|
Post by Shawna on Jan 3, 2019 17:27:57 GMT
Stardate 11812.17 w/ Babs as Rebecca Terell
With things relatively calmed down--reports to the admiralty about the now motionless, stationary ship; reports about the section of space suddenly cleared of radiation and exotic particles, ready for more scouts to go in and catch out any bandits and other people hiding away; reports regarding the Maddox and her crew--it was a good time to take a breath in the midst of catching up. While Hamlet certainly wanted to get at their friendly helper ship, and while Raqiin agreed it would definitely be nice if they could take a fair crack at boarding and examining it, that was for the brass to decide. So was the Maddox crew. So...rest and recuperation and repairs at DS4 it is.
And paperwork. So, so much paperwork. Penny was relatively certain that Raqiin would have no lasting negative effects from her contact with the ship, so there was no reason to take it easy, not yet. It still bothered her, the images playing out behind her eyelids, the emotions jostling her in her sleep like a persistent echo, but...it would be fine. It would have to be fine.
And speaking of work: Raqiin ushered Terell into the ready room, nudging aside a few PADDs cluttering up the desk. She gave a genuine, if weary, smile. "Rebecca--you've got something for me?"
“It took some time, but yes. I have a translation.” Rebecca placed a PADD on Raqiin’s desk. The translation had explained away some of the vision, but she also still had a profound sense of loss that had haunted her background thoughts. A dull ache, which she suspected might never fully go away.
She turned on the PADD and opened the file with the translation, turning it towards Raqiin:
Sapphire
Now you've left the sleep and truth is known. The Old Ways are over. Ruby makes their move. The lightbringer will destroy all it touches. The world will be empty. As you read this, we are gone. You are all that is left.
Use the skip drive. Get as far as you can. Find others. Find hope.
My love. You made it all worthwhile.
“Do you suppose there might have been someone on that ship after all?”
"I..." Raqiin's eyes ran over the words again. That same sense of loss, despair, regret echoed like a word on the tip of her tongue. "I suppose so... Only a proper search of the ship will tell--and you can imagine how much Hamlet is chomping at the bit to go."
A small laugh. Hollow.
"To go so far just to escape all that destruction...only to sleep for even longer. Only to find us. It must have thought we were worth it, to expend that energy to stop the fight, but..."
“Apparently it.. She..?” Rebecca’s voice rose in a question, there was really no way of knowing if there was anyone there at all, without having the opportunity to go onto the ship and explore... “thought we were worth it enough to protect. I wish that we’d had the honor of meeting this Sapphire in person. Especially after our experiences communicating with her..or the ship.. Or whatever that was. I’m sure that vision is going to haunt my dreams forever. Still so many unanswered questions.”
"Anything I find out going onward about, I'll let you know. I'll ask for updates as any significant discoveries are made." Raqiin shook her head. "I wish I could say we would be at the front of this, but we'll be needed elsewhere soon enough."
She drummed her pale fingers. "Hey, we're...good, right? I keep thinking, maybe we would've solved this mystery faster if I had let you keep listening, let you get...drawn in, but we didn't know what we were dealing with."
“I.. I suppose it’s for the best. I understand how important it is to exercise caution, especially since we were dealing with a new alien race. I mean, I know I was eager to learn more, but you did what you were supposed to do as Captain, and kept me out of trouble.”
She didn’t know how much Raq knew about her past, about the incident with the Tkon artifact during her time on the Sentinel. She did indeed have a tendency to be too eager for new knowledge, which had nearly led to disaster in their encounter with the artifact’s Guardians. If it hadn’t have been for a twist of fate where they’d met the Tkon portal who’d ultimately let them keep the artifact, they’d have been executed. She’d gone through alot of introspection and guilt over that, and it had eventually caused her to move away from a career in diplomacy. But the curiosity remained, though now tempered by the caution of experience.
Raqiin let out a short breath. "It's good to hear that. I know the captain trusts me to run a ship and make the right calls, but it's one thing to be XO and another to be in the big chair. Feels like every time it's up to me, something...happens. But, we wouldn't be the Chiron if something didn't happen. Hm, maybe the Bremen-ites brought our terrible luck with us. Don't ever envy the CO; they're always in way over their heads."
Rebecca chuckled. “I don’t think I’ve ever envied the Captain’s job. But you’re doing fine, as difficult as it is. I think Captain Sumner would be proud.”
"She likes to tell me that; maybe one of these days I'll believe it." Not that she didn't believe it, really. Sara certainly believed it when she said it. It was just sometimes difficult to take to heart in the middle of chaos. "You know we're proud of you, too, right? And everyone on that bridge. And everyone on the ship. Well, some people could use a dressing down now and then, but still. Couldn't ask for anyone better manning ops."
