Here Comes The Judge
Posted on Tue Mar 5th, 2019 @ 10:47pm by Brigadier General Francis 'Judge' Sobel & Major Cadama Roi & Captain Ir'dama
Edited on on Tue Jun 4th, 2019 @ 1:34am
1,981 words; about a 10 minute read
Mission:
The Drumhead (Empok Nor Premier)
Location: Empok Nor
Timeline: MD002 0800 hrs
Frank N.M.I. Sobel swung himself out of the hatch of the FMC A-87 Peregrine attack craft and onto the hanger deck. He’d taken a turn on Combat Air Patrol and spent the last 10 hours warp skipping and around the space occupied by Empok Nor. It had been good to get his time in and keep his qual’s up, but he wasn’t used to putting that much time in the saddle anymore and he felt a dull ache in his back.
He didn’t need Tempest to remind him, though she would, of course.
“How was your flight, General?” the familiar voice of his aid de’ camp called out to him as he was pulling off his flight helmet and shutting down his flight suit.
Glancing up, he saw the tall Vulcan female standing in one of the safe zone spots nearby and he nodded. “Good afternoon, Captain. About what you would expect. Quiet. How’s everything here? I was glad to see the station where I left it and in one piece.”
“Well, I suppose we can thank Star Fleet for that, sir,” she told him as they began walking toward the ready room. “Most of the messages can wait until tomorrow, if you prefer. Mrs. Sobel messaged a few hours ago and would like you to contact her when you have the time. Colonel Sanders sent an updated schedule of their training cycle, as usual and Colonel Woods has Surprise Party in hand.”
She met his eyes and he nodded. Surprise Party was a readiness drill they’d decided to hold next week. “He’s still planning to brief me after tomorrow’s departmental meeting?” he asked.
“Yes sir,” Ir’dana confirmed as they reached the pilots ready room. “Alright,” he responded. “I’ll take a look at the mail after I go through debrief and get cleaned up. You’re dismissed, have a good evening Captain.”
She saluted, turned on her heel and strode off. He ducked into the squadron’s ready room and spent the next fifteen minutes going through a standard debrief with a very nervous looking 1st Lieutenant. Afterwards, he racked his gear and cleaned up.
A hot shower helped ease the ache in his back and he strode toward his quarters. He was mentally going through the list of things he needed to do before calling it a night when he saw Major Roi, his S2, waiting outside in the corridor outside his door.
He slowed, considering the intelligence officer and wondering why Ir’dana hadn’t mentioned anything. He liked Roi, she was a good solid officer, but sometimes she tried too hard.
“Major. You know my wife doesn’t like women lurking around my door,” he said by way of greeting, keeping his tone light.
“Sorry to bother you General. I know you just came in from that CAP, but Colonel Woods thought I should update you,” the younger woman told him. He nodded and keyed open his door and stepped through, glad again they’d dispensed with the marine sentry.
Once inside, he told her “Would you like a libation, Major?” Lights came up and when she nodded, he told her “You know where the bar is. I’m pulling rank, so I’ll have a martini if you don’t mind and help yourself to whatever you like.”
He slumped into a smooth leather couch, put his feet up and accepted the glass from her before she sat across him. She took a sip from what he thought was probably k’narr and then started. “Sir, I just found out that the Pioneer responding to a distress call on Cardassia Prime. However, there’s been some strange comm chatter and their fleet is going in two directions at once. That’s not overly strange, but it’s strange enough to have me wondering if something isn’t up.”
She let him mull that over while they both sampled their glasses and he nodded appreciatively. “Very good martini, Major. Thank you for that.” We have marines aboard the Pioneer, if I recall.”
“Yes sir, the Cure under 2nd Lieutenant Tremble,” she told him. At his blank looked, she said. “He’s that butter bar that Captain Malbrooke breveted from Gunnery Sgt.”
“Anything from this Tremble?” he asked.
“No sir.” she said.
“Well, keep your ears open and follow your instincts. And keep me in the loop,” he finally said.
“Aye aye, sir.” She said, bobbing her head.
“Anything else, Major? If not, you’re dismissed,” Sobel said and she stood, saluted and left his quarters.
Frank stood and made himself another martini and winced when he heard the com go off. That would very likely be Tempest. He walked over to the panel next to the bar, sat down and activated it. His wife of seventeen years looking at him and he raised the glass. “Ah my love, you grow more beautiful every day,” he told her.
“I love you too, Francis. Is that you or the booze talking,” her tone was more amused than angry and he grinned at her. “Why me of course, moy sladkiy (my sweet),” he told her as he munched an olive from his drink.
“And that’s likely the first food you’ve had in what, twelve hours, ocharovatel'naya krysa (you charming rat),” she stated, shaking her head.
“Well, yes. But this is only my second and Major Roi needed to talk something over.” He saw her eyes flash and sighed, realizing he probably shouldn’t have said that.
You’d think after seventeen years of marriage, he’d learn.
