Checking In With The Daughter

Posted on Fri Sep 17th, 2010 @ 10:31pm by Captain T'mpest Michaels

806 words; about a 4 minute read

Mission: Structured Shoreleave - Marchwiel
Location: Michael's Quarters
Timeline: Current

ON

T'mpest had been in her quarters long enough to change from her uniform into a pair of comfortable jeans and a long-sleeved blouse when her computer beeped that she had an incoming call.

Mildly surprised, she walked over to her console and entered in her code to receive the message. After a moment the face of her mother filled the screen.

"Tempie, how are you?" her mother greeted cheerfully. " I haven't talked to you since you left the Endeavor. How is that nice Commander Gifford?"

T'mpest disliked the nickname, but had long ago learned to say nothing. Her mother was a force of nature. It was part of her charm. Damiana Michaels was equally comfortable among heads of state, academicians and mercenaries. Her access to information never ceased to amaze T'mpest.

"Hello, mother. How are you?" T'mpest asked, smiling fondly at her mother. "I haven't spoken to John since I left Earth, but I assume he is well." Calls from her mother were few and far between as her mother was paranoid when it came to lines of communications. And she was always busy with one project or another.

"Busier than ever. Your father is working with the Pacificans. It's very... wet. How are you doing, dearest? I hear you've been dealing with some group calling themselves the Queen Anne's Revenge? I'm surprised they didn't choose Blackbeard's Ghost, much more appropriate to my way of thinking, don't you agree?"

"Mother," T'mpest interrupted. "How do you know about the QAR?" She turned in her report to Starfleet Intelligence earlier that day.

"Oh, you know, dear. Admiral Moorehead was quite pleased with the report. He's been concerned about that sector of space for a while now," her mother replied vaguely. Damiana Michaels always had a way of getting information that no one else could -- or should -- have. "I wasn't checking up on you," Damiana assured her. "I helped the Admiral acquire a unique gift for his wife. It's their 50th wedding anniversary next week."

"Mother, that information is supposed to be classified. At least until the investigation is complete."

"Oh, don't worry, dear. I haven't said a thing to anyone -- except you, of course," Damiana assured her. "So, how do you like your new ship? Is Intel everything you hoped it would be? Have you met any nice young men? Any nice older men?"

T'mpest ignored that last comment. "So far I like Intel -- and the Ranger. But that isn't why you called. What's up?"

"Oh, yes, dear," Damiana said, grinning. "I found a book you might like..." She paused, waiting for T'mpest to bite.

"What sort of book?' It was one of T'mpest's weaknesses. She was always looking for old print books.

"Draco's Journeys. It's an ancient book of Torellian legends. I thought you might be interested, dear."

She was. T'mpest was fascinated with ancient legends and tales. "Where did you get it?"

"Bron found it for me." Bron was one of her Ferengi contacts. He found some very unique books. He knew Damiana would pay a decent profit and not ask any questions.

"It's not stolen, is it?" T'mpest asked, a little suspicious. Her mother didn't care where it came from, as long as she wouldn't get arrested.

"Don't worry, dear. It's all quite legal. I told Bron it was for you. He knows how picky you are about the legalities."

T'mpest laughed. That was true enough. She'd made Bron pay a fine of 5 bars of gold-pressed latinum for stealing a book and selling it to her. "Good enough. Are you going to send it here or to Vulcan?"

"Where do you want it?"

"Send it here. I'd like to read it first."

Damiana grinned. "I thought so. It should arrive shortly. I sent it a week ago."

T'mpest laughed. "I don't know why I ask. Thank you, Mother. How are Father and Sared?"

"Both are well. I just saw your brother. He's as busy as you are. He isn't dating anyone, either." Her mother shook her head, sadly. "I do want grandchildren before I get too old to enjoy them." She went on before T'mpest could comment. "Your father is as busy as ever. The Pacificans think he's brilliant -- which he is. He's managed to improve their communications by 25.34%. He'll finish here soon and then we'll travel a bit before his next assignment. I'll let you know where that is." Damiana looked off to the side, then back at her daughter. "I've been on this call long enough. I don't want anyone tracing it. There's a note from your father in the book. I love you, dear. Be good."

The connection closed. T'mpest was still smiling as she turned off her console.

OFF

Lieutenant Commander T'mpest Michaels
Chief Intelligence Officer
USS Ranger

 

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