Rebecca’s cheeks colored in a blush, not expecting the compliment. “Thank you, Commander. At first I wasn’t sure if it was the right career move for me, but it’s been growing on me. It’s certainly been an adventure, especially with this latest mystery to solve.”
"It's never boring, that's for sure. And maybe you'll decide you want to do something else someday, and that'll be just fine. Sometimes it takes a while to figure out what you want. Life's like that. Personally, sometimes I wish I still had Hamlet's job, but I think he has a little more fun with it than I did. Or...maybe that's just him being him."
“I think it’s a little bit of both,” Rebecca laughed. “Especially when he starts singing and playing air guitar. Never a dull moment.. ”
"Certainly keeps things lively." Not that they needed it, but Hamlet certainly had been there for her when she needed that, as she was there for Sara. Raqiin sighed through her smile. An eclectic bunch, the lot of them. "Anything else?"
"No, not right now." She shook her head with a smile and stood up to leave the ready room."If I discover anything else about the ship, I'll be sure to let you know."
|
|
|
Post by Shawna on Jan 3, 2019 17:38:04 GMT
Stardate 11812.19 w/ CJ as aCO Sandoval
Though the request was somewhat unusual, no one on the station cared to deny the woman who brought in a True Federation ship a chance to sit with the (acting) captain of said ship. There wasn't any danger, no more than was generally inherent when sitting down with a prisoner, and even if there was? The guards were well-disciplined, but in this case, an itchy trigger finger would probably go overlooked.
But none of them were there. None of them had seen. Not like Sandoval had. And there were questions, answers, feelings that only they could share. Despite the circumstances. Despite being technically on opposing sides of a war winding down.
Raqiin settled into the seat opposite her fellow captain, the days since the incident having calmed her nerves, helped to settle the jarring and intense emotions that still on occasion plagued her sleep. Though she did not know Sandoval on any level, had every right to be angry or bitter or upset, she let out a quiet sigh and smiled, serene. "It's nice to meet you in person."
Sandoval didn't respond immediately. Her reckoning with the vision has been more uncertain. She knew nothing of the alien ship, where it'd come from, or what those who built it were like. Unsurprisingly, she didn't quite have the privilege to learn more, either.
All she knew was the vision, apparently shared by this Andorian officer, and its clarion plea. That's what it had felt like to her, anyway - not a parable, but an exhortation to see her erstwhile enemy for what she was.
"Thank you," she eventually managed. She seemed like she might say more, but words didn't materialize.
"I didn't do anything," Raqiin replied with a startled laugh. "If anyone else had been in our shoes, I can't imagine the outcome being any different, can you?" Surely Hamlet would have stopped, or Evans, or Terell--even Trevanion. Surely.
Sandoval idly picked at a cuticle, brow furrowed.
"I don't know that we'd have done the same," she admitted. "Feel like maybe that should've been a sign at some point, but... 'you do the mission you're given.'"
She looked to Raqiin, giving a small, knowing smile, keenly aware how dumb that sounded now.
"Easy to get wrapped up in." Raqiin wasn't certain she understood entirely, that. From a distance, from the outside. She'd seen people fall into that pattern before. But for herself, to just shut up and keep her head down and do what she's told without question, without a figurative fight? But things weren't always so clear-cut.
She folded her hands in front of her in an attempt to keep from her own nervous picking and poking. "I don't want to read any of the interrogation transcripts. I don't want to watch any videos of you or your crew. I'd like to hear it from you. What was the mission you were given? What were you even doing all the way out here? Who--who's even left to give you any mission in the first place?
"This isn't," she added quickly, with a bite of her lip, "in any official capacity. I'm not asking as any kind of Acting Captain or Commander or anything with rank. I just want to know. I just want to know what in anyone's hells we were even fighting about."
Sandoval certainly wasn't going to make this hard. She'd resolved to share what she knew without reservation, and even if she hadn't, she would feel the same obligation to tell Acting Captain sh'Hruvek why she'd been so resolved to kill her.
"Our standing orders were to disrupt Federation supply lines and operations, and engage targets of opportunity in order to draw resources from the front lines," she explained, and not for the first time. "I don't know how many other marauders are in operation, but we've encountered four others in the last fourteen months."
She took a breath, her mind shifting easily into interrogation mode.
"We received our orders from Admiral De Havilland. I don't know if the mission came from anyone higher up. I wasn't in command at that point."
The other questions were harder to answer, and were in fact questions she'd been asking herself for some time now. She figured there weren't any answers that could be satisfactory.
"I think we were all afraid," she offered. "We were patrolling near the RNZ when got the report of fighting in 001. We were too far away to get there, didn't have a QSD, so we sat and waited for details. Then we got a message from President Karn. Then we got one from Admiral Walker. Captain Carmack had to make a choice about who to believe, and we all trusted our Captain. We believed in him, would've followed him into hell, so... we did."(edited)
"Do you think," Raqiin asked quietly, digesting the response, trying not to get riled up about President Karn, trying not to wince at Sandoval's rote repetition of what she's surely said many times before, "that Captain Carmack made the decision that he made because he was an agent of Section 31?"
