Captain's Quarters Happy Father's Day Dante Alighieri Knight

Posted June 24, 2019, 10:45 a.m. by Lieutenant Natasha Daye (Doctor) (Kate O'Neill)

Posted by Lieutenant Natasha Daye (Doctor) in Captain’s Quarters Happy Father’s Day Dante Alighieri Knight

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Captain’s Quarters Father’s Day 2019
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Natasha sat on the couch tapping her foot so hard her knee was bouncing. She had been waiting for officially three months for this. Unofficially Natasha had been waiting since she walked into her self defense tactics 101 course back at the academy. It had arrived a week ago and the talent needed to keep Dante from knowing was pure choreography. First, it was the arrival. The transporter technician had to be threatened with his life. Probably because he was a snot-nosed kid just out of the academy.

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Transporter room a week prior
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“Ma’am I can not just pretend this was not transported on the Captain’s ship. Regulations state,” Stanley stated trying to be firm.

“Oh stuff your regulations. This is not a neutronium bomb. It’s not drugs and even if it was I am a doctor so I could sign for it. You can see what it is,” she pointed to the registry again with a stabbing motion. “Are you telling me you are going to list it as coming on board?”

“Yes ma’am I am,” he said with a hint of a tremor in his voice. Natasha Daye was happy and fun and always had lollipops in her pocket. She had since she arrived on the ship. Kids got fruit. Adults got a fruit fusion made from vodka. It was not enough booze to get you tipsy but enough to give what she called a “flavor explosion.”

“You are going to do this or I swear to god you will be spitting and knocking three times for the rest of your life trying to find redemption because I will be on the left with the devil,” she said in an icy tone. The look on the man’s face clearly showed he had no idea what she had just said to him except that it was probably not flattering. Daye could give him that. Few people followed random traditions like her family from mother Russia and less with the vigor of those from the area near Siberia where her family came from since the first Russian lifted a glass of Vodka and said Nostrovia. Most cultures had a tradition for knocking on wood for good luck. Russian’s, however, took it one step further. When didn’t a Russian? They paired the knock with a symbolic three spits over one’s left shoulder to signify spitting on the devil who is always on the left. While Natasha didn’t actually spit she did the put put put sound to indicate it. She also wasn’t sure that Stanley understood she basically sending a curse on him. Curses were the things of primitive societies but all societies were built from some sort of primitive society.

“Lt. Gonzales did not spend the last 16 hours of her day flying from here to Outpost 42 and back for you to dork this up. She broke about ten intergalactic laws about speed and flew threw a pirate battle that ended in her not having a scratch but the pirates,” she stressed the last word loudly, “reported Izzy to the OP’s XO for flying to close to another ship,” Daye worked to keep her tone steady. “I,” Daye let her voice crack slightly, “had to spend an hour talking to Lt. Commander Jessica Teller about how yes I understood no one in their right mind does a site to site transport at full impulse when there is not imminent death involved. Do you know how flybys irritate those in command? Two officers put their careers on the line for this and you are gonna just not check this in,” she crossed her arms.

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OP 42 Duncan’s Quarters
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“Oh my god yes. That is so not a problem,” Lily said taking a sip of coffee as she looked at the dark haired woman on the screen. “I know he got the package last week sometime. It is huge,” she said casting a glance at the wooden crate sitting in the middle of the room. Whoever this Daye was, Lily knew she had to be special to Duncan. She had called a few times over the past couple of weeks and he was always excited to hear from her. Since he tended to sigh deeply when Lily left her shoes in the middle of the floor ad this package had involved walking around it to get to places in the science chief’s orders, whatever was in it had to be remarkable.

“You are amazing. I am so glad Duncan finally found someone who can get him to kick back ,” Natasha replied with a smile. “We will toast at my wedding and maybe I propose at yours?”

“I gotta go before Dante walks in but tell Duncan thank you. The pilot will be there in like ten minutes. See you guys in a few weeks.” With that, the comm call clicked off.

Lily leaned back in the chair and thought about what Daye said. Duncan hadn’t mentioned any wedding directly but Natasha seemed to think they were going as a couple. Glancing around the room Lily spied the time on the antique clock. “Oh sheets,” she said jumping to her feet. An hour ago this was doable but at this point, running might be involved. Maybe she should have chatted less with Daye. Jumping up she made her way to the bathroom.

