Damn Funny

            Although July daylight diminished each day, the sunrise still came early, by oh six hundred; darkness arrived by 19:00. When Jonathan awoke, it was still dark, and Riaan was still next to him.

            He was not looking forward to this day, but he was thrilled for Riaan. He remembered the day he left Earth in command of Starfleet’s first deep space mission, aboard Enterprise NX-01. He’d wanted nothing more than to prove his ability to make a decision without someone looking over his shoulder at every turn. And Riaan deserved that same opportunity to be her best, to spread her wings, to achieve knowledge while among the stars. They were equivalently cut from the same cloth, the two of them.

            In the darkness he stretched to reach her, kissing her uncovered shoulder.

            “Hmm, that was some kind of crazy last night,” she mumbled.

            “Some kind, that’s one way of putting it,” he half whispered. “It’s oh-five hundred.”

            “I don’t want to get up.” Riaan rolled over and pressed her face on his neck. His morning stubble grazed the sensitive ridges of her forehead, sending a petite quiver down her back. Without light to see by, touch, taste, smell and hearing were all more sensitive, adding a little mystery and magic to their last morning together. 

            When they arrived at Starfleet, Archer pulled Captain Mitchell aside. Standing together in the space dock loft, they watched the crews scurry around Discovery to get her ready for her next mission.

            “You are not my favorite person today,” the admiral said to the captain. “I didn’t think you were serious when you said you were going to offer Riaan a commission.”

            “As my grand-mamma would say, she’s as sharp as a needle and much more useful.”

            “Something’s just not right with this picture.” The captain stifled a grin but Archer caught him. “It’s not funny.”

            “With all due respect, it’s damn funny, Jon,” Pete chuckled. He looked up at Jon’s daughter, now over a year old, sitting on the shoulders of her father with her arms wrapped partly around his head. Ariannaa perpetually smiled. “You need to learn to relax. You’ve spent the last twenty years knocking the hell out of yourself for everyone but yourself. Isn’t Chief of Staff enough work for you? You want to keep an eye on your girlfriend, too?”

            Archer bristled at Mitchell’s description for Riaan.

            “She’s my wife, Captain; it’s just not on paper yet, that’s all.” Pete didn’t buy it.

            “I can formalize it right now for you. Oh, wait, we’d have to leave space dock. You game? I’m sure there’s a shuttle-”

            “Cut it out, Pete.” Archer was stoic watching the Starfleet crews go about their jobs.

            “Jon,” Pete addressed him, as a friend, “I have a lot of new officers and crewmen on this mission. The Gliese system is where we’ll be most of the time, and we won’t be more than 100 light years out, so stop worrying. I’m not even sure what’s really bothering you.” Archer didn’t answer. They stared out the windows watching a shuttle dock with Discovery.

            “Discovery’s your ship, Jon, anytime you want her.” Captain Mitchell put his hand on the admiral’s shoulder briefly, and then gently tugged on Ariannaa’s tiny white shoe that hung over Jonathan’s shoulder. Brannigaan jogged up to the officers and stopped at a respectful distance. Jonathan was suddenly surprised at how tall the boy had gotten in the last year; he must have grown 30 centimeters. The men greeted him with a smile, inviting him closer.

            “Mom wants you to come down to the shuttle dock.”

            Archer lifted the baby from his shoulders and handed her to her brother. She gleefully went from one person to another without complaint, indeed, just as happy to see the boy as anyone else who happened to be around.

            “Well, she sure doesn’t get her sweetness from you, does she?” Pete said with a straight face to Jonathan. “You could learn a little from her, Jon; lighten up.”

Six Parsecs

            Starfleet was arguably the best employer on Earth. Officers wanted for nothing except perhaps each other’s assignments. For Admiral Archer, Chief of Staff for United Earth Space Probe Agency, the only thing denied him was his own command thanks to transporter travels. Phlox had been correct, however, in predicting memory improvement with the changes in his neural chemistry. Jonathan never forgot what time Riaan called each day, and hadn’t missed a single call in two months.

            “It’s 8000 light years from here. A few parsecs closer isn’t going to make that much difference.”