Marine Corps Ball - Part 4
Posted on Fri Jan 23, 2026 @ 7:23am by Commodore T'mpest Michaels & Civilian Gertrude Helsing & Lieutenant T'Lul & Lieutenant JG Anson Lee & Lieutenant Carissa Holmes & Captain Brina Tracy-Hall & Sergeant Trent Busby & Charghwl'IH of the House of Soval & Civilian Geral Lasuma & Civilian Beatrice Weatherford & Civilian Henrietta Barton
Edited on on Fri Jan 23, 2026 @ 9:38am
2,438 words; about a 12 minute read
Mission: Chicken Run
[PREVIOUSLY]
Carissa looked at Means and then to Brina and Hall, "Well a pleasure to see you once more." looking from one to the other. "I'll be going to find a table. See you later on?"
[CONTINUED]
Brina gave a nod. "Indeed. we shall."
Charghwl’IH and his mate X'eadell walked into the bays in their Klingon finery. X'eadell leaned towards him, "This will be your first formal function as an Ambassador isn't it?"
"Yes...", Rolling his shoulders under his Ambassadorial 'dress' robes.
"Stop your fidgeting."
"These new clothes...AHHH."
She shook her head with a smirk, "This is going to be a long night."
Seeing the Commodore, "Come let me introduce you to the station's new commanding officer."
As they moved off X'eadell looked to her husband, "It's a shame what happened to Maritza."
"It was, but she must face the battle within as she would any other."
T'mpest stood next to Lasuma, watching people enter the cargo bays. Colonel Means and his Marines had done an impressive job decorating the cargo bays and she was enjoying a few moments of people watching.
She saw the ambassador arrive with another Klingon and gave them a formal bow. "A pleasure to see you, Ambassador Charghwl’IH."
Lasuma nodded to the Klingon when they locked eyes. He had expected a glare at the very least and that worried him even more.
"Commodore Michaels, may I present the Mistress of the House of Soval, my wife and the mother of my children, X'eadell, daughter of Karagh. X'eadell, Commodore T'mpest Michaels the Commander of Deep Space 5 and you already know Mr. Geral Lasuma."
"It is a pleasure to meet you," T'mpest said, bowing to X'eadell. "I understand you were also on the station before the battle."
Glancing to Lasuma, whom she had met before. "I had visited the station before Captain Soran left. But that was well before the hostilities. Too bad though, it would have been nice, it's been some time since I've been able to bloody my katana."
"I have no doubt you would have been victorious," T'mpest replied with a half-smile. "However, I do hope you will not have such an opportunity on the station in the near future." But she knew that, this far from the heart of the Federation, there was always a possibility.
"Yes, well, I already chastised this one for keeping all the glory to himself."
Charg shook his head. "HA! You have other things to see to than worrying about personal glory...at least for a while."
T'mpest raised an eyebrow. "Anything you wish to share?"
Charg and X'ea looked to each other knowingly. Then the ambassador looked back to the station's commander. "The House of Soval is to grow once again."
The commodore gave them both a Vulcan bow. "My congratulations to the two of you, and to the House of Soval. May your child bring honor to your house."
Charg nodded sharply, "And when that day comes...my yours as well."
"I..." She didn't dare look at Lasuma, although she wanted to know what his reaction to Charg's comment was. She could imagine settling down on DS5 with him. Raising a family with him... At the same time, she tried to push the thought to the back of her mind--although she knew it would not stay there. "Thank you."
Henrietta came walking into the cargo bay, upon the arm of a marine. She was dressed in a silver grey dress, smiling up at Sergeant Busby. "Thank you for being my escort Sergeant, I was surprised that you had asked me to be your companion for the ball. My husband would have liked you."
Trent looked at the tea time lady, a warm generous smile. "Well, I couldn't let a lovely lady such as yourself not come to this. I know that your husband was one of us, How could I have let you come by yourself."
Henrietta just beamed up at him.
Beatrice was already at their table and saw Henrietta walk up, arm in arm with a young Marine. With a wide grin, "Robbing the Cradle I see."
Henrietta blushed, sitting down on the chair that Trent had pulled out for her, a true gentlemen, the slid forward.