“Major Roi. The short red haired, good looking young woman that’s part of your entourage,” she queried archly.
“No, that’s Captain Reynolds. Major Roi has longer hair,” he admitted, knowing what she’d say next.
“Ah yes, now I remember,” she said, snapping her fingers.
It’s hard to keep your harem straight, you dirty old man.”
He took a measured drink from his glass, sniffed and told her. “My dear, you are perfectly aware that the Corp does not issue harems until you get at least two stars. They don’t issue wives until you get your Majority.”
“You’ll be seeing stars alright,” she grinned back at him. “How are you really, Francis?”
He smiled back at her and shrugged, “It was good to get some flight time in. Though I’m sorer than I’d like to admit too.”
Tempest’s eyes grew more concerned then, “Is it your back again?”
He nodded but shrugged, “Just what flying a desk does to you. But I’d rather deal with a bad back than give up my flight status and pay.”
“Foolishness,” she declared her grey eyes soft on him.
“How are the children,” he asked, changing the subject.
She didn’t take her eyes off of him, but smiled. “Terrors. Which is probably why you chose a posting in Cardassia space. Agnes is going to message you day after tomorrow, I think. She’s gotten a 3.9 average this round and has some news that I’m sworn to secrecy on.”
Tempest’s eyes still had concerned shadows, but took on a mischievous glint. “The boys are fine, demons possibly, but fine. They’re on a camp away this weekend on Trevor’s moon.”
He considered all that, nodding. “Let me know when they’ll be back so I can ask them about the trip and ask Agnes to try me after 21:00. I’m holding an officer’s Mess that evening.”
She shook her head and smiled, “You and your dress up parties, General.”
“Show up and we’ll make it a coming out party, my love,” he told her, winking.
Tempest actually blushed. Her shoulder length blonde hair had a few grey hairs invading, but her fair skin still colored easily and he smiled.
“You are a troublemaker,” she told him. Years ago, on their fourth date he’d mentioned they might attend a coming out party and she’d naïvely inquired as to what that might be.
He’d given her a stage leer then and told her, “Your clothes,” she’d blushed deep purple, slapped him and promptly took his arm.
They spoke for another few minutes and she signed out, telling him “Promise me you’ll eat. And something decent.”
“I think Marine supplement #070 is queued for tonight he told her, looking thoughtfully at the replicator. She looked at something off screen and reported, “Black pepper mushroom soup and a mixed green salad with herbal dressing” she considered. “I’m adding a herring tartar appetizer to that and tweaking the dressing. Pumpernickel bread with both, to tie it together. In fact, I’m keying and locking it into your replicator now. It sounds nice; I think I’ll try it myself. We can at least eat the same thing and it’ll give us something to talk about in a couple of days.”
“That sounds like a good idea, my sweet,” he told her, looking at her a long moment in the screen. She blew him a kiss then and said,”Au revoir mon amour” before cutting the link.
He stared at the screen for a moment and finished off his drink before standing and murmured, “Why is French so much more sexy than Russian. Well, maybe because it’s Mae saying it,” he smiled to himself.
“Unable to answer,” the computer’s voice told him. “Do you wish me to lodge an inquiry with Communications and Behavior Sciences?”
“Who asked you,” he retorted. The computer had a bad habit of paying attention when Frank was talking to himself.
It was unnerving.
“And no, do not file queries,” he ordered. Frank could imagine the questions that would come up if those queries queued.
He snorted and turned to walking over to the wall-mounted turntable, placing a James Brown album into the cradle. Once I Feel Good began playing, Frank dimmed the rooms lighting, he turned to the replicator and summoned his food.
A tray appeared and he chuckled at the addition of a demi bottle and wine glass appeared with the meal. Glancing at the label, it read Gavi de Gavi and he poured a glass before sitting down at the bar. He smelled it and sighed then. He wasn’t sure what it would taste like. In general, he despised replicated booze.
Replicated food was bad enough, but he didn’t like eating out that much. Replicated booze though, was akin to kissing your sister, as one of his commanding officers had once said. It was booze, but with the synthehol what was the point.
It smelled however, vaguely like the perfume he’d bought her for their 15th wedding anniversary and he realized how much he missed her. They’d been apart off and on for their entire marriage, but the missing her didn’t change.
They’d have to plan for a trip somewhere. Somewhere soon. Agnes could watch the boys for a few days, though she’d argue that her social status would slip. He started debating that and made a note to do some research. And he needed to send her some flowers, he decided.
Frank dug into the herring tartar and realized how hungry he was. A good book and a cognac for desert followed by nine hours in the rack sounded about right.
Brigadier General Francis Sobel
Comanding Officer, 258th Starfleet Marine Expeditionary Brigade
Empok Nor
Captain Ir'dama
Aide de Camp, 258th Starfleet Marine Expeditionary Brigade
Empok Nor
Major Cadam Roi
Intelligence Offier, 258th Starfleet Marine Expeditionary Brigade
Empok Nor
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