Meeting the Men in Green

Posted on Thu Jun 9th, 2016 @ 9:37pm by Major Patrick McMichaels

983 words; about a 5 minute read

Mission: Episode 91 - Bremer vs Bremer
Location: Marine Country
Timeline: Current

To be honest, if Denara really thought about it, she would have to admit that she was just a tad bit nervous.

"Really, we are all on the same side here, fighting the same war, protecting the same interests", would have been her rationale. But that still didn't help her feel any less like she was landing in enemy territory.

But that was life in the Starfighter Corp, she supposed. It was like having a piece of furniture that really didn't fit with the rest, but was really, really comfortable. So it ended up being put all over the place. Not that any of the pilots would admit to it, they were pilots after all and had an image to maintain, but in the course of her career, Denara had worn blue collars for starfighters, and also red as she had fallen under the "Flight Control" Department.

Today, it was something a little more auspicious... today she was wearing green. Today, Denara was a marine!

As she had read through the bios of her pilots, she had definitely seen the mixiture of talent and skills... differences that she had become use to by now.

Marines, civilian pilots, Starfighter Corpsmen straight from the Academy, and transfers from Flight Control... shuttle pilots who were looking for a change. The various skillsets were definitely an asset in her mind, but it did make for some glaring weaknesses as well.

Weaknesses that Denara planned to address, hence her seeking out Captain McMichaels for help with.

Hence her now entering Marine Country to speak to him.

After being shown the direction to his office, she pushed the chime, sounding it somewhere inside and waited for Captain McMichaels to allow her to enter.

"Enter" he said as he reviewed some old mission logs from Marine Base Cerberus.Patrick saw the new 'green man'. But she was no man and certainly not green.

"Good Afternoon, Captain McMichaels", said Denara as she entered the Marine Captain's Office. She quickly glanced around, trying to gauge the man by what he kept around the room. So far, it was organized in a way that she had come to expect from a marine. "I am Captain Denara Itris, Wing Commander of the 181st. May I come in?"

As she spoke, she focused her attention from the room to the man sitting at the desk. Oh Damn, she thought. He's a damn ginger!

For whatever reason, Denara always had a thing about Gingers/Redheads. Maybe it was their fiery temper, who knows, but her most epic failures at relationships were usually with Coppertops.

Patrick looked into her blue eyes and noticed her blonde hair. She had a nice figure. He smiled at her, a twinkle in his eye. "By all means Captain. Please, come in. Have a seat. Would you like something to drink?" he asked, being a gentleman.

Denara took a seat across the desk from the Captain. "Yes, a Raktajino please." Denara waited for Captain McMichaels to hand her the cup. When she received it, she took a quick sip of the hot liquid. She could feel the warmth radiate out from the liquid as she swallowed the sip. Then she set the cup down and sat back a little.

"Thank you Captain. Now to the matters at hand. I just transferred in from the Starfleet Academy and looking over my pilots's evals, I see that they are all skilled in flying a fighter, but their other skills seem to be lacking. I would like to put in a request to my squadron train with marines. I want them to be able to act and fight like a team on the ground and in the air. Also, being new, I am getting to know my fellow officers."

Patrick was intrigued by her proposal. "It's intriguing. I haven't mixed with a flygirl before. Could be fun. What kind of training did you have in mind?" he asked with raised eyebrow and a playful wink.

Denara tried to ignore the wink, but couldn't help have her spirits lifted by his charms. "Survival training first, but I really want them to work as cohesively outside the cockpit as inside. "

Denara took another sip of Raktajino. "Anyway, I know that it may be denied, but I always try to get what I want and if I am rejected, so be it."

Well that came out all sorts of wrong, thought Denara. "and I didn't know who to start the request with. Getting advice from another Captain seemed to be the way to go."

All of her phrases were ripe with untapped emotions and passions. Patrick noticed her cheeks beginning to redden as she became engaged. "Inside AND outside the cockpit. Sounds good. I'm sure I could arrange for a little soiree. Give ye a good ride, eh lass?" he asked with a Scottish lilt.

Then he stood up and strode around his desk to face her. "Welcome Captain. Please call me Patrick. At least when we're off duty or" *leaning in close enough to smell her* "in private" he said with another wink.

Denara tried unsuccessfully to repress a snort of amusement, but she didn't back up. "You know how this is going to end... Groundpounders and flyboys hardly ever mix. But the ride is always exciting." She looked him in the eye, evaluating him. "I'm off duty at 1900 hours. Even being new to the station, I know where the Promenade is and that there is a bar or too. I shall be at the Skyline Lounge about that time."

With that, she turned and walked to the door. She paused for a moment, but didn't turn around. "Captain."

And then she left the office.

Patrick watched her leave; intently. She was the finest female specimen he'd seen in years. "Skyline Lounge at 1900. Aye, that sounds like a date to me" he said then started whistling.

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