A Quick Phone Call

[Jameson Bardolph 0]

Ensign Jameson "Whiskey" Bardolph trotted down the corridor of the USS Republic, running a hand along the bulkheads, his light eyes narrowed at the corners in a contented grin. He'd only been aboard the Galaxy-class ship a few weeks, only on the Alpha shift a few days, and already he felt very comfortable with her; the low, almost imperceptible hum of the deck plating was like a heartbeat vibrating gently under his feet. And he hadn't realized how much, during the two years of station duty, he'd missed that undefinable sensation of forward motion peculiar to shipboard life; growing up on the Fenrir, it had been something so prevalent as not even to be thought about, something not to be missed until it was gone. But there was no question that this transfer felt, in a small way, like coming home.

 

He turned the corner into his quarters and noticed at once that a light was blinking lazily on the console near the far wall. Quickly he jogged over and flopped down into the seat, calling up the message and scrolling to see who had sent it. A wide smile spread across his face and he tapped open a communications line.

 

There was a short silence as the UFP symbol spun on the screen over the words, "Establishing connection." Then the console beeped again and displayed an image of another set of quarters, with a short, stocky dark-haired woman just sliding into a seat at her own console. She caught his eyes and grinned mischievously before he could say anything in greeting.

 

"You have reached the office of the USS Adelphi engineering department, Casey Bardolph speaking. Please hold for the next available attendant."

 

Her wrist flicked out and the screen went dark, then displayed the words, "Connection terminated."

 

Whiskey burst out laughing. "Blast you..." he murmured with a tone of affectionate aggravation, and tapped the console to reopen the line again. The screen flashed on, again revealing the woman tipped back in her chair with her hands behind her head, looking pleased with herself.

 

"Hi there, little brother, and what may I do for you this evening?" she asked him, as if nothing had happened.

 

Whiskey stuck out his tongue at her. "Dunno why I call back, Magnet, if you just want t' be a waste of my time," he said dryly.

 

"Well, I have a busy social schedule," his sister drawled. Casey had been nicknamed "Magnet" in their youth (by the same rowdy helmsman who had given Whiskey his own moniker) for the affinity and care, just short of maniacal, she displayed for all things metallic and mechanical, but her laconic tone now would hardly have indicated she was capable of such enthusiasm. Leaning back in her seat, she put her feet up on the desk with a low thud and lounged before the video receiver. "Even you've got to wait in line on occasion. Got my call, then?"

 

"Aye. It's about time you got in touch with me; you've been out of contact for ages. The Adelphi keeping you busy?"

 

"Border patrol, mostly; it's slow and steady for the most part but not the best for getting calls home," Magnet said cheerfully. "But what about you, kid? Finally got yourself on the move again?"

 

Whiskey's chest puffed a little with pride in spite of the casual tone of his voice. "Yes, ma'am -- you are speaking to the newest alpha shift security officer for the USS Republic."

 

"Galaxy-class." Magnet whistled, her eyebrows raising somewhat. "And you not even an engineer to appreciate her properly."

 

"Hey!" Whiskey retorted, folding his arms across his chest. "I grew up in the same hull you did; I know a good ship when I see her."

 

"Shiny, is she?"

 

"Ah, she's beautiful. 'Course, after fattening my rear sitting around on a station for two years, I'd have hopped a shuttlepod and called it a cruiser," Whiskey said dryly. "But she's a powerful ship. My chief's got me on a patrol that takes me through engineering and...well, the whole place is a sight, I'll say that for certain." His eyes sparked in a gleeful smile.

 

Magnet laughed. "Just don't touch anything and break it; you know we don't take kindly to that."

 

Whiskey smirked, raising his eyebrows slightly. "Trust me, I mean to watch my footing. Let's just say I have no intention of gettin' the CENG mad at me."

 

"Mmmm...a girl?" Magnet asked, smiling tauntingly. "Or just a guy who could whip you?"

 

Whiskey rolled his eyes. "The former -- and a pretty one too, I might add."

 

"Lord...you do like aiming high, don't you? How many pips?" Magnet asked, quirking an eyebrow.

 

"Three."

 

"Mother of...I hope only two are gold, or you're really asking her to rob the cradle...Ensign," Magnet quipped. "Been chatting her up, have you, on that patrol route of yours?"

 

Whiskey chuckled. "Maybe a little; didn't seem to bother her. She's nice enough; clearly loves shipboard duty -- her dad's an engineer like ours, only he apparently runs Planitia stem to stern." He paused to ensure that Magnet looked suitably impressed, then shook his head. "Not expecting it to go anywhere, a' course. Though..." he added with an impish grin "...word on the grapevine is we may be taking shore leave soon...so who knows?"

 

Magnet groaned. "I hope you're joking, little brother."

 

"Always am," Whiskey replied with a laugh. "Don't worry, Magnet; I don't intend to get myself into trouble. Whatever else I might be, am I stupid?"

 

"Well..."

 

"Don't answer that," Whiskey said, giving her a dirty look.

 

Magnet chuckled and shook her head. "Look, I need to get some sleep, Whiskey; got some early work before shift tomorrow. I'll comm you again when I've got a free minute. Meantime, you stay safe, alright?"

 

Whiskey smiled. "Aye, that's the plan. Take care, Magnet. Bardolph out."