Lifelines and Commlines

Summary: Ashley Degler and Carl Allenby have a talk. A stroll down memory lane. And Carl reflects on the past fifteen years.

Disclaimer: Same as before. John Vornholt's novels Behind Enemy Lines and Tunnel Through the Stars inspired many aspects of this story.

Starbase 375
Lieutenant Commander Degler
11 November 2375
Stardate 52862.1

Ashley Degler approached the office of the Starbase 375 Commanding Officer, Captain Rafael Barba. Pausing outside the closed door she touched the chime.

"Enter," came Barba's voice.

As the door hissed open, Ashley stepped inside.

With a slight creak of the chair, Barba stood and greeted her. "I called you in to congratulate you. Starfleet Command has just approved your application to switch to the command track."

He handed her the PADD with the memo in question and smiled.

Ashley perused the memo's contents and broke into a wide grin.

"Thank you, Captain," she said, lowering the PADD.

"You more than earned it and I gave Starfleet Command my strongest recommendation based on your performance on my crew," Barba said, shaking her hand.

"Thank you, sir," Ashley replied, the reality beginning to settle in.

"You might want to get some red uniforms before your first shift tomorrow," Barba advised.

"Yes sir," Ashley replied, heart hammering.

"Dismissed." Barba nodded.

Ashley turned and exited Barba's office with a spring in her step. 'Stop by the Quartermaster as Barba suggested. Call my parents and my kids…no, it's too late on Earth right now. Get ready for tomorrow…'

A quick trip to the Quartermaster netted her a pair of red mock turtlenecks for a command level officer. She returned to her quarters, placing one of the turtlenecks on a hanger in her closet and laying the other on her bed.

'Might as well try it on.' Ashley thought to herself.

She unzipped and removed the gray and black outer jacket and removed the blue mock turtleneck and set it on her bed. Then she grabbed the red mock turtleneck and put it on before pulling the jacket back over it and zipping it up. After she removed her rank insignia from the collar of the blue mock turtleneck she walked to her dresser to replace her rank pips on her collar.

A chime sounded, accompanied by the soft feminine voice of the computer. "Incoming transmission."
Ashley quickly moved from her bedroom into the living room. "Patch it through," she said as she approached the computer terminal.

The screensaver photo of her family flickered out to reveal another a familiar face.

"Hello, Ashley." Carl Allenby grinned, casually leaning back in his chair.

Ashley heard the faint squawking of sea birds in the background blending with the light jangling of a windchime. The soft glow of sunset illuminated the room, highlighting a slight reddening on his face.

"Hey Carl, how are you?" Ashley asked.

"Had a couple good ones by the beach, so I'm doing well. How are you?" Carl smiled.

"I got some good news. They approved my application to command track," Ashley replied, excitement creeping into her voice.

"Red suits you. Congratulations, Farmgirl," Carl leaned back in his seat.

Ashley noticed a brief pause and raised an eyebrow. "Something's on your mind, I can tell."

"Are you sure you're not part Betazoid?" Carl quipped with a chuckle.

Ashley laughed. "No, just a friend who can tell you're thinking about something."

Carl sighed. "Well, Ash, you always could read me like a book."

"You do tend to wear your heart on your sleeves," Ashley observed.

"Don't I know that, been a trait of mine since I can remember. I make a lousy poker player," Carl admitted.

"People know where they stand with you, though. That's a refreshing thing," Ashley replied, smiling.

"Well, I might as well be out with it. I'm considering returning to Starfleet after a fifteen-year absence," Carl replied, pulling a PADD into view and turned its screen towards his computer terminal monitor.

Ashley's eyes flickered to the PADD and perused the contents of a former mercenary reaching out to Starfleet Command.

"Really? I hope they take you back," Ashley replied.

"I'm going to consider it again, tomorrow, when I'm sober," Carl smirked.

"Wait, you've mentioned this before. The Egyptians?" Ashley pondered, eyebrows furrowing.

"Close. The Persians." Carl corrected, setting the PADD onto the table.

"That's right," Ashley replied with a nod. "They believed that if an idea was good, it made sense both drunk and sober."

"Correctamundo," Carl chuckled.

"You and your historic slang terms." Ashley shook her head, amused.

"Hey, some of these deserve to be brought back." Carl shot back.

"Such as?" Ashley asked.

"Let's see: rad, cool, kickass, and adding 'saurus' to descriptors…" Carl ticked off examples on his fingers as he spoke.

"I can see rad and cool being brought back," Ashley quipped.

Both of them laughed together.

"Hey, thanks for listening to my cockamamie rantings, I really appreciate it." Carl grinned faintly.

