04-15-2026, 02:05 AM
(This post was last modified: 04-15-2026, 02:20 AM by Robin Mayfair.
Edit Reason: Added clothing change
)
== Later ==
Pack slung over her shoulder, Robin strode up Red Bank Road, taking in the sights, sounds, and smells of the English countryside. She'd changed clothes into jeans and an off-white blouse, with sneakers. Perfect for around town activities, although that wasn't what she had in mind. She was almost awed at the greenery. Having grown up on a planet that was mostly dry scrubland she wasn't used to how vibrant so much of Earth was. True, it had its barren sections too. She'd once visited Arizona in her Academy days... and left within a short time. Too much like home, and back then the pain of having abandoned her parents was too raw.
This? This was alive. The smells of grass and water, the sounds of light wind and livestock in the distance. It was better for her soul than a hundred empty holodeck programs. Her destination was just around a short curve. Byrne Stables. Outside the huge red barn were large rolling fields with grazing horses, a riding track, and a bridle path leading to the north. She'd spotted the stables on her initial trip into town but hadn't decided to go riding until later. She'd already stopped in and talked to the owner, a rather thin gray-haired man that reminded her of her father despite no real physical resemblance.
Byrne was outside shoeing a horse when she opened the gate. He greeted the young woman with a wave as he finished tapping the nails in. "Ah, Miss Mayfair. Good to see you again." He checked the shoe with an expert's eye and, apparently satisfied, let the horse's foot drop. The brownish-gray animal gave her a look and a noncommittal flick of the tail.
She waved back. "Is that an Irish Sport? I didn't think there were many outside Ireland."
He stood up and raised an eyebrow. "You've a good eye and you know your breeds. It is indeed. I'm one of the few who own some. This girl is Maeve. It means 'she who rules.' And she indeed does," the man said with a short chuckle. "By your accent... American?"
"Distantly," the nurse said as she stepped up to the horse, careful to not startle it. She stroked its head. "Hey there, girl. I'm colony-raised, but we originally came from Tennessee. My family are ranchers. We raised horses, cows, and even a few Denobulan tirollas. Not much call for those, though."
Byrne laughed. "Aside from meat, you mean?"
She smiled and nodded. "Yeah. Never did like the taste myself. Give me a good steak any day."
Byrne brushed the dust off his hands. "Agreed. So anyway, you wanted to know about riding? We offer classes and group trail rides."
"Oh I don't need those, sir. I've been riding since I was seven, and raised a few. Even used to race, though the colony didn't have much beyond dirt trails. My papa used to say I was born for the saddle. "
I probably could have been a jockey... if the Federation didn't forbid Augments from competing in sports. ANY sports.
"Well, if you want to try with Maeve I'm willing to give you a chance. I don't usually let people ride anything except our older animals, but you seem to know your stuff. No faster than a trot until I see how well you handle it. She's a firebrand and she wants to run. Can you handle her?"
Robin gave the mare another pat and Maeve responded with a friendly snort. The young woman was reminded of her favorite horse, Tinkerbell, that she'd raised from a foal. She felt a sudden surge of loss. That horse had been the last one of her family's herd she'd seen and she missed it deeply.
"I think I can, sir. What do you think, girl? Want to give me the chance?"
A short time later the horse had been saddled and moved out to the track. Byrne leaned against a fence as Robin led her out. He said nothing and just watched, looking for any sign that the young woman with the odd purple hair and eyes had been conning him about her supposed expertise. She moved over and expertly mounted the animal with a swift motion.
Robin hadn't been on a real horse in over a decade. She'd tried a few holodeck riding programs but they'd just felt off, much like how replicated meat didn't taste quite right to her. But fortunately one benefit of her odd genetics was that skills didn't deteriorate if they weren't used. 'Use it or lose it' just wasn't something that applied to Robin Mayfair, and being on the back of this fine animal felt the same as her teenaged days on horseback.
She gave Maeve a gentle pressure with her legs to indicate that she wanted the horse to move forward and the animal started walking, clearly wanting to get the measure of the young human on her back. They walked for a minute as the stable owner silently watched. Evidently Miss Mayfair hadn't been pulling his leg. She leaned forward slightly, indicating a desire for more speed, and Maeve picked up the pace to a trot. A slight shift of her leg and a gentle pressure of the hand indicated a turn. The trot continued for a minute while the two got a good sense of each other. Robin felt the horse's desire to run.
Byrne understood too. After all, it was his animal and he knew it well. "All right, you can go faster if you want," he said as she passed by. "Carefully. I don't accept liability if you break your head open."
The nurse laughed and leaned forward, giving the signal for more speed, and Maeve's pace increased to a canter. Robin adapted to the gait almost instantly and gave it some time before giving the signal to gallop. She leaned down and the Irish Sport took off, reveling in the old feeling of speed and freedom. The young Augment had missed this so much. Maeve seemed to be enjoying herself as well, loving the chance to run with a skilled rider. Robin gave a happy laugh as she put the horse through its paces. They'd done several laps before Robin slowed the horse and headed back to Mr. Byrne.
By the time she dismounted Robin was dusty, tired, and deliriously happy. As she handed the reins back to the stable owner she was grinning ear to ear. "Thanks so much, Mr. Byrne. I needed this. I've been cooped up on starships way too long."