It doesn't really matter, in the end. Carmack will be, has been questioned. They all will be, eventually. And too many people got caught up on both sides that had nothing to do with the secretive organization behind the civil war. Siding with the True Federation didn't make anyone automatically a spy. It just meant they made a choice that they felt was right. It was all anyone could do.
She shook her head, white hair jostling from where it was tucked behind her ears. "Or he was just scared and went with the highest authority figure of the land. And you trusted him, because he was your captain." They'd all follow Sara wherever she might lead. There'd be debate, certainly, but...they would. "How did we get to this point? How did we let it get this bad? How--" She had to cut herself off and slump back in her seat for a moment. Two sisters, only speaking when it's too late, with dying breath. One only seems to ask how after it's too late. "Federation supply lines. The Federation we both fly for. The Federation we both swore to protect. Did you really see us as the enemy? The Valletta? Did a difference in ideology really push us this far apart?"
Sandoval didn't know if Carmack had been 31. She strongly doubted it, and his descent into alcoholism suggested he wasn't quite the true believer that most 31 agents seemed to be, but at this point she wasn't sure of anything.
"I don't know what you want me to tell you," she murmured. "All conflict is ideology. 'I deserve these resources more than you' is ideology. 'We believe in freedom and you don't' is ideology. The argument's been that your version of the Federation is one unwilling to protect her people, to proactively address modern threats. Karn believes in a strong and active Starfleet, and that appeals to a lot of people. I mean, look around. The Klingons are raiding our worlds, the Breen have attack our fleets. What's been done about it?"
She didn't expect an answer, and didn't leave much room for one, either.
"Doesn't really matter," she offered, heaving a sigh. "Looks like the war's all but over, and no, it wasn't worth it. And I'm sorry. I-I'll always be sorry for, um, all the lives..."
Sandoval closed her eyes, brow furrowed tightly in a futile attempt to keep the tears from falling.
Raqiin didn't hesitate, reaching across the distance to curl a blue-white hand around Sandoval's. It came back to her in a rush, trying to reach out to the figures-- "It's okay." It wasn't okay. It may never fully be okay. But here, in this moment, between them? "What's done is done. I'm sorry, too. For not showing you the very best of me. For thinking the worst of you. And I don't excuse the things you and your captain did. And nothing I say will keep you from the punishments of the law. But I forgive you."
Sandoval didn't reply - couldn't, really. There were no words for this kind of grief, wrought from the knowledge that you were on the wrong side all along. There was no groveling, no admission that could ever erase it, and yet the feel of the other woman's hand, the sincerity of her voice as she forgave her instilled a solitary drop of absolution that clarified the roil in her head, illuminating a path ahead.
Still, she couldn't speak, only shredded gasps and stifle sobs spilling from her throat, so she responded the only way she could: by squeezing Raqiin's hand, and hoping the meager gesture conveyed any of her solemn gratitude.
"These people, or this...person, this entity." Sapphire. The only one left. "They came looking for other people, for other forms of life, from an entire other galaxy. To escape war, destruction, genocide. To find someone, anyone else in the vastness of space, between the stars. To find hope. And we are all so lucky that our skies are filled with so many other races, absolutely crowded with other people, most of whom just want to work together to build something greater than themselves."
Raqiin's eyes misted over as she spoke, Sandoval's grief like a pool she saw fit to sink into if only she can keep her head above the waterline. So much destruction, from those crystalline beings. So much loss between two people who couldn't say what they needed to. "And I don't know if they found anyone else before us. I don't know how long they had been asleep, waiting. I don't know--I don't know if we were worth the effort to help, but I like to think we were. They certainly seemed to think so. We're still piecing together their story, and it might take a long time to understand, but they came from war looking for hope and found us. And I hope. I do hope. I have hope, that we can see past all the differences between us, that we won't end the same way that we saw. More than anything, I have hope for the future, the way our intervening friend had hope that their message would stop the fighting. I won't let that go to waste. I promise."
Sandoval let the tears flow. She'd been so tired - all of them had been so tired. The Maddox had been a pit of misery for months, sapping the spirit from her crew as they languished under slowly failing systems and subpar provision and a clearly disintegrating Captain. She had thought, for a moment, that maybe she could turn it around once she was in command. Maybe she could help them find direction again.
She hadn't expected that to mean surrendering, but in that moment, with that vision seared in her mind, she knew the path to take. They'd all stopped believing in Karn's crusade long ago, and had fallen into the 'follow the mission' trap. How many people had they killed? How many of their siblings-in-arms? The Valletta, so fresh in her memory - how could they have done such a thing?