"More obscure historic slang? I love it." Ashley chuckled.

"Well, I'm glad I could amuse you even with a few drinks into me," Carl quipped. Both of them laughed.

Ashley smiled. "Well, Carl, it's always a pleasure catching up with you. But I should probably get some rest. Big day tomorrow."

"Understandable. Enjoy your evening, Ashley. And again, congratulations." Carl's grin widened.

"Thanks, Carl. Take care," Ashley said before she ended the transmission.

The computer screen flickered back to the photo of her family. She smiled at a snapshot frozen in time, at her parents' ranch with the barn and sunset in the background. There she stood beside her husband Derek, a tall, red haired fellow with a beard, also sporting the red of Starfleet's command division. His kind smile and warm eyes stared across nearly two years and thousands of light years.

Ashley's fingers lightly traced his face, her eyes misting. 'Derek, I really wish you could share my good news…'

She and Derek were flanked by their children. Their oldest, Ethan stood next to her, holding up a model Galaxy-class starship in the air. He had it high in the air, trying to keep it away from their foxhound, Scout, caught in mid leap.

Ashley smiled. 'Scout, as rambunctious as ever.'

Standing by Derek, shyly hugging her father's leg, was their daughter, Alice. Her wavy blonde locks draped over her shoulders as she held a favorite doll in her other hand. Beside her was their black and tan mini-dachshund, Maisie, nestled at her feet.

In her own arms was David, her two year old son, and youngest child. His arms were around her neck as he looked towards the holoimager.

She traced her fingers over the images of her children and the dogs. "I'll call you all tomorrow…it's too late in Lander right now."

Ashley slid her chair back and crossed the living room to a cabinet. She opened it and pulled out a bottle of red wine, smiling. 'Chateau Picard, 2367.'

Ashley opened the bottle and poured herself a glass. Replacing the cover, she put the bottle back into the cabinet before walking to the nearby viewport. Sipping the glass of wine she stared out at the stars…

Zippo
Badlands
Cardassian Territory
January 11, 2374
Stardate 51041.3

"Rigged her with enough demo to blow her twice in a row," Carl Allenby reported as he climbed down the chute.

"Hope you stuck a long enough fuse in that thing," Udeski shot back from the base of the ladder.

"Relax, I didn't use timed fuses as the main trigger for the device." Carl grinned.

"Okay, what did you use then?" Udeski asked before he tapped the screen on his wrist mounted communicator.

"Proximity sensors. The second the Serpents beam an inspection team aboard, boom she goes…" Carl grinned toothily.

The lighting inside the chute changed from yellow to red before the low whine of the motors retracting it engaged.

"Boarding chute retracted." The computer's soft feminine lilt echoed into the landing space. Then there was the slight lurch of movement as the Zippo got underway.

"Hey, Carl, I want you to keep an eye on the Starfleet POWs we just rescued." Udeski glanced towards the door to the crew lounge.

"And why me?" Carl asked.

"One, it's because you're ex-Starfleet. And two…it's either you or Bayless and we know he's not the best fellow to play host…" Udeski smirked.

"When you put it that way, sure." Carl shrugged.

"Thanks," Udeski replied.

"They're all in the crew lounge?" Carl asked.

"Minus the lieutenant commander you rescued as well as their medic. Cooper's looking after her foot," Udeski replied.

Carl nodded. "Thanks, I'll take it from there."

He walked down the passageway towards the small infirmary. The door hissed open and Carl stepped to one side to avoid bumping into Petty Officer Simon Tarses' booted feet.

"I gave you my best attempt with the bone regenerator, sir," Tarses said as he ran the instrument up and down Ashley's ankle.

"There's a but somewhere," Ashley observed.

"You might want to avoid running your usual 15K runs till a surgeon has a look at your ankle, Commander," Tarses replied.

Cooper interjected, "Exactly my point. The swelling should go down in a few hours but you might want to stay off that foot for a while."

Carl stepped to one side before clearing his throat. "Sorry to interrupt, just wanted to see if you guys needed anything."

"Maybe a larger infirmary," Cooper quipped.

"Where would we find the space, Docssassin?" Carl raised an eyebrow.

"Aren't you an engineer?" Cooper smirked.

"Hey, Nash tends to get a little territorial with folks doing any tinkering with this ship," Carl shot back.

"You did ask if we wanted anything," Cooper warned.

"I was asking our Starfleet guests, pal," Carl smirked.

"I could use a good cup of coffee and something to eat," Ashley replied.

"I'll escort you guys to the crew lounge and a fully operational replicator," Carl smirked.

