[USS Vanguard] RPG: On a Pale Horse
- From: "Andy W. Ho" <andywoho@xxxxxxxxx>
- To: USS Vanguard <ncv80221@xxxxxxxxxxxxx>
- Date: Sun, 6 Jan 2002 15:18:40 -0800 (PST)
Capt. Dominic Santos
Event Horizon Lounge
After the last mission
Dominic Santos walked up to the bar.
Desdemona saw him walk up and made a "Just wait one minute" gesture as
she finished with a talkative Andorian.
Santos smiled and watched as she nodded and gestured to one of her
assistants to fill out the Andorian's order.
She blew noisily through her lips and wisps of hair jumped up from her
forehead.
"Sorry, it's crazy. When your crew does a reception, my muscles ache
for days afterward," she said with a lopsided grin. "Now I'm done
crying. What can I get you?"
"Orange ju--..." he began.
"Don't say 'orange juice.' Anything but 'orange juice.'"
Santos chuckled. "Glenfiddich, water, rocks."
Desdemona cocked her head at him. "C'mon. You might as well just drink
water. Try again."
"Glenfiddich, rocks."
"What? I didn't hear that."
"Glen, neat."
"Coming right up." Desdemona went to the other end of the bar and
produced a green bottle from underneath the counter.
She returned with a glass of amber liquid.
"To your health," Santos toasted, knocking back the drink. "One for
yourself."
She did. "Sante," she toasted, belting back the shot in one swift move.
Without missing a beat, she addressed Santos: "Word on the boat is that
the ensign in Science is getting another pip."
"You'll just have to wait like everyone else."
"Fine," she said, with mock annoyance. "Next time you need
intelligence, don't send D'Angelo to me." To his somewhat amusement,
Santos couldn't tell if she were kidding.
Santos turned to the crew. They were milling around, picking at the
appetizers, chatting merrily with one another. Smiles all around.
Santos walked toward the makeshift podium next to the bar.
Desdemona watched him make his way over, put two fingers in her mouth
and whistled fit to split the air.
"Hey! Listen up, people!"
They did.
Santos turned to Desdemona. "Madam," he said, "you never fail to
impress me."
She nodded her head and grinned.
"A better writer than I once said, 'It was the best of times, it was
the worst of times.' I don't know how many other crews have lost two
members only to recover them so quickly. That's due to the courage of
two task forces, but also the courage of Qbed and our hostess tonight."
Qbed stepped forward and curtsied. Desdemona jumped up on the bar and
wiggled her fingers over her head. There were cheers and applause and a
couple wolf-whistles. For the first time since he had known him, Santos
noticed McCaw frowning and did his best to hide his grin.
"All right, settle down," Santos chuckled. "We're here to honor the
accomplishments of our new ensign. Kieran Darkwater: step forward."
The young science officer made his way next to Santos without a word.
"Thank your department head, Zena. She tells me that you're not as big
a pain in the...Bussard collector as we may think. Somehow, someone,
somewhere thinks you have promise." Santos held out his hand, and
Yeoman Challis placed a velvet box in his hand. "Ensign Kieran
Darkwater, for bravery, for courage, for keeping an amazingly clear
head under fire, I hereby promote you to the rank of lieutenant, junior
grade, with all rights and privileges. Congratulations! I'm sure the
rank will fit you well."
Santos pinned the pip on Darkwater's collar and shook his hand.
Darkwater turned and nodded solemnly to the crowd, lifting his arm once
as the crew applauded.
"Say a few words, lieutenant. I'm sure we want to hear what you have to
say."
He did. [Over to you, lieutenant! - Andy]
When Darkwater finished, Santos began to mill around the room. He
laughed and shook hands and slapped officers on the shoulders as he
made his way around.
"...is an interesting idea. Never thought of it myself." Mandrake's
eyebrows were raised as Vokar stood by, nodding. Counselor E'thexx and
Highwaij stood by, sipping their drinks and pondering the conversation.
Santos snuck up on Mandrake and clasped him on the shoulder noisily. It
was the sort of "Well met, hearty fellow!" gesture he hated from his
former superior officers, but now he understood why they did it. It was
funny. And he couldn't help it.
"What's an 'interesting idea,' Helm?" Santos boomed, he nodded to the
others, who nodded back.
"Well...nothing, sir. Let me work on it some and get back to you."
"Sounds fair. I'll leave you to it, but let me know."
Out of the corner of his eye, Santos saw Qbed place her glass of ginger
ale--which, now mostly mortal, she had recently begun calling her
"favorite beverage"--down on a nearby table and put her hand to her
temple. Sam McCaw turned from a conversation, his face changing from
merriment to concern.
Santos watched as McCaw mouthed "Are you okay?" to which Qbed
soundlessly replied "I'm fine." McCaw took her by the elbow as her hand
stayed near her temple. McCaw nodded to Dr Droin, who made her way
over. Together, they left Event Horizon.
Santos frowned and made a note to follow-up later.
He spotted Zena Quetan and Soman Drath and started to make his way
over, passing Chen'ki at the bar.
"...call this Romulan Ale?!" he heard the Romulan Exchange Officer
demand of Desdemona's assistant as Desdemona rushed over.
He looked around and saw Denville D'Angelo standing quietly with
Temporal Specialist Alvon Stratford. Martin Petrov studied the buffet
line.
"If I haven't said it lately," he said to Soman and Quetan, breaking in
on their conversation, "I want to thank you two. I'm fortunate to have
the both of you working with me; you make me look good."
"Captain, the pleasure's mine," Soman said.
"Why, thank you, kind sir," Quetan smiled. She looked thoughtful.
"There's something I've been meaning to bring up with you..."
"Really?" Santos replied. "All right, let's talk."
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