The mild ambient music mingled with the gentle rustle of the night wind in the rooftop garden. Kovar’s capital, New Hampton City, gleamed below in an ocean of lights, stretching out to the distant shoreline. High above the streets and gliding hovercars, a quiet rooftop had been transformed into an oasis of intimacy and meaning. Among the trimmed hedgerows and suspended orchid lights, a narrow pathway of white petals led to a modest altar beneath a latticework of flowering vines, softly glowing under overhead lanterns.

Captain Sandra McCord stood at the centre of the rooftop, looking every bit the dignified figure she was known to be. She wore an elegant, floor-length gown in deep midnight blue, with a gentle, scooped neckline that revealed a delicate, star-shaped necklace glinting like diamonds in the soft light; a pair of small, matching earrings complemented it. Her black hair was swept into a neat twist, with a few loose strands framing her face. A lightweight grey shawl resting around her shoulders completed the look. She was not performing duties as the Alcor Sector Judge Advocate General tonight. Instead, she was enjoying one of the few delights and privileges that her rank brought her.

In front of her, Orlando Radcliffe and Tom Hawkins stood hand in hand, the soft evening breeze tousling their hair and suits. Both men wore tailored civilian attire, consisting of matching dark blue suits and white shirts with silver ties.

“We are gathered here,” McCord began, her voice calm, clear and reverent, “to witness and affirm the bond of union between Orlando and Tom. This ceremony, under the laws of the United Federation of Planets, formalises a bond that has already withstood the test of time, danger, and distance.”

Orlando’s smile deepened. Tom’s fingers tightened slightly in his.

“I understand,” McCord continued, allowing a rare twinkle of amusement in her usually steely expression, “that this is not your first wedding together. That distinction goes to an unconventional event on Xandaria, overseen by a former Orion Syndicate crime boss who was a rogue Changeling. However, as Federation law does not recognise the legitimacy of that ceremony, at long last we’re here to get it right for these two!”

A ripple of laughter spread among the small gathering. Counsellor Lenara Taff chuckled audibly, her long Trill spots barely visible beneath the deep plum shawl she wore over her sleeveless dress. Doctor Jowain Parin stood beside her, the Ventaxian man grinning broadly, his ceremonial tunic catching the night breeze. Lieutenant Commander Jacinta Harper, clad in a sharply tailored navy-blue jumpsuit, smirked over the rim of her wine glass.

Radcliffe shot a sideways glance at Tom and murmured, “Still the most romantic extortion attempt I’ve ever been part of.”

Hawkins chuckled. “The flowers were good, though.”

“I can’t argue with the aesthetics,” Radcliffe replied.

McCord smiled gently and continued. “Tonight is about affirming love and commitment. About giving it the legal, emotional, and moral grounding that two people like you deserve. So, if you are ready, I will ask you to repeat your vows.”

The couple turned to each other, stepping forward, eyes locked. The city lights twinkled behind them, casting halos across their features.

Hawkins spoke first, his voice thick with emotion but unwavering. “Orlando, I promise you honesty in our chaos, compassion in our trials, and laughter even in our darkest hours. You are my partner, my home, and my peace.”

Radcliffe responded, voice warm and low. “Tom, I promise to stand by you through every mission, every mistake, and every miracle. You are my constant, my courage, and the best thing I’ve ever done.”

“Do you,” McCord asked, her voice softened by the sincerity of the moment, “Orlando Brody Radcliffe, take Thomas James Hawkins to be your lawful husband under Federation law, to stand beside him in all your days to come and his love?”

“I do,” Radcliffe said without hesitation.

“And do you, Thomas James Hawkins, take Orlando Brody Radcliffe to be your lawful husband under Federation law, to stand beside him in all your days to come and his love?”

“I do,” Hawkins answered with a huge grin.

McCord stepped back slightly, giving them space. “Then, by the authority granted to me by the United Federation of Planets, I now pronounce you legally married. You may kiss one another.”
Cheers and applause broke from their friends as Hawkins leaned in and kissed Radcliffe.

As the couple parted, still smiling, Parin let out a loud cheer. “Now that was worth waiting for a Vaadwaur invasion to be over!”

“Agreed, who knows when the next galactic event is about to pour down on us!” Taf remarked with a grin.

Harper stepped forward, handing Radcliffe and Hawkins two glasses of Bajoran spring wine. “A toast,” she said, raising her own glass. “To love that survives Orion smugglers, Federation bureaucracy, and a galactic war!”

Everyone laughed again and drank. The small rooftop garden was soon alive with light conversation and soft instrumental music piped in from a discreet audio system. Small tables with snacks, drinks, and a simple cake had been set up around the edges. Fairy lights blinked around the garden’s perimeter. It was a small, intimate gathering that Hawkins and Radcliffe had wanted to keep low-key. Not everyone was able to join them, but both of them had decided they couldn’t wait any longer.

