What Do You Do with a Problem Sailor?

Posted on Thu Nov 14, 2019 @ 8:40am by Captain Maritza Soran & Commander Caleb Ryan

1,207 words; about a 6 minute read

Mission: Doors of Perception
Location: Commander Soran's office
Timeline: MD14 1000

[ON]

"Raktajino?" Maritza asked as Caleb entered her office to go through the fallout from recent events. She was standing at her replicator, one mug already in hand.

“Just coffee,” Caleb said. He wasn’t wildly inventive in trying alien foods. His family was firmly anti-replicator, too, but in Starfleet, one had to compromise. He had some sympathy for people like Melvyn Raddon -- at least until they crossed the line.

Caleb folded his long body up in one of the chairs and accepted the coffee cup, sipping the burning liquid with little thought.

"I've read your preliminary report." Maritza sat down with her own drink. "Well," she said, her tone rich with self disgust. "That could have gone better. I never considered that the Vulcans would call in an airstrike." She took a mouthful of Raktajino, thick with cream. "I'm sorry."

Caleb shook his head. “We’re all at fault. Ah think in the back of our minds we were still thinkin’ they might be like our Vulcans in some way,” he said. “An’ we had know way of knowin’ that they knew where Ch’zath’s shuttle was. Mah question is, how did they manage ta set up the ambush? Were they communicatin’ through the portal somehow? How did Sovok set it all up?”

Maritza shrugged. "Well, they did have two days before they arrived to plan, and I'm sure Sovok's assistant had plenty of initiative. I just underestimated the extent they were prepared to go to win. Orbital bombardment, for the love of Pete."

“Ah suppose they wanted ta make sure we can’t come back,” Caleb mused. “Or they can’t lose more rebels to us.” He paused, thinking. “Seems a shame we can’t help them more,” he finally said.

"Some battles can't be won," Maritza said. "it's out of our hands now. Unlike Haines." She lifted the padd with Ryan’s preliminary report. "Whatever happens, it will be a world of trouble."

“Haines,” Ryan noted. “Yeah.” He sipped his coffee. “You didn’t know, either?”

"Not an inkling. I'm going to put a complaint in, naturally. We've got enough challenges as it is without division in our own house. I've still got Ambassador Turvan in the brig for trespassing in a restricted area and flouting his ban from the station."

“And the spoonheads -- Cardassians,” Caleb corrected himself, “haven’t complained?” he asked with surprise. “Ah’d have thought we’d have the Sixth Order on our doorstep again.”

"They're making a lot of noise, but we've got him bang to rights in a secured area, flouting a ban on his presence. I've got him for ninety-six hours if I want him." She shook her head. “I'm more concerned about Haines. Even if I discipline him, he could be in a world of trouble from above my head. His defense for going rogue is basically so he can carry out a war crime. I'm not sure I can get him out of that."

“I take it Intel and Temporal are stonewallin’?” Caleb asked. “Ah’m frankly surprised Ah ain’t gotten mah hands slapped by Temporal yet for the Cardassian boy.”

"I suspect the two are related. I'm more concerned Temporal is covering its arse for giving orders to murder people by going into denial mode." She tapped her comm badge. "Claude." She caught herself. Claude was missing. "Zita, can you organise for a JAG lawyer to come by my office in the next forty-eight hours? Thank you."

She turned back to Caleb. "He's caught us all between a rock and a hard place. Even if I do nothing, once the reports go in, he's facing mutiny. And if things get nasty, it could be worse. His defense was that he effectively had to go commit a war crime. And if I don't discipline him, we're all going to get looked at very hard by Starfleet Command. Regulations say I should drop a shuttlecraft on him, from great height. In enhanced gravity." And for all Haines deserved it, She had her Science officers well-being and recovery to think of.

Caleb nodded. “Where’s Claude?” he asked, not aware the man was on leave or whatever. “Anyway, so what are we talkin’? Demotion? Brig time? Ah already put a reprimand in his file.”

"I don't think brig time is constructive for anyone, and is likely to be detrimental to Dr. Wells. I'm leaning towards demotion. I just hope it's enough, and I don't get ordered to cashier him." She sipped her drink. "Claude is possibly missing. Security are working on it."

“Maybe probation, too,” Caleb said. “Ah don’t want a repeat.” He frowned. “Missin’? Difficult ta do on a space station.” He thought back to Ahjess and his daughter’s trouble. But Security wasn’t his bailiwick anymore. “Let me know if Security needs any help,” he said.

"Probation is a good idea. Is a year unreasonable?" It felt reasonable, not too short, not too long.

“Seems good,” Caleb said. “An’ if he pulls shenanigans like that again, we crucify his ass,” he said darly. “Pardon mah French. But an away team needs ta know they can trust the others ta watch their backs an’ not risk the operation.”

"No arguments here. What about the rest of the team? Did everyone else perform well?"

“Yes, no complaints on that front,” Caleb said. “We were lucky we didn’t lose anyone. That’s testament ta Tessaro’s training regimen.”

Caleb paused, considering. “You gonna talk ta Lt. Wells about Haines? Warn her about him bein’ a no good snake?” he asked. “Otherwise Ah will. She’s too good a person ta be makin’ time with that man.”

"She'd figured it out before we did. One of her staff caught him at something before we left. Even then, she still wants him." Maritza shook her head. "I would have shoved him out the nearest airlock."

“Mebbe Ah’ll try an’ talk ta her then. Make her see sense,” Caleb said. “Airlock’s too good fer ‘im. String ‘im up is the way we used ta do it.”

She understood the sentiment, but it was hardly in keeping with Federation ideals. "As a wise man once said, ‘If you kill'em, they don't learn nothing.’"

“They also don’t make the same mistake twice,” Caleb reparteed.

"Touché," Maritza replied, trying not to laugh. "Well, we won't, at least. I'm glad you got everyone home, Mr. Ryan. I'll be sending commendations for you and Lieutenant Tessaro to Starfleet Command."

“Thank ya, Commander,” Caleb demurred. “Tessaro definitely deserves it,” he agreed. Is there anythin’ else ya need?”

"More hours in the day? Galactic peace?" she asked dryly. "Maybe a time machine."

“Oh, God, not a time machine,” Caleb groaned. “Ah’ve had enough muckin’ about in time.”

"Good point. And after this, Temporal Investigations can take a running jump." Maritza sighed, running a hand over her braids. "Let's hope Pangaea leaves us in peace while we dig out the Romulan Core, deal with Ambassador Turvan and deal with some of more pressing security issues. I'd really like just one quiet day.

[OFF]


Commander Caleb Ryan
Executive Officer
Deep Space 5

Commander Maritza Soran
Commanding Officer
Deep Space Five.

 

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