Part of Montana Station: Episode 3 – Big Sky Sunrise and Montana Station: Montana Squadron Season 2

BSS 006 – Luck of the Draw

Montana Station
8.21.2402
0 likes 13 views

“He’s been advised of his rights, searched, and secured.” Commander Thasaz stood outside the secure room on the far end of the main hospital unit. She handed the PADD to Captain Leopold Halsey, who let out a slow sigh.

He asked, “I understand he’s one of the three you had to detain forcibly?” Two Romulans and a human had been in the group escorted under heavy guard to where they lay. The human was under care by the Burn Trauma Unit, while the Romulans had sustained injuries in the struggle with security. It was just after two a.m., and the urgent call from Thasaz had been his wake-up call.

The Romulan Director of Security didn’t stare at him like most Romulans would. She regarded him with something between amusement and tolerance. He had become used to translating the many faces of Commander Thasaz into a non-offensive feeling that he could accept. She replied, “Given that they were all in the final process of crafting homemade explosives, yes. Force was a required element. I preferred my way versus calling you for a mass casualty event.” Her voice never rose above her standard tone, and the cadence remained even. To Leopold, she sometimes resembled more of a Vulcan than a Romulan in how she handled her emotions.

He scrolled through the PADD, eyebrows raising as he neared the end. “You weren’t kidding. These scenarios would have made it a bad day on Montana Station. The human – a Mr. Ronald Austin – you think he tried to kill himself using the materials?”

Another non-plussed look lazily drifted across her sharp features. “He didn’t activate the accelerant for giggles, Doc. I’ve known my share of masochists. He isn’t one of them. The other two – they’re true believers. They get back into the universe, they’ll keep trying to kill Hasara and his people.”

Halsey chuckled. There was the Thasaz he knew and sometimes loved. “I’m sure you’ll see that justice prevails.”

Thasaz growled, “Come supernova or warp core breach – I’m not letting them play on my station again.”

 

 

Gracie Lothan gingerly stepped onto the fighter deck. She pushed a grav-cart overflowing with parts, requisitions, and assorted pieces. Her rotation with station engineering had started a few weeks ago. She had been itching to get down to this area, having tried every valid excuse she knew. All had failed. Then the assignment had come through first thing this morning, and she’d been bouncing around her quarters, then to her duty station, and now to the hallowed flight deck.

“Can I help you?” She jumped at the sudden voice a few feet from her. It was a rough, cragged voice, and it felt like fingers were being dragged across a rough surface for maximum annoyance. With a dry cough, the man chuckled, seemingly amused at having scared a young girl.

“You…I…I’m Gracie Lothan, and I’m in my engineering rotation. I’m supposed to deliver this to a,” she glanced at the PADD, scrolling to find the name. “Commander Wilder, Flight Command Officer.”

Wilder gave what she felt was an indifferent nod. He answered with a gruff, “That’s me. You found the right place. You can store it against that wall. I’m expecting my new wing commander. He’s half an hour late already.”

She noted the last sentence seemed to end with a near snarl. The rumors she had heard about him were coming true. And yet, she still couldn’t help but ask the next words, “I can assist with it until he makes it in, Commander Wilder.” He stared at her at what she felt was long and hard – an intensity she’d felt from few adults until now. There was a rare intensity in his eyes that Gracie wasn’t sure what to make of. She worried that she’d offended the old man somehow and that he would send her scrambling back to engineering with a dismissive snort.

Instead, he asked, “I suppose this engineering rotation has you working with equipment cataloging, inventory, and installation.” His voice hadn’t softened. If anything, it had only tightened in intensity.

“Yes, sir,” was all she could manage.

“Then you’re my wingma…woman until the idiot shows up. Get the cart and follow me. Lots of work to do.”

She scrambled and grabbed the cart, her smile wide.