Cooper handed Ashley a hypospray. "I've set this for four doses of anti-inflamatories, take one every eight hours and the swelling in your foot should go down."

Ashley took the hypospray and stuck it in her pocket. As she stood up Cooper handed her a pair of crutches.

Carl helped Cooper with Ashley's crutches before he stepped aside to let her start moving out of the infirmary and towards the crew lounge.

After a few paces Ashley asked, "Not to sound ungrateful, but what happens now since you've rescued us?"

"Basically we're taking you back to Federation space as quickly as possible," Carl explained as they continued the trip.

"How long is the trip?" Ashley asked.

"I can't say, since straightline routes to the Federation might be ill advised. The Zippo is fast, no doubt, but we're having to evade our way past Dominion patrols," Carl replied as they approached the crew lounge entrance.

He stepped to one side to allow Ashley to enter. Petty Officer Tarses followed her in, with Carl in tow.

Zippo
Badlands
Cardassian Territory
January 11, 2374
Stardate 51041.4

Ashley crutched into the crew lounge, heading towards a sofa at the far end of the room. Crewman Whitehurst was presently snacking on a pastry, a steaming cup of coffee in front of him at a nearby table.

"Whitehurst, have you seen Lieutenant D'Sora?" Ashley asked, stopping and turning to face him. She shifted her weight slightly to stay up on her crutches.

"She headed for the lavatory just now, sir," Whitehurst said, mouth still semi-full of half chewed pastry.

"Thanks. How are you holding up?" Ashley asked.

"Uh…a little shaken still, sir…" Whitehurst shuddered.

With a sigh Ashley replied, "Me too, Whitehurst."

After a moment Ashley turned towards the replicator and crutched over to it. Glancing over her right shoulder she noticed the mercenary, Carl, following her. She made her order and the man took her food and drink as she crutched her way towards the two sofas at the corner of the room.

"I'll give you hand getting seated," Carl offered after setting her coffee and pastry onto the coffee table nearby.

"Thank you," Ashley managed a small smile as Carl headed over to her, helping her sit down and then setting her crutches aside within reach.

"You're welcome," Carl replied as he took a seat on the other sofa and then turned to grab a book from a four level book shelf between the two sofas.

Ashley scanned the authors and titles. 'Jules Verne. Louis d'Lamour. Ernest Hemingway…'

She settled into the sofa, crutches within easy reach and sipped her coffee. She glanced across from her as Carl cracked open Ernest Hemingway's A Farewell to Arms.

'Curious and curiouser.' She thought, her eyes landing on a copy of Lewis Carroll's Through the Looking Glass. She inched along the sofa, the old springs creaking, to reach for it.

Carl set his own book aside. He leaned over, grabbed it and handed it to her.

"Thanks. And sorry to interrupt your reading." Ashley smiled.

"Don't mention it, heard your struggles to get to the book so I thought I'd lend a hand." Carl smiled back as he reached back for his book.

Ashley's eyes flickered to the title again. "I didn't expect a mercenary to be into Hemingway,"

"He's one of my favorite writers and this is, frankly, one of his better works." Carl tapped the cover.

Ashley sipped her coffee, the warmth spreading through her stomach. "Hemingway does have a way with words."

Carl nodded, sticking his index finger in the page he was reading as he looked up. "I really like how he does it with terse prose. Living proof that you don't have to use flowery prose to write well."

"It can be an acquired taste," Ashley replied, taking another sip of her coffee.

"The Vulcan concept of IDIC - Infinite Diversity in Infinite Combinations - suits literature." Carl shrugged.

"That's an interesting perspective," Ashley commented with a wry grin.

"Hey, logic dictates it fits," Carl smirked.

"You study Vulcan philosophy?" Ashley asked.

"That's more Cooper's department, but all of us have been reading Teachings of Surak specifically to give the Docsasssin a hard time." Carl grinned.

"Docsassin?" Ashley's eyebrows furrowed.

"A portmanteau of Doc and Assasssin," Carl replied.

"I figured that out, but why?" Ashley asked.

"Put it this way, you want Cooper stopping a severe bleed or picking off key enemy personnel from over a kilometer out." Carl leaned forward.

"Wow," Ashley managed, her stomach churning.

Ashley sat back, the information about Cooper sinking in. She sipped her coffee, letting the warmth calm her nerves. Carl returned to his book, and for a moment, the room was filled with a comfortable silence, punctuated only by the soft hum of the ship's systems.

"How did you end up here, Carl?" Ashley asked, breaking the silence. "You know, from Starfleet to mercenary?"