But they had. Sandoval couldn't change that, now. Maybe it wasn't enough that she'd decided to stop when she did, but it was all she could do in that moment.
Slowly her hands calmed, and she squeezed Raqiin's once again, grateful for whatever connection this crystalline being had forged between them.
"Neither will I," she whispered, before wiping her eyes on her sleeve. "I'll tell Starfleet everything I can. My engineers can tell them how to find the marauders, how to counter the cloaks. It can't ever be enough, but it's what I've got to give."
"It's enough for now." Raqiin smiled in spite of herself, eyes crinkled in sadness and relief in equal measure. "It's enough to stop." It won't be enough in the long run, not to Sandoval, not to Starfleet, but it was surely infinitely better than to continue on as they were. "I think our friend would agree with that much."
The old ways were over, after all. Maybe they could usher in some new ways, better ways, and move ahead.
|
|
|
Post by Einar on Jan 5, 2019 13:42:51 GMT
“I ...” Penny’s voice faltered a bit, “I have to hope so. Otherwise, what are we even doing here?” She turned a questioning gaze to Raq, “If we stop believing in peace, striving for it ... then what have we become?”
"Just lonesome sisters with hearts filled with regrets and all the words we should have said before."
Holy hell ladies, that was stunning
|
|
|
Post by Einar on Jan 5, 2019 13:49:12 GMT
well done everyone involved, those were some fantastic logs!
|
|
|
Post by spacedaisy on Jan 6, 2019 9:15:51 GMT
“I ...” Penny’s voice faltered a bit, “I have to hope so. Otherwise, what are we even doing here?” She turned a questioning gaze to Raq, “If we stop believing in peace, striving for it ... then what have we become?”
"Just lonesome sisters with hearts filled with regrets and all the words we should have said before."
Holy hell ladies, that was stunning
Awe, thanks!
|
|
|
Post by Shawna on Feb 7, 2019 18:25:17 GMT
Stardate 11902.01 w/ CJ as Sara Sumner
Raqiin didn't bother to ring the chime of the ready room, inviting herself to barge on in. A breach of etiquette she was not normally for, but whatever Sara was up to or thinking about in the minute since she'd left couldn't possibly be any worse than Raqiin had already seen.
That, and she was just mad and didn't always know how to work with that, given her generally placid nature.
Sara was not behind her desk, as expected. The sound of a running faucet revealed her whereabouts, and she soon emerged from the small washroom, blotting a towel against her face. She seemed unsurprised to find Raqiin waiting.
"What was that about?" Her stalks bent forward in aggravation, frustration. After a beat, she added, "Ma'am."
"Right?" Sara replied, before flopping into her chair. Further information did not seem imminent.
"'Right', what do you mean 'right', I'm not talking about the Cardassians, I'm talking about you." Everyone on the bridge was acting left of center, and Raqiin had no idea the cause of any of it. Just that it was. Was it Tony, at least in part? "I'm talking about whatever gung-ho heroism you're playing at. Whatever's gotten into you to make you so anxious that you want to put the ship in danger to make some kind of point."
"Yeah, I was referring to that, too," admitted Sara. Her voice was uncharacteristically soft, and in that moment, she seemed profoundly tired.
"It's not heroism, I know that much," she offered. "I'm not trying to win any medals, I just... I dunno. I'm mad at the Breen for taking my friend. I'm mad at the Cardassians for fuckin' several things, not the least of which is almost getting my crew killed and threatening my family. And maybe I'm scared, and maybe I'm mad about being scared, and maybe for all my principle about leading with my heart, maybe it's actually a shitty way to lead."
"...We're on a mission of goodwill here. We don't have to solve this entire sector's problems, or drive back the Breen for good, or drive back the Cardassians for good. We're here as both a show of force and to help aid people who've gotten left behind because of a stupid civil war that's been threatening to turn into multiple wars on multiple fronts just because the Federation's distracted by its own politics."
It was hard to stay mad, but Raqiin wasn't ready to give it up just yet. "Out there was not a good look for the first mission back in the seat after...everything that happened back on Earth."
Sara's expression transitioned from sadness to anger to amusement with alarming rapidity, and she ultimately just chuckled and tossed the little towel onto her desk.
"Aside from being nicer to the Cardassians, how would you have handled the situation, Commander?" she asked, turning to face Raqiin fully.
"I wouldn't have used the slipstream drive for less than a lightyear. That's a start. It's repaired, but it's had its issues before, and it wasn't intended for short jumps like that. We're not going to be of much help to anyone if we rip a hole through engineering." But Sara's question had a bit of a point to it. Other than that, and playing along with the Cardassians for the potential for more information, was there anything else she would have done differently? Making themselves a shield while they transported the Romulans, she still surely would have done that. If the Breen and Cardassians were in on it together, surely they wouldn't have actually blown up the ship? But if they weren't in on it, then the Cardassians would've been late anyway.