Trent sat next to her smiling towards Beatrice. "I went to ask her if I could be her escort. I did it out of respect for her. My father served under her husband, Sergeant Major Horatio Barton. My dad was Gunnery Sergeant Max Busby. "
Henrietta reached out and patted Trent's hand. "Thank you."
"When the time comes for dancing, Would the two of you do me the honor of taking turns to dance with me?" Trent looking at both Henrietta and then Beatrice.
Surprised by the offer Beatrice blushed slightly, "When the time comes...Certainly."
Trent just beamed at her agreement. "Thank you ladies, you honor me."
Gertie came up to them at that moment. "A good-looking kid like you choosing to sit with a bunch of old biddies? Nah. I can already tell you've made Henrietta's night."
She took her seat and looked around. "This is going to be fun."
Anson tugged at his jacket. The white of the dress uniform was not his favorite uniform. It was fussy and showed any spec of dirt. But he also didn’t own any formal clothing that wasn’t the uniform. He wasn’t exactly the fancy event type. But Assistant Chief was a fancy enough position he felt obligated to attend.
He’d thought about finding someone to attend the event with, but if T’Lul was also attending, that seemed like an invitation for her to interrogate him about his romantic life again, which… No. And he didn’t know Tessaro well enough yet to know if it would have been okay to offer to escort her in a professional capacity. So here he was alone.
The rearranged cargo bay barely looked like a cargo bay, all decorated and filled with people in all types of finery. He was still learning who everyone on the station was, a task not made easy by its size and the routine turnover of a partially transient population. He did catch sight of P’ril and waved. And then dropped his hand when it was clear her attention was elsewhere. Awkward.
T'Lul caught Anson's wave. Was that directed to her or someone else? P'ril was there but Anson had the Schroedinger's girlfriend problem, so why would he logically wave to her. T'Lul excused herself from her company and walked on over to Anson, giving him the Vulcan greeting, "Live long and prosper, Anson."
"Counselor. Hi." Anson looked around for an escape and found none. He turned back to T'Lul. "How are you enjoying yourself?"
The Counselor cocked her head to the side. "I am Vulcan. Enjoyment is an emotional reaction, which is not something Vulcans seek. However, I understand that to be a pleasantry to commence a conversation. So, I shall return the pleasantry to state that 'I am well' and was here at the ball because it seemed the appropriate thing to do." She paused for a moment and stated, "How are you doing? Have you resolved any of your conundrum yet?"
"Working on it, but no resolution yet." He hadn't done anything beyond thing about it in passing, but she didn't need to know that.
"I see," T'Lul answered, understanding that Anson probably had done nothing but ruminate about it further in his head. He was truly one of the more confused humans that she had met. It did not help that he also had two sets of memories. "May I inquire as to what you have done to try to resolve the situation?"
"Uhhhh, mainly thinking about how to word things. Security has been busy, and that has to take priority." Security was always busy, so the excuse was at least honest.
T'Lul's left eyebrow raised skeptically. "You refuse to do things directly and circumspectly you overthink things so much that you cannot act." The Vulcan audibly clucked her tongue against her teeth. She shook her long hair for a moment and finally concluded, "If it would help, I could contact her for you."
"No!" Anson's eyes were wide with horror. "I mean... That would not be... It would be weird. From her point of view. She has no idea who you are. A stranger contacting her out of the blue might be uncomfortable. For her."
"Then together?" T'Lul offered helpfully. "Then you could say that I was there for support."
Anson's brain made a sound he hadn't known it could make. "Well, that will make it clear we're done, since she'll think you're there because we're dating."
T'Lul blinked. Then she blinked again. The thought had not occurred to her because it was not a logical conclusion. Even so, she could understand the emotion and its illogic. "Is she that insecure of a person to think that a counselor being present with you to assist you would mean that such a person is dating you?" The Vulcan counselor paused before continuing, "If that is the case, regardless of the 'is she' or 'isn't she' my significant other should be easily resolved logically. You should simply end it. After all, it is not logical to jump to such a conclusion and only would lead to more problems for you. Would you like me to expound upon that?"
"She knows me well enough to know I'm not the type to request a counselor to help me break up with someone, and why else would someone else be there?" Anson said. "So, no, no need to 'expound.'"
