Talks Over Food And A Fire
Posted on Wed Apr 29th, 2026 @ 8:33am by Commodore Tyler Malbrooke & Lieutenant Kolok & Lieutenant Junior Grade Galen Trellis & Lieutenant Junior Grade Jack Hunter & Lieutenant Commander Rowena McGowen
Edited on on Mon May 11th, 2026 @ 7:01am
2,877 words; about a 14 minute read
Mission:
Episode 17 - Going Home
Location: Malbrooke Ranch - Oklahoma - Earth
Timeline: MD025 1900 hrs
Rowena found a campfire spot on the range, and she decided to start up a fire. The place seemed to be used that way a lot. She brought a basket of the food from the grill and some drinks as well. It was a nice and quiet evening. Earlier, she had invited some of the other officers to join her so she could get to know them better. They were new officers who joined the ships later, and she wanted to get a better first impression on the new officers.
Thus far, the idea that Kat had of bringing the Senior Staff down to the ranch was going swimmingly. She was always smarter than anyone ever gives her credit for. Tyler thought as he strolled among the many bonfires that had sprung up as the sun went down. The fact that this went so well was in no small part due to Rip and his staff. Tyler took a mental note to make sure that they all received something special.
He noticed one fire just getting started and walked over to find his Second Officer. "Rowena, I hope you are enjoying the spread here. Glad to see you letting your hair down."
Rowena turned to Tyler. "It's great, thank you, I hope this fire will attract some more people. I would like to meet some new people from the crew. I have been neglecting my duties as second officer, so I hope this rectify that."
Just down the path about fifty yards from the campsite, the familiar shimmer of a transporter beam wrapped around Jack as the world appeared from into light and static.
He materialized in a darkened intersection, the night air cool against his skin, carrying the scent of grass and distant woodsmoke. For a brief second he stood there listening. Using transporters always left him slightly off balance. He much rather the shuttlecraft way of travel, but using transporters wasn't the end of the universe. He tolerated them and obviously used them. It just wasn’t his preferred way of traveling.
Ahead of him, a handful of homes stood quietly in the darkness. Their porch lights dim or completely absent. Their silhouettes barely visible against the star-filled sky. No traffic. No voices. Just the sound of insects and night birds.
Jack turned slightly and faced a sloped dirt path which climbed upward. At the top, he could make out the flicker of firelight.
Shapes moved around the light. People.
“So that’s where they are.” he thought.
He adjusted the strap of the small bag slung over his shoulder and started up the path.
Kolok had enjoyed the peaceful walk as he made his way to the designated campsite. He saw the fire long before he saw the people. He made sure to make extra noise as he approached, so as not to draw hostilities. He'd brough two jugs of aged blood wine as an offering. He stepped into the firelight and nodded to those already assembled.
"This land is beautiful," he said in a soft voice.
Rowena looked up at the new people that joined her and Tyler at the fire. She nodded to Kolok. "It is really nice here, isn't it?" River gestured for them to join her. "We have some food here if you're hungry." She invited them.
Tyler glanced appreciatively at his Chief of Operations. Most Klingons were an open book or so he thought. However, Kolok seemed to be an enigma. "Living with what the planet has to offer is the way my family has done it for generations. You can say that this is ancestral land. As much as I love the Pioneer and all the unknown that is out there. There simply is nothing like this place." Tyler smiled as he saw the jugs. "Now, Kolok let us pour the wine and share our tales."
Kolok let out a yell that echoed over the fire-lit campsite. He set down the two jugs and clapped the Commodore on the back. "I agree, sir, this is a time for tales of honor, bravery and cunning!" He grabbed one of the jugs and pulled the cork out with his hand.
"To those who have gone before us and have shown us the way with honor!" He took a big drink and handed the jug to the Commodore.
Tyler thought to continue the sentiment that Kolok began. "To those that fight at our side with honor." He raised the jug and took a swig. It was both sweet and stung the back of the throat. Tyler passed the jug to Neil.
Lieutenant Galen Trellis made his way up the sloped path toward the flickering firelight, the bottle of Trill spring wine tucked under his arm. The evening air carried the scent of woodsmoke and grilled meat—a combination that triggered an unexpected flash of memory.
Not his memory. Ryla's.
A cargo layover on some frontier colony. A similar campfire, similar stars overhead, sharing a meal with colonists who'd become friends over food and stories.
The memory was warm, pleasant—like watching a favorite holovid through a crystal-clear window. Easy. Comfortable. The way inherited memories were supposed to feel.
