Rush Job 2
Posted on Sun Jan 25, 2026 @ 2:07am by Commodore T'mpest Michaels & Lieutenant Commander Curtis Thibideaux
1,486 words; about a 7 minute read
Mission:
Things Past
Location: Transient Civilian Housing, Level yellow.
Timeline: Twenty minutes after the post Rush Job
Harriet came awake with a start as her comm’s went off. She worked very hard to get her eyes open and when she finally DID, she was met by mop of unruly blonde hair resting on what was apparently her bare chest.
As the comm kept being annoying, her brain tried to process events.
She was on leave.
She was fairly sure about that.
Memories of drinking along DS5’s street of bars and down time amusement district were sketchy, though she vaguely remembered letting a Gunnery Sergeant pick her up. Opening one eye, she decided that must be who’s hair and heavy-ass head was making it hard for her to breath. She gave an experimental push and when said push didn’t result in any protests, she pushed harder and levered the man off her chest using her arms until she could get a knee tucked in.
It only sort of looked like she was kicking the marine off her as he tumbled off the bed and onto the floor…or was it a deck. The marines used odd terms and a corner of her mind decided that if it was her quarters, she could call it whatever the drahk she liked.
The comm continued to squeal, maintaining its annoying level and another moment saw her stagger to her feet over to where her clothing lay. The scattering of said clothing over the nicely furnished, quarters she’s been upgraded to through the good will of the people of Betazoid took her a moment to track down. Apparently the gunnery sergeant, who still dozed on had been in a hurry, if the stress lines at the seams of her top was any indication.
“Jarheads,” she muttered as she finally found her comm and tapped it. “Go for Hastings,” she said, just now becoming aware of a horrible taste in her mouth.
“Hasty,” a familar-ish voice said through the badge. “This is Thibideaux. Valiant has been recalled. I don’t have time for the finer points. Get your crew un-scattered and back to the yard to help button her up. Put on your clothes like a big girl. This is real and that Marine likely won’t wake up for a few hours.”
She could hear the amusement in his tone and she swore..
The thraggling clot was laughing at her.
And he knew what she’d been doing...
She took half a step around the edge of the bed to see the gunnery sergeant sleeping what apparently was the sleep of the just as she eyed her latest bad choice critically.
Her mind was moving, if sluggishly and she sighed bitterly. So much for shore leave. “Aye aye, Commander. Post haste.”
“Thanks, Hasty,” Curtis said signing off. “Officially, I sent the recall notice to the crew but we both know you’re probably going to have to get a party together and go pry them out of their holes. We have…” Curtis paused as he was making his way toward Command and Control, adjusting his uniform as he went, “About twenty hours but as soon as that hull is buttoned, you’re off. Valiant has to get to Earth. I’ll brief you aboard.”
“Earth,” Harriet asked, “Why the clot is Valiant needed in Sol system?”
Then she realized she was talking to a dead comm unit as the Commander had hung up on her.
“Bastard,” she muttered as her brain started wading out of the swamp. She eyed the gunnery sergeant again and said, “Computer. Direct priority communication to all crew members of the USS Valiant aboard or near Deep Space 5.” When the computer chirped its readiness, she said, “This is Chief Hastings. Get your asses back to Valiant. Now. If I have to come drag you back, I’ll be doing it by the ears and I only need to get you there with one intact.”
She took stock of her situation then moved over to the marine, giving him a loving kick to the posterior. “Off and on, Marine. I want just a little more shore leave…
Station Ops.
Curtis walked rapidly into station Ops, eyes automatically checking on the station’s ready status as he made his way through the long corridor that led to the Commodore’s office. He caught the eye of the duty receptionist without breaking stride and said, “I need to see her. She’s in, I already checked. This is not to go into her schedule.”
The yeoman seemed to hesitate, then nodded and cycled the hatch into T’mpest's office.
Walking in, Curtis paused and tried to ignore his burnt tongue…clot that coffee had been hot this morning. Thraggling otters.
“Sorry to un-officially interrupt you, Commodore. But something has come up that you need to be aware of before I call Billie Jo and she calls to yell back…”
T'mpest was standing in front of a viewport, mentally adjusting her day's schedule to accommodate two urgent appointments. She turned when her door opened. "Thank you and what is it?"
Stepping inside the door and twitching the controls to cycle shut he said, "USS Valiant is supposed to be here for a hull off refit...but has been recalled. The Yard will need to halt all other projects to put her back together and get her off station within about twenty three hours." Even as he said the words, Curtis winced slightly. For wanting to keep the ship's activities quiet, this wasn't going to do much.
"Twenty-three hours? Why the rush?" She raised a hand before he could answer. "May I remind you that I do have the clearance for such a request." She already had some information she wasn't sure he was aware of as it had been sent to her by the Valiant's assistant chief intelligence officer earlier.
Curtis hedged. They were wandering into need to know areas and the more that knew. Still, this had to be a last mission run for Valiant to be requested specifically like this. "You absolutely do have clearance, Commodore. The best I can determine, Valiant has been tasked for a mission in the dark. Really dark. The person that brought this to me might work for Federation Intel. Not Fleet Intel...though that feels a bit off too. Maybe higher up in the food chain."
He remembered what Ainsley had said in passing. "In writing this up, I'm not sure how we cover for them, but I think I'll need to get creative." He met T’mpest’s eyes and shook his head, a wry smile touching his mouth. "The operative referenced VOTP...Verbal Order of The President. And I doubt she was making it up."
T'mpest let out a long, slow breath. "Yes. That does make sense." And probably something she didn't want to know right now--especially after the glitter problem. She paused for a moment to consider options. "What if Billie Jo runs a surprise drill to see how quickly her team can make a ship operational--just in case they ever have to deal with such an urgent request. They would need to report back any problems, but it should be unexceptionable."
"That's fine," Curtis said. "I'll file something through Strategic Operations that excuses their deployment based on that. Emergency preparedness and shake down...Valiant is a problem child for the Fleet so it likely won't be noticed. We might even get approval from the Admiralty for messing with them. I'll get to work writing an SOP for all that and we'll cycle it on a five year basis, maybe."
T'mpest nodded. "I can also pull a few strings, if needed. But I do believe the Valiant has plenty of strings of its own. I will inform Billie Joe of the change in orders and leave the rest to you. Please let me know immediately if there is anything else you need." With something like this, she knew time would be of the essence.
"Aye aye, ma'am. A quiet word to Billie Jo should be enough. I'm heading to the yard now and will see to it. I'll report back once the Val is warped out of the yards and out of our hair." Inhaling, running through a mental check list, updating a few tic marks on his wrist interface Curtis said, "By your leave, I'll get to it ma'am?
T'mpest dismissed him with a wave of her hand. "Good luck. Billy Jo will be ready for you when you get there."
As soon as he was gone, she turned to the plush pig on her desk. "Contact Commander Rhodes."
The pig wiggled its snout. "The channel is open."
T'mpest sat in her chair with a sigh. "Billie Jo, this is T'mpest. We have a matter of some delicacy..."
END
LCDR Curtis Thibideaux
Strategic Operations Officer
Deep Space 5
Commodore T'mpest Michaels
Commander
Deep Space 5
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