Rock Bottom

Posted on Sat Oct 24, 2020 @ 2:45pm by Captain Maritza Soran & Lieutenant Jason Haines

2,450 words; about a 12 minute read

Mission: Et In Arcadia Ego
Location: USS Pioneer
Timeline: MD 8

[ON]

Jason appeared in the brig of the Pioneer, supporting the unconscious body of Xeod. All the adrenaline of the fights he had had were wearing off. The disruptor burns on his shoulder and neck were throbbing. He was just noticing that a bit of his ear lobe had been burned off too. Once they were fully materialized, Jason let go of the man, who fell face first onto the deck.

He looked at the wide-eyed guard and said, "Ooops. If he moves, shoot him. First, he's dangerous, second, he deserves it. In fact, if you just want to shoot him for fun, I won't tell."

With that he turned and headed for the door.

Commodore Stewart and her adjutant entered. "Congratulations, Mr. Haines. Your assistance has been invaluable. We couldn't have done this without you."

Haines looked at her dumbfounded for a moment and then said, "Congratulations, seriously?"

He turned back to the guard.

"While you are at it, shoot her too, please."

He then frowned at the Commodore and continued walking out of the brig.

Maritza was walking towards him from the turbo lift. He looked like he was ready to murder someone. And the person who needed to be murdered was off limits. She stopped a little way from him. "Jason." he looked like death, and needed a medic. But that looked like the least thing on his mind. "Could you come with me, please?"

"What the hell did I do wrong now?", he asked a bit sarcastically.

"Nothing." She ignored the attitude. He'd just seen something truly terrible. "But you need sickbay. I count at least two major lacerations and someone needs to look at your ear. And I want to be sure you get there and don't collapse in a hallway somewhere on the way."

"Miss Soran, Starfleet has already given me oh so much", Jason said sarcastically. "I am a civilian now and want as little from Starfleet as possible. What I am going to do is go find a seat in the ship's lounge, have a drink, pretend that it is the real thing, and wait until we get back to the station. Then I am going to see Doctor Oliver on the promenade to deal with my ear and burns, grab a quick drink at the Box, go see Alanna, then pack my crap and leave."

"We won't be back at DS5 till gone midnight." Soran pointed out. "I strongly recommend the doctor." She sighed. "And if you need real alcohol... Command has its privileges." She offered.

Jason looked at her suspiciously a moment and said, "You are being a atypically compassionate tonight. I don't believe I have seen this side of you Captain."

"What you know about me couldn't fill a mosquito's ballsack. Would you like the drink or not?"

Despite being weary as hell, both physically and emotionally, Jason almost snorted out loud at her comment.

'Who is this and what have they done with Captain Soran?', he thought.

"Sure", Jason said. "Lead the way."

She took him to the officers mess. The small room was deserted, and she gestured to one of the tables while she went to the replicator. "What do you want?"

"Andorian whiskey, please", he said, still watching her like this was the first time he had seen her. He hadn't heard any officer speak of the Captain having this sort of characteristic.

"Andorian whiskey. Regulation seventy five point seven override, authorisation Soran, Delta four six eight." A tumbler with two fingers of pale blue liquid. She added a dirty martini for herself, without the override.

She brought the glasses over and placed his down in front of him before taking her own seat. She didn't try talking, just let him drink

Jason nodded in thanks, closed his eyes for a few moments, and then slammed the drink back. He shook his head and looked like he just ate fish that had sat in the sun a couple of days. He let out slight gasp.

"Thanks", Jason said, looking like he was trying to get the taste out of his mouth.

She got up and got him another, also alcoholic and brought it over. "How many will it take to get you to sickbay."

"Ugh, not another one of these please", he said, slamming it down and making the same faces. "This was my dad's drink of choice, but I think it tastes like targ piss. Andorian rum, fine, but not whiskey."

He looked at her contemplatively.

"There are others from the mission who need to be in sickbay more than I do", Jason said. "This is minor."

He looked a bit distant as he thought of injuries he had gotten before leaving with Daniels.

"Everyone who needs to be there, is there. Except you. And it doesn't look minor. It looks like you've been stabbed, and burnt."

"Oh, not stabbed, cuffed a couple of times", Jason said. "Dinged a couple of times with a disruptor, that's all. The other guy got it worse than me. Shot his foot nearly off. Nah, this is minor compared to say Sovok. He broke some bones, jaw, ribs, one into my lung, cut me who knows how many times. Now, that you could have definitely bugged me to go to sickbay on."

He looked at his hands, rubbing them in a washing motion several times. He went to the replicator and said, "Water, cold."

Before he took the glass and drank the water, he rubbed his hands together again.

"You forgot internal bleeding and a ruptured eardrum from being shelled." She stirred her olive around in her glass. She'd had the full report from sickbay, and even though it was eight months ago, she remembered every word.

Jason smirked, recycled the glass, and said, "What can you say? Those Vulcans really knew how to deal with invaders and criminals. Hell, the Romulans would have been in awe with the ruthlessness. You should have been there, it was a sight to behold."

Sighing, he rubbed his hands together more as he sat down and looked out the ship's window.

"The worst of both worlds," Maritza navigated the olive up the side of the glass and then let it fall back. There were things to do, and tasks she wanted to put off just a little longer. "Your father saved two hundred lives today. So did you."

"No", Jason said with a barely perceptible growl as he looked away. "All that happened is that we followed the mission, which was to capture him alive, so some Starfleet brass could gloat and get another gold pip in their box. We kept him at bay at best. Now, he has a chance to get out of prison, assuming he is convicted. Who knows how many, either still loyal to or afraid of him, will help him. I shouldn't have listened to my mother, I should have punched the last little gasp of life out of him. Then we could say lives were saved."