Not like Dorian's. Not like reliving combat with all the terror and pain as if it was happening right now. Ryla's memories came with emotional context but remained safely hers. Dorian's memories crashed over him like waves, forcing him to re-experience unprocessed trauma. The unfortunate reality of PTSD in a prior host: it didn't transfer as memory. It transferred as wound.
Galen pushed the thought aside and stepped into the firelight, offering a respectful nod to those gathered. "Evening, reporting for campfire duty." Galen said with a smile as he handed the bottle of spring wine to the nearest office.
Rowena took the bottle from Galen and chuckled. "Relax...I think...It is something I need to learn myself again." She pointed to a seat next to her near the fire. "I am just glad we're not tossing around ranks right now. Makes things a little easier."
"Have a seat, Galen. Pull up a marshmallow and start telling us about our new enigmatic crew mate." Tyler said with a smirk and another swig of his drink.
Jack arrived at the site to see some friendly faces. He looked around and smiled.
“Hello everyone. I’ve been invited to your event here. We having a party?”
Now this was someone that Tyler wanted to see and get to know. Thus far their new Chief Engineer had been an enigma. "Welcome Jack. Take
a seat and a drink and tell us your tale. Welcome to my humble abode."
Rowena was really not good at this. She had hoped to get some drinks and talks, but she was being ignored, with the presence of the captain. She sighed as she pulled out her hair ties and let her hair lose. It was a very uncharacteristic thing for her to do. She always had her hair neatly together. It was also something she wasn't exactly doing consciously. Despite the fact that none of them really even knew what had happened, as they just arrived on the ship.
She took a poke and poked in the fire a little as she just listened to the men talk.
"Not sure how enigmatic I am, sir," Galen said with a slight smile. "Pretty straightforward—joined Trill, Academy graduate, helmsman who's spent the last six years figuring out where he fits while carrying around other people's memories."
He accepted a drink being passed around, taking a drink. "Born on Trill in 2370. Was supposed to complete my Initiate training, but Dorian, my most-previous host, had a shuttle accident during my fourth year at the Academy. I was the only compatible Trill within range, so the Symbiosis Commission decided to speed my Initiate training by giving me 18 hours to prep to receive 3 lifetimes of memories. Been managing that complication ever since."
Galen glanced at the fire briefly. "Served on the Venture, Vengeance, and Meridian before this. Good ships, mostly routine work. When the Chief Flight Control position opened on the Pioneer I jumped at the opportunity." He said as he leaned back and took another drink.
Jack set his bag down and settled into one of the open spots near the fire. The warmth of the flames was a welcome contrast to the cool night air, and for a moment he simply took in the scene around him. Five seconds later, responded to Tyler.
“Your humble abode,” Jack repeated, glancing out toward the dark silhouettes of the hills beyond the firelight. “Commodore, I’d say you’re underselling it, sir.” He gestured broadly at the sprawling darkness around them. “Back where I grew up we called a place like this a gift.”
Kolok took another drink and moved to sit next to the fire. He was bulky so he tried to pick a position where he wouldn't interfere with anyone else. He set his bat'leth on the ground next to him but within easy reach if the group was attacked by wild animals.
Tyler smiled and nodded as he looked around at the land. "Too right you are, Jack. This is a gift. One that my family has been steward of for generations. One, that I hope my crew, my extended family, will view as a gift that they can share in."
“You are providing us with the use of this on a routine basis?” Jack said with a smile.
Tyler laughed heartily and then sipped his drink. "My friend, this place is open to you as often as the Pioneer can get here. But I will warn you. It is not all fun and games here. If you stay for an extended period of time, you are expected to help out, even me. Such is life on a ranch."
"I am not afraid of hard work, Commodore," Kolok said. "Tell me what needs doing, and I will do it." He took another drink of the blood wine, relishing the warmth it brought and the memories of drinks shared with lost comrades.
Galen listened to the exchange between Jack, the Commodore, and Kolok. The conversation had shifted from introductions to the ranch itself—the idea of it being a place the crew could return to, a home away from the ship.
"I have to admit, sir, the concept of a ranch being available to crew is unusual," Galen said, his tone conversational but genuine. "I appreciate the offer, even if I'm still trying to wrap my head around what 'helping out on a ranch' actually entails." he said as he took another sip from his drink.
He glanced at Jack and Kolok, then back at the Commodore. "Fair warning though—I'm a pilot. . ." He paused, gesturing vaguely at the ranch around them. "But if you need a... what do humans call it? A cowboy? I'm probably not your best candidate. I'm still not sure what cowboys actually do, beyond wearing over-sized hats and questionable sanitation standards. My previous host, Ryla's, memories suggest it involves animals and ropes, but the specifics are a bit fuzzy."
