A Colonel's Pride

Posted on Wed May 27th, 2015 @ 3:17am by 2nd Lieutenant Robert Lancaster
Edited on on Wed May 27th, 2015 @ 3:28am

Mission: Prelude to War
Location: Pilot's Quarters, USS Dromodon
Timeline: 2345 Hours, day of the treaty between the Dominion and the Romulans

[ON]

"No word on when you leave yet, Lieutenant?" Colonel Bradley Lancaster stared across light years through the viewscreen. The man was, despite his age, still the regulation-perfect marine that Bobby had always known. The closely-cropped hair was more grey than dark now, but those steely eyes were just as hard and demanding as ever. Bobby had always had a mixed feelings of both intimidation and inspiration, looking at his uncle, in varying and ever changing amounts over the years.

Right now, the sight of his mentor was giving him a lot of strength, something the worried young man needed. Bobby had engaged in numerous actions against the Maquis over the last few years, but war was something else entirely, as both his father and his uncle had drilled into him. It seemed almost inevitable now, that the Federation would be at war soon. With the shocking revelation that the Romulan Star Empire had entered into a treaty of non-aggression and friendship with the Dominion, those strangers from across the galaxy, scuttlebutt onboard the Domodon had it as only a matter of time now.

"No sir," Bobby replied crisply and clearly. One did not mutter their responses to Colonel Lancaster, ever. "Only that we've been assigned to the 242nd. We're still waiting on where that's going to be. I suppose it's to be expected, sir, we only just had news of the treaty this morning." One also didn't refer to him by his first name, or by their relation to one another. It just didn't seem right, and even when he'd been a teenager, Bobby had only ever called him 'sir', or by his rank.

Colonel Lancaster grunted, "Typical Starfleet Operations bureaucratic delays. I'd get my bags packed and rifle ready, if I were you, Lieutenant. Chances are, they'll spring it on you and give you barely enough time to manage." The older man had never held much of a high opinion for the naval branch of Starfleet, something Bobby didn't get but never dared to speak up in opposition to. Everyone served, in their own way, in Starfleet the young pilot figured, and it wasn't for someone as low-ranked as him to pass judgement on. "Been keeping up on your phaser-training? I got a feeling you're going to need it soon, maybe as much as you'll need your crack-pot and foolish maneuvers."

Bobby flushed, ever so slightly, but he was getting better at it. There had been many times when he'd been on the harsh side of his uncle's tongue, getting a dressing down for some foolhardy stunt he pulled in the cockpit before being PT'd mercilessly. Each time, he'd made a vague promise that both men knew he'd be unable to keep. No matter how many times he'd been talked to about it, even by commanding officers like Captain Aamas, Bobby was always trying something new and likely with no small amount of danger and risk involved. He couldn't seem to help it. There was something about being in such communion with his fighter, that he could fly it like an extension of his own body rather than some cold and unfeeling machine, that made him feel so powerful and daring.

"Yes, sir, I have. I just recently qualified at Level 13." There was a touch of pride in Bobby's voice, and seeing the glint of approval in the colonel's eyes made him smile too. Colonel Lancaster was a hard man to impress, but when he could manage it, it filled him with a great deal of warmth. "I don't know if I'll get to go on many missions outside of my fighter, Colonel, but I'm ready." I think.

"Good. We Lancasters, we've always been warriors, and now it's time for you and Tom to step up and do your part too. We've fought the Cardassians before as well, so it seems only fitting that you boys will be out there on the front lines taking them on yourselves. I'm sure once your new ship's captain sees your qualifications, Lieutenant, both as a pair of boots on the ground and as a phaser in the sky, he'll know to put you right into the thick of things. You have too much skill to just sit in a fighter all damn day."

It was far more praise than Bobby had ever heard the man give before, and while his pride swelled at it, he also felt worried by it. Things must be really serious if Colonel Lancaster was speaking so surely about the coming fight but it was more than that as well. The young man stared across the distances that separated them, wishing that his weak empathic abilities could actually work from this far away, but there was no way he could sense anything from a man back on Earth while the Dromodon was out here near the Badlands. Bobby couldn't put his finger on it at first, but suddenly realized something shocking. His uncle was worried.

Bobby sat up just a little straighter in his seat, but in reality there was little more stiffening of the spine that he could manage, having come to attention in his chair the moment he'd seen who was calling, "Yes, sir. I won't let you down, Colonel. Not you, not my father, or the Federation." There was a hitch in his voice though, a crack of the confidence that the young warrior that was usually so easy to come by.

His uncle's features softened, just slightly, and there was a hint of a smile on his lips but it was a sad one, "I know you won't. I'm proud of you, son, and so is General Lancaster. You make sure you contact him soon, before you head out. He and your mother would love to hear from you. I'm also sure you won't let us down."

It took a moment for Bobby to get his emotions in check, but he kept his chin high and his eyes on the other's as he did so. A Lancaster never lowered his eyes, he'd been taught, and could take a compliment - no matter how rare they were. "Aye, sir," Bobby answered properly, with a good snap to his voice now. He meant it for both parts, that he would obey and call his parents as soon as he was able to, and that he would live up to his uncle's expectations.

"Well, I need to be going, Lieutenant," Colonel Lancaster said, glancing at a chronometer offscreen somewhere. "Dammed conferences and meetings. I miss the days when I was out there on the front lines myself. You keep your head down and your eyes open."

"Colonel?" Bobby blurted out quickly, before the connection could be broken. The older man had given him an opening, and he knew he ought to use it, not for his own sake, but for his cousin's. "I know Tom would appreciate a chance to speak with you too, whenever you get a chance." It spoke volumes that Colonel Lancaster had called his nephew and not his son. There wasn't exactly bad blood, but the difficulties they had with one another had only slowly lessened over the years. Being in the middle of it had often made Bobby uncomfortable, but sometimes he did what he could to try to bridge the gulf between his cousin and his mentor.

Colonel Lancaster nodded slightly, "I will, Lieutenant. Whatever else, I'm sure he needs another reminder about protocol." Once, that might have been said with all seriousness and not a small amount of disappointment on the colonel's part. Now, Bobby could tell, there was more pride and even some wry amusement lurking behind the rigid demeanor. "It's late there, Lieutenant. Get some sleep., and we'll talk again soon."

"Aye, sir," Bobby replied, even as the connection was severed and his uncle's face was replaced with the Seal of the Federation. True to the orders he'd been given, even from a man so many light years away, the pilot didn't waste any time doing anything else. A quick change out of his uniform and Bobby was in his rack, eyes closed, trying to find a way to fall asleep. It was hard though. He was going to war.

[OFF]

2nd Lieutenant Robert Lancaster
Fighter Pilot
USS Dromodon