The next day Ingram found himself heading back to the beach bar in the early afternoon. He had chatted with Petras for about an hour before a few customers arrived and he had taken his leave. They had discussed their heritage and Petras life story mostly. It had turned out Petras was the son of Hermes’ illegitimate son Georgios, a reknowned conman and trickster who hadn’t been seen on Earth since the late 22nd century. Petras himself was 206 years old, and like Ingram, had only found out he was an Olympian after suffering what shoykd have been a life ending injury, and in the following decades he noticed wasn’t aging like the other humans in his life.

“Heya kiddo.” Oetras hollered as unloaded a few cases of ale and spirits from his repulsor sled and placed them on the bar.

“Busy night last night?” Ingram inquired as his father began restocking his beer fridge.

“Yeah, did pretty well, a bunch of tourists from a corporate retreat found out I sell drinks for the half the price they sell ’em for in the resorts.”

“In that case I’m suprised your not busy all day every day.”

“Oh I could be, but I keep my regular hours and have my regular customers, everything on top of that is just a bonus for my retirement fund…so hey, I never did ask you yesterday. Ever figure out if you inherited any of grampa’s powers?”

Vaughn thought about it for a minute while Petras cracked open a beer bottle for each of them, “Thanks, uh apparently I’m resistance to heat and cold and I can survive on limited amounts of oxygen for a few days without doing.”

“Hmmm,” Petras grunted as he took a swig from the bottle, “those are more like species traits, I mean powers, like flying, or controlling the element or forces of nature.”

“No, I haven’t, I wouldn’t even know where to start.” Ingram to a big gulp from the cold beer.

“Well then, lets go see if you got my gift of flight then.” Petras said as he grabbed his beer walk out onto the large sandy beach.

Ingram followed his old man a few hundred feet down the beach until they were across from a large grassy knoll that jutted out into the ocean with a eighty or ninety foot little bay in them and it.

“See that, lets you can make the jump.”

“Where, that little peninsula there? That’s more than a hundred feet away, what do you mean jump?”

“Just run and jump, see if you can make it.” Petras said as he finished his drink and set the bottle down in the sand.

Ingram did the same, and then looked at the knoll and ran jumped. And landed in the sand a few feet in front of him, tripped, and fell flat on his face, “this is stupid,” the pilot said as he got up and wiped the sand off.

“Not the worst first try I’ve ever seen. Now this time, stop thinking that you can’t do it. Do it like this.” Petres turned and darted toward the knoll, leapt and soared 30 feet high across to the knoll, landing on his feet 110 feet away. The black haired Greek then turned and waved Ingram over.

Maybe it was the cool breeze that kicked up off the ocean, or maybe it was the beer he had just chugged, but on only his second attempt Ingram launched himself into the air, maybe 20 feet high and he began to fly towards his father on the grassy out cropping in a long parabolic arc. When he was the mid point of his flight he realized that he was flying, and that it was working. But then his trajectory began inexorably sinking and he eventually landed in the middle of the small bay with a splash.

As he surfaced he could he could hear his father laughing and whooping in the distance.

As Ingram swam back the shore his father was waiting for him at the waterline.

“Chip off the old block eh. Nice work sonny boy. Lets go grab a few more drinks and see if we can figure out any other skills you might have inherited.”

At the end of the next day of hanging out with his father at his tiki bar, the two were sitting on a nearby row of lounge chairs.

“So you’re a bigshot pilot for Starfleet hmm?” His father asked.

“I don’t know about bigshot, but they gave a me a wing on one of the newer carriers.” Ingram replied as he sipped his drink.

“I served two different tours myself. Did a 5 year hitch aboard the Lexington, uh, the old Connie class one, back in the 2240s, made contact with the Tholian almost gotten eaten by massive space whales and other creatures on a handful of occasions, I made it all the way up to Petty Officer 3rd class.”

“Is that right? Well Starfleet could definitely still use someone with your experience, we’ve been having personnel shortfalls for a few years.” Ingram replied, having gotten to like his real father after getting to know him for a few days.

