A View from the cockpit

[will_marx 0]

Ranko settled the twins down in their crib, and looked out the viewports. Or tried to look out the viewports. Ever since the Arcadia’s arrival to wherever, the external viewports had been shuttered. This was rationalized by the First Officer, in one of his intercom advisories, to prevent penetration through the structurally weakest portion of the hull—the viewports. Xian Pu had been on edge ever since Will had left for the away team mission, almost as if the lavender-haired Amazon had a feeling that something was going to happen to their husband. The redheaded wife of Japanese descent chalked Shampoo’s nerves up as being in an unfamiliar place.

 

“When is he going to get back,” Shampoo asked, quietly.

 

“I don’t know, Xian,” Ranko replied, after placing Hayden in her crib. “He’s barely had time to even come down and say hello to us ever since we got here, let alone eat dinner. Wherever ‘here’ is.”

 

“Too true,” Shampoo replied. “‘The path of a Starfleet officer is fraught with peril.’”

 

“Don’t forget the corollary: ‘The path of a Starfleet spouse is fraught with peril, frustration and boredom.’”

The two sister-wives laughed, letting the tensions from the previous several days release. “So what’s for dinner tonight?”

 

Shampoo rummaged through the box of emergency rations they were provided, and pulled out several cardboard boxes. With ship’s power minimal do to the warp core offline, a lot of normal “convenience” items, like the replicators, had been deactivated. “Take your pick: Ham and lima beans or spiced beef.”

 

“Blech,” Ranko muttered. “Why couldn’t Starfleet have provided something more palatable?

 

“I’ll take the spiced beef. And if you have a pecan roll, I’ll trade you my cookies.”

 

“Ok,” Shampoo replied, as she opened the ham and lima beans with a grimace.

 

------

Marx left Security, R4 in tow. His briefing of observed Imperial tactics with Aaron left much to be desired. Because he hadn’t seen much, other than what was immediately in front of the cockpit canopy on his X-wing. The attack profile on the Valiant had been successful only because of one thing—the Interdictor’s defense systems had been knocked offline, along with the rest of the ship, when she was hit by the Rebel ion cannon. Duplicating that feat on a fully armed and operational Star Destroyer would be suicidal. And if he died, his wives would kill him all over again in the afterlife.

 

The only thing Will wanted to do was to go to his quarters, peel off his EV suit, take a long hot shower, eat dinner, say hello to his kids, spend some quality time with his wives and sleep for a month. Oh yeah, and introduce their newest houseguest to his family.

 

------

The door to the cabin took the opportunity, at that moment, wheeze open. Both Mrs. Marxs looked towards the entry. In the dim emergency lighting, they could barely make out the two shapes standing in the dimly lit corridor. There hadn’t been an intruder alert posted on the ship’s intercom, but that could have simply meant that the bridge had been taken before the alert was sent out. Ranko and Shampoo looked at each other, and said a silent countdown to three, before launching themselves at the potential intruder.

 

The smaller of the two shadows backed up, recognizing a threat when it saw one, and self-preservation subroutines kicked in. The larger of the two dodged both wives. “You know, R4, I could have sworn my wives would have been anxious to get me alone, but not that anxious to attack me in the corridor.” The little droid made a noise that sounded like a cross between a cackle and a laugh, as a section of his dome opened up, and a floodlight climbed out, lighting up both the corridor and the entry foyer to their quarters.

 

Shampoo promptly recovered and bopped her husband on the back of his head. “Amazon husband shouldn’t be keeping Amazon wives worried,” she chastised, in her bubblehead accent. The Amazon could, of course, speak Standard with the finest Oxford-educated scholars. She just liked to play the bubblehead sometimes to either tease or mislead.

 

“Yeah, well, what would you expect on a secret away team mission.” Leading all four of them back into the room, Marx kissed and hugged his wives. “I’d like you to meet R4-D5. He’s sort of coming with us.” The droid chirped a greeting, as Ranko and Shampoo bowed to it.

 

“So, how long are you going to be here,” Ranko asked.

 

“I don’t know. We left the system with some pretty irate people behind us. They could be here any time.”

 

“I guess you’ll be leaving us again in the very near future?” Shampoo asked, as the three humans settled down on to the couch for some quality snuggling time. R4 wandered off to investigate his apparently new quarters.

 

“Probably, Xian,” Will replied, “you know ‘The path of a Starfleet officer is fraught with peril’, and all of Genma’s other useless platitudes.”

 

“But you will come back to us, right, Will? None of that crap that Chris pulled during his time in SOCOM?” Ranko asked, her liquid blue eyes full of…not fear, but worry.

 

Will kissed each of his wives tenderly on the forehead. “Of course I will. I have no desire to be trapped in this galaxy if the Mad Scientist in Engineering can get his Phoenix Project working again.

 

“You two do realize that a Department Head’s work is never done, right?”

 

“Of course,” Xian replied. “We’d just like to see you home for dinner every now and then.”

 

“And the last message I got from Mom was that she wants you to be a “man amongst men” and fulfill your manly duties with more grandbabies.” All three of them shuddered together. If there was one thing that Nodoka Saotome was very single-minded on, it was for tons of grandchildren to spoil. Although Ranko was incapable, there was still her sister-wife. “She even suggested we find you a mistress here on the ship.”

 

“I have no desire to be a baby making machine for your mother,” Xian said, sourly. “I am an Amazon warrior, not some hillbilly’s wife, barefoot and pregnant all the time.”

 

“Don’t I know…” Will’s comment was cut short by the alert klaxon sounding, followed by his sister’s voice.

 

“Battle stations,” came over the intercom. “All hands man your battle stations. This is not a drill.”

 

Hugging each of his wives, Will stood, shaking his head. “Damnit, just when I was getting some quality time with my wives.” He looked at them, their eyes filled again with pensive emotions. “I’ll be back as soon as I can. I love you both.” He gathered up his helmet; “R4, let’s go,” he called, and the little green and gray droid trundled out of the kids’ room. Tapping his badge, he began relaying orders to the Security Department. “Marx to Security: Set Condition One, anti-intruder. Coordinate with 355th Recon Headquarters on disposition of forces.

 

“Marx to Bridge: Where do you need me?”