Or maybe the Cardassians were late on the draw because they knew Starfleet ships were hanging around and wanted to make a point. They didn't have enough information. And it didn't change the fact that the captain seemed to be acting out through some sort of negative emotion coloring her orders.
"You've been uptight ever since that other ship that may or may not be spying on us dropped Tony off. You went from gleefully poking fun and asserting we should get our navigation officer drunk and being...yourself to whatever's going on right now. Hard to hide that from your crew, much less an empath."
Sara stared at Raqiin for a moment before replying.
"I'll spare you the speech about putting ourselves at risk to help others, as I'm sure you already know it by now. Using the QSD was the right decision in the moment."
She stood from her chair and stepped over towards the windows, watching the various celestial bodies whip by.
"I'm worried about Starfleet," she added, finally addressing the more important concern. "I'm bothered that they thought to make an example of people for trying to uncover the truth. I'm bothered that they feel the need to babysit me. Why are they so threatened by someone trying to do the right thing?"
She turned to Raqiin once more.
"That's rhetorical, obviously. So, that's mostly why I'm uptight. Also I fell in love with the woman Tony walked out on and I have complicated feelings about it in addition to his walking out on us, so I'm not thrilled to have him back aboard. That's... that's the other part of the equation."
"Wow."
That was blunt, but at least it was honest. The anger was finally dissipating, and Raqiin approached the desk to sit on the edge, tucking a leg under her and letting the other dangle. Sara was such a far cry from the early days of the Bremen with Captain Griffiths. Was her leniency and tendency to rulebreak and care less for the letter (or sometimes even the spirit) of regulations a downside or an upgrade? Some days it was hard to tell.
"You didn't have to make him Chief, y'know. He got busted down in rank, and Oleg's...I don't know how Oleg's gonna take all this. I hope well enough. I'm just saying you could've let him stay low. Less likely to come up to the bridge that way, if that's going to cause friction." Raqiin shook her head and gave a mirthful laugh. "My history with Tony is way less complicated than yours, but trust me, it's still complicated. I want to be happy he's here, even though he pointed a weapon at me and all but accused me of being a spy last time. Even though he left. Even though he left without saying goodbye. And I still think..."
She trailed off, staring down at the carpeting. Tony, who had been a mentor, a friend, flirty and fun, but so stubborn and so complicated and so smart and so stupid at the same time. Compared to her own idealization. Her naivete. After all these years, she still had those, didn't she? It was her nature, sure, but wasn't part of it Tony deliberately protecting her? Protecting them both. Protecting all of them. Or maybe, specifically, her. How did he expect her to reconcile with all the trouble he went through?
And then there was the Starfleet problem. The conversation with the surrendered 31 captain. Political and ideological differences. If Starfleet and the Federation as a whole--but specifically Starfleet, 31 was very much a product of Earth design--had already fought itself to pieces, been secretive, splintering, then who was to say those issues would ever be solved?
"I'm trying to make the best of this."
Sara leaned against the bulkhead, sighing softly as she gazed at nothing in particular.
"We all are, Raq," she asserted. "It's messy. It's really messy, and there's stakes big and small, and... I don't have any easy answers. I don't have some clear ideal to latch onto with any of this besides just not hiding from it and offering way too much information, but we'll figure it out."
Her eyes focused and she looked once more to her friend, managing something of a smile.
"If nothing else, I know that much."
"He's still gonna be out there when you're done here, probably. I had to give him the bridge at least until Hamlet's back at his station." Raqiin tilted her head to glance over at Sara out of the corner of her eye, trying to hide something of a smirk. "You see the way new girl was around him? You really know how to attract a bunch of troublemakers to your ship, huh."
"We do seem to gather, don't we?" Sara mused. She pushed off the wall and wended around to Raqiin's side of the desk, now leaning on that bulkhead.
"I know I need to do better," she admitted. "I'm sorry."
"Might as well put as many of them in the same place as possible. Makes them easier to watch." She meant it jokingly, although that experimental ship being out there conveniently was still...convenient.
But Raqiin finally lifted her head fully, rolling her shoulders in a shrug. "I thought you made a few reckless choices out of anger and some misguided attempt to prove yourself. Like if you could fix this situation, it might get you that much closer to fixing the personal stuff. Maybe I was only half right. I didn't bring any of it up on the bridge because...I do trust you. I trust you to do what you think is right. And what's right is something we can agree on. And I know being captain's no fun. I've been in your position a couple of times now; the constant nagging doubt is...well. It is. Sorry I was upset." She pulled her other leg up to sit crosslegged on the desk. "You...want me to run interference with Tony until you two can figure out a way to sort stuff out?"
