CHAPTER THIRTY

“I should have known it from the very start…

this girl will leave me with a broken heart.

“Now listen people what I'm telling you

A-keep away from-a Runaround Sue.”

- Dion

Commander (soon to be Captain) Susan T. Carter stood upon the precipice of her heart's desire, and was singularly unsatisfied—unsatisfied, and, truth be told, more than a little perplexed.

A major command—and no one in their right mind could deny USS Liberty was just about as major as a command could get—was the goal to which she'd aspired and labored for much of her life.

Liberty, however, was a vessel which had just been declared an admiral's flagship... and that she could have easily done without. Add to this the incontrovertible fact that she was replacing a captain who was a legend thrice over, and the sweetness of the achievement had already soured before she'd even taken the center seat. To make this crew, a collection of the famous and infamous to rival any in Starfleet, her own was a more than formidable task.

It was an impossible one.

She didn't deserve this: Susan had paid her dues, and served her time for two-and-a-half decades, competently manning posts that were varied and difficult as any in Starfleet. She'd been decorated occasionally, and never once run afoul of the powers that be. Like a smart submarine commander, she'd stayed submerged, taken her shots, and moved on.

But competent, she thought, doesn't get you a Sovereign-class starship.

And in that way, she didn't deserve it, either.

Upper echelons had been rather nonchalant about it all, too. A simple text message from Starfleet Personnel had awaited her when she and her fiancé returned after her “get away from it all” fishing trip to Lake Marinia—which despite being man-made, was still one of the most beautiful spots on her home world of Tethys II.

The communiqué had said nothing more than, “You are hereby requested and required to assume command of NCC-1776 USS Liberty on or about Starda–…”

Kevin, who'd been reading over Susan's shoulder, had whooped with joy, picked her up, and begun whirling around the room.

She'd whispered, “Kevin…”

“Yes! I told you that it was coming! You've only half believed it yourself, but I always knew. And not just a starship!

“USS Liberty!”

“Kevin…” she'd murmured, a little more insistently.

He was a strong man; though she was by no means a small woman, his exuberant capering had continued unabated.

“This is a dream command! And Starfleet is reconsidering their policy about families on Sovereign-class vessels again. I heard it last night on FNN.”

He'd buried his face in her auburn curls, and declared, “We can be together… both of us, following our dreams, for the first time!”

She'd tried again.

“Kevin…”

“I thought we were going to be separated for months again sometime over the next few days.” As they had so often during her leave, they'd somehow already ended up in the bedroom. While thigh-high waterproof boots, red flannel shirt, denim jeans and a fly-lure covered, floral print hat weren't what she considered her sexiest outfit, Susan was sure he didn't plan on letting her continue to wear it for long.

“Kevi–mmmph…! Mmmmm…”

Despite her misgivings, he was a difficult man not to kiss back.

So, for the next few minutes, she'd done just that.

He'd been ardent… too ardent. Susan had surrendered the hat and shirt easily—he'd kept her too busy with his caresses and wonderful endearments for her to offer much in the way of stout protest—and had nearly forgotten her misgivings when he'd bent to take off her boots.

As a matter of fact, he’d almost gotten her into bed.

“Point your toes, sweetie, and I'll yank…”

“Kevin!”

“Whoa!”

The sight of her fiancé sitting in the middle of the floor with her suddenly too cooperative footwear would have been funny at just about any other moment.

“What?”

He was a bit of a bear: Large; fuzzy (Susan loved big “Gandalf beards,” as she liked to call them); more than a bit irritable if thwarted.

And when Kevin wanted sex, anything else qualified as being thwarted.

She'd insisted, “It's a mistake… it has to be.”

And the ensuing fight had been a doozy.

Interlude Seven Chapter Thirty-One