Setting Up Shop...Again...

Posted on Wed Apr 21st, 2021 @ 9:13am by Micheal Robertson & Leiddem Kea (*) & Angel Ramirez

Mission: Mission 13: Stowaway
Location: SS Mary Rose, Armory
Timeline: MD 0 / 0930 hours
999 words - 2 OF Standard Post Measure

Micheal carefully made way to his old office. He had just had his security clearances and position reinstated by Reuben, so he was on his way down the Armory, to reclaim his office.

As he entered the Armory, he saw two men. The first he recognized immediately. Leiddem had been his assistant chief before he left. The other man, he did not know. "Morning, Leiddem. Who's your friend?"

Leiddem turned as the door opened, stopping the conversation that he and Angel had been having over the events of the last few days. Everything now made sense for the most part, but there was the lingering air of distrust around the ship that had the Betazoid on edge. He did not like that emotion around the people he cared for and respected. He glanced at Angel, remembering they had never met before, but also confirmed that Michael was back on the ship at the very least. “Angel, meet Michael Robertson. Michael, meet Angel Ramirez, my partner in crime-stopping.” He introduced the pair with an easy smile.

“Pleasure to meet you, sir,” Angel said, extending his hand. He had a slight accent, Cuban. “You are the new jefe then?”

Micheal took the offered hand and gave it a polite squeeze as they shook. Chuckling softly, he replied. "The new old jefe, actually. I left, a little over a year ago, to hunt someone down. Then became trapped in the Andromeda galaxy again. Spent the last year trying to find my way home, only to get shot back to where Rosie was." He shook his head in disbelief. "Not sure if I'm lucky or if the Fates had a different plan for me."

"How about yourself?" Micheal asked as they released the handshake. "What brings you to Rosie?"

“The money,” Ramirez said. “Better pay than Starfleet. Less rules. Didn’t get along with my last CO well. Figured freelance was where it was at,” he said.

Leiddem snorted at the mention of money. It was not that much better at all, but who was he to judge. The man was there for a reason and he had been a good friend so far.

Micheal chuckled at the comment. "Well, the pay certainly is better, though sometimes it's not as consistent. It all depends on the jobs we are able to pull down." He paused for a beat, hearing that there had been issues with his former commanding officer. "Well, as you're in my department, clearly both the captain and exec feel you aren't a security risk. Care to tell me the issues you had in Starfleet?"

“I had a...looser interpretation of the rules. For the greater good,” Angel said. “It didn’t fit well with Starfleet culture. Everyone on the Vindicator had a stick so far up their ass.” He shook his head. “Everyone was so afraid of the Old Man.”

“Well, he was the captain,” Leiddem said with a snort. That was the point of the captain, to lead, and for the crew to follow. “Gregnol is not much better. He has rules and expects them to be followed,” he said slightly with a grin. He had known the captain ten years. He had not mellowed with age at all.

Micheal chuckled softly. "Yeah, Angel," he began. "If you were thinking that Rosie would be a free-for-all, just because she's a civie ship, you signed on to the wrong vessel." He moved forward and playfully slapped the other man's back. "But hey, the pay's better!" He moved again, this time, heading towards his old office. "Leiddem, is my stuff still in there, or did y'all pack it up, thinking I was dead?"

“Well, we did have a new armoury chief, so you will have to talk to him, I am afraid but pretty sure everything was packed up and stored. Goes by second boss and mini Gregnol,” Leiddem said with a small shrug. He had played no part in packing up anything, but it would have been put somewhere.

Micheal stopped mid step. Turning, he leveled his gaze on his former assistant. "Lieddem," his voice was almost deadly quiet. "If my vintage Mr. Potato Head was damaged, there will be hell to pay."

Angel raised an eyebrow, quickly shutting up at the tone in Michael’s voice...just in case. Was this another tyrannical boss?

Leiddem shrugged at the man and let out a yawn. “As I said, nothing to do with me. You need to talk to the captain for where it was put, but if you excuse me, my shift has ended. Angel, have a good day, good luck. I have a breakfast date and I can’t be late.”

Micheal kept his thinly opened eyes locked on Leiddem as the younger man yawned and left. Once he was gone, the Texan turned his gaze on Angel, holding him in sight for a few tense seconds. Finally, Micheal broke out in a loud, full-body, laugh. He had to lean against the nearest console just to steady himself.

"You..." He spoke between calming laughs. "You shoulda seen your face!" More laughter. Then, finally calming down, Micheal wiped a few tears from his eyes. "All this time, even after being gone for a year, and I still can't ruffle Leiddem's feathers!" More calm now, but still chuckling softly, Micheal motioned for Angel to follow him into his former, now regained, office. "Have a seat. You want something to drink?"

Angel followed. “On duty, sir,” he said. “Water will be fine.”

Grinning, the Texan replied. "Relax, Angel. In here, when we're not doing official security work, it's just Micheal." Turning to his small replicator, he said, "Raktajino and chilled Altair water." Both beverages materialized and he lifted them from the alcove. Moved over to hand the water to Angel, then moved behind the desk that was his, once again. "So," he said as he lowered himself down into the seat. "Tell me about yourself."

(To be Continued...)