"No," said Sara, not sounding entirely certain. "No, I'm a big girl. I can be polite. And I'll talk to Oleg, too. I maybe didn't think that assignment through all the way."
Sara stepped forward and gently put a hand on Raq's shoulder.
"I picked right for my XO. You've had to take the seat more than I would've guessed, but you've done an outstanding job every time. And you do the more important job of keeping me honest pretty flawlessly, so, if you're trying to get fired, you're doing a terrible job."
Raqiin wrinkled her nose. "I think if I wanted you to fire me, I'd have to be prim and proper and snottily by-the-books. Flashing myself in front of a crowd of groupies sure won't do it. Fistfight? Ugh, but then I'd be doing violence. At least you'd know it wasn't me if someone who looks like me slugs someone in the jaw, no matter how deserved."
She put a hand over Sara's, smiling. "Maybe those semesters of psychology really do come in handy in some sort of weird, subconscious way. I'll trust you not to do anything too stupid with or around or to Tony, and I'll call you out if you do. And I'm here if you do need some interference. We both know how bad he is at backing down. Sounds like someone else I know."
"I'm gonna try very hard not to hatch a plot to get you drunk enough to flash people, but I'm telling you now that I will fail," warned Sara.
"Is this going to be the same time as getting Migonna drunk? Because that might get very hard to handle."
"The secret to a good party is chaos, and that's the one thing I'm sure I'm good at. The hard part will be making sure Oleg is present when it happens."
"I trust you with this ship, this crew, and my life." Raqiin let that hang in the air for a prolonged moment. "But I absolutely do not trust you with access to alcohol and no one to stop your bad ideas."
"You know me so well," Sara observed with a grin.
"In the meantime," Raqiin continued with a roll of her eyes, finally getting up off the desk, "we still have a lot of unanswered questions and nothing but trouble brewing. Once we've got our Romulan guests back safe and sound, are we going to go back out on patrol and see what else pops out and surprises us?"
"Something like that," said Sara, finally slipping back to a more professional mindset. "We'll inform Starfleet of the situation and see what they have to say, as well as the Romulans. Then we'll go from there."
"Better to be on the side of caution," Raqiin agreed. "I'll tell Rebecca to shoot an update off and then hail the Romulans when we're in range. And try to keep the peace on the bridge. It was getting weird out there."
Sara nodded her assent.
"Sounds good. I'll be out in a bit, just wanna get settled first."
"Take your time. If any surprises happen, I can handle them." Raqiin decided it felt good to say something like that, knowing the sorts of terrible surprises that happen around them, and mean it. She gave a little wave, pushing from the desk and heading for the door. "We got this."
Sara smiled and waited for the door to close.
"Hopefully."
|
|
|
Post by Einar on Feb 7, 2019 19:36:40 GMT
wow
can you two stop outclassing the rest of us like that?
fantastic writing and emotion.....and I kinda feel guilty for creating drama now, but not really.
|
|
|
Post by Shawna on Feb 28, 2019 0:15:54 GMT
Stardate 11902.27
Raqiin's frown only deepened the longer she stared at the screen.
She was not in the habit of hating or even distrusting whole species on principle, but Cardassians were a particular sore spot. She was certain the majority of their people weren't like this. Duplicitous, scheming, conniving. Smarmy. Political. Oh, sure, they admitted that it looked bad, acknowledged that there was perfectly good reason for this alliance not to be trusted, and yet smoothly suggested that the Federation wasn't holding up where it ought to and that they could step in. It almost sounded good.
Over the years she had gained a healthy skepticism of others and had, apparently, more patience for the subtle tit-for-tat of saying something with a smile on the surface and meaning or implying something else underneath than the captain did. It helped when she could read another, but even when she could read a Cardassian in person, they always seemed so calm and on top of things, knowing they had everything under control with an ace up their sleeve. One step ahead. Useful to know when to call a bluff. Or to realize they were outmaneuvered.
Bad enough that even with the civil war winding down, there were still pressures on all sides from enemies or former allies, the narrow tightwalk between peace and war leaning farther and farther toward the latter while they were weakest. To have several enemies of the Federation start teaming up? Enemies that had cloaks of their own, and presumably now access to underspace? Enemies banding together and trying to garner goodwill and sharing technology that was difficult to counter against just one race.
Cardassians and Breen. And Tholians. And Tzenkethi, despite not being technically part of the pact but a likely ally with the peace supposedly brokered by the Cardassians on behalf of the Breen.
By the Throne, what were they supposed to do about all that?
Their Romulan allies were at least healthily skeptical, and certainly other powers would be as well. But what if they actually did what they set out to do? Help where Federation ships were slower to reach, spread out too thin? Offer protection and then follow through? What would they have to lose when there was everything to gain if they could just gain trust, gain traction?
