Harlow couldn’t help the smile that curved her lips as she left the TFCO’s office. The Interceptor turned out to be Inquiry class, which would be a change from the Sherwood, an older Reliant class. The transfer and assignment orders already transferred over to her personal padd and she was reading through transfer requests as she walked.

She headed down to the docking levels. Her belongings had already been forwarded to the quarters on the base she’d been assigned for tonight, but she was eager to get aboard and get to know both her new ship, as well as her new crew.

But before that… her smile widened as she spotted a familiar name pop up at the bottom of the list. Quickly, she checked the officer’s location and then tapped her comm-badge.

“Captain Mason to Lieutenant Cavendish… What’s a guy like you doing in a nice place like this?”

Jayce Cavendish, Cav to pretty much everyone, grinned as the comm came through as he was walking through the arrivals hall, a large pack over his shoulder. He winked at a pretty ensign, smiled at the blush in response and answered.

“Well, I heard a certain captain had ended up with a sweet little Inquiry class and figured I’d see if I could blag a ride. That or stop you blowing the thing up this time.’ 

He found the nearest bank of turbolifts to head up to the docking ring. It didn’t matter to him that he was still unassigned. He was heading to the Interceptor anyway. Mason wouldn’t refuse him, he knew that as sure as he knew eggs were eggs.

Sure enough, his padd quacked at him and he dug it out of his pack, ignoring the looks from the other occupants of the turbolift. His little brother had changed the notification tone to a duck and he hadn’t changed it back. It made him smile every time he heard it, and any reminder of home was welcome.

“Seriously, a girl blows one little ship up,” Mason drawled over the comm, and he could hear the smile in her voice. “And she’s never allowed to forget it.”

“You know I got your back, boss. Like always. And it looks like command have forgotten. The Interceptor looks absolutely bow-chicka-wow-wow… I can’t wait to test her limits.” He chuckled in reply as he flicked the padd on.

Transfer request for the USS Interceptor approved. Assignment: Chief Helm Officer. Report aboard at your earliest convenience.

“Safe limits,” Mason threw back. “Remember I know how you fly.”

“And that’s why you love me, boss.” The lift pinged at the docking level and he waited for the others to disembark before striding out.

A tall figure was waiting for him, leaning against one of the balustrades as she looked down at the levels below. He slid a glance over her before she turned to look at him.

Captain Mason was… impressive wasn’t the word. Tall, like amazonian tall, she didn’t have an ounce of spare fat on her, and he knew there were scars under that captain’s uniform. He’d seen them in the gym when she was working out. They were scars from something brutal. She’d been blown up or shot at one point, or both. He wasn’t sure where or how, but lived in hope that one day she’d tell him. What he did know was that she had more than standard starfleet combat training. Anyone who moved with a rifle like she did had some history…

She straightened up to her full height and turned before he reached her. He got the full force of that intense gaze and suppressed the shiver that rolled down his spine. Yeah, having a crush on his commanding officer at his age wasn’t something he was about to admit to, but… he did. Big time.

“Well, well…” She smiled broadly. “Lookit what the cat dragged in. Ready for this?”

He grinned as he fell into step beside her. “With you boss? Always.”

And he meant it. Crush or not, there wasn’t a captain in the fleet he trusted more.