Memorials and Birth

[will_marx 0]

Your presence is requested and required for the memorial services of Hayden Dacotah, Commander, Starfleet, and executive officer, USS Arcadia, NCC-1742-E. Services will be held in Shuttlebay One, with reception to follow in Ten Forward. Formal dress required.

 

William T. Moose, Captain, Starfleet

Commander, USS Arcadia NCC-1742-E

 

 

Marx looked at the missive sitting on his desk. Moose had sent out the notifications on paper, something the young lieutenant hadn't seen since his father died. Even in the Academy, the Admiral would write his son on paper. "So, the Captain is declaring her dead. I know in my heart that she isn't," he muttered. "Sometimes I wonder if there's an actual curse on my family. Crystine, Chris, Dad, and now Hayden; all lost. Only Ginny and Hunter are still around."

 

"Will," Ranko said, "you're getting morbid. Your dad was retired when he had his heart attack. And I remember him saying that he more than exceeded his wish of dying on his hundred and fourth birthday and that Lil still looked like she could be his great granddaughter. And Chris died on some secret mission, and he knew the risks.

 

"And you know as well as I that Hayden is still alive. And Shampoo knows it too. So quit feeling sorry for yourself, and get dressed. Or do I have to beat you again?"

 

Marx nodded. His wife was, as usual for either one, correct on this issue. Although playing chicken with the Arcadia and a clocked Talon made for some fun. Especially with Lt. Garnoopy yelling at him to change course. The way t'Rex had treated them was so inconsistent, it was to be considered obnoxious, and it felt good that he had Moose's permission to almost ram the Romulan starship.

 

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The ceremony was a solemn affair, with the Marines breaking out the antique M-14 rifles and blanks. After Moose said a few words, the seven man honor guard, under the command of CSM Jackson fired off three volleys out the open shuttle bay. Even though he'd been through three military funerals for family before, the volleys still brought a tear to his eye. The only thing that was appreciated by her stepbrother was the fact that Moose didn't have a coffin for Hayden, so there was no flag presentation either.

 

Marx wasn't the only one sniffling at the ceremony. Most of the crew was. Hayden had been a powerful figure on the ship, both as Chief Medical Officer and then Executive Officer. She'd treated, at one point or another, most of the crew from the Arcadia-D. Both Ranko and Shampoo, dressed in formal kimonos, freely wept for their sister-in-law, if for no reason other than her being a prisoner without being able to contact her family.

 

 

As the trio was making their way to the reception, Shampoo gave a loud gasp. "Airen, I think my water broke."

 

"A month early?" The lavender-tressed Amazon nodded, even as a contraction swept through her. "Computer, new destination. Sickbay, medical emergency."

 

The lift smoothly changed directions, and bypassed other nodes to get to Sickbay as quickly as possible. Marx and Ranko led the Amazon mom-to-be into the delivery suite. "No, husband," Ranko said. "This is not your job. You just wait out here." When their husband began to protest, the redheaded martial artist held up her hand. "While you've been playing your soldier games, darling, Xian Pu and I have been attending her Lamaze classes."

 

They both smiled at him. "Relax, airen," Shampoo said. "We?ll be fine."

 

As he sat in the waiting room, Marx could hear Shampoo cursing him out in Mandarin, Japanese, English, and a few other choice languages she'd picked up on. He stuck his head into the delivery room. "Relax, darling."

 

"Relax," she cried. "You did this to me!" And then she began to publicly, and loudly, proclaim her husband's ancestry as very questionable. Marx blushed, and, as a stainless steel basin was flung his way, pulled his head out of the delivery room.

 

As the delivery went on through the night, Marx was busy wearing a hole in the carpet with his pacing. Until, he heard a slap, followed by crying. The ship's OB/GYN, Dr. Westheimer, came out. As short as Kuh Lon (about three foot nothing) and just as wrinkled, she called for him to come into the suite. Lying on the bed, her lavender hair sweaty and matted down, was Shampoo. And to Marx she looked as lovely as when he married her.

 

Ranko walked over to their husband and hugged him. "Congratulations Dad. It's a girl." She whispered into his ear: "Now when is it my turn?" Marx blushed bright red, even as they walked over to the Amazon.

 

Who was busy cradling their child. "Congratulations, Airen. You're a dad."

 

"So, what should we call our daughter?"

 

"I was thinking of honoring her aunt, whether or not she's dead, and call her Hayden."

 

"I like that name."