Chapter Text
There was a moment’s hesitation between Sandhurst pressing the door’s enunciator, and Plazzi’s reluctant sounding invitation to enter. He stepped into the stateroom and Sandhurst found Plazzi busy packing up his belongings; an assortment of cargo boxes and suitcases littered the cabin.
“You don’t waste time, do you, Elisto?”
The older man smiled mirthlessly as he folded a shirt and placed it into a carryall. “I’ve got to do this before I lose my nerve, Captain. That’s what kept me in Starfleet so long my first time around; I’m a sentimental fool who gets too attached to his shipmates.”
Sandhurst nodded wordlessly as he looked past the science officer and out the viewport where white stars shone against an obsidian backdrop, all signs of the accursed Briar Patch now far behind them. Sandhurst glanced at a framed picture of Plazzi and a woman Donald presumed to be his wife. The two were smiling broadly and were surrounded by children and grandchildren. “The feeling is mutual, you know,” the captain said finally.
Plazzi paused from his task to look up. “I know, and I’m sorry I’m leaving on a sour note.”
Sandhurst frowned, “How so?”
“Popping off at you like that on the bridge, it was inexcusable.” Plazzi shook his head, his cheeks coloring as he recalled the incident. “That was the big clue that it’s time for me to get a nice, cushy planetside assignment until Starfleet ends the stop-loss order and I can muster out again. When you wanted to try that stunt with the engines to get around the Son’a, all I could think of was my family. I’m ashamed to admit that at that moment nothing else mattered, not you, not the away team. Nothing.
“You didn’t fail in your duty, if that’s what you’re afraid of, Elisto. If anything, you, Pell, and Ashok may have talked me out of a suicidal plan that would have resulted in disaster.”
Plazzi grimaced, “That’s not the point, sir, and you know it. A captain’s orders must be followed, most especially in a crisis, or lives can be lost. I… I just can’t do that anymore.”
“Fair enough,” Sandhurst conceded. “I told you before that the moment you gave me the word, I’d have you to the nearest starbase as fast as possible.” He met Plazzi’s trouble gaze, “You’re sure this is what you want?”
“Captain,” Elisto said softly, “the word is given.”
Sandhurst extended his hand. “And so it is. We’re heading for Starfleet’s new shipyard at Pacifica to make repairs. You can catch a transport from there back to Earth.”
Plazzi shook the captain’s hand firmly. “Thank you, sir. It’s been a pleasure serving with you these last six months.”
“Likewise, Elisto. Likewise.”
*****
Sandhurst’s next stop was two decks down, a smaller interior cabin whose door tag still shown blank, it’s occupant as yet undecided if Gibraltar would be his new assignment.
Ensign Kuenre Shanthi stood awkwardly from his dining table as Sandhurst entered the cabin at the younger man’s prompting. He smiled, “Relax, Mister Shanthi. Might I have a moment of your time?”
“Of course, sir.” Shanthi moved to the sitting area and gestured for Sandhurst to have a seat across from him.
Sandhurst settled into a chair and spared no time in getting to the meat of the matter. “Commander Plazzi’s leaving at our next layover. I need a new chief science officer. The job is yours if you want it, Ensign.”
Shanthi looked painfully uncertain. “I’ve given it a lot of thought, Captain, and I’d previously decided to accept the post if you offered… but now…”
Sandhurst leaned forward, “Ensign, I’m truly sorry for what happened to you on Ba’ku. With time and the proper medical intervention, you will get better. Take it from someone who knows. But, in the words of a famous starship captain, risk is our business. I can’t promise you that nothing bad will ever happen to you again. No one can.”
Shanthi stared off into the void, a distant look affixed to his features. “I realize that, sir, but I’m having trouble shaking this off and getting past it.”
As he sounded an empathetic note, Sandhurst countered, “Something that awful, that invasive, will be with you for a long time to come. Regardless, you have to decide where your career goes from here. You’re in a unique position, as I’m sure you’re well aware. At a word, you could have nearly any science posting in the Fleet…”
“Captain, I’d never—“
Sandhurst waved him off. “I’m not suggesting that you would, Kuenre. I'm merely noting that you have an option available to you that few others have. The pressure of having that ‘out’ only adds to your burden, am I right?”
Shanthi nodded grudgingly.
“So, what’s it to be? Do you spend the rest of your career safe behind a desk or in a laboratory someplace, or do you spend it out here, where your strength, courage, and knowledge will be put to the test on a regular basis?”
The young man looked torn.
“Kuenre, I know that you want to make your own way in Starfleet, to chart a course different from that of your mother. Gibraltar’s as good a place to start as any. You can be sure that serving on this ship, nobody will be able to accuse you of currying favoritism with Admiral Shanthi, or anyone else.”
The young man’s resolve seemed to firm before Sandhurst’s eyes. The look of consternation on his face was replaced by one of cautious optimism. “I accept, Captain.”
*****
Somewhere in the Cerulean Sea…
The outgoing tide lapped at the white, crystalline beaches of Isla del Cristal, a resort island in Pacifica’s Crescent de la Luz chain. Sundancer palms waved in the warm breeze under a blazing yellow sun, making the setting the personification of many humans’ ideal of paradise.
Donald Sandhurst, clad only in a pair of Bermuda shorts, lay comfortably atop a lounge chair, a tall sweating glass of some tropical drink concoction grasped lightly in one hand. “Sorry I had to drag you back here,” he noted languidly to his friend. “I know it’s hell, but this was the closest shipyard available.”
“Mmmm,” Pell Ojana replied noncommittally from beneath her shaded eyewear, “Marooned on Pacifica twice in as many weeks. If this is part of Starfleet’s post-prison supervision plan, I’ve got to say, I approve wholeheartedly.”