Tyler laughed. "You are my family, this is my families home and I would not have it any other way. As to the cowboy life, sure it could entail ropes, hats, boots, and buckles. But most of all it is simply life. You sit and commune with nature, become one with the horse you ride. Live with the land, not on it. I know that space is often called the undiscovered country, but sometimes these mountains and fields are truly the undiscovered country. As many planets as we visit, people that we see, there simply is nothing like home. Communing with the land that birthed you." Tyler took a deep drought of his blood wine. "Kolok, is it not similar when you return to Q'onos?"
“You know, there’s a patch of land where I’m from, Savannah, Georgia, where you don’t have to go too far outside the city before things start to open up and look like this. No fences. No markers. Just open fields, old trees, and dirt paths.”
Jack started to smile. His eyes twinkled in front of the fire pit. His voice softened. It became steady and carried more memory than just words. Jack continued.
“In the summers, the air hung heavy. The humidity was thick. It almost felt like the world breathed slower, you know?… But once the sun dropped…”
Jack glanced over at Commodore Malbrooke and continued.
“…you’d get this sky. Not as clear as this, but enough to really stand out.”
He paused. The crackle of the fire filled the space in front of them.
“My dad used to take me out sometimes just to sit and listen. We talked when we felt like it. Didn’t know when we didn’t, but there was always a fire.”
Jack pointed at the fire and looked at Kolok with a deep connection and appreciation and continued.
“Didn’t matter if it was too hot or bright, he would hit it with even more firewood. Sometimes some whisky.”
Jack gave a quiet, almost embarrassed huff of a laugh.
“I used to think it was pointless. We had replicators, climate control, everything you could want back home. Why sit outside sweating when you didn’t have to, in that Georgia heat, are you kidding me?!…”
Jack looked back at Malbrooke.
“My father said it gave us something to gather around. So we can connect.”
Jack shook his head slightly and felt a little pity for himself.
“But that was me not knowing better. I didn’t get the message, and my father would die a year later.”
Jack chugged what was left in his cup and remained silent.
Galen listened to Jack's story, watching the engineer's expression shift from humor to something more vulnerable. The mention of sitting outside in Georgia heat, sweating despite having climate control available, struck a chord—though not in the way Jack probably intended. Sitting outside in the heat.
Why? Why would someone subject themselves to that voluntarily? Galen asked himself incredulously.
Galen kept his expression neutral, sympathetic even, but internally he couldn't help the reflexive aversion. Trill wasn't as dry and arid as Vulcan, but it had its hot, unbearable spots—regions where the sun beat down relentlessly and the air felt thick enough to chew. Maren had worked in one of those areas for years, creating monuments under punishing conditions, and those memories carried the visceral discomfort of heat exhaustion and sunburn that no amount of time could fully erase.
The idea of choosing to sit outside in that kind of heat, adding more wood to a fire when you didn't have to, when perfectly good climate-controlled environments existed... Galen honestly couldn't think of anything worse.
But he kept that thought to himself. Jack was sharing something deeply personal—grief over his father, regret over not understanding the value of connection until it was too late. This wasn't the moment to comment on his own aversion to "the great outdoors," as humans seemed to call it.
So Galen simply nodded, his expression respectful and understanding, letting the silence stretch naturally as the fire crackled between them. Sometimes the best contribution to a conversation was knowing when not to speak.
Tyler felt for his engineer. His story with his mother was similar. The idea of not being able to say goodbye, and the thought that there would always be time was the connection. "It is why these gatherings are so important. In the universe that we live in, reconnecting and realizing that we are all people. More than our ranks, jobs, or species. We are all simply space dust." He smiled and took a swig of his drink. "But that is enough somber. We are here to have a good time after all."
It was conversations such as this one that made this event all the more important to Tyler. A chance for him to get to know the crew, and for them in turn to get to know him. With his child on the way it was all the more important for Tyler to get to know the family that would help raise them. As he sat and listened he felt at home and at peace. He could feel the land around him was at peace as well. All was well in the universe.
A Joint Post By
Commodore Tyler Malbrooke
Commanding Officer, USS Pioneer
Lieutenant Kolok
Chief Operations Officer, USS Pioneer
Lieutenant Junior Grade Galen Trelis
Chief Flight Control Officer, USS Pioneer
Lieutenant Junior Grade Jack Hunter
Chief Engineering Officer, USS Pioneer
Lieutenant Commander Rowena McGowen
Chief Intelligence Officer, USS Pioneer
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