So Tell Me...

Posted on Thu Apr 23, 2026 @ 9:17am by Lieutenant Commander Ronald Hawk & Commander Richard Fitzsimons

1,737 words; about a 9 minute read

Mission: S03E01 - Something about Tribbles
Location: Langley Station: Bar
Timeline: MD02 21:30hrs

ON:

Richard leaned back in his seat as he continued to study the information on the PADD in his hand. The other hand held a short of whiskey straight; a drink to take the edge off of the lingering hangover from last night. He'd managed the day, but only just; the work had at least helped to keep his mind off of the other issue in his life, a certain station Commodore.

For this piece of work he now wanted to do, a relaxed setting was a better fit. After meeting Ron last night and this morning; the executive officer felt he was a touch more headed towards understanding the officer, it was the background that was worrying a little. The background also fed into the uncertainty that Ron had displayed during their earlier meeting.

"Up for round two, eh?" Came a friendly Irish voice from somewhere behind. "See you've started without me!"

It was Ron who was sauntering over and quickly took a seat at the table with his companion, and senior.

Richard smiled warmly at his colleague as he indicated for a server to take an order. His deactivated the PADD as he placed it to the side and stretched his legs out to get more comfortable. "Gotta be honest, some hair of the dog is long overdue. I played nice today but if I don't have this now; I'm not sure how tomorrow will go."

Ron raised his eyebrows, wondering if this is really the sort of admittance a senior officer ought to give his junior. He ordered himself a double whisky and held it to his nose and savoured the aroma, before pouring back around quarter of the glass. "Aye, it's good stuff f'sure. Have you got around to talking to Kate yet?" he asked aware of the nerve it would pull, but feeling as if he might have the comradery to pull off such a question.

"Oph...pulling the punches quick aren't you." Richard let out a hearty laugh that showed no abrasion behind the words. "Don't you think my headache is bad enough? Although true be told...Im kinda getting the feeling that I've done something to piss her off. There's been a shift since this morning and I honestly can't figure out why."

"Communication isn't your strong suit is it?" Ron jested. "You know, you could just ask her. I've never known her to be anything but honest, and it could just be that she saw how hung over you've been."

"I have a kid you know, so I'm not all bad with the woman! All be that ones a story in itself and probably further highlights just how I bury my feelings instead of dealing." Richard grimaced a little as he thought about his son's Mum and all that had happened. "And what about you? I'm not sure how your scientist ever gets the time for romance. In all of the time I've known her, she's never been a great socialiser. Your more likely to find her with her head in a science project than with a drink in her hand."

“Have you even tried to get to know Caiomhe?” Ron asked in offence. “She loves her work, that’s true, but there is far more to her than that, and she definitely likes a glass of wine.” Ron thought back, now he came to think of it he couldn’t remember a time he had spent with her off duty where wine hadn’t been involved.

Richard realised he'd hit a nerve and held his hands up a little in a mock surrender with a smile before sipping his whiskey further. "Let's flip for a second...how are you and the missus doing? You've had a long absence from each other; and you, your back with a huge bang with Starfleet chucking you back into the deep end."

“Honestly,” Ron sighed before knocking back the rest of his whisky. “I couldn’t tell you. Things seem to be ok, but I feel... I know… there’s things she’s hasn’t, or won’t tell me. I don’t blame her, it’s obviously hard for her.”

Slipping gently on his drink, Richard thought over the direction he wanted to take this. He'd wanted to see how the fellow was setting back in after everything but perhaps the love side of the life fed into that. "You've only been back now, what...two to three days? That's a very very short time for the time you have been away."

“It’s not that I’m in a hurry for her to open up. It’s just, what ever it is seems to have a hold on her,” Ron shrugged. “I guess she just has me worried. we are doing fine. But I don’t think she is.”

"Caoimhe's a strange one...she doesn't have that many friends and from what I can tell the ones she has took time and in some cases forced situations." Richard folded his arms as he leaned on the table and studied the other man. "What's funny to me though is I could almost swear your outlining yourself with those words, not somebody else."