He looked at his hands again and rubbed them together.

"I know you don't have a lot of faith in Starfleet right now, but I assure you, its taken so long to move precisely to make sure his network was dismantled. He's not getting away." She watched his hand wringing. "Show me your hands."

"Can you guarantee that?", he asked, putting his hands down on the table. Not so she could inspect them, but to support himself as he leaned over the table. That said, Soran could see his hands were covered in blood, most of it red and dried, but some was still fresh. His knuckles on both hands were skun up and lightly bleeding. A bit of what looked like blue blood was dried on his cheek.

"Even if he is found guilty and doesn't get away", Jason said angrily. "The worst he will have is a penal colony where they will force him to work and take some counselling sessions. While me and the rest of the rescue teams have experienced death and nasty injuries. So yeah, you are right I don't have a lot of faith in Starfleet. Starfleet has taken away just about everything I had with a handful of exceptions. So, look me in the eyes and say that without a doubt, no lies, you know he's not going to get away, not now, not ten years from now, not until he dies. Then I will believe lives were saved and that what we did was worth it. Otherwise, go celebrate with the Commodore about the newest decoration in her brig."

She looked at him, "He will be in a penal colony, on Vulcan, for the rest of his life. No doubt, no lies, no exceptions, no escapes."

"He better", Jason said in almost a whisper, even though deep down he knew the Captain would never knowingly lie to him.

'Washing' his hands again, he sat down and put his head on the table, forehead first as if he was bowing.

She got up and went to the replicator again. When she came back she had a basin of warm water, soap and some towels. She dipped one into the water, and then reached for one of his knuckles. "This is going to hurt." She warned, even as she started wiping the blood from his fingers.

If Jason felt any pain he didn't show it. His hands trembled a little as she washed.

'What the hell is this?', he thought, wondering where this side of her had been hidden. He remembered the first day he had been on the station and he had ask Claude what he thought of her. He had given him a 50/50 sign. Maybe if more people knew about this side of her, there would be more thumbs up.

He chuckled slightly as she pulled one of his hands closer a bit roughly.

She ignored it and continued to briskly remove the crusted blood. The water had gone a cloudy grey. "Something funny, Mr. Haines?"

"For some reason this made me think of a time when I eight", Jason said, not lifting his head. "We had gone to Ireland to visit some of my mother's relatives. I was trying to pet the neighbor's dog, who was snarling and barking at me, despite my good will. Being young and stupid, the dog got a nice taste of my hand. My mom was quite irritated with me as she had told me to leave the dog be. I knew I was in trouble because her Irish accent came out.

"Wise up and don't be a muppet all your life child", Jason said switching to the best Irish accent he could do, which was a bit limited. "Be leavin that to your father."

"I'm not sure what a muppet is," Soran moved to the second hand. "But I'm reasonably sure your father wasn't one." She dipped her cloth. "You know there are cold equations in command. Your father knew it. He understood it was likely he wasn't coming back from this. When the order came, he didn't hesitate. His equation balanced. The Klingons would say it was a good death."

"She was a bit rough patching me up and a muppet is a term for fool", Jason said, lifting his head, looking at her. "and trust me, my father had plenty of muppet in him. I know there are cold equations in command. Why do you think I went with Xeod in the first place? He wanted me and if he didn't get me, he was going to be causing all sorts of problems for you, the station, and the people on it. It took him less than a week to get transfer orders for me. It probably would have taken him three to get you out of the way. Believe it or not, the people on the station mean something to me, but in my short career, I've experienced too many muppets in Starfleet."

She doubted that. She didn't doubt that he'd met a lot of people he disagreed with and conflated the two. And probably a lot of people much better at the dispassionate math needed to be effective than he would ever be. "Starfleet has its flaws, but its the best we have. And there are plenty of people dedicated to making it better. And to rooting out those who betray what it stands for. Today they won. Starfleet is a little better this evening than it was this morning. Tomorrow, they'll get to work moving it forward again. Being better isn't a state, its a process. And nothing changes if you give up on it."

"Well, having come from a large Starfleet family, both by blood and by friendships", Jason replied. "I know there are a lot more flaws than most see. I may be being a muppet myself, but right now my gut is telling me I need to walk away from Starfleet, both for myself and for others. I have things that I need to do and things I need to find."

"You've handed in your resignation. All you have to do is step off this ship. We can make arrangements to get you where you need to go."

"Oh, I know", Jason said with a weary smile. "I have a plan. Today throws a bit of a monkey wrench into it, but I'll manage."

He pulled his hands back and wiped them on his pants.

"I am sure you have better things to do than to wipe blood off my hands. I'm just going to snooze in the corner until we get to the station."

"You can snooze in sickbay. You won't feel like doing anything if you end up with a septic ear."

Jason snickered, "It and my other wounds are well cauterized. Disruptors don't let you bleed. With respect, all I want from Starfleet right now is a ride back to the station."

"Fine." She went to the replicator one last time. "Don't say I didn't try." She handed a blanket, thick and soft. "I'll be in the hangar bay if you need me."

Jason took the blanket with a smile and nod of thanks. He started for the corner seat. He was surprised by his interaction with the Captain. He wasn't going to complain, but it was too bad that it took death to bring it to the forefront. Regardless, he had been 'human'.

He turned back to her and said with a slight smile, "Captain, thanks for the drink and the blanket."

"Go to sleep, Mr Haines."

[OFF]

Jason Haines, Civilian
Deep Space 5

Captain Martiza Soran
Commanding Officer
Deep Space Five

 

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