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     Cmdr. J. Darek Smith |
"It's... too bad." The words lingered in the air as the turbolift, empty save for the man who had breathed the words heavily, sped down to Deck 9 and the main bridge. The three-deck trip from Sickbay took only seconds, but it felt like an eternity. ========= "Oh, excuse me. I was look for Maiko. I didn't mean to bother you, Mr. D'Rall." Salem D'Rall smiled weakly up from his bed. The man seemed to exude a charm that Smith recognized at once as the source of Lt. Maiko D'Rall's own winning personality. "Please, stay. You must be Commander Smith." Darek Smith nodded politely, his face carefully neutral. "Maiko's mentioned you a time or two while I've been recovering, Commander. She thinks very highly of you. Of you and all of your companions, in fact. That says a lot to me, Commander." Smith shook his head and smiled tightly. "It's Darek, sir. And - well, I don't know what to say. Your daughter is an amazing pilot and a wonderful person." Smith glanced away wistfully. "I've mentioned it to her once or twice, but she reminds me a lot of my own daughter back home. Both are so full of love and life." Salem nodded, his grin broadening. "We tried to raise her right, Darek. It's all any parent can do." "Yes. And thanks to that upbringing, she managed to save both our lives. I've already recommended her for a commendation for both her piloting yesterday and her bravery." A chuckle rose up from the occupant of the triage room's small bed. "She likes recognition. Even if she acts like she doesn't, it pleases her that people know when she's done a good job. And it pleases me even more. A shame her mother isn't around to see her little girl all grown up." A grim acknowledgement that not all had been victory and joy in the defense of Churchill Downs and Everon, Salem D'Rall's statement changed Smith's mood from reserved enjoyment of the moment to a painful acceptance that so much had been lost in the Hegemony War. (No one wanted to call in the Pfhor War. It seemed to lessen the impact and diminish the memory of those lost somehow.) "Well, I'll track her down myself. It's good to see you're doing better, Mr. D'Rall." Salem smirked. "If I have to call you Darek, then it's only fair that you call me Salem." Smith chuckled politely. "Okay, then. Salem it is." "Take care, Darek. Good journey to you and your comrades." "Good journey to you, Salem." ========= The day wore on. The bridge seemed smaller than usual. Smith couldn't get the images out of his head of the dead and dying. He had seen so much death, so much destruction in his time. Yet he had lost many friends in this war. He had seen families and friends torn assunder. Somehow, this war had been the worst he had seen. Perhaps it was time to end his fight. Perhaps he could end the fighting and take up the rebuilding. He had heard that many members of the fleet were considering doing so. Still, there were many worlds left to liberate from the Hunters and Hounds left behind when the Pfhor had vanished. Perhaps when that was done, he could retire in peace. Maybe take up a nice teaching position at the Reor'san Starfleet Academy. The thoughts were still bouncing around in his head as he directed repairs on the bridge and in the CIC when the tactical console emmitted a short series of bleeps. "Commander Smith," Marcy said with a curious tone, "there's a message coming in from Panache. Admiral Wallace." Smith frowned. Panache had just returned from Tarndare with a fleet of Wraiths and the starship Destiny. The two Intrepid-class vessels were pretty beaten up, but had come through that system's liberation fairly well. Smith assumed that Wallace was looking for either Captain Daren or Admiral Kor. "You can route his transmission through to Captain Daren's quarters or to Admiral Kor down on the plaent." Without even a second thought, Smith went back to discussing Coronado's repair schedule with Lt. Commanders Oswald and Farley. "Um, actually, sir, it seems he wants to speak with you." Smith paused and glanced over at Marcy questioningly, his eyebrows raised in curiosity. "For me? Did he say what about?" "No, Commander. Only that he'd like a private chat with you." "Very well, route it to the conference room. I'll take it there." Confused and confounded, Smith made his way to the conference room just off of the main bridge. He ordered a hot mug of cocoa and turned back to the main screen set in the far wall. The hum of the replicator must have been enough to hide the whirring of the transporter beam. For as he turned, Smith was mildly surprised - though not entirely off his guard - when he saw Rear Admiral Dev Wallace lounging in the chair at the head of the table. "Admiral. Well, I wasn't exactly expecting you to beam on over. Care for anything to drink, sir." Wallace just shook his head and looked up at Smith with a dark grin. "Brian Aldur told me I should speak with you. Said you were one of the best analysts to serve under him. Says a lot, I guess. Especially since I've served under him a time or three." Nodding, Smith made his way around the table so as to be closer to the Admiral. "Admiral Aldur's a good man. I enjoyed serving under him in my day. But what's that have to do with this, sir." Wallace's face broke into a broad, mischevious grin as he leaned forward, his finger steepled on the table. "Ever think about getting back into the intelligence business, Commander?" ========== Christian D. Clem '01, aka "Aggie" Cmdr. J. Darek "BMF" Smith, Executive Officer U.S.S. Coronado NCC-97901 Inspirational Music: The HALO Soundtrack (Thanks, Chris and Ryan. ;)) |