“Coming Home part 1”

USS Orlando

In dock at SB96

Officers’ Quarters
2375 – three months after the Battle of Cardassia

Moira Macready dropped her luggage on the floor and twirled in a circle, arms outstretched.  “Sooo good to be home,” she gushed.  The cabin was small but cozy; little more than a combination living/dining area, a separate sleeping area, and a private bathroom.  Being located on the ship’s upper decks gave the windows a slope that remined one of a loft.

Commander Ingrid Selvig followed her spouse into the small cabin, grinning as she placed her bags down next to Moira’s.  “You’ve just spent three years living on the station, with full access to the planet,” she pointed out.  “You never felt at home there?” 

Moira had been obligated to disembark with the rest of the crew’s families when the Dominion War began. She’d been renting quarters on the starbase and working in a local bar ever since.  “Stuck in orbit of the same bloody planet day after day,” she groused.  “I joined the catering service to see the galaxy, not just one planet.  And I missed you so much,” Moira added quietly.

Ingrid slipped her arms around Moira’s waist.  “I’ve been with you on the station for the last three months,” she chuckled.  The ship had been in spacedock for the last three months undergoing refit and repairs, and the entire crew had been relocated.  Some had moved on to other assignments, while others had left the fleet entirely.  Ingrid and many others had merely been temporarily reassigned.

“Not the same luv,” Moira asserted, leaning her head against Ingrid’s shoulder.  She started dancing slowly, even though there was no music.  “Not the same at all.”

Ingrid held her tight, smiling and swaying along with Moira’s rhythm.  If only this moment could last forever…

“That’s our bed over there,” Moira observed casually after a few moments.  Her right hand had somehow made its way to Ingrid’s bum.

“Down girl,” Ingrid laughed, moving the hand back to her waist.  “I’m still on duty.”  

Just then, Ingrid’s combadge beeped, dispelling the mood.  “Senior officers report to the Observation Lounge,” Captain Dyson Hale ordered.

Moira sighed dramatically.  “That man has the worst timing.”

Shaking her head, Ingrid got a hand free so she could tap her badge.  “On my way.”

Commander Ingrid Selvig
Executive Officer
USS Orlando
NCC 65214

“Not all who wander are lost”

–J.R.R. Tolkien

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