It Ain’t Over ‘Til It’s Over

[Dvokr chim Hok 0]

“It Ain’t Over ‘Til It’s Over”

Cdr Morrison and MCpt Granger

 

Morrison’s call sent Cass into high alert; there was a damn good chance their mission wasn’t over. Security override got the lift there in seconds. With backup on the way, Cass bolted from the lift, hand to her holster....

 

“Cassie? Is that you?”

 

Commander Morrison rounded the corner just as Cassie’s hand grasped her weapon.

 

A glance at Cass, then to her hand on the fully-charged phaser’s retention release, and Morrison said, “You take your job seriously I will grant you that.”

 

“Aye, sir. I do,” she replied, still on full alert. “You said there was an incident?”

 

“Yes, but... stand down. I had to go, so I thought to get you here....”

 

A minute for a thorough check of the area and a wave-off of the security team sprinting in their direction and Cass relaxed, forcefully suppressing visions of phaser fire, explosions, and a ship that had just crossed time meeting its maker.

 

“If you ever find the time in your busy schedule to relax I have a tiny cabin in Canada,” Morrison continued, handing Cass an isolinear chip. “This will get you in whether I'm there or not. I will be there for a few months at the very least.”

 

Cass eyed the isolinear chip, then turned it over a few times. She took a deep breath and forced an exhale as she fought back the urge to deck her superior officer. As a principle operative with high-level security clearance, Morrison’s message had led Cass to believe the worst. She’d just come off a high stress mission with no time to decompress; her mind raced.

 

“I admire your dedication to your work, it embodies you clearly, but don't forget to smell the roses you defend,” added Morrison.

 

“Canada,” she sighed, still staring at the chip, her tight lips slowly relaxing into a reluctant grin. “Always wanted to go up there. Might take you up on that, sir. Might even help me calm down from your call.”

 

“Is there anything I can do to calm you down, if calm is what you’d like?” Morrison asked, seeing asking her to meet him in this fashion may not have been a good move.

 

Blowing out a breath, Cass secured her phaser and looked up. “How about coffee? Settle in before after action review board with the temporal jocks? Sure hate to go in there with my blood boiling ; might give them some ideas.” By now her grin approached a smirk. She pocketed the chip.

 

The trip to the mess hall was a series of nods and footfalls. LIttle else. Perhaps the tension would subside the more they walked. Morrison enjoyed silence for the most part until his mind started second guessing. A large crowd poured out of the lift they were to take. After some polite greetings they entered the lift.

 

“Mess hall.” Morrison commanded, breaking the silence. “Are you hungry?”

 

“Could use a bite, sir.”

 

“A nibble it is,” he expressed as he pass the threshold into the mess hall. The hour was between lunch and dinner. Most of the crew’s internal time remained quite a ways off. To Morrison it felt like late morning. None of the humidity of Florida he noted. Actually he missed it. A table in a quiet corner lay directly in their path. A wave of his hand showed his intention. “Shall we?”

 

“Looks good to me,” she said, slipping into a chair after a quick nod toward the next table.

 

Morrison sat with his back to the starfield. He studied Cassie for a moment to gauge her level of angst. After a moment he could not tell. “So, sorry about the call earlier. Do you get wound up regarding things like that often?” The question could have been crass, but he wanted to know.

 

Cass regarded him a minute before responding. Her thoughts ranged from her first encounter with counterterrorism to her last deployment - not exactly something she wanted to remember. She kept her tone easy, knowing that in the commander’s line of work he probably didn’t encounter anything close to what she had. She hoped he never did.

 

“Yes, sir, I do,” she said with a note of finality, then added, “I take the lives I’m sworn to protect seriously. That’s why I’m here.”

 

Morrison motions to a server. “Time for yourself?”

 

“Only when the job is done, sir. Then I take plenty. Try to get back to what you’d call normal. Some missions take a few days; some take a few weeks or more...” she shrugged, “...but it comes with the territory.”

 

The server arrived and spoke. “What will you two have?”

 

“Coffee, black,” said Cass.

 

“Coffee, black, Irish Creme, not synthetic, if you have it.”

 

Cassie’s lowered head barely hid a grin when the server left. “Fight fire with fire, Commander? My mouth gets a little too loose for command ‘less I’m on the wagon.” A chuckle escaped.

 

Morrison grinned and nodded. “Oh, sounds like a weakness.”

 

Cass gave an acquiescing nod and leaned back as the server returned with their drinks, impressed at the pint bottle of Irish Creme he placed in front of her companion. The coffee’s heady steam reminded her that she’d not had a decent brew since the beginning of the mission. Wrapping her hands around the cup, she inhaled deeply before taking her first sip.

 

“You sure you don’t want a little of this in there,” he joked, indicating the cup in her hands.

 

“No thank you, Sir,” she shook her head, still grinning. “Board has radar; they’re sure to know I’ve been nipping. You go ahead, though. I imagine you can handle it better than I can.” Her eyes glanced around the room as they spoke; her expression remained lighthearted. One finger pointed to a table in the corner. “Check them out when you get a chance,” she whispered through a casual laugh, “they have the look and actions of shirts; wouldn’t be surprised if they already have you on their radar.”

 

Morrison shifted his eyes for a moment. “Really? Do you always watch people like this?” He goes to turn, but stops and looks back at her.

 

“Not now, sir. In a minute; look natural. And yes. Yes, I do. Learn a lot about people by just watching. You, for instance. I have the feeling you’d rather be in Canada right now than on this bucket waiting for review.”

 

“Well, that should be obvious, but that’s not all I’d rather be doing,” he answered with a simple smile.

 

Cass watched him, cup in hand, waiting.

 

“We have about fifteen seconds.”

 

The “Damn,” escaped before she could stop it as she checked the chrono, then frowned.

 

“No, no, those people. I still don’t know what you are seeing. Either I’m not as keen or I’m just old.”

 

She shrugged. “Not really looking for anything. Just observing. They don’t blend with the crew, no one talks when they pass by, some of the crew give them a strange glance and some just ignore them altogether. And their uniforms are new. The Colonel on the far side is almost squirming in his, like he’s never worn one before. Or maybe it’s the wrong size.” She laughed. “I’ll make a spook out of you yet, sir.”

 

“Hold on,” he said to her while raising his hand. The waiter came over after a moment. “Those two men in the corner there, another round for the both of them, courtesy of Morrison.” The waiter nodded and understood. He left to parts unknown.

 

“There. Not sure what that will accomplish. Not like we are being chased by Klingons. So, back to why I called you here. I’ll be blunt. I like you. I enjoyed your calm under what some may call extreme pressure and confusion. That said I think you could use some decompression time. I can’t order that and would not if I did have that power. Hence I gave you access to my cabin, which if you choose to visit will be well guarded, by you.” Morrison smiled then sighed in relief, then took a drink of his Irish coffee. Needed more Irish, less coffee.

 

The young Marine Captain regarded him a minute, then studied her coffee before replying. “I appreciate the offer,” she said quietly, “but I’ll have to think about it. Can’t exactly say why, but I will say it’s not personal. It’s... complicated.”