When they returned from their mission on Xandaria at the end of last year, they asked McCord if their marriage was legitimate. After a few days of going through Federation law and speaking to others, she had advised them of the news that had brought them to this moment now. Briasyraa, the Orion woman who had performed their first wedding, had not submitted anything to officials on Xandaria as she had promised. It was no surprise to either of them. She was a liar, a thief and a Changeling who was trying to use her connections with the Orion Syndicate to start a war between the Federation and Romulan Free State. Though Federation law did not recognise their marriage, both Radcliffe and Hawkins had not been daunted by the fact that, in their hearts and minds, they were happily married. After returning to the station, they moved into shared quarters. However, after a few months, they had decided they wanted another wedding. It had been planned and was to become the social event of the year on Deep Space Nineteen. Admiral Jaret had gone all out, however, just as they were about to say their vows, the Vaadwaur had returned and had attacked the station. They never got the chance to stop and say, ‘I do’.

Now, with the Vaadwaur invasion concluded and things in the Alcor sector were calming down, the two of them, only a few days ago, had decided to go ahead with their wedding. While sharing drinks with their friends and comrades in the Clocktower Inn, Hawkins and Radcliffe had felt that a small-scale event was what was needed. They couldn’t wait any longer, so after a lot of last-minute planning, they would get the job done. And now they had finally done it.

After a few drinks had been passed around, McCord approached the newlyweds with a polite smile. “Gentlemen, I wish you every happiness. But I’m afraid I must excuse myself. As I said the other day, I have tickets to La Traviata at the Grand Opera Hall.”

Hawkins raised an eyebrow. “Italian opera?”

“One of the greats,” McCord said with a nod. “And my son, Albie, is performing tonight; he’s the pianist for the Archer Philharmonic. I don’t get to see him play often, and he ships out for Archer Four in the morning,” she offered a rare, warm smile. “I cannot miss it.”

“Then go enjoy the rest of your evening, ma’am, and please give Albie our best,” Radcliffe said genuinely. “And thank you again for officiating.”

“My pleasure,” she replied. “It’s not often I get to be part of something so joyful. Take care of each other and enjoy the rest of your evening.”

“We will,” Tom promised.

“So,” McCord added, adjusting her overcoat as she prepared to leave, “what are the happy couple planning for the rest of the evening? Something relaxing, I hope?”

Before either man could answer, Parin chimed in with a gleam in his eye. “Actually, they’re joining us.”

Hawkins blinked. “We are?”

“You are!” Taf laughed. “It’s all planned. Bar crawl across New Hampton City. First stop is a Klingon dive bar with a bloodwine tasting fight.”

“Followed by an Andorian jazz lounge,” Harper added. “Then a beachside Risian night club, if we make it that far.”

“We are absolutely making it that far,” Parin declared. “We’re celebrating your marriage the right way. Now it’s legal!”

McCord smiled indulgently. “Sounds like a night to remember. Just try not to get arrested. Or married again.”

“No promises,” Radcliffe quipped. “Thank you again, captain!”

With that, McCord departed, disappearing into the warm night air. She smirked to herself at the scenery she was leaving. Oh, to be young again, McCord thought as she walked down the spiral staircase off the garden rooftop and down towards the lobby. She was pleased that Radcliffe and Hawkins were finally married, and she was even happier that she could do the service for them. She knew that the admiral would have liked to have done it, or even Levy, but both of them were at the governor’s mansion. McCord knew that the newlyweds couldn’t wait for any more. She had been honoured to do it for them when they had asked her the other day. As she left the building and out into the city’s warm nighttime air, she saw her ride waiting for her. A black hover limousine stood with its pilot/chauffeur standing by one of the back doors. Albie, her son, had splashed out in organising her pick-up. Her chauffeur opened the door, a tall, young, handsome human man. She thanked him as she gracefully slid into the back of the limousine.

Glancing back at the top of the building she had just left, towards its rooftop garden, she hoped that the wedding she had just officiated would last forever, much longer than her marriage to Albie’s father. She hoped that both Radcliffe and Hawkins would be loyal to one another and that their careers would not affect their marriage. Unlike hers, where her time dealing with complex legal cases during and following on from the Dominion War, she had caught her husband, Nicholas, cheating on her with one of his subordinates. Though they tried marriage counselling, it didn’t change anything, and eventually they separated and divorced. That was one of her darkest chapters, but now she focused on her family, her children, and her grandchildren. When she got to see them in person, it was an absolute treat. Seeing Albie tonight perform was something she couldn’t let anything else get in the way of.

“Ready to get underway, ma’am?” The chauffeur asked after he got into the front. “The Opera House, yes?”

“Yes, please,” McCord smiled as she got herself comfortable, excited for the rest of the evening’s events.