LCDR Timmons had a smile from ear to ear. “I’m glad to meet you, Angie. Kelly has told me a lot about you. I have to say that his description of you doesn’t do you justice.”
“Why, thank you, sir. I must say that I’m quite impressed with your ship. I wouldn’t trade my F-53 for it, but I like it.”
“Sir, I didn’t give Angie the full tour. I’ve been informed that I am responsible for some rounds of drinks and I need to change into something more fitting for the club. You’re invited to come and partake, if you wish. Could you give Angie the grand tour while I change?”
“I’d be happy to, on both counts. Come on Angie, let me show you my ship.”
When Kelly came back out, the captain and Angie were waiting for him on the bridge.
“Kelly, let me see your quarters. I want to see how Fleet lives.”
Kelly opened the door to his stateroom and Angie walked in. He left the door open as he followed her.
“This is nice. What’s in here? Oh, you have your own head with shower. Can I move in here with you? This is much nicer than I would have expected on a ship of this size. Are there just you two officers?”
“Just the captain and I and six very good chiefs.”
“That’s amazing. The smallest division on the Bolivar is bigger than your whole crew. I’m envious.”
Angie moved over and sat on the bunk. “Kelly, I’m so glad things worked out for you. I felt just terrible when that horrid woman shipped you out. I miss you. Your replacement as my wing man has been hopeless. I have to constantly remind her to keep her spacing and stay in formation. I think she screwed her way through fighter school. You were fun to fly with. She’s a pain in the butt.”
Kelly laughed. “Come on. Let’s head over to the club before the ship’s rumor mill gets too wound up over us being in here together.”
The two of them departed the ship and headed over to the club. Kelly showed her the base shuttles and how they worked. They got out at the club and Kelly led her into the junior officers’ bar.
Kelly and Angie were loudly greeted as they entered the bar. Kelly was grabbed by both arms and led to the bar to put his credit chit down. Kelly told the barmaid to give two drinks to anyone in a flight suit.
CPT Willis came over. “Kelly, now that you don’t work for me and we’re both the same rank, can I kiss you and give you a hug?”
Kelly, wondering how much she had already had to drink, said, “Sure Janey, why not?”
Janey Willis came at him with a look of mischief. She locked lips with him.
Kelly broke the kiss off and said, “Thanks, Janey. Didn’t you and that major in the 73rd Fighter Squadron have a thing going on?”
“Oh, you mean Fred? That was just a shipboard romance. Once you leave the ship, they’re over. Of course, I do have some time on my hands while we are here on Armstrong.”
Kelly looked her in the eyes, saw the mischievous look replaced by a questioning look, and decided she wasn’t kidding.
“Janey, I’ll have to take a rain check. My dance card is filled for the moment.”
“Oh, too bad. I was looking for someone local to bestow my favors on.”
“If you can wait, my C.O. will be here in a bit and I can introduce you. He’s available.”
“Is he cute?”
“I wouldn’t call him cute, but I think he’s better looking than I am.”
“Ooooh! Where is he? I need to meet this Adonis.”
“When he comes in we’ll come find you.”
Angie walked over. “What was that all about? What did Janey want?”
“Me!”
“Oh, she and Fred did say their goodbyes. I wondered how long it would take for her to get feisty.”
“Obviously, not very long at all.”
Angie broke out laughing. The night went on quite late. Kelly introduced LCDR Timmons to Captain Willis, but not without warning him first. The two of them hit it off right away. They retired to a table in the corner and got to know one another. Kelly didn’t notice when the two of them left the bar together. The barmaid deftly made her way through the boisterous crowd and returned his credit chit to him, which had been used to buy two drinks for each member of the fighting 68th that wanted one, and a few others. Kelly authorized a generous tip for the barmaid for taking care of it all for him.
A group of lieutenants up near the bar were breaking out into some of the raunchier squadron songs. One of the female officers, it was hard to tell her rank as she had stripped out of her flight suit into her skivvies, was dancing on one of the tables. Angie grabbed him by the hand and led him through the throng and out of the bar.
“So, Kelly, would you be so kind as to escort me to the BOQ?”
Kelly told her he’d be honored.
The “Q” was only a short distance from the club. It was a Fleet myth that there was a master base design specification that said the “Q” could be no further than max crawling distance for an ensign away from the club. They didn’t have to crawl, but they did arrive in short order and Kelly walked Angie to her room.
At the door, she turned around to face him. Kelly wondered if he was about to get a handshake instead of a kiss.
“Kelly, when I said I missed you earlier, it’s not just because of having a lousy wing man. You were fun. In a way I’m kind of glad you aren’t my wingman anymore. I could never do this if you were my wingman.” She leaned into him, cradled his head in her arms, and kissed him. It was not a friendly kiss. It was a take your breath away and leave you swaying kiss. Kelly literally rocked back on his heels when she pulled away. He caught his balance on the doorway alcove wall.
“I’ve wanted to do that ever since that first day we met on the Bolivar. I’m glad I finally got the chance.”
“I'm glad you got the chance, too. Now, if my heart will stop palpitating, I’d like to do it again.”
Angie laughed, grabbed him by the collar, and pulled him into her room.
The next morning, Kelly got up early, cleaned up, found his clothes, got dressed, and kissed Angie goodbye. She lifted her head off her pillow for his kiss then dropped back onto it sound asleep.
He took a while longer than usual to find a shuttle. He would find out later that some lieutenants in the 68th had acquired a large number of them and programmed them for racing. The central computer would need a bit more time to reestablish communications with them and reprogram them to their original function.
Kelly got back to the ship before the day deck watch came on. Chief Watson met him on the quarterdeck with a cup of black coffee.
“Must have been quite a party last night, sir.”
“That it was, Chief. I imagine it’s still going on somewhere. You know how folks are after a long deep space patrol.”
“Yes, sir, I’ve been on a few of them myself. Tell me, sir, do you happen to know what happened to the captain?”
“He’s not back?” Kelly started laughing. “You might want to draft up a message to Fleet to requisition a new captain, just in case. I left him in the capable hands of my former flight leader. Chief, he may not survive.”
The chief laughed and walked off, leaving Kelly to retire to his quarters, change into his coveralls, and go get some chow. The captain didn’t make it back to the ship until midmorning. He immediately retired to his cabin and wasn’t seen again until lunchtime. Kelly and the chief kept the crew busy on quiet tasks until he resurfaced.
Kelly and the captain went to the chow hall for lunch. The captain was still a little unsteady on his feet.
“Exec, what was in that horrid concoction they referred to as rocket fuel?”
“Ah yes, rocket fuel, it’s an old squadron tradition. You know that the fighting 68th traces it ancestry to an old earth squadron formed in the mid 20th century. Well, its tradition is to make a punch using alcoholic beverages associated with every major campaign the squadron has been in. There are 79 ingredients as of last count. If we ever find out what the K’Rang drink, there will be 80. Some of the ingredients are damned hard to find. Some of the ingredients are illegal now. I think you get the picture.”