“Baby,” she said hearing Duncan turn off the water. “You know that package that is sitting in the middle of the room,” Lily said playing with a nail waiting for him to emerge from behind the door.

“Nat called and she said a pilot will be here in about teh....eight minutes to get it. We need to have it ready for something called a site to site transport because there is a time crunch?”

Exactly six minutes later, they arrived at the transporter pad, out of breath but there soon enough to see a ship pop onto the edge of the sensor range.

“See I told you we would get here,” Lily pulled her hair back into a ponytail. Getting here involved a full-on run but the point was they made it.

=/\=Shuttle is ready for pick up=/\= a woman’s voice came over the console. It was calm and perky. As if she didn’t have a care in the world yet her speed made it seem like the ship was on a life or death mission.

“Is she slowing down,” Lily said looking at the blip that was coming at the Outpost like it was on an attack run.

“No. No I don’t think she is,” Duncan said through gritted teeth. Where Natasha found a hot shot pilot that was brave enough to do this he had no idea. What he did know was if he needed an extraction the only name he would request would be the one was listed on the ship’s registry.

“So she is not stopping. That is why Natasha said it was site to site,” Lily wore the expression of someone turning a light bulb on. “Are you....going to be able to transport it,” she started to doubt Duncan’s ability to this the way his finger was flying over the console. That and Duncan’s string of expletives about crazy Russian winters and Natasha Daye.

After making the calculation with half math and half luck, Duncan hit the transport button.

=/\=Got it=/\= was the only reply as the ship winked out of visual and then sensor range.

Lily smiled seeing the ship streak off and Duncan now relaxing slightly. “So,” Lily squeezed between Duncan and the console. Jumping up she sat on it and let her legs dangle swinging them in small circles. “You think you can site to site transport me for the next hour before work professor?” She wiped a drop of water away from his temple. They had left his apartment so fast Ducan had barely dried his hair but definitely did not style it.

“I love your hair this way,” she said running her hand through his hair making it stand up in spikes that fell every which way. “Makes you look dangerous, exciting,” Lily let the words roll off her tongue slowly as she played with his hair. Getting a mischevious grin she gave the door to the transporter room a side glance before locking eyes with him. “Wanna do something exciting,” she waggled her eyes with a devilish smile. “Don’t lock the door. You deserve a reward for helping a friend.” Her words were soft. Almost like a whisper as she spoke them and pulled Duncan towards her.

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Transporter room a week prior
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“Two..ma’am,” he said his voice breaking a bit more even though his face tired to retain the I am not doing this expression.

“Two,” she repeated and held up two fingers. “So if you want to piss off a couple of the Captian’s closest friends and ruin this then be my guest. Check it in and beda nikogda ne prikhodit odna,” she said in her native tongue. The blank expression let Daye translate. “Oh it just means trouble never comes alone.”

“Ma’am. My career will be in shambles if I get caught,” he pleaded.

“Oh you are young,” she waved it off. “Pfff if Dante got this ship you will be fine. Besides I am the mother of his kid. You think I can’t make him see reason. Now sign the open the door,” she said getting behind the package on the repulsors and starting to push.

Lt. Natasha Daye medical

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Operations Department
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“Are you nuts,” Lt. Jenkins said leaping to his feet as Natasha strolled in with the package. Stroll might have been a misnomer. Grunting and shoving was more like it with her forehead sweaty and her hair clinging in some spots like she had just had a workout. “What are you doing,” he snapped his fingers rapidly to some crewmen who immediately took over for her getting the package into the office.

“Finding a place to store this,” she said putting her hands on her hips as she breathed heavily. Even though the package was on a repulsor sled that had no friction against the ground, moving it around corners and as fast as she needed to was a workout in a half.

“Get her some water,” Jenkins ordered his men swinging a chair around for Natasha to sit in. Squatting down he looked at Daye a bit concerned. “Should I call medical,” he asked with his hand poised over his comm badge.

“No,” she looked at him like Jenkins said the most stupid comment of his career. “Why would you do that?” Natasha took the water still giving the operations duty officer the once over glance as her breathing started to slow down from the grunting pants she arrived as a respiratory rhythm. Her fingers went to her carotid artery as she too her pulse. People tended to give her grief about her hands-on approach to medicine however there were times like now that one didn’t have a tricorder and needed medical information. Well, situations like now and crash landings where you lost most of your equipment or could.

