Ruminations

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Her quarters darkened, Audraya sat on the couch, staring out the armored viewport at the traffic passing the orbiting destroyer. T'Aral had ordered her to take four hours of “personal” time, but she found it difficult, and instead had a quiet dinner with Tifa. Everything about the previous mission irked her...not so much the crossing into disputed space on a possible rescue mission, but everything else. The damaged, yet intact, communications buoy. The smarmy Klingon captain, retiring after disagreeing with the Imperial High Command's decisions about Nero. Klingon captains don't normally retire, unless it was due to an aggravated disruptor bolt to the head. Nor do they dispute decisions coming from Q'onos. The majority of the crew of the SS Demeter remaining aboard, serving under Korloth, aboard a D-5 medium cruiser turned freighter. Most Klingon warships do not make useful merchantmen.

 

Add to the fact that Crash was confined to quarters for 48 hours didn't help. At least the crew kept the ship running efficiently in port, even with those down on the planet for liberty. Admiral Coyote, true to her word, advised Audraya of the gist of the meeting she had with the Captain, as well as their new orders. Cattle drive...and some enterprising crewman had changed the muzak to the Blues Brothers cover of “Rawhide” in the lifts. While it would definitely give a new meaning to the term “Milk Run,” it wasn't exactly what they had wanted.

 

Loosening the sash on her robe, she stood and walked back into the bedroom. T'Aral was nothing but efficient, and was already gearing up Sickbay for veterinary medicine, Engineering was already taking into account the dirty job of handling the additional waste. And Crash was coming off her 48th hour of confinement.

 

As the Commander crawled back into bed, Audraya closed her eyes, a smile lingering on her face.