Ron had been ushering to order another drink as Richard was speaking but continued to listen. “How do you mean?” He puzzled.

Richard watched the other man as his own hand reached to slide his fingers across his glass surface. "What happened earlier in the meeting with Tim; I couldn't help feeling that maybe your not doing one hundred percent ok yourself."

“I’m doing just fine,” Ron replied just moments before knocking back another whisky. “I’m under no illusions that Star Fleet is perfect. Is all.”

Feeling the cold texture of the liquid against the glass, Richard studied Ron as he tried to figure out how much he could pry before the man might try and block. "I don't think that anyone thinks Starfleet is perfect. While higher uppers try to give it that apearance; all us lowers know that nobody and nothing can be infaliable."

“I used to think more of the uniform,” Ron sighed. “Don’t get me wrong, I still wear it with pride. But for every good deed we do as a service, we seem to do two more things that bring harm. Whether it’s intentional or not. Whether by choice, or not.”

Picking up the glass, Richard twisted it before responding. "So why did you come back? Come back to Starfleet and the obligations brought with it?"

Another beckon for another glass before Ron answers. “Answer me this. Where you you go, what would you do, if not doing exactly what you are doing now?”

Richard took a sip before allowing his smile to show. He didn't need to give the question alot of thought. "id be childless. But more than that I'd probably...no make that definitely be dead by now. The two best parts of me wouldn't exist."

“So you’d be no where else?” Ron clarifies taking his drink from the waitress and chugging it down in one. “Neither would I. I’m no farmer, not that the family farm belongs to the family anymore, and honestly doing that one bit of good is worth it.”

"You may not realise it when you look at me; but I grew up a rebel without a cause. Ran away from home at eighteen and in my young nievity, took up with the wrong side of freighters." Richard smiled at the other man, not afraid to speak of his past knowing that he knew more of Ron than perhaps Ron knew of him. "Your new executive officer has a shady past and an arrest record to match it."

“Figures,” muttered Ron. “You’re too relaxed! That usually comes from somewhere.” All inhibition had left Ron at this point. The alcohol was preventing him from filtering his own words.

Richard couldn't help the laugh as his body relaxed; less from the alcohol and more from the company. "I like you Ronald...but you still partly avoided my earlier question. Why Langley? You could have gone somewhere else where your past isn't your shadow and you could rebuild what you lost without the weight of yours and ours expectations."

"I like you too..." Ron replied pointing a finger at Richard and poking him upon his shoulder. "You took my job, but...." he burst out laughing. "I don't care! you do you!" The question was still avoided, not out of deliberate avoidance, but by pure drunken inability to think straight.

Richard held his hand up to the approaching server who had concern across their face; a universal indicator that he had a handle on things. The poke had surprised him but as he surveyed the table and did the mental arithmetic; he began to realize for each of his drinks Ron seem to have managed two. It seemed like maybe this line of questioning may have come to an early end. "Hey man...are you ok? I'm starting to realize we might need to find alternative locations for future meetups as we seem to have developed a bad habit."

"Why wouldn't I be OK? I'm home again, the girl I love is just down the corridor, and I'm a first officer again!" Ron slurred.

Richard glanced round as he began to realize he may have made a very big mistake here. Perhaps the day had been too much for the other man; but alcohol hasn't been the fix that the executive officer had intended. If anything it may have made things worse...infact he wasn't sure how much Ron would appreciate this in the morning. "Hey man...how about we have a walk back to your quarters? Maybe have a nightcap there? Or a coffee?"

"I'm sorry, I just don't see you that way!" Ron laughed heartily. "I can get myself back." He stood and stumbled slightly, but by some miracle managed to keep himself stood.

Richard lurched to his feet at the same time, the alcohol causing him ever so slight lightheadedness as he held back reaching for the other man. "Please Ronald...I insist. Your quarters are on the way back to mine anyway so why not keep me company on the long walk?"

OFF:

Commander Richard Fitzsimons
Executive Officer
Langley Station

Lt Cmdr Ronald Hawk
Executive Officer
USS Fury

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