“Because Stanley called down here in a panic when you rolled this thing out of the transporter bay. Three other operations officers that I sent to help you, you turned down flat and you…well ....you are....enormous,” he finally shrugged it off. He and Daye had been friends for a few years now. He knew her well enough to know she wasn’t going to go all woman crazy and point out men shouldn’t comment about a woman’s body.

“In communist Russia, women worked the fields like this,” she said laying a hand across her stomach. At this point, her tummy had grown so large her hand was almost above her heart height wise. At seven months along it was expected.

“And you lost that war Ms. Hammer and Scythe,” Jenkins blurted out laughing. “Ever think your precious Soviet Union collapsed not because of an arms race but because you women got tired of us men telling you to go out there and plant the south forty?”

Daye liked Jenkins a lot. He came back at her with everything she threw at him. He never worried about boundaries in conversations like this. “Vee blah out dat part of Russian history,” she said in a thick accent. Typically her accent was only this thick when she was drunk, mad, or when being funny. Her accent was always there if you listened well enough but most people ignored it.

“I’ve blah ked vous out if you do dat again Ms. Daye,” he said in a thick accent drumming his fingertips together as if he was the villain of the year.

“No,” she got a semi-serious expression on her face as she shook her head slowly avoiding eye contact. “That was terrible,” she finally broke into a fit of laughing. “We don’t say vous,” her smile was large filling almost her entire face.

“And we also don’t move,” Jenkins looked over at his co-worker who yelled out a number. “Ninety-four,” he said and then did a double take. “Ninety-four pounds. Forty-two kilograms,” he repeated which one of the crewmen confirmed out loud. “What the hell do you think you are an ant? You weigh a buck and a half and the half of the half is baby Knight. No more,” he pointed a finger at her with a stern expression. “I’m serious. No more Adam Ant. If you want me to hide whatever that thing is from the cap then we move it when you need it. Agreed,” he stuck out his hand.

“You know women have been having babies since the dawn of time right,” Daye said shifting in the chair trying to get up. Without armrests for leverage getting up was proving to be a challenge. As she reached out to take Jenkin’s hand he pulled it back sharply.

“This is like a time out,” he laughed. “So agree or sit there. What’s it going to be Daye,” he playfully extended his hand back and forth.

“Fine but if Dante finds out I swear you will,”

“He is not going to find out anything. Did you find out he brought that chest from your home last shore leave? Nah I didn’t think so,” he shook his hand emphasizing the no. “This is not our first rodeo with you two.” Jenkins helped her to her feet. “Just tell us when you need it and where. We will get it to you,” Jenkins promised letting her hand go.

“Thanks,” she said resting her hands on her tummy before turning and walking out the door.

Lt. Natasha daye medical

Izzy pounded down the corridor, the helmet of her flight suit bumping against her knee as she jogged, hair still sweaty from the flight.

She skidded around a corner and spotted Day as she came out of a doorway.

“Did… it....get....here....in one piece?” She gasped out, having run from the flight deck where she’d been slightly delayed explaining both her flight plan and the disrupter burns the shuttle had acquired.

Izzy Gonzales - special delivery service

“Yes,” Daye said excitedly hugging the woman. Well, hugging was not quite the word. Daye embraced her but it looked more like Natasha was trying to straighten Izzy’s posture. Natasha’s hands made it to Izzy’s shoulders in an attempt to pull her forward but the protruding beach ball between them kept any real hugging contact. Dante was several inches taller and had to bend his body into a C shape to hug Natasha now. Since the two women were the same height, anyone, seeing them would instantly think middle school slow dance they way their bodies were rigid.

Natasha broke out laughing so hard her body shook. A second later she put the heel of her palm on the side of her belly and pushed really hard. “Hey settle down udar.”
The way she said it showed the moniker had a special meaning. Udar which sounded like ewwwwdah meant bump in Russian. It was what she and Dante called the baby for now. The way she was pushing into her side, however, made it seem like she was having an appendicitis. “You have sixty-nine days until you are handed your eviction notice so settle down,” she finally relaxed pushing after a second and looked up at Izzy.