Carl looked up from his book, a shadow of a smile on his face. "Long story. Let's just say, I got disillusioned with the bureaucracy and found that I could make more of a difference on my own terms out here."

Ashley nodded. 'Starfleet principles are noble, but things are messy out here.'

"So, what's next for you after you drop us off?" Ashley asked.

Carl shrugged. "Depends."

"On what?" Ashley asked.

"What the Squadron headshed has us doing afterwards," Carl replied with a droll shrug.

A soft chime sounded from the ship's intercom, followed by Udeski's voice. "We're doing a course correction, we're nearing a Cardassian patrol route."

"This is as good a time as any to discuss contingency plans," Carl said.

"Oh?" Ashley asked.

"There's a weapons locker in here. I'd suggest you guys arm yourselves for a fight," Carl replied.

Ashley shuddered slightly before she nodded. "Being captured by Cardassians once is enough."

Carl set his book aside and walked to a locker built into the bulkhead next to the sofa Ashley sat on. He tapped an access code into a panel at the top and with a hiss the locker opened.

Ashley craned her neck, noting various phaser and disruptor weapons from various manufacturers. Carl rummaged through the back of the locker and extracted a Type I phaser. He walked over and handed her the weapon. She examined the safety catch before she holstered it.

Carl nodded before he went to speak to Whitehurst and Tarses.

Ashley briefly watched him gesture to the weapon locker, then turned her attention to the book in her hands, flipping it open to the first page. As she began to read, she found herself surprisingly absorbed in the whimsical world of Lewis Carroll, a pleasant distraction from the harsh realities outside.

Blue Lagoon Hotel, Room 172
Risa
Carl Allenby
12 November 2375
Stardate 52863.6

Carl Allenby opened his eyes and sat up slowly. 'Note to self, one rum drink too many yesterday.'

He grabbed his shirt from off the floor and tossed it on, ensured his shorts were still on, and slid his feet into a pair of flip flops. With a quick check of his pockets for various essentials he scanned the room before he turned and walked towards the door for a stroll.

Walking out of Room 172, he headed down the hallway, the winding spiral staircase into the lobby and finally into to lobby itself. With a smile and nod to the desk clerk he walked out the front door and turned right.

The Risian sun glowed a faint red as it began to peek over the horizon. Carl quickened his pace and sniffed the air, the faint aroma of salt played through his nostrils.

After a quick glance in each direction across a road he quickly sprinted across. Once he'd crossed he slowed to a brisk walk, going off the paved sidewalk, and onto the grass of a local park, cutting across until he reached the coastline.

All the while the sun rose, its orange red glow burning away the night. Carl walked across the sand as he strode purposefully towards the piled rocks of the jetty.

It took a bit of a scramble to climb onto the jetty before he was balancing atop the large boulders piled atop one another.

He wobbled slightly as he stepped on a boulder slick with algae. He caught hold of a drier rock at around chest level to arrest a slip and fall.

'Gotta cut down the drinks,' Carl thought to himself as he scrambled over a trio of rocks each ascending to a more level spot.

His eyes scanned the rocks in front of him. Balancing on a few more loosely jumbled large rocks he followed a meandering path further out to sea.

'This rock doesn't look quite right for thinking. That other one? Looks okay, but it's facing inland, not really where I want to look.' His eyes scanned the larger rocks ahead of him.

'Talk about a hell of a problem, picking the best rock for a life changing decision in a somewhat sober state of mind…' He let out a laugh to himself through his nostrils as he continued his walk along the jetty.

Finally he found the ideal rock, a large flat one near the tip of the jetty. That concern sorted he sat down on the rock, looking out over the ocean.

'So Starfleet…why?' one question to start it all.

One name sprang to mind immediately. Ashley Degler. Lieutenant Commander. Science Officer aboard USS Lyric (NCC-17214)...

Carl shook his head. 'No, not like that. Of course I'd have to be fucking blind not to see she's a beautiful woman by anyone's standards. But she isn't the only reason I'm considering this.'

The waves lapped against the lower rocks of the jetty. Carl looked out at the horizon as the sun brightened the sky as it rose.

'You didn't exactly fit, isn't that why you left Starfleet for the mercenary life fifteen years ago?' A more cynical side gave its opinion.

"That's the understatement of the decade. Oh, Hell, that's the understatement of the century!" Carl grumbled aloud and sighed.

Again the question. Why Starfleet? Why now? His hand shook.

"I could go for a drink right now…" Exhaling through his nostrils. 'Nope, I've got to consider this matter sober.'

His eyes scanned the sea in front of him. Waves crashing against the lower rocks of the jetty. A wave formed, heading towards the jetty.

