“Computer, access subspace communications system.”
“User recognized: Rachel Olivarez. Standard access level granted.”
“Call Miguel Olivarez, Earth Station McKinley.”
“Establishing subspace communications link, stand by.”
“Miguel Olivarez is unavailable.”
“Mmm. Okay. Computer, take a message instead.”
“Ready.”
“Hi Miguel, it’s Mom. Just wanted to see how you were. Your dad and I are headed out to Deep Space 17, so talking might be less possible as we get further out. Call us soon! I wanna see little Eva before she suddenly grows up. Message us back! Computer, send message.”
“Processing…message compiled and sent to Miguel Olivarez at Earth Station McKinley.”
Rachel Olivarez rose from the small desk in the center of her and Lucas’s quarters, and walked over to the replicator. “A glass of malbec,” she ordered, and the replicator presented one stemless glass half full of perfectly-tempered malbec wine.
Rachel lifted the glass to her nose and savored the aroma, swirling the liquid around to see how it attaches to the glass. She took a sip. Just as she expected: close to the real thing, but just not quite. At least her replicator programming to make it truly alcoholic held.
Rachel was in the middle of another sip when the doors to the quarters swooshed open. Rachel turned around to see her husband trudge through the door with a small duffel of tools.
“Long day, amor?”
“Yeah, kinda,” Lucas Olivarez breathed, dropping his duffel. He walked over to Rachel to give a light peck on her cheek. “Malbec?”
“Yes, want one?”
“Today’s an añejo day.”
“Computer, tequila añejo, on the rocks.”
Rachel retrieved the next beverage and handed it to Lucas, who took a sip and immediately relaxed.
“I do wish I’d grabbed those bottles from our condo before we left,” Lucas said. “Good enough, though. But, I hear Kris over at Eightball has some good stuff in stock.”
“I’m surprised we haven’t gone over there more,” Rachel replied.
Lucas took another sip. “Well, we’ve got a few weeks to explore the bar, amongst other things. How was your day?”
“Fine, I suppose. Tried to call Mig, but he was busy. Sent him a message, hopefully he calls back soon.”
“Well, corazón, I’m sure he’s got his hands full, what with his yard engineer job. Did you call any of the other kids?” Lucas asked, taking another sip.
“Not yet. I should before we get too far away.”
“It’ll be fine. You raised some hella good kids, Rache.”
“Thank goodness they all turned out alright.” Rachel sipped her wine. “Hey, you’re home early.”
“Yeah. Engineering’s in good hands. Captain said I could cut out a bit earlier. Was a bit touch-and-go about two hours ago but we’re good.”
“What happened?”
“Well, Bridge ordered warp five, but the core wouldn’t give enough power for anything beyond warp two-point-seven. Captain had us go anyway but wanted it fixed en route and today.”
“Did you fix it?” Rachel asked.
“I figured out what the problem was, but…I want these kids to learn how to run a Cali-class and figure it out on their own. Didn’t take them long–bright set of kids these days. You remember Ian and Xenn?”
“Sure! They came to that dinner before leaving starbase the first time, right?”
Lucas nodded. “That’s them. Turns out the captain’s preferred calibration factor needs more calibration after the core sits at flight idle for a few weeks. They picked up on that real fast. Fixed the issue in less than an hour. Gonna have to tell the captain his preferences might not be the best long term.”
“Do you think he’ll like having his preferences questioned?”
Lucas took another sip of tequila. “We’ll see. He may be fine, engineer to engineer, so long as he doesn’t come making personal adjustments every morning.”
“I’m sure Commander Park means well.”
“Sure, but…like I said, we’ll see. I mean, he got pulled from engineering right into command. I get it–hard for a guy like him to not be hanging around in Main Engineering rather than the Bridge. But, we all gotta do our actual jobs to make this ship work.”
Lucas drank the rest of his tequila. “Hey, I hear the chef is doing hibachi down in the Commissary tonight. Beats staying in, what do you say?”
Rachel finished her wine in kind. “Yes! I want that shrimp he’s famous for.”
“You think he’ll aim it right this time and not fling it into one of Joe’s eyes?”
“It’ll be a show no matter what. Let’s go.”
Lucas and Rachel put their glasses back into the replicator slot, and Rachel touched a button to recycle the glassware. Lucas offered his arm, and Rachel accepted as they walked out of their quarters together, on their way to dinner and a show…of sorts.
