Nash, My old friend

Posted on Tue Oct 24th, 2023 @ 2:22am by Lieutenant JG Remira "Remy" Johansen & Lieutenant Nash Winters

1,607 words; about a 8 minute read

Mission: Lockdown
Location: Deck 9, Galleria Bar
Timeline: MD 2 1000 hours

Remy Johansen, still in uniform, had just finished checking in for her new posting on Starbase Frontier. She was an intelligence officer who had spent plenty of her career undercover and at remote outposts. Frontier might as well have been Risa compared to a lot of places Starfleet had sent her before.

She grabbed a seat at the bar and was deciding what to order when she saw a face that she knew looked familiar. It had been a minute they served together, but she was trained to never forget a face. She walked over to where he was sitting and checked his pips for his rank.

"Lieutenant Winters, you probably don't remember me, we served on the Carlsbad together. Remy... well Remira Johansen. I was intel on the Carlsbad when you all were into some sneak shit. It's good to see a familiar face," she said with a smile.

Nash smiled back at the young woman who addressed him.
“Johansen…..Johansen… wait a minute…. Remy Johansen.
Remy Johansen?” He laughed out loud. They had met on the USS Carlsbad when he was Transporter Officer.
They had socialized with each other and several others on a regular basis.

“You look good, Remy!”, he said as they hugged warmly.
“I gotta tell you, I’ve always wondered what happened with you. We lost touch after you left. I’m sorry about that. What brings you to the station?”

"Nothing to be sorry about," Remy said shrugging it off. "Losing touch is kind of the nature of being intel. Always being sent off and locked down. It's great to see you. Nice to have an anchor when landing somewhere new."

It must've been something in the water, but Ukram crossed their table at the same time, another familiar voice for Nash cutting through the cacophony. He was holding a tray-he normally ate in his office in the Security room, but it was being cleaned currently and the only thing the Klingon hated more than eating in public was dust in his food. Gross.

He paused, trying to place the name. He ran through his mental fil-o-fax, thinking hard. Nope, couldn't place the face. Just the voice.

Winters paused as he was getting ready to say something to Remy. He saw a Klingon out of the corner of his eye. It couldn’t be. Could it? He hadn’t seen this Klingon in years.
“Hang on a sec, Remy. Must be reunion day on Frontier. Don’t go anywhere. I’ll be right back,” Winters said.

Nash nonchalantly got up from his chair, turning his body in the direction of the Klingon. He spoke loud enough to be heard from Alpha Centauri.

“What is that smell? Is this a bar or a waste extraction facility. It only got worse when you came in here,” Nash teased, getting closer and closer to the Klingon.

“You look like shit, you old targ!” Winters couldn’t wait to hear his reaction.

Ukram turned. He suddenly realized!

"Asshole!" He came out with, but the smile on his face belied his anger. "NASH! I knew I recognized the voice!! What brings you here?" He asked. "Can I sit with you? Is this pretty thing your wife?" He asked.

Ukram and Winters gripped each other’s forearms in a traditional Klingon greeting. “Good to see you, Ukram. I’m Chief of Operations here. Wait… is that a Starfleet communicator I see? Are you part of the Klingon contingent here on the station? That would be fantastic! No, she is not my wife. We know each other from a previous posting. We’re good friends.”

Ukram simply grunted. "Yes. I am close to retiring back to Kronos. Or wherever. I am stuck here until then," he said.

Winters introduced his friend. “Remy Johansen, Ukram of the House of Gocx,” Nash said enthusiastically.

Remy had been watching the interaction and was thankful a fight had not broken out. The two were obviously old friends.

"I haven't seen this guy in three years, maybe more?" Remy answered. "Please have a seat, I just got here yesterday and was glad to run into a friendly face. Call me Remy."

Ukram settled in. "Remy, nice to meet you. Winters and I have run into each other several times over the years," he said. "Sorry about my comment earlier. Why on EARTH would Winters be married, now that I think of it?" He razzed the man a little bit.

"Good question," Remy quipped. "Never known him one for commitment," she said winking at Nash.