“Half the time Udar thinks my ribs are a swing set. The other half he thinks my bladder is a jumping pillow,” she laughed. “So on day seventy, you wanna have a girls night. We Russian’s have incredible fortitude. I know an amazing spot on Gamma Tiltium that we can go to. That science chief who transported the package has a rustic cabin on the beach. It’s yours without or without me as a thank you.” Natasha didn’t give a thought about asking Duncan if she could rent out his cabin. She had known him enough years that he would hand the keys over without a question to her. To Dante, there would probably be complaining about Daye being a pain in the arse but Dante would simply remind Duncan that Natasha is his friend and it was his mistake forever in saying hello.

Glancing at the time Natasha groaned. “I gotta get to my duty shift but come by in a few days for the reveal of the package,” Daye said walking down the hall. Abruptly she stopped and spun back around. “Better make it a week. I am not sure it has directions still and Dante is no engineer.”

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Captain’s Quarters Father’s Day 2019
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“Come on Dante,” Natasha said annoyed looking at the clock. It was 2300 hours. In order to let the Dad’s of the ship have the day off when it was convienent for them, Dante had taken both the day and evening shift. The Pendragon only had a few real fathers on board and Dante himself had made sure they had the entire day off when creating the duty roster. The rest of the crew he had built in longer than average breaks and lunches for comm calls home to family. With the hundreds of planets and colonies in the Federation, making sure the crew had off times that coincided with that planet’s time schedule had given Dante a migraine but he did work it out. Next year he would add himself to the roster but without a real baby, Dante did not see the point to work a regular schedule. Natasha, however, was bound and determined to make sure udar had something for his Daddy.

Fifteen minutes after his scheduled arrival home Dante finally walked into the door. “Dah…Dah,” Natasha said excitedly trying to jump up to greet him. Her belly and he overly soft couch cushions had other plans. Like some alien marshmallow creature, the couch cushions took on a life of its own and seemed to wrap themselves about her body. Each time she tried to get up, they sucked her back down.

“Ugh. Dah....tay,” she grunted sliding forward some attempting to go off the front of the couch. Unfortunately, this only put her on her back with her feet out as if she were preparing to do some crab walk or imitate a table in charades. “Ughhhhhh,” she moaned louder. “Tot, kto skazal, chto beremennost’ - eto magicheskiy opyt, dolzhen byt’ zastrelen (whoever said pregnancy is a magical experience should be shot),.” Natasha was finally annoyed enough to revert to full Russian instead of English. When this happened Dante had learned to intervene to save someone or do everything he could to calm her down.

Seeing Dante standing over her she raised a single finger in the air. “Don’t,” she warned in a stern voice. “You did this to me. Right now I am not a fan so stand back until I get up.” To call Natasha stubborn would be akin to calling a Vulcan logical. Dante had been with her long enough to find humor in this rather than overly sympathetic concern. All she had to do was say help and he was there but Natasha asking or help would be like a Klingon delivering double sauced chocolate pudding to a new neighbor.

“I can....dooo..iiiiisssss. Just roll my butt,” Natasha said twisting the top of her body over towards the cushions. From crab to now over the turned turtle trying to right itself, Natasha just needed a push to get to where she was in control of the situation.

Now on her belly, while uncomfortable, she was finally able to slide off the couch and to her knees on the floor. At this point, she gave up. Extending a hand, she let Dante pull her to her feet. Once she was upright, Daye shook out her hair which now resembled a hairdo she earned riding shotgun on a motorcycle throughout the Italian countryside. “I hate not being able to see my toes, being able to get up, having to pee every ten seconds,” she sighed looking up at Dante.

Looking up at him she smiled and wrapped her arms the best she could around Dante. “So ready for your Father’s Day gift,” Natasha wiggled her eyebrows with a huge grin. Nodding her head to the side Nat pointed to the large pink present with blue ribbons and bows.

Natasha stood back as Dante began to pull back the paper revealing a large oak crib. It was stained a dark walnut with intricate carvings into the wood. It was also in pieces. The only way Dante would know what it was, was that he had spent enough time in back in Russia to know it was Natasha’s childhood crib. “So,” she said coming up and rubbing his back. “You ready to do some woodworking? Dedushka is has been waiting all day to help you. Over the comm of course but ready.”

Lt. Natasha Daye Medical

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