The Roads We Leave Behind, Part 3
Posted on Sat Dec 13th, 2025 @ 7:44pm by Lieutenant JG Maël "Gideon" Beauregard & Commander Vincent 'Vin' Salvatore
1,532 words; about a 8 minute read
Mission:
EPISODE 1: SHAKEDOWN
Location: Hecate's Lounge
Timeline: MD037
He turned and tapped the bar, grabbing the attention of the barkeep. "How 'bout a couple of Gator Bites--one for me and my friend here."
The bartender nodded and turned away to prepare their shots.
"Anyway," Gideon said, sliding his empty ale glass across the bartop. "You did what you had to, what fate put in your lap. You got out, you got a life, you got... a chance to be somethin' better. That counts for more'n all the money your old man ever wanted. Right?"
"I know." Vincent replied, almost half hearted, as he looked back towards the crowd. Of course he agreed. How could he not? However, he was still worried about his friends and family. About his mother and sister. Even his brothers. There was no escaping that feeling, no matter how much he tried to push it to the back of his mind. He was loyal to Starfleet, as well as grateful for the Federation taking him in as a refugee, but his heart would always long for home, even if it was just to make sure everything was all right. Give it the goodbye he never got to give it. "You're right, Gideon. That place wasn't good for me, no matter how you look at it, so I should feel bad for leaving it behind me. I made a life for myself in the Federation and serving in Starfleet. I should focus on that and my future."
The bartender came back with a grin and a small glass tray of four shot glasses, amber-green liquid glinting in the life like swamp water under the sun of midday. He set them down in pairs.
Gideon gave a low whistle. "Now that's a sight for sore eyes," he said, sliding two glasses toward Vin. "Don't worry, they bite softer 'an they look. First one's for courage, second's for honesty."
He lifted his own shot, holding it up between them. "To the roads we leave behind--and the fools we still hope to see again."
Vin took the glass and gave it a once over, finding it odd and still interesting, before holding it up alongside Gideon's. His mind raced with toasts he heard in the past, even those he heard while in Starfleet, before finally settling on one that seemed far more appropriate for the time. One Carlo used to give when they were enjoying themselves out around town. Sometimes they would be with friends. Sometimes they would be with some girls they new or just met. Sometimes it would just be the two of them. No matter the occasion, Carlo would never fail to raise his glass and say with a smile.
"Here's to the nights we'll never remember with the friends we'll never forget." Vincent said allowed, smiling as his brother would.
Gideon clinked his glass against Vin's, a bright little sound--and downed the first together. For Gideon, the drink hit hard, sweet at first, then sharp and warm all the way down. He hissed between his teeth and thumped the bar with the flat of his hand.
"God almighty," he said, laughing, a little bit of saliva dripping from the corner of his mouth. "Tastes like someone wrung out a Cajun funeral and bottled it."
Vincent downed the glass with Gideon. As the taste hit the back of his throat, he closed his eyes tight and turned his head, a slight cringe hit him as he did so. He let out a quick cough, followed by a breath, as he wiped some of the drink from the side of his mouth. "That's softer?!" He asked, his voice slightly horsed, before clearing his throat. Vin placed the glass down on the counter as a tear formed in his eye, releasing a laugh as he did so. "You could strip the paint off a Starship with that."
Gideon laughed so hard he nearly spilled the next round. "If that's paint-stripper, Vin, then I been varnishin' my soul since I was sixteen." He wiped at his mouth with the back of his hand and caught Vin's eyes. "Don't worry, the second one's kinder. It just sneaks up on ya later."
He took hold of the second shot glass and rolled it between his fingers. "Y'know," he said, "there's somethin' sacred 'bout drinkin' with a man who don't flinch at truth." He raised the glass, waited til Vin matched him. Here's to not varnishin', then."
"I'm sure it's as 'kind' as the first one was 'soft'." Vin replied with a hard laugh as he took the second glass and held it up with Gideon's. He took a deep breath and smirked again as he replied. "You can't hide from the truth so you might as well embrace it like a loved one at a tense dinner party." He let out another laugh, being careful not to spill the shot. "Baptism by Gator-Bites. Good for the soul... and stripping shuttlecrafts."
For Gideon, this shot hit smoother--almost as though the first had carved a beaten path for it. The heat spread slow, snaking through his chest and behind his eyes until the room seemed to shimmer just slightly around the edges.
"See?" Gideon said, blinking once, then twice. "That one's merciful. Like a preacher who knows what you did but don't hold it against ya."
He downed his drink and closed his eyes. The second one wasn't as powerful, but it still had some strength behind it. He felt the liquid hit his throat and go down warm, eventually hitting his stomach. As his eyes opened, Vin felt the room slightly shift in place. Although, it was hard to tell if it was the room or him in the bar stool. He felt slightly light headed before smiling again.
"You and I clearly had different experiences when it comes to priests." He said with a hard laugh before placing his hand on the counter to steady himself. The First Officer ran his hand through his hair, combing it back, before adding with a nod. "You're right. Second time is easier than the first. Like making love... except with less flammable." He chuckled again. "In the literal sense at least."
"Hell," he said, a crooked grin tugging at the one side of his mouth, "I'll take this over Klingon bloodwine any day. Last night's dinner wasn't exactly relaxin'." He laughed softly. "At least this business--the Gator Bites--it's palatable."
Vin let out a quick chuckle. "Like any drink, I imagine, Klingon Bloodwine is an acquired taste." He said with a smile. "I didn't like it either, at first, but I knew the importance of acquiring that taste when it came to performing my work in this sector." He shrugged slightly and then looked over to Gideon for a moment. His smile remained as he placed his hand on his shoulder. "You seemed to do a great job at the dinner with the Klingons. Especially with that one Klingon you sat next to, eh?"
"That woman's got the constitution of a hurricane. She didn't say a hell of a whole lot at first but she sure had a lot to say about Human and Vulcan history. Bit of a scholar when it came to history." He rubbed the back of his neck and smiled faintly. "Still, I reckon she tolerated me better'n most. Must be the accent. Maybe Klingons respect anyone who talks like they're chewin' gravel."
He turned the empty shot glasses upside down on the bar. "That Dathoth fella sure was givin' you the what-for."
"Just another Klingon who was more concerned about his own stature." Vin replied with a chuckle. "I'd say I should have earned his respect with that fight, but I fear if we cross paths again, he'll be just as irritating." He let out a slight sigh before leaned back against the bar counter. "The woman he was with, Shenas, was a surprise. I wasn't expecting to meet the Daughter of Moreth at that dinner, but I am sure the feeling was mutual for her."
Gideon nodded with a smile. "So this Moreth--"
A chirp cut through the warm buzz of the bar.
[Engineering to Lieutenant Beauregard--we've just flagged a cascade fault in the EPS load-balancers. Power is off on Deck Six and the diagnostics loop won't stabilize.]
Gideon closed his eyes, exhaling through his nose. "Engineering, I'm off-duty," he said in the gentlest of tones. "Try Ensign Vidamour."
[Sir, we've already contacted her. She's tied up with a team looking into the micro-resonance feedback in the main computer.]
Gideon let the silence hang for a few seconds, glancing at the bartender who offered a sympathetic shrug.
"All right," he said at least, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "I'm on my way."
The comm closed and Gideon shook his head before sliding off the stool with the resignation of a man who is never quite out of the storm. "Excelsior-class ships," muttered, gently slapping his palm on the bar. "You turn your back on 'em for an hour and they start breakin' down."
Commander Vincent "Vin" Salvatore
Executive Officer
USS Hecate
Lieutenant JG Maël "Gideon" Beauregard
Chief Operations Officer
USS Hecate
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