Sandhurst marshaled his strength and committed fully to the arduous task of having to raise his glass to his mouth and take a long drink from the straw. “Speaking of plans, Commander, do you have any thoughts on your next posting?”
A pregnant pause followed, and Pell finally replied just as Sandhurst was mustering the energy to turn his head to look at her. “I know a delightful little escort ship in desperate need of a diplomatic officer. I’m good friends with the captain. I don’t think getting assigned there will be much of a problem.”
“I can’t imagine it would be,” Sandhurst agreed. “In fact I can think of one admiral right off the top of my head who’d be tickled to sign the transfer orders.” He turned his head, squinting in the direct sunlight. “Increase sunscreen another ten percent,” he instructed the silently hovering servitor drone. The small floating sphere ionized the air over the pair and reduced the glare accordingly. “What about Glover?” he asked cautiously. “I’m sure he’ll be getting another ship soon.”
She sighed, as if the very question was an intrusion upon her present blissful state. “I can’t be around Terrence and Jasmine right now. Too much angst there, and if I’m near either of them I’m going to end up in the middle of it.”
The sudden tension that had set in Sandhurst’s shoulders when he posed the question ebbed quickly. “You know,” he teased, “most ships our size aren’t assigned a diplomatic officer.”
“Now you’re complaining?” she asked, her voice laced with mock consternation. “Remember, I’ve read your ship’s logs, Sandy. Believe me, you need a diplomatic officer. You and your crew operate with all the subtly of a brick through a glass window.”
Sandhurst chuckled at that as he fished around in his glass for a piece of ice which he then drew up Pell’s exposed stomach beside him. Rather than the indignant howl he’d been aiming for, instead his efforts elicited a low moan. “Naughty captain. You’ll have to wait for that, sir. Dinner first, then aerobic activity. I’m not that easy after all.”
“That’s my girl,” he replied lazily.
The combadge in his pocket vibrated, and the tiny comms earpiece he’d inserted came to life. “Captain, have you got a minute?” It was Ramirez.
“Mm-hmmm,” he sub-vocalized in response.
Just then, as luck would have it, Pell sat up. “Okay, I’ve reached maximum thermal absorbance. Time for a swim. Care to join me?”
“I’ll sit this one out, thanks.”
“Your loss.” Pell leaned forward and kissed him. It was a passionate, lingering kiss full of promise. Then she turned and ran down and into the breaking surf.
A shadow fell across Sandhurst, who looked up to find a winsome female standing over him, wearing a revealing bikini top with a sarong wrapped around her waist. The captain blinked as the woman stepped through the lensing sunblock field, disrupting it. He squinted around a raised hand and held up his drink, “Thanks, but I’m only half finished with this one.”
“I guess it’s a good thing that I wasn't offering to refill it for you, sir," Ramirez noted with a wry smile.
Sandhurst jerked forward and sloshed his drink onto his lap, “Oh, frinx!” Ramirez couldn’t be sure if he was merely sunburned or blushing as he contritely offered, “Apologies, Exec. I didn’t recognize you.”
“So I gathered,” Ramirez said distractedly, her eyes on the figure now swimming out beyond the breakers. “Anything from the experts?” she asked.
“No,” he replied as he dabbed at his lap with a towel. “Nothing the Vulcans or Betazoids can detect, anyway.”
Ramirez asked pointedly, “What do you think?”
He followed her gaze out to where Pell cut through the water with sure strokes, and Sandhurst’s voice tightened. “I honestly don’t know. She seems fine. Better than fine, actually, more content than I’ve seen her in years. As for whether she’s a ticking time bomb for the Bajora-Tava… only time will tell.” He abandoned the straw and took a long draught of his drink, finishing it. “Needless to say, Starfleet wants us to steer clear of Bajor for awhile.”
“That makes sense.”
He shifted topics and asked, “Everything ready to go for Plazzi’s farewell party tonight?”
“Yes, sir. We’ve reserved the community hall and all four of the resort’s holodecks, room enough for about four hundred people. With the SCE puttering around on Gibraltar for the next four days the entire crew’s freed up to attend. Taiee and her people are putting up the decorations right now. Should be a smashing get together.”
“And Plazzi?”
Ramirez glanced up at the sun, then turned and pointed out to the horizon using dead reckoning. “He’s out deep-sea fishing with Pava, about two-hundred kilometers that way. They’ll be back before nightfall, though.”
“Sounds like you’ve covered all the bases, Commander. Nicely done.”
“Thank you, sir.”
His brain crunched the numbers a bit more slowly due to the heavily lubricated state of his synapses. Sandhurst frowned suddenly. “Wait, did you say four hundred? Isn’t that overkill? Our entire compliment is only one-hundred forty-three.”
“We’re expecting company, sir.”
He looked puzzled. “Odd, I thought we were the only Starfleet ship in orbit right now.”
Ramirez smirked as she explained, “Captain Shelby wants her chief medical officer back ASAP, and arranged to pick her up here. Sutherland’s due to warp in at nineteen-hundred hours.”
“Wait… you don’t mean…”
His XO nodded, grinning. “Oh, yes sir. Once I’d explained we were having a party, well… you know.”
“Sutherland,” Sandhurst echoed numbly. “Heaven help us.”
“Just so, sir.”
*****
Three weeks later…
The transporter deposited them on a cobblestone pathway leading to a charming two-story country cottage, surrounded by meticulously trimmed foliage and blooming flowers. Anij looked around, drinking in the gently rolling hills in the distance, acres of land covered in some kind of harvestable vegetation.
“What are those, Jean-Luc?”
He smiled, “Those are vineyards, my dear. The people of this region grow a fruit called grapes that’s made into wine.”
She turned back to the house. “And the home?”
“It belongs to my family. This is La Barre, my home.”
*****