Paint and Powder

A Star Trek anthology by Andrew Joshua Talon

DISCLAIMER: This is a non-profit fan based work of prose. Star Trek: The Next Generation, Deep Space Nine, Voyager et al are the property of CBS Television, and creation of Gene Roddenberry. Please support the official release.

Even more Tales of the Dominion War...

The Cerritos had pulled into dock over Archer IV for standard resupply. She stood with Boimler in the main cargo bay, shuffling things in and out of the airlock to the space station. It was a bit mind numbing, but it was kind of nice to get back to something simple.

By and by, an older human male in civilian clothing stepped onto the deck. His hair was gray and thinning, and he wore scars across his neck and cheeks. He looked up and around the cargo bay, before his eyes finally settled on Cerritos' avatar. Boimler raised his eyebrows as the man walked up to them.

"Uh, sir, can I help you?" Boimler asked. Cerritos stared at him, as the man drew himself up.

"Listen... I'm not sure if you remember me-"

Cerritos beamed.

"Master Chief Petty Officer Roger Rixby! Retired! Of course I remember you! How are you?"

Rixby beamed back, and gladly accepted her hands. Rixby chuckled. Boimler tugged on his uniform collar, feeling a bit awkward as the old man grinned down at the holographic avatar.

"I'm doing all right. Working as head of security for the Blue Giant Starliner Company," he said. Cerritos grinned.

"Wonderful! And what brings you to see me?"

Rixby sucked in a deep breath and looked her right in the eyes.

"I just wanted to stop by... And thank you."

Cerritos blinked curiously.

"Thank me?"

"During the war," Rixby said, "after that action over Betazed... You saved me. You saved a hundred others. And you kept me alive. I just... I never got to thank you. I got transferred to a hospital ship while in a medical coma."

Cerritos nodded.

"I remember," she said. "Your MACOs fought so hard. You retook the Betazed Starbase. Suffered fifty percent casualties. The Khandahar was such a wreck after. She had nothing but good things to say about you."

"Did she?" Rixby asked, grinning brightly. "She was a hell of a ship. She got us in when her bridge crew was killed, under fire. Have you seen Khandahar lately?"

"Eh, she's doing training missions with the MACOs," Cerritos said, "having a hell of a time!" She beamed and shook her head.

"And as for thank yous... There's no need. I was just doing my duty, same as you."

"Even so," Rixby stated, "I just wanted to show my appreciation. Thank you, Cerritos."

"You're welcome, Chief," Cerritos stated. Rixby rummaged around in his jacket, and pulled out a holophoto. It was of a young girl, half-Bajoran and half Terran. She was smiling in the lap of a beautiful young Bajoran lady.

"Here. This is my wife Rina, and my daughter-"

"Oh Maker," Cerritos groaned with a laugh, "please tell me you didn't call her Cerritos!"

"No, no... She'd have been teased to hell and back," Rixby chuckled, "but we did name her Callie."

"Aww," Cerritos cooed, "she looks just like you! Well, 50 percent like you."

"Wow," Boimler murmured. Rixby glanced over at Boimler, as though noticing him for the first time. He raised an eyebrow.

"So. Who's this skinny fellow?" He asked.

"Uh, Lieutenant JG Bradward Boimler, sir," Boimler stammered. Rixby snorted, glaring a bit.

"Don't call me sir, son, I work for a living," he stated.

"Yes sir," Boimler tried, "I mean, er... Mister Rixby!"

Rixby glanced over at Cerritos. The avatar beamed.

"He's a good officer," she said, "he's coming along well. He's even saved me once or twice."

Rixby looked over at Boimler and smiled, more warmly now.

"Keep it up. You take care of this lady, you hear?" He said.

"I-Yes sir! I will!" Boimler promised. Rixby smiled down at Cerritos, as fond as he would have been of a granddaughter.

"Good, good..." He grinned. "Well, I've taken up enough of your time. You're busy."

"Never too busy for an old friend," Cerritos said warmly. "See you later? I'm just a subspace call away."

"I'll remember that," Rixby said with a nod. He turned and headed out the airlock, avoiding the crewmen pushing hover dollies to and fro. Boimler gave Cerritos an inquisitive look.

"You were in the Dominion War?" Boimler asked in amazement. Cerritos smirked.

"We all were, Brad," she said, "what's the ancient saying? A military runs on beans, boots, and bullets. And I supplied them all. I ran supplies to the front, and took injured back home. I towed damaged ships, and repaired them. I was a hospital ship and a troop carrier-Even a recreation ship, once or twice."

She looked back at the airlock.

"And during the Third Battle of Betazed, I was supporting the assault to retake our main starbase from the Dominion," she said. "I towed Mister Rixby's ship out of harm's way while he and his MACOs assaulted the interior, then went back to take the wounded out. I took a lot of fire... Lost a nacelle."

She smiled rather sadly.

"We lost so many people that day... And the days before, and after," Cerritos admitted, "but there's a selfish part of me that... That is happy whenever someone comes and thanks me for what I did. What we all did. Even though they don't have to."

"Yeah, well," Boimler coughed, "uh... Thank you very much. For all that you did."

Cerritos raised an eyebrow.

"You don't have to say it-"

"But I do," Boimler said, "and maybe... Maybe I don't say it enough. Maybe we don't say it enough, but... Thank you. I really mean it."

Cerritos stared at him... Then smiled warmly, dimples appearing in her cheeks.

"Well, you're welcome," she said back, giving his hand a squeeze. "Now... About those inventories?"

"Huh? Oh! Y-Yeah, yeah!" Boimler immediately got back to checking the manifests, as Cerritos monitored the comings and goings. But she kept her dimpled smile on the whole time.

Because wars aren't just won with warships...