Wasps and Stings
Posted on Fri Mar 28th, 2025 @ 5:23am by Brigadier General Francis 'Judge' Sobel
Edited on on Fri Mar 28th, 2025 @ 6:27pm
1,015 words; about a 5 minute read
Mission:
Episode 16 - Silent Cries
Location: SS Savant Royal near the Badlands
Timeline: MD006 2030 hrs
Francis sat watching the remake of Taming of the Shrew being put on by a Vulcan company with a dubious eye. It was meant to be clinical. It was meant to remove the passion and reinforce the logic as only Vulcans could do.
Or attempt to do.
In some ways, the humor was still there because of how flat some of the lines were delivered. As far as Francis could tell, the lines were all letter perfect and it WAS an interesting take on Shakespeare’s classic.
But it was dragging a little and he was restless. Glancing down at the tuxedo he wore, then over at Tempest he settled himself. They’d taken too few vacations through the years and she’d been excited when he suggested a week long trip aboard the Savant Royal. They were three days in and it had been a firm policy of sleeping in. Drinking a little too much. Eating probably a lot too much. A dance class yesterday afternoon. A ballroom dance scheduled for tomorrow. A concert last night and a few other activities sprinkled in.
For a vacation, Francis was getting tired. The luxury starship was big, relatively speaking and they’d spent the first evening waking the various decks and bar hopping at different clubs and bars (a total of twelve). Tempest, now dressed in a blue, spaghetti strapped evening gown was positively glowing and that made him feel good.
Even if a part of him (a small part) would be glad when they could go back home and get some rest. Later they were due on the observation deck for cocktails with the Savant’s captain and a few other dignitaries as the ship dropped from warp and took a few hours cruising through the outskirts of the Badlands outside of Cardassian space, then through a nearby nebula before the jump to Manu III, in the Actium sector. The planet was in the middle of a year long celebration as three different comets passed by.
The party lasted for six months, apparently, and the comets only danced in Manu’s sky for three weeks. The Savant’s stop would coincide in the middle of those weeks and he, Tempest and the rest of the guests would spend two days there before touring the rest of the sector before the return leg.
He’d been wool gathering and felt a nudge of Tempests pump against his ankle and he gave his wife a sheepish smile and she winked at him, hitching up the hem and very high slit of her dress provocatively with another smile before tuning her attention back to the play.
Recognizing the intent was easy after twenty plus years of marriage and he refocused on the play. She’d want to talk about it later and that dress would stay on if she decided he wasn’t trying to pay attention.
They were reaching the point where Kate was making her speech at the banquet when a shudder rippled through the Savant’s deck and Francis’s head snapped around. There were exclamations from the patrons and the cast was continuing calmly with their lines. He was on his feet and Tempest beside him when he heard weapons fire and even more yelling. The Savant shuddered again and a low alarm began hooting as the Captain’s voice came over the blower.
“All guests will please to remain in place. We are currently dealing with some unwelcome arrivals, but rest assured our security team is on the job and we’ve notified the Cardassian authorities for assistance.”
The message went into repeat and Francis moved to their box’s door and tried it. It was locked and he cursed as he patted the sheathed Kabar at the small of his back. When they’d checked in, the boarding officer had told them no weapons were allowed and Francis had countered that it was a religious artifact. Ultimately, he’d been allowed to keep the blade but even still he felt naked. The sound of running feet and weapons fire came nearer and then a voice growled out, “Step back ya lubbers.”
Francis pulled Tempest behind him and then there was a flash and he was showered with splinters as the actual wooden door was blown to matchsticks and three large goon types came pushing in. “Here’s Johnny,” the largest human said with a chuckle. All were decked out in mismatched soft body armor and were handling phasers like they knew how to use them. “There ya are yer generalship,” the brawny Johnny said with another chuckle. “And the misses too. Just like they said. You’ll be coming with us now and not making this difficult. We’ve a boat to catch before these pretty security guards get their drahk together.”
Eyeing the three, Francis didn’t like the sound of it and his hand dipped for the knife even as he bull rushed the leader. Two beams lanced out and he flopped to the deck at Johnnies feet as the leader smirked and plucked the fighting knife from its place.
“Pig sticker alright, nice shooting boys,” then he looked up at Tempest’s stricken face and said, right. Yer coming too beautiful or are we going to have to shoot and truss you like a hog too?”
Tempest looked up from where she was taking Francis’s pulse, relieved that he appeared to be only stunned and brought her hands up as the pirates advanced.
Black John keyed his mike and said, “Team three to Captain,” he reported. “Two bagged and ready to go.”
As he finished speaking, there were shouts outside and a brace of the Savant’s security forces moved in, stopping short as they watched Black John, his two mates, and Brigadier and Dr. Sobel transport out.
A Post By
Brigadier General Francis Sobel
Commanding Officer, 258th Starfleet Marine Expeditionary Brigade
Empok Nor
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