Raqiin huffed and finally swiped the several articles on the matter from the screen, scrolling through the rest of FNN that had nothing to do with it. Looked like the burgeoning issues with space traffic control back home were finally coming to a head. It was only a matter of time. Might get to a point where visiting her parents would be more difficult if not impossible during leave time. Just one more thing to worry about.
Right, so, reading the rest of the news wasn't going to make her feel any better. She scrolled by a few more articles, saving a couple for later, when she was less frustrated, and then closed it out entirely. They were going to have a mess on their hands, and soon. Especially if they weren't allowed to talk to the Cardassians in the first place. (Good luck indeed to the Charon in the face of this.) Maybe an unruly, maverick crew wasn't the best kind to be out here. Maybe they'd get pulled somewhere else, away from this.
And maybe she wouldn't mind that so much.
|
|
|
Post by Shawna on May 1, 2019 22:52:07 GMT
Stardate 11904.04 w/ Babs as Rebecca Terell and Annie as NPCs
=== <GD_Annie> <Barkeep> @::looks up as they enter, gives them an annoyed look:: XO/OPS: You lot finally going to do something I see... <OPS_Lt_Terell>@ XO: I understand, if there's any problems, we'll just have to move on. ::grabs an empty seat at the bar:: <XO_Cmdr_shHruvek> ::raises her eyebrows but smiles politely all the same, sidling up to the bar with Terell:: Barkeep: Funny how many people you can fit on a starship that can all be doing different things to help, right? ::leans her elbow on the bar, chin in hand:: Feel free to join the joint contingent investigating the explosion. <GD_Annie> @<Barkeep> ::waves his arm to motion to his bar:: XO: I'm taking care of my business, how about Starfleet? ::tosses the towel aside and crosses his arms:: I don't know anything about anything. I was here until the explosion, and now I'm just waiting on power to be restored. Luckily, no power doesn't stop people from wanting to drink. <XO_Cmdr_shHruvek> ::gives a light laugh and waves off his concerns:: Barkeep: Calm down, we're not here to start accusing people of being a mad bomber, and we're definitely not here to keep you from doing your job. We'll ask a couple questions, do a little business, be on our way. No arrests, promise! <GD_Annie> @<Barkeeper> ::Eyes Raq distrustfully but shrugs:: XO: Whatever, just don't scare my business off. ===
“See, all you have to do is quit being so scary.” Raqiin elbowed Rebecca lightly before turning and letting her gaze settle around the bar. Don’t be too suspicious, don’t be too authoritative, just be a couple of pretty officers Doing Something so as to not scare anyone off. She nodded to someone sitting by their lonesome. “Check your seven. Promising?” The man she indicated was a Bajoran sitting at a table, hunched over a half drunk ale of some sort. His hair was mussed and his clothes look worn and disheveled. Over all he gave the impression of being distinctly tired. His gaze slid to the corner at a burst of raucous laughter from a table where three humans sat, drinking and talking almost as if this were a normal day and nothing out of the ordinary had happened. Meanwhile at the end of the bar was a woman, she didn’t look like someone who worked on a freighter. A local maybe. She watched the two Starfleet officers with an feigned air of disinterest.
“Awww.. and I was gonna do a pirate sneer and everything.” Becca grinned at Raqiin and turned to seven o’clock, taking in the disheveled man’s appearance. “If he’s part of a crew, I don’t think he’s a captain. Probably lower ranks, probably has been there for some time, I’d guess - he certainly doesn’t look like he’s trying to impress anyone. Or maybe a dock worker. Still, he looks like he might know something.” “Him first, then we can try the rowdy group over yonder.” It wasn’t the first time Raqiin thought that maybe they weren’t the best group to go poking around bars after a disaster asking questions, but hey--it was for the good of the group. If they could get to the bottom of the attacks, they could stop said attacks. Good for business. She made her way over to the Bajoran, nodding at the seats around him. “These open?” The man lifted his eyes to take in this unexpected intruder, and studied her for a second with unsteady gaze. This clearly wasn’t his first drink. He shrugged and took a long gulp from his glass. Then drawing the back of his hand across his mouth he replied, “Don’t see anyone else fighting you for them, so be my guest.” The presence of two lovely young women at his table encouraged him to straighten his posture a bit, though it didn’t much improve his overall appearance. “I’m Rhon,” the declaration was followed by a lingering look of curiosity. Raqiin took a seat with a smile, gesturing between the officers. “Commander sh’Hruvek, this is Lieutenant Terell; we’re from the USS Chiron parked overhead. