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An Old Friend

Posted on Mon Sep 9th, 2019 @ 9:38pm by Lieutenant JG Aram Tovas

Mission: War and Peacekeeping
Location: Planetside - Butaritari Beach

 

Aram stretched out on his loungechair, casting his eyes out onto the crystal clear water that stretched out as far as the eye code see. He took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, happy to have some time away from the ship. Though the holodecks were usually good enough, there was something about dipping your toes into real sand that instantly put him at ease.

He was on a very secluded part of the beach, far away the usual recreational areas. The owner of the dance establishment had pointed this spot out to him, for a small fee of course. Now, he had most of the area to himself, allowing for reading, sleeping, and whatever else he could get up too.

"So, it's true, you really are out of the game."

Aram pushed his shades down to look at the man standing next to him. He was taller than Aram, standing at 6'2, with a powerful build, deep tan, and blue eyes. His blonde hair was just starting to silver around his temples.

"Slade," Aram said, shaking his head. "Do I even want to know what you're doing here?"

"Is that anyway to treat an old flame?" Slade asked.

Aram rolled his eyes. "You were a one night stand at best."

"Several one night stands if I recall," Slade responded. He plopped down in the sand next to Aram's chair. "So, is it true? Are you really back in uniform?"

"You pride yourself on being an informatiom brooker, among other things, what do your sources tell you?"

"That you should have accepted my offer," Slade said, with a shrug. "You could have had your own ship by now."

Aram was well aware of that fact and he would be lying if he didn't say he was tempted. But, working for a smuggler like Slade didn't hold the same appeal as Starfleet. There were certainly worse smugglers out there, Slade actually had standards. He wouldn't deal in weapons, at least not to facists reigemes, and often delievered medical supplies at cost.

Still, Aram had no desire to be a smuggler. "So, you finally got your fleet of ships."

Slade waved the comment away. "I would hardly call three ships a fleet but the second of the Wild Card class is almost finished."

Aram shook his head. "When last I heard, the Wild Card was still laid up in drydock."

Slade pointed upwards towards the sky. Aram put his glasses back on and looked upwards in the indicated direction. Hanging high in the atmosphere was the unmistakeable outline of an ancient Dadelus class starship. Of course, Aram was aware only the design was ancient, Slade had no doubt tricked it out with the latest gear, both legal and illegal.

"Oh I know what people say about the look," Slade said. "But the sphereical hull actually allows for a great deal of cargo capacity as well as a pleasure deck. The Risian Commerce Authority even put in a bid for some."

"Looks like you finally have everything that you wanted," Aram said. "Congrats."

"I don't have everything I want," Slade said, giving Aram's athletic half naked form a once over.

"That's real cute Slade," Aram muttered. "But..."

"Come for a swim with me," Slade said, standing up and dusting the sand off himself. "What's the worse that could happen."

"Those are famous last words."

OFF:

 

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