"Someone could be there to help bridge your relationship or assist you in speaking," T'Lul countered logically. "I believe there is an Earth saying that is apt here: to assume is to make an ass out of you and me. That is correct, isn't it?"
“Must be a regional thing, because where I’m from we say arse. Unless you’re referring to a donkey. And my ears aren’t that big.”
The Vulcan visibly moved to one side to inspect Anson's ears. "They are slightly larger than the average human but they are proportional to your build. You are in no danger of being mistaken for a Ferengi." A corner of T'Lul's lips raised up after having made her tiny joke.
Anson leaned slightly away from the scrutiny. "Thank you. Good to know?"
"You have difficulty recognizing humor, do you not, Anson?" T'Lul asked, her lips returning to an even position.
"I don't usually hear it from Vulcans. And no one's ever thought my ears are funny before." He reached up and rubs at one.
T'Lul shook her head. "Your ears are not funny." The Vulcan sighed. "You are a rather confounding human, even as humans go. Did you know that?"
"I've never had any complaints before," he told her honestly. "Not even from other Vulcans."
"Vulcans do not complain," T'Lul answered simply.
"Maybe not directly." He mimicked Steln, one of the other security officers at Utopia Planitia. "I do not understand the logic of assigning Crewman Johnson to my shift. Please explain."
"Are you implying that a Vulcan would question orders for a reason other than logic?" T'Lul asked Anson. "I would be curious as to your argument, as it implies an emotional reaction, opposed to a logical one."
"No one wanted Johnson on their shift. I suppose Vulcans don't believe in bad luck, but they do seem to believe in statistics, and an oddly high number of things went wrong around that man." No one had ever figured out where his pants had ended up after the transporter incident.
"Statistics are math, so, it was logical," T'Lul answered. "That said, I am curious why nobody investigated the issue with Johnson. I do not believe in 'bad karma.' Poor training...poor reactions...poor recognition.... Those things are readily believable. Problems or successes are all a result of our own actions."
"What's it like being convinced you're right all the time?" Anson asked her. "Not sure there's any training that can explain things like why if a bird was going to poop on someone, or a chair was going to break, it was always Johnson."
T'Lul's eyes narrowed. "My being convinced that I'm right all the time is the equivalent of your unwillingness to hear thoughts other than your own. Again, I believe that there is a logical explanation to these coincidences."
One word caught Anson’s attention. “You believe, huh? Didn’t realize logic was such a matter of faith.”
"Belief is nothing more than accepting something as true. It also can be an expression of opinion. Do you believe that Vulcans do not have opinions?"
"Vulcans definitely have opinions." Under his breath, he added "So many opinions" before returning to a normal volume. "It's just that usually they say things like 'I suspect' or 'I think you will find' or something equally wordy."
"I am a counselor who works in Starfleet and studies emotions, Anson. It cannot be said typical for a Vulcan. I would have thought that would be obvious." She clucked her tongue against her cheek. "I would not have thought that you were so narrow-minded to group a species together. I shall have to revise my understanding of you."
“You’re right. Most Vulcans aren’t counselors. There’s a reason for that.” Anson spun on his heel to go see if he could find a drink, before he said anything truly nasty. He’d probably regret the words he’d already said later, but implying he was some kind of speciest was too much.
"That was intended as an insult," T'Lul answered. "Given your understanding of Vulcans, I am uncertain why you would believe that would affect me. Explain, please."
She was following him. Anson gritted his teeth and turned back to face her. “Maybe I said it for me, not for you. Maybe a counselor who was not a Vulcan would realize that when a human turns their back on you, they are ending the conversation.”
To be continued...
Lieutenant Carissa Holmes
Chief Diplomat
Deep Space 5
Captain Brina
Marine XO
Guest of Deep Space 5
Charghwl’IH of the House of Soval
X'eadell daughter of Karagh
Commodore T'mpest Michaels
Commander
Deep Space 5
Geral Lasuma
Lasuma Enterprises
Henrietta Barton
Tea Lady
Deep Space 5
Sergeant Trent Busby
Marine
Beatrice Weatherford
Tea Lady
Deep Space 5
Gertrude Helsing
Tea Lady
Deep Space 5
Lieutenant JG Anson Lee
Assistant Chief Security Officer
Deep Space 5
Lieutenant T'Lul
Chief Counselor
Deep Space 5
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