“Nah, no way, not after my second tour, signed on for a 2-year Limited Duty Officer job as a sensor operator for a border patrol ship in the early 2310s, ended up being there for the entire run up to and conclusion of the Tomed Incident. It was a massacre, that the Federation Council helped facilitate. When they finally declared the ‘Emergency’ over and let us actually go home, I said I was done with the lies and state propoganda. Even during the Dominion War recruiters we always around telling us do our duty to defend the Federation. If the Jem’hadar had made it here, then sure, I would’ve fought ’em but I’m not into taking orders from some idiot on the Federation Council, or some out of touch Admiral. I wanna live life on my terms…so how long are you sticking around for sonny boy?” Petras had used the term frequently the past few days, seemingly as though he had embraced his estranged offspring.

Ingram shrugged, “Leaving tomorrow actually, gotta meet up with our ship for some Exercises before we head off on a mission out just past Freecloud.”

“Oh, well, yeah it was great meeting you then kiddo. Make sure you stay in touch. Out past Freecloud you say…” Petras voice trailed off as Ingram finished his drink.

“Yeah patrolling some unclaimed territory and the Romulan border most likely. If you change your mind let me know, I could probably help you find a posting.” Vaughn stood up and stretched.

“Same to you, if you ever want to leave the service and come hang with your old man, I’m starting up a new of Para-Jet tour in a few months. Fly around the island show all the tourists the old ruins.” Olympiakos laughed as he sensed his son was about to leave.

“Sounds like fun, but yeah, I should probably head back to the resort, find something to eat and get packing. It was nice to finally meet you pops.” The men shook hands.

A day later Ingram met up with a sunglass wearing, and obviously hungover Deego in the lobby of their resort, packed and ready to return to duty.

“You doing alright Lt?” He snickered.

“Yeah, I might have party’d a bit too hard on my last night of vacation, not gonns lie. But I couldn’t help myself, it’s not like I could say no, when Lorn and Dorn are buying you drinks all night.” The young Ferengi replied.

“Wait you were parting with Lorn and Dorn last night? The rich, Lurian party animals?” Ingram picked up his bags and they began walking back to the beamout point.

“Yeah they actually live in the Penthouse of the hotel for a few months every year. We got hot at the dabo tables in the casino a couple nights ago and we’ve been hanging out ever since. They even offered me a job as a consultant if I never leave Starfleet.”

“So, should be expecting your resignation some time soon?” Ingram asked.

“No way, I could barely keep up with them for a few nights, I could only imagine the hangovers I’d have if I worked for them.”

T’sen beamed back aboard the Imjin a few minutes after Ingram and Deego.

“Howdy Chief, how was your vacation?” Vaughn asked.

“It was refreshing. I was able to complete both studies I had planned, and aside from the one night where I was detained in the local Provosts cell, the accommodatations were more then satisfactory.” The blue and bald hybrid woman replied.

“What? What were you detained for?” Deego interjected.

“The arrest records state that I was arrested for conspiracy to commit assault and counseling mischief, though I predict the charges will be downgraded if not entirely dismissed. I have been released on bail with no condition, so we may depart at any time.” She said flatly with a simple nod.

“Sounds like there’s a whole lot more to that story Chief?” Ingram turned from his seat at the pilots console.

“As the matter is still before the courts, it would be entirely inappropriate for me to comment any further. How was this leave period for you two sirs?” T’sen said, trying to change the subject so she wouldn’t have to retell the story of night she was conducting her study of the inhibition reducing and analgesic effects of alcohol on sentient mammalian species.

“I guess everyone’s entitled to their privacy. I’m going to find a bunk to sack out for a few hours, wake me up if you need any relief, Commander.” Deego made for the rear compartment of the runabout.

“Roger that Lt. We’re just over a day and a half out from Tranquility. We’ll be right on time for the start of the exercises.” Ingram replied as he plotted a course out of orbit.