absently at the screen. Her mind was going in a million directions. Had he really moaned her name? If he had, does that mean...? She shook her head. No, of course not, she tried her best to dismiss the thought. She had just been reinstated to Security and gotten a promotion; no way was she about to mess that up with her needless curiosity.
 
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When Langdon had heard Yori gasp, he actually didn't stop nor slow down. He hoped she'd take the hint and join him, but alas, she did not. Should he shout her name when he came? The question was rendered moot when he actually did so without thinking.

A few minutes later, the shower could be heard shutting off and an odd sort of warbling noise as Langdon passed through the hydrostatic forcefield that kept the water in the shower cubicle (and, as it turned out, other fluids) but allowed people to pass through it. Even though the field dried him from head to toe, he still wrapped a towel around himself...poorly enough that little was left to the imagination. Which was the point.

Walking into the main room, he stopped and feigned surprise rather convincingly. "Oh, Yori! You're early! I honestly didn't expect you to be here. You look good today." Smiling unambiguously, he continued towards his bedroom, the towel flowing around him revealing more than it covered as the air caused it to move.

Calling from the open bedroom door, he said, "Can you do me a favor and preheat the skillet with some butter? I won't be but a moment!"
 
Soon as she'd dismissed the thought from her mind, did Langdon clearly shout her name. Jolting straight up in her seat, heart pounding, she could no longer deny that he had moaned her name while... she shook her head as if one could shake that realization from their mind. He was her superior and she had to keep this professional. She doubted there would be a second reassignment for her should Starfleet catch wind.

Hearing the captain pass through the hydrostatic forcefield, Tazesh tried pretending as if she had heard nothing, relaxing into the seat while browsing her PADD. "Good morning, Captain. I arrived just moments ago." She lied, looking up in that moment to see the senior officer wrapped in barely a towel. Trying to maintain some sense of professionalism, she looked down and tried to wipe the, admittedly pleasant, image of the man's body from her mind. Once again rattling her composure with a comment on her appearance she mumbled quietly, "Uh, thanks" while she felt heat rise in her cheeks.

The lieutenant was grateful he'd requested she heat the pan. A distraction was just what she needed. The room soon filled with the sound of metal pans clanking against one another as she scoured through the kitchen island's cabinet searching for the skillet while a stick of butter softened on the countertop. Flustered, the normally keen-eyed Bajoran had failed to notice the skillet was already sitting on the cook top.
 
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Langdon was silently chuckling at how flustered Tazesh was, and saved her from further torment by calling out, "It's already on the cooktop, Yori." Hoping that the use of her given name would at least show his interest was maybe a little bit serious, he emerged from his quarters fully dressed, his combadge glinting faintly in the light. "I'm thinking we can just make pancakes with some sausage links. Do you remember how I showed you to do it?" He began to hum cheerfully as he got out the ingredients.

Meanwhile, in Ops, Nog was tracking some unidentified ships using some kind of stealth technology to scramble their sensors so they were rendered unidentifiable from long range. "Mr. Shran, launch a Class 3 probe, see if we can get a better idea of what we're looking at." The Andorian nodded. "Aye, sir." A few moments later, the viewscreen switched to a visual of five Breen ships before one of them fired a weapon at the probe, and the feed went dead. "Damn, are they probing us, or is this the real deal?", Shran half-joked. The Ferengi didn't find it very funny. "Yellow Alert. Captain Langdon, please report to Ops immediately," Nog said, all business. "On my way," Langdon said. Turning to Tazesh, he grimaced. "Looks like breakfast will have to wait," he said, grabbing a phaser from a drawer and attaching it to his waist. "Leave the PADD," he reminded her as he exited his quarters on his way to the turbolift.
 
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"Phekk," the Bajoran cursed under her breath before standing rather stiff in front the cook top. In her embarrassment and shame, his use of her given name had almost gone unnoticed, almost. She wished it had as its use only made the lieutenant more flustered. What she wouldn't do for a glass of Springwine right now to calm her nerves. What was going on? Was she imagining all this? From everything she had heard, Captain Marshall Langdon was a strait-laced senior officer. The deep voice sounding from his quarters as he emerged tore her from thought. Thank the Prophets, he was fully clothed.

"Aye, sir." She overcompensated, behaving more formal than was usual. Yori gathered one of the medium-sized mixing bowls while Langdon cheerfully got out the remaining ingredients. "How did you learn to cook?" She inquired while scooping out flour into the bowl. The lieutenant was genuinely curious why the man preferred to spend his time preparing food instead of using one of the newly repaired replicators.

Yori, whisk in hand and absently biting her lip, had just begun mixing the wet ingredients in when Nog''s voice sounded over the Captain's comm. Yellow Alert. All the fluster and confusion the woman had exhibited melted away as Tazesh sprang into action. She turned off the cook top and stored the mix in the refrigerator. Knowing Yori well by now, her hand had already begun reaching for the PADD before he reminded her to leave it behind. It may have well been another appendage.

Breen? Tzenkethi? She silently wondered what the threat might be. There was no need for guesswork though as the pair would soon be in Ops and briefed on the station's threat.
 
On their way to the Turbolift, Captain Langdon stopped at a weapons locker and handed Tazesh a hand phaser and tossed her a phaser rifle. "You never know what might happen," he said as he grabbed his own rifle and proceeded to the turbolift. "Ops," he said to the computer, and the hum of the lift was the only sound that heralded their journey through the station to its bustling nerve center. As soon as the doors open, he barked out, "Report!" Nog quickly ran through what had happened, and showed the sensor telemetry from the probe before it was destroyed. "Right, send a message to Starfleet. Shran, start deploying security details. Prin, make sure the Breen translation matrix is online." The crew started to hop to it, but they were interrupted by something surprising.

"Captain, there's a subspace broadcast coming in on all frequencies. Audio only." Shran looked nervous as he gave the report. Langdon nodded grimly, and the speakers were soon spilling out a message in Breen, which the translator read as: "Federation dogs. Your time has ended. We shall accomplish what the Dominion could not. Your outposts will be the first to fall. Then your colonies. Then your core worlds. All will bow to us or perish." The transmission cut off, and just as everyone was looking at each other, Shran shouted, "INCOMING!" The entire station was rocked by an explosion, and Shran's console erupted in an inferno of shrapnel and flame. The unmistakeable sound of the Red Alert alarm rang in their dazed ears as Langdon didn't even realize he was on the floor, atop Tazesh no less. It seemed that he had instinctively yanked her down so she wouldn't get hit. Coughing slightly, Langdon shouted, "All hands, battle stations! Return fire! Nog, get to the Maryland!" The Ferengi called over an acknowledgement and disappeared in the soft light of a transporter beam. Ops was smoky, sparking but the worst damage was on the primary tactical console, the station was receiving more muted impacts now that the shields were up...but Lieutenant Shran was face-down on the deck, unmoving. Grabbing a medical tricorder, Langdon confirmed what his instincts had feared: the Andorian was dead. "Right. Lieutenant Tazesh, you're acting Chief of Security. Get on the auxiliary console and return fire! We'll mourn him later." He snapped the tricorder shut and took Nog's place at the ops console. "Shields are holding, the Maryland is engaging. Two of the Breen ships are already dead in the water."
 
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