“Ukram, who said anything about getting married? Enough about marriage already. Look, Ms. Johansen here and I served on the same ship a few years ago. That’s it. So tell me, old man, how is the House of Gocx? Still held in the highest honorable regard?” Winters asked as he waved the bartender over.

"As always," he said. "I know. It's called a joke, try it sometime. It's ok. I understand, friends are important." Especially out here, Gocx knew.

“Excuse me….bloodwine! 2385, on my tab. To my friends, Ukram and Remy!”

Ukram smiled. "Thanks!" He took the glass presented.

"I can drink to that, even though it's only what 1000 hours," Remy laughed. She studied the men and wondered if she should leave them be after a drink or two. They obviously had a history. She'd only known Nash for her brief stint on a Starship - not her usual gig.

“I’m just glad to see you both again. Now we’re serving together on the same station. You believe that?” Nash said as he took a gulp of the bloodwine. “Hmmm..very smooth just like I remember. Do you recall the first time you served me bloodwine, Ukram? I kept it down, but I nearly puked on your boots.”

Winters and Johansen burst out laughing, waiting for the Klingon to join in.

Ukram made a face but joined in the laughing. "I do. Can you hold your drink finally?" He asked. "What are you going to do with him, Miss Remy?" He asked, more or less jokingly. He knew they weren't a couple, but friends, and he meant it like he'd say to himself.

“Ukram….Remira, you don’t have to answer that. Isn’t that her business? Besides, nothing is going on with us. She’s my friend that I have not seen in about 6 or 7 years. That’s all there is,” Nash said, increasingly annoyed with this conversation.

"I said that I know that. Another joke, my friend. I see you're still far too serious," he said. "In my old age, I've found that it's important to cut loose sometimes. Never at work, no, but off hours? Certainly. You'll regret it when you're my age if you don't," the Klingon said.

"He's getting old," Remy joked. "We were on the same ship until around 3.5 years ago. So not that long," she said winking at the Klingon.

"And now they send you out here to this dump!" He sipped more of the wine, and dug around his plate with his fork. Ukram considered himself a more civilized Klingon-he had been around the fleet for about thirty years, on and off, through his duties with the KDF, and he had learned that mimicking them and their customs made it easier to make friends with them. "Miss Johansen, we're ALL getting old," he said, with a wink. The greying of his hair against his chocolate colored skin gave that much away.

"Please, this place is a vacation compared to some of the places I've been. Infiltration specialist," Remy clarified.

Ukram nodded, but started in on his burger while listening. "I see!! You're intel?" he asked, impressed that such a small woman was in that field. "And yeah. The KDF only sends it worse, unfortunately, for me to shape up and ship back out," he said, with a sigh.

"There's a lot of traffic out here. And the Tholians. Plenty of information to keep me busy. I blend in. People like to buy me drinks."

Ukram nodded. "I could see that," he said. "Must be a fascinating job. Why'd you leave for this dump?" He asked. "Myself? I used to be a doctor, believe it or not. I am here to ride out my last few years until retirement," he said.

Remy lowered her voice. "I go where I'm assigned. There's a lot going on out here," she subtly gestured out to the open space of the Galleria.

"What about you? What are you doing out here?" Remy asked.

"Biding my time until I retire," he said. "It was this posting, or a stint on one of our prison planets. I don't like that kind of thing, so here I am," he said. "The KDF works closely with the Federation here. It's a nice peace," he said.

“You’ll never retire, old man,” Nash interjected. “Your skills as a healer is absolutely beneficial, especially here. Brand new station, at the edge of the frontier, hence the name. I’m glad to have you here, Ukram. You too, Remy. We can look out for each other. Not that I’ll ever get to actually SEE either of you. I’ll be bogged down keeping this place running. But nevertheless, it’s nice to see you guys again.”

Ukram smiled lightly. "Oh, I will," he said. "But you're right, probably not next year, which is the current plan." He said. "This old warrior body won't cooperate forever.

“On that day, I promise to celebrate your glorious career at your side.” Winters raised his glass of bloodwine and saluted his friend.

RSS Feed