"Starfleet, eh? I figured. Well, you don't seem to have lost any skill having spent so much time in one of them tin cans. You're more than welcome to swing by any time."
Pack slung over her shoulder, Robin strode up Red Bank Road, taking in the sights, sounds, and smells of the English countryside. She'd changed clothes into jeans and an off-white blouse, with sneakers. Perfect for around town activities, although that wasn't what she had in mind. She was almost awed at the greenery. Having grown up on a planet that was mostly dry scrubland she wasn't used to how vibrant so much of Earth was. True, it had its barren sections too. She'd once visited Arizona in her Academy days... and left within a short time. Too much like home, and back then the pain of having abandoned her parents was too raw.
This? This was alive. The smells of grass and water, the sounds of light wind and livestock in the distance. It was better for her soul than a hundred empty holodeck programs. Her destination was just around a short curve. Byrne Stables. Outside the huge red barn were large rolling fields with grazing horses, a riding track, and a bridle path leading to the north. She'd spotted the stables on her initial trip into town but hadn't decided to go riding until later. She'd already stopped in and talked to the owner, a rather thin gray-haired man that reminded her of her father despite no real physical resemblance.
Byrne was outside shoeing a horse when she opened the gate. He greeted the young woman with a wave as he finished tapping the nails in. "Ah, Miss Mayfair. Good to see you again." He checked the shoe with an expert's eye and, apparently satisfied, let the horse's foot drop. The brownish-gray animal gave her a look and a noncommittal flick of the tail.
She waved back. "Is that an Irish Sport? I didn't think there were many outside Ireland."
He stood up and raised an eyebrow. "You've a good eye and you know your breeds. It is indeed. I'm one of the few who own some. This girl is Maeve. It means 'she who rules.' And she indeed does," the man said with a short chuckle. "By your accent... American?"
"Distantly," the nurse said as she stepped up to the horse, careful to not startle it. She stroked its head. "Hey there, girl. I'm colony-raised, but we originally came from Tennessee. My family are ranchers. We raised horses, cows, and even a few Denobulan tirollas. Not much call for those, though."
Byrne laughed. "Aside from meat, you mean?"
She smiled and nodded. "Yeah. Never did like the taste myself. Give me a good steak any day."
Byrne brushed the dust off his hands. "Agreed. So anyway, you wanted to know about riding? We offer classes and group trail rides."
"Oh I don't need those, sir. I've been riding since I was seven, and raised a few. Even used to race, though the colony didn't have much beyond dirt trails. My papa used to say I was born for the saddle. "
I probably could have been a jockey... if the Federation didn't forbid Augments from competing in sports. ANY sports.
"Well, if you want to try with Maeve I'm willing to give you a chance. I don't usually let people ride anything except our older animals, but you seem to know your stuff. No faster than a trot until I see how well you handle it. She's a firebrand and she wants to run. Can you handle her?"
Robin gave the mare another pat and Maeve responded with a friendly snort. The young woman was reminded of her favorite horse, Tinkerbell, that she'd raised from a foal. She felt a sudden surge of loss. That horse had been the last one of her family's herd she'd seen and she missed it deeply.
"I think I can, sir. What do you think, girl? Want to give me the chance?"
A short time later the horse had been saddled and moved out to the track. Byrne leaned against a fence as Robin led her out. He said nothing and just watched, looking for any sign that the young woman with the odd purple hair and eyes had been conning him about her supposed expertise. She moved over and expertly mounted the animal with a swift motion.
Robin hadn't been on a real horse in over a decade. She'd tried a few holodeck riding programs but they'd just felt off, much like how replicated meat didn't taste quite right to her. But fortunately one benefit of her odd genetics was that skills didn't deteriorate if they weren't used. 'Use it or lose it' just wasn't something that applied to Robin Mayfair, and being on the back of this fine animal felt the same as her teenaged days on horseback.
She gave Maeve a gentle pressure with her legs to indicate that she wanted the horse to move forward and the animal started walking, clearly wanting to get the measure of the young human on her back. They walked for a minute as the stable owner silently watched. Evidently Miss Mayfair hadn't been pulling his leg. She leaned forward slightly, indicating a desire for more speed, and Maeve picked up the pace to a trot. A slight shift of her leg and a gentle pressure of the hand indicated a turn. The trot continued for a minute while the two got a good sense of each other. Robin felt the horse's desire to run.
Byrne understood too. After all, it was his animal and he knew it well. "All right, you can go faster if you want," he said as she passed by. "Carefully. I don't accept liability if you break your head open."
The nurse laughed and leaned forward, giving the signal for more speed, and Maeve's pace increased to a canter. Robin adapted to the gait almost instantly and gave it some time before giving the signal to gallop. She leaned down and the Irish Sport took off, reveling in the old feeling of speed and freedom. The young Augment had missed this so much. Maeve seemed to be enjoying herself as well, loving the chance to run with a skilled rider. Robin gave a happy laugh as she put the horse through its paces. They'd done several laps before Robin slowed the horse and headed back to Mr. Byrne.
By the time she dismounted Robin was dusty, tired, and deliriously happy. As she handed the reins back to the stable owner she was grinning ear to ear. "Thanks so much, Mr. Byrne. I needed this. I've been cooped up on starships way too long."
"Starfleet, eh? I figured. Well, you don't seem to have lost any skill having spent so much time in one of them tin cans. You're more than welcome to swing by any time."