Dash and Clash
Posted on Thu Apr 30th, 2026 @ 7:49pm by Lieutenant JG Caitlyn MacRae & Lieutenant Bartholomew Hale
1,373 words; about a 7 minute read
Mission:
Friends and Traitors
Location: Starbase 310, Replimat
Timeline: Mission Day 1, 1600 Hours
Bartholomew scowled. He scrolled through Commander Hudson's report. With the most diplomatic phrasing, every sentence. Every word. Every single syllable was a damning indictment. The man who failed to see through a terrorist organisation taking hold. Who'd tolerated violence against innocent civilians. Who couldn't see his subordinates had become turncoats.
Pathetic.
"Lieutenant Hale," came Captain Franklin's voice through his combadge, echoing through the sparsely crowded replimat, "It's Captain Franklin. Can you hear me?"
Hale rolled his eyes and dragged his hand to his combadge. "Yes... I can hear you, Captain Franklin."
"Lieutenant, I've sent through your orders. Captain Norsgaard is expecting you. Don't disappoint. Again. Franklin out."
Hale threw the pad on his tiny dining table in the spaceport of Starbase 310. It slapped the bare metal tabletop with a crack. He pinched the bridge of his nose and glared into an insipid bowl of pumpkin soup. The replicators had produced a watery, flavourless, lukewarm container of gruel barely suitable for a Lissepian prison hulk.
He gingerly went in for another sip, then, spoon-in-mouth, looked across at a nearby table occupied by a group of Ensigns. He blinked slowly at them like a predator stalking its prey. His spoon returned to the soup.
"What are you lot looking at?" Hale demanded loudly.
The youngsters looked quizzically amongst themselves. One of them spoke up; a kid, cropped hair, chiselled jaw, teal uniform. "Are you talking to us... sir?"
"Yeah, I'm talking to you!"
They continued to look bemused. In a moment of weakness, one made the mistake of cracking a smile. What had this kid heard?
"Are you okay, sir?" The young man asked Hale.
"Yeah, I'm alright, ya peanut. How about you? Can't a man eat his dreadful soup in peace?" A beat. Then he stood and threw the napkin in his lap straight into his soup. Across from him, the gaggle of junior officers gawked, eyes large. They were terrified. Hale took a breath, feigning senility by looking around like a lost sheep. "Uh, sorry, gentlemen, I'm... uh... I'm not feeling well."
Yes, that one worked well for another Lieutenant he knew. They just blinked back at him.
"Uh," he struggled. He gathered his PADDs, threw his bag over his shoulder and hoofed it from the Replimat. "Toorah!"
Hale strutted off across the spaceport with a pleased look on his dial.
Until.
His body stopped short. PADDs went flying, he stumbled back. "Ahh! Good heavens!"
He looked up and saw a woman recoiling from the collision. She looked like she'd borne it better than he.
Moments before, Lieutenant MacRae had been making her way back to the Thunderbird having secured a safer and more comfortable home for Minx than the inner workings of a Starship. The kitten had looked at her with the saddest of eyes but she had actually considered changing her mind… for a whole ten seconds.
So now, safe from potentially starting on a long road to become the village Cat Lady, she had made her way back to the station. Of all the things she could be doing on her lunch, a mission of mercy had not been on her agenda.
It was on her way back that she heard the raised voice, and the somewhat bizarre scene. She watched the apparent source of the problem get up and make his exit.
Right into her path.
And no, she did not budge.
As so they collided, she was braced for it while he was not. She wasn’t sure he even saw her, at least not at first. She watched the PaDDs scatter on the floor but quickly turned her attention to the man who had walked into her. “Sorry about that,” she offered, kneeling to scoop up the PaDDs and handed them back. “I guess I was distracted by the person acting like an idiot… maybe you saw him too? Tall, beard, kind of angry?”
Hale looked around as he dusted himself off; behind him, behind her, to the left and to the right. He couldn’t spot anyone who would’ve been an issue. He tugged his uniform back down over his bulky frame. “Hmm, no, I must’ve missed him. Alas, I’m more concerned with the victim of my wayward traversal. I was like a stallion with his blinders on. Are you alright?”
Missed him… right. “Fortunately for you I can take a hit and I’m fine,” she assured him. “Lieutenant…?”
“Relieved to hear you’re unharmed, ma’am. I’m Hale, Bartholomew Hale,” he replied, tucking his PADDs under his arm with the grace of Bambi learning to walk for the first time. He extended his free hand. “To whom do I owe the pleasure?”
There was a flicker of recognising at the name. Hale, a new addition to the crew… but instead she said, “like in the Simpsons?”
Her youngest brother had been obsessed with the classic cartoon - although frequently had a tantrum when she called it a cartoon - but she wasn’t sure this newcomer would get the reference. Maybe he would. Either way she shook his hand, adding, “Lieutenant Caitlyn MacRae. Second Officer aboard the Thunderbird which, if I’m not mistaken is where you are supposed to be already?”
“Pleasure to make your acquaintance, Lieutenant MacRae. Well met, indeed.” Hale bowed slightly. “I was in fact, just on the way to report in, I only just had my orders confirmed moments ago. The fleet had me wrapping up my last assignment. No such thing as a clean break. Alas, life waits for no one, and it points me toward the Thunderbird. I don’t suppose you’re headed that way?”
“I am,” she nodded, gesturing for him to follow. “I just popped over to return a stray. Kitten, not person. It managed to somehow find its way aboard. So… looking forward to your new assignment?”
"It will be good to be on a starship once again... it's been too long," Hale smiled. The two made stride. "So a kitten?"
“Yes. I named it Minx, which seems apt since it decided to not go quietly,” she sighed, glancing down at the scratches on her hand and wrist. Nothing the medical staff couldn’t fix in a heartbeat. “Always a bad idea to name them… but it was cute and I couldn’t keep saying ‘it’. That just felt cruel. So yeah… a kitten.
You said again… take it you were on a base or planet side before this?” She added.
"Yes, I had a five-year tour with the Inspector General on Earth. Until a few days ago, I was a colony administrator." Hale replied. "Starships have mostly been taxis. Have you served on the Thunderbird for long?"
“No. I came aboard during the last mission to support with an investigation and then Captain Norsgaard offered me a position… so I stayed,” she told him as they reached the security checkpoint. She slowed, knowing the guards would need to review the Lieutenant’s orders to ensure he could board.
Batholomew handed over the isolinear chip that held his orders. The duo of gold shirts checked it over and scanned his palm. As they scrutinised his particulars, Hale turned to MacRae. “A investigation? Most interesting. What’s your background?”
“Intel,” MacRae answered as Security gave them approval to proceed. “I have some things to take care of but you should go check in with the Captain. I’m sure he’ll be have you aboard. It’s a good crew, but a few of us are fairly new additions. I’m sure you’ll do great.”
“Me too!” Hale grinned. On the inside, his heart was pounding in his chest. It must’ve been the feel of the variable gravity playing. Hale and McRae went to part, and but he quickly held up a finger and jogged back to the vessel’s second officer. “Just one other thing. Anything I should know about the Captain?”
Already moving away, Caitlyn turned back to face him. “Just be yourself, be honest and you’ll be fine,” she assured him.
Lieutenant Caitlyn MacRae
Second Officer
USS Thunderbird
Lieutenant Bartholomew Hale
Chief Flight Control Officer
USS Thunderbird
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