His eyes tracked the wave on its trajectory until it crashed against the rocks. The spray spattered onto him.

'Right. It all started with Ashley. Not all Starfleet officers are a bunch of self righteous priggish fucknuts…' Carl thought to himself.

'And who's to say said self righteous priggish fucknuts would even want me back?' Carl asked himself as he looked out over the rocks.

Blinking his eyes and looking out at the waves crashing against the rocks. 'There were also the Starfleet blokes in Renegade Squadron…'

Another blink. Remembering the members of that stranded-behind-the-lines Starfleet Special Operations Task Force who'd made an alliance of survival with surviving Maquis and a handful of mercenaries…

'Like me…' Carl thought to himself, his mind drifting…

Puma 2 Tavern
Edge of the Badlands
Allenby, Udeski, Cooper, Bayless, Nash
31 December 2373, 1924
Stardate 50999.4

"Starfleet is getting its ass kicked," Nash sighed as he looked over at the video unit in the corner.

"Another defeat." Udeski grunted, nursing a Long Island Iced Tea between his hands before taking another drag of it.

"Will Starfleet run out of ships or run out of people first…" Bayless began.

Carl glowered at him. "Hell of a way to end a year."

"What the Hell do you care, you're not even in Starfleet anymore?" Bayless smirked.

"Back off…" Carl snapped, fists clenching.

Udeski glared at both men. Carl nodded and took a pull of the Imperial Stout in his hand. Bayless slammed back the shot of bourbon in his left hand.

"What do we know aside from the news?" Cooper asked.

"Ro told me she's doing some digging," Carl replied.

"So what's this I hear about some Maquis trying to sue for peace with the Dominion?" Bayless asked.

"Not suing for peace dummy, it's more like trying to plead neutrality." Carl set his drink down.

"Looks like Ro is on her way over," Nash interjected.

"How'd it go?" Udeski asked.

Ro sighed as she signaled the bartender over.

"That bad?" Cooper raised an eyebrow.

"Our envoys saw two ships full of Federation prisoners while they were docked at Tral Kliban." Ro's eyes flickered to the faces of the five men.

"Tral Kliban, that Cardassian space station on the Cardassian side of the old Demilitarized Zone?" Cooper raised an eyebrow.

Carl said nothing, jaw clenched, eyes narrowing.

"What else did your envoys pick up?" Udeski asked before taking another pull of his drink.

"Rumor has it the Cardassians are building something big in Sector 283." Ro locked eyes with Udeski.

"What's this 'something big'?" Bayless asked.

"What do you think? An artificial wormhole…" Ro began.

"Is that even possible?" Nash interjected.

"With the resources of the Dominion and slave laborers…yes," Ro added.

"Bastards…" Carl's eyes narrowed, fists clenching and unclenching.

"Well, we're boned…maybe it might do the POWs some good to do some actual work…" Bayless snarked.

Carl turned around and punched him in the face.

"Bayless…you and me fucker!" Carl angrily shouted.

"Gladly…" Bayless snarled, wiping blood from his lip as the two men faced off.

Cooper sighed as he hefted his medical kit.

"Will both of you knock it off!" Ro groaned.

"You know our ways." Udeski raised an eyebrow.

"Yeah yeah. You have beef, you brawl it out without killing each other but for Prophets's sake…" Ro huffed.

Bayless had both fists clenched as he and Carl circled one another.

"Looks like Bayless wants to keep his distance and just blast Carl with those long jabs." Nash commented.

"Hey, bet you a couple credits on Carl," Cooper said.

"Bayless ain't no slouch. He knows he doesn't want Carl getting close. The man knows his takedowns," Nash countered.

Bayless threw a jab. Carl slipped his head to one side, but caught a glancing blow.

Bayless followed up with a hard right.

Carl ducked, shielding his face as he drove forward shoulder connecting with Bayless' abdomen as he grabbed behind Bayless' knees with his hands.

Bayless squatted down and pushed his legs back.

Carl gritted his teeth and pulled with his arms and pinched his elbows together. Turning his body to the left he drove Bayless to the ground.

Bayless landed on his side and Carl perched atop him, raining punches down.

"That's a good technical mount," Cooper observed.

"Bayless looks like he's trying to squirm out. If he can get his arms through…" Ro observed.

"Alright, both of you break it up!" Udeski shouted as he headed over with Nash to separate the two combatants.

Cooper pulled his medical tricorder from his kit as Nash and Udeski pushed the two fighters apart.

"It's the mercenary way. You settle beef then and there." Cooper glanced over his shoulder at Ro as he walked over to examine the two…

TBC