Fleet Admiral Dreams, Beginning
Posted on Mon 17th Aug, 2020 @ 6:18pm by Kendra Lincoln & Lieutenant Commander Lanis Dhuro MD & Carlo Rienzi
1,005 words; about a 5 minute read
Mission:
Resolution
Location: Dhuro Lanis' quarters
Timeline: MD-13, 2300 hours
In his quarters, Dhuro Lanis slept peacefully, the PADD he'd been reading from laid on his nightstand, next to an empty ceramic teacup whose tea dregs were slowly evaporating. Beneath his closed eyelids, his eyes moved. Whatever dream he was having, it appeared to be a pleasant one.
"So how did you get to be a Fleet Admiral, Kendra?" Dhuro Lanis asked the young woman who sat across the table from him in Pub 10-42. Really, he needed to stop taking younger women to dinner; such cradle robbing at his age was a disgrace.
10-42 was busy this evening, but Carlo had seated them at the table Lanis had occupied the night he'd drunk the entire bottle of Kanar Noir by himself--which meant the table was tucked away into a quiet corner, and they weren't often disturbed unless one of them signaled for a waitress. He sipped from a glass of Bajoran spring wine and smiled at the taste. Delicious.
"Quite by accident, I suspect," the admiral replied, sipping from her own glass - spring water in her case. Lincoln had learned early in her career not to drink with men she didn't know well. "It wasn't my goal when I started with Security in Starfleet, but," she shrugged, staring into her glass, "you never know where you're going to go in this business, do you?
"Right place, right time, rescue the right person ... debts are owed, favors are called in ... eventually you wind up at the top, if you're lucky," she mused, then glanced at him. "Not that I didn't work for it, too, because I did. How about you? Did a particular surgical procedure go well, or was your talent recognized early enough to start you on the path?" Kendra asked.
"I've been trying to work that out, myself," Lanis said. "Starfleet certainly didn't recognize my talent from a young age. I never expected to make Commander, much less Fleet Admiral. I was happy as Chief of Surgery here. And then they started promoting me. I haven't the foggiest idea why. But hey, it got me to heading the Hromi Cluster Research Institute, which was nice."
Lincoln nodded, "So you're happy to be able to use the office to slide into something you enjoy?" she asked. She wondered if she were any different. Hadn't she used her influence in a quid pro quo way to rise to the top of her field? "I'm not objecting at all, if that's the case. I think people should be able to work at what they most enjoy, though it still seems to be a privilege to do so, even in our modern era. Research into what?" she asked, looking around for someone to bring a menu. Hadn't Admiral Dhuro invited her to dinner?
"Lanis! Where the hell have you been? Ever since you got that spiffy new uniform, you've been scarce around here--but I have to say, your dinner companionship is definitely looking up!" A tall, lanky, Italian man with curly hair and mustache came to their table and set menus and napkin-rolled silverware before the two of them. "Good evening, Ma'am. I almost didn't see you two back here. Can I refresh your drinks?"
"Please do, Carlo," Lanis said and slid his wineglass toward the man. "I had a glass of springwine. Anything here's good," Lanis said to Kendra, "though I'm not a fan of the calamari fritti."
"That's okay; neither am I," Carlo told him. "But, you know, some folks insist."
Lincoln shuddered delicately, "That makes three of us. I think, unless Lanis would like the same, I'll have a personal size pizza, say pepperoni and pineapple, lots of cheese? And yes, more water would be wonderful."
"Personal pizza with ground beef and pineapple for me, please," Lanis said.
"All right." Carlo repeated their order. "How about I bring a pitcher of iced water out for the table when I refresh your drinks?"
"He always pushes the water," Lanis said in an undertone to Kendra. "Fine by me," he told Carlo.
"I never want anyone who leaves my bar to wake up in the morning hungover," Carlo told Kendra. "Did that a few times in my misspent youth. It wasn't fun at all. I'll be right back with your drinks."
The woman watched him with a puzzled look on her face. "Why doesn't he just serve synth drinks. There's no hangover involved. I know some people say they can tell the difference, but my palate isn't that refined."
"Carlo's what the Terrans call 'old school,'" Lanis said. "He's actually happy to serve synthehol, but his real specialty is in mixing genuine alcoholic drinks. He is one of those people who can taste the difference. Don't get him started."
"Duly noted," Kendra smiled. "Back to my question before the interruption. What are you, or were you, researching at the Institute? It must have been something of great interest to get you all the way to admiral!"
"I was studying a mystery," Lanis said. "I was researching an exo-species called the Etaween Sherridlu. It translates to The Frequency of Twelve. All that we know of them comes from an autopsy report and a Starfleet officer who says he encountered them." Lanis shrugged. "They called me in because of the autopsy report."
"So this was a new species? Carbon based?" Kendra asked, intrigued. "It's been so long, I suppose most of us consider we've met all the advanced species in near-space, at least. Were they advanced?"
"At least advanced enough to have starships, according to the Starfleet officer. Unfortunately, he sounded as if he was half out of his head."
"Well, don't keep me in suspense, Lanis! What did you discover? Is there a new species out there or not?" Lincoln demanded, only half teasing.
"It's out there, but apparently it's in some other dimension, the way the Q Continuum is. Don't ask me; I don't do interdimensional physics. Someone's planning a mission to find them."
More to come ....
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