Previous Next

Coming Ashore

Posted on Fri Jun 30th, 2017 @ 9:35am by Major Jesse Temple

Mission: Trouble on the frontier
Location: Shuttle Bay 01

It was early morning, or late at night, depending on your proximity to a normal Earth-like schedule, when Jesse Temple found himself in a corner bar off the Utopia Planitia Shipyards. A mechanic's dive, the little watering hole was about as cheerful as a funeral, but the drinks were the right price and the company was unintrusive.

For Jesse, it suited his needs plenty. Having just come off another supply run with the Merchant services, the young marine captain was finding himself without much purpose. And not just within this dark morning/evening drinking situation, but in his life and career. Years dedicated to the Marine Corp, to being a good Federation man, but now he was making cargo drops to far-off colonies like a glorified delivery person. Sure the job had it's share of close calls with pirates and bandits but it was so far beneath where Jesse had hoped to be at this stage of his life.

As much as he was enjoying his cheap whiskey with the taste and potency of plasma fuel, it wasn't where he wanted to be.

A man sat down in the stool next to him and gave Jesse a firm pat on the arm.

"What are you drinking there, soldier?" Came an older man's voice.

"Alone." Jesse remarked without looking. "And I ain't a soldier."

"Oh good," The man sighed, "We're hitting all the clichés tonight then."

Jesse sighed, "What do you..." he turrned and saw the familiar face of Admiral Thurston, immediately standing to attention. "I'm sorry, sir, I didn't see you, sir."

Thurston had been a firm friend to Jesse in his younger years, having been CO of Camp Kovar, Jesse's first posting after graduating. He hadn't seen nor heard much from the old War Dog recently, as Jesse's career had stalled in the Merchant services and he fell out of contact with his Marine friends.

"At ease," Thurston laughed, "Though your alterness has waned, captain."

"Aye," Jesse remarked as he sat back down. "What did you say about clichés?"

Thurston shrugged, "A dive bar, alone, drowning your sorrows. What would your grandfather say?"

The mention of his beloved grandfather stung Jesse hard. It had been months since they had buried the senior Temple, patriarch of the family, and father-figure to Jesse. Though the loss had hit everyone hard, the young Marine had arguably been hit hardest, as it was yet another parent gone from his life.

"Aye," Jesse replied dejectedly. "But what else can I do, sir? I'm stuck deliverin' goods for gawd's sake."

"You want back into the Marines, son, all you had to do was come ashore. We don't forget our own. Especially not grunts like you with a cunning mind and a sharp eye."

Jesse managed a small smile, "I appreciate that, sir. I guess it all come down on me at once. Losing granddad, being passed for promotion in Starfleet, getting stuck with the merchants. I got so lost."

"Well, consider yourself found. But, I warn you, son. You'll need your wits about you again," Thurston replied, seriously, "You'll have a job to do, your own department to run, a region to help protect. The brass believe you can do it, and so do I, all we need is for you to believe too."

Temple nodded, "I will, sir. So do you have an assignment in mind, sir?"

Thurston reached into his pocket and flipped a PADD over to Jesse. The specs showed a rotating Cardassian Nor-class space station in the northern region of Federation territory.

"Looks interesting," Jesse remarked. "What's her name?"

"Deep Space Twelve." Thurston replied, throwing back his drink. "Your next assignment."

A smile dawned across the Marine's face, "I don't know how to thank you, sir,"

"You can start by drinking up," the Admiral smirked, as he stood, "Because your shuttle leaves in ten minutes."



Previous Next