Is that a piece of Space Trash, or are you just happy to see your Ambassador?

Posted on Tue Feb 2nd, 2010 @ 1:57am by

678 words; about a 3 minute read

Mission: FORGING AHEAD
Location: Tenet Five interstellar Transport "Amalia"

Amalia sat at the co-pilot's chair.

She was touched by the fact that her husband had renamed his ship from the Ilia to the Amalia just because they had gotten married all of 3 months ago.

Their' relatively few possessions, as Faron had picked up a relatively Vulcan habit of living, that of a relatively small amount of items of personal merit, were packed up in a total of 14 boxes, and 2 suitcases. Only the one suitcase was Faron's. It held a Betazoid Meditation medallion, and his other robe, and a picture. Of Amalia.

She looked at her husband, and smiled. She had to admit, despite how old the Tenet Five was, her husband had taken good care of it.

The Amalia was nearly a century old, and yet it was still capable of warp 6, and was now complete with a transport pad, and a replicator. The craft, in it's first line of duty, wouldn't have had the power for it, with the weaponry it was outfitted with, but the Amalia was now listed as a Diplomatic Transport, and thus, unarmed.

She watched Faron, and smiled. "We've got the Typhon on Long Range Scanners. Shouldn't be more than an hour, at this pace."

Faron nodded, and smiled back at her. "Right on schedule." He said.

Amalia looked at her reflection in the Tenet V's viewport, and smiled. All of 32, and relatively frail, and petite, especially for a member of her family, which was full of husky well-built Russians, she had first met Faron two years ago, when she was working at a small cafe in San Fransisco, on Earth. The man walked in, with his strange, shimmering green robe, and had ordered a Green Tea. Her personal favorite. Her shift was nearly over, and they ended up spending 6 hours talking over 19 cups of Green Tea.

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Faron stared both at the controls of the little ship, and Amalia's reflection on the view-port. He smiled, at the thought of the petite woman, without who, he would probably not have taken this specific ambassadorial opening, as it was far from...

...Anywhere.

He still couldn't understand precisely how a simple love for Green Tea had pulled the two of them together, but he was glad of it.

He watched the scanners come on line, as they entered the craft's short-range scanners.

"Attention Starbase Typhon docking control, this is the Diplomatic Transport Amalia, requesting permission to dock." Faron's rather soft, deep voice inquired.

"Roger that, Amalia, you are cleared for docking, along the following path. We can't seem to activate your automated Docking system, so you'll have to fly manually." Came the reply.

"Check that, Typhon, The Amalia doesn't have an Automated Docking System." Faron replied.

"Based on sensor scans, can't say I'm surprised." Came the dock-master's reply.

Amalia laughed.

Faron shot her a look. He was defensive about his out-dated transport.

She laughed again.

Faron smiled, and began plotting the docking course, as the base had transmitted.

Just as the Craft touched down, Amalia grabbed two mugs of Green Tea from the replicator.

"To new beginnings." She said, as she lifted her mug.

Faron accepted the mug gratefully, and clinked his against hers.

"To new beginnings." He said with a smile.

"I'll get our bags beamed to our assigned quarters, once I find them from the base." She said, as she kissed his cheek. "You go meet the base commander."

"Hey! Who's the Ambassador here?" Faron asked.

Amalia giggled. "I'm your wife now. That means I'm in charge."

Faron pretended to sigh. "Alright, I'll give you that one."

Amalia broke out into full-out laughing. Faron joined in.

She playfully hit his shoulder. "Go on. You don't want to keep the Base Commander waiting."

Faron bowed, and giggled a little. "Yes Mistress." He replied.

He ran down the shuttle's back-ramp just in time to dodge a poorly timed slap.

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Ambassador Faron Lenar
Federation Ambassador,
Starbase Typhon

Civilian Amalia Lenar
Starbase Typhon

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