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Rhon. We were hoping to ask around a couple of questions--nothing to worry about, I promise. We were actually interested in what you’ve seen or maybe heard through the grapevine about the Breen attacks. Obviously bad for business, and they’ve been pretty unusual.” His posture drooped again, disappointed by her question; he’d hoped for once he was having some luck. Rhon gave a noncommittal shrug as he tipped his glass back and drained the remainder of his cup. “Don’t know much about them. Heard some of the captains talking about it a few times, but that’s about it.” “Know where we might go to talk to these captains?” Rebecca asked. “Any ships in particular, or maybe which bar they usually hang out at?” He shrugged again, “I don’t recall what ships, but I know it’s got them all angry.” He spun his empty glass, eyeing her for a second, “They won’t likely want to talk to you either, Starfleet isn’t exactly their favorite organization these days.” His chair scraped across the wood plank floor as he stood and headed for the bar to get a refill. As he reached the bar, the woman leaned forward and engaged in a quick, quiet conversation with a couple glances in the direction of the two Starfleet officers. “Could be he’s not a captain.” Raqiin gazed after him, chin lightly placed in hand. “Buuut I’m thinking we might be about to hit a bigger jackpot. That, or he’s warning her off about us.” The woman dropped some cash on the bar and slid off her stool. She walked towards them, but then passed on by with nothing more than a quick nervous glance in their direction and then she was out the door. “Ok..” Becca watched the woman’s quick exit. “I’d say follow her, but then there’s that not getting into trouble part. And we don’t want to make it look like we’re hunting her down or anything. Let’s see if this other group can tell us anything first.” She had her doubts about them. They seemed too carefree, which meant they apparently hadn’t bothered to check the local news, or it didn’t bother them. Either of which seemed strange, having chosen a bar at the edge of a bombing investigation. “We were warned we wouldn’t make a good impression.” And no, following would seem worse. Suspicious at best. Raqiin sighed and slid out of her seat. “Just as I was getting comfy…” To the humans it was. Becca scooted her chair back and stood, picking her way around a few empty tables to where the trio of people sat in the corner of the room. She interjected a greeting into a space in their conversation, hoping they’d be friendlier than their last encounter, at least. “Hello, may we join you?” Three sets of eyes swiveled over in their direction. Then the loudest of the men lifted a glass as if in a toast and grinned, “Not at all ladies, pull up a chair!” The blonde woman with him, scraped her chair across the floor as she scooted to make room for them at the table. She cast a glare at the third member of their party, a slight and pale man with dark hair. “Ricky, make room, would ya!” He seemed startled as if the thought had never occurred to him and then complied. The first man continued to beam a smile at them as he watched them take a seat. “It’s not often we see Starfleet gracing these parts. And such lovely representatives to boot. I’m James Caldwell, Captain of the Destiny. How can we help you? Or were you just looking for pleasant drinking companions and we seem to fit the bill?” His eyes twinkled as he took a gulp of his drink and looking to the bar he raised his hand to get the bartender’s attention then made a circular motion towards each member of the party to indicate he wanted another round for them all. Raqiin smiled at the lot. They were certainly more jovial company, and a little bit of charm can go a long way. She thanked them, taking a seat. “I’m afraid we’re on a little bit of business. But I’ll take pleasant drinking companions as a bonus. We were hoping to ask about the Breen raids. Sordid business, I know, but we’re trying to figure out just what’s going on with that, and...not everyone seems to know much or are keen on talking. Maybe you could help us out?” The captain shook his head, “Getting harder to make a decent living out here, I tell ya. I had some mods done to Destiny a couple weeks ago after a friend of mine had a near miss with a Breen raider. Added a little bit of firepower to her.” The blonde snorted and drew a deep drink from her glass, draining the last of its contents. The bartender came round and delivered five drinks for the table and she winked at him and traded in her empty glass for the new, then finally spoke up, “I don’t know that his story was all true. You know how Mullins is. He’ll spin a tale to anyone willing to listen.” “Especially if you’re paying for drinks,” Ricky added. “Yeah, yeah, yeah. But not even you two can deny the attacks have picked up lately.” James took a drink and set it down again with a satisfied sigh. Becca nodded in gratitude to the bartender as he set a local ale in front of her. “Did you run into any Breen yourself, after upgrading your weapons?” she asked the captain after settling into the seat she was offered. “And maybe, if you can recall when about these attacks started picking up? We’ve heard a few unusual things. Especially given the idea that they’re just attacking and not doing a whole lot else.” Raqiin leaned in casually, spinning her glass slowly between her fingers. “Raiders are one thing, but this seems...different, right?” He nodded thoughtfully and took a deep pull from the full glass. “In the past Breen were after cargo or people for forced labor. A lot of people around here think the Federation is behind it, so you probably won’t get the warmest welcome. Other people think it’s the Cardassians though.” He shrugged, “I don’t care to guess. I’ll shoot first and ask questions later. That’s why I’m running a private ship and not in Starfleet.” He lifted his glass in a mock toast with a twinkle in his eye and took another long gulp. The woman spoke up, “We never had a run in with them before or after. He just spooks easy.” She winked at Becca as if to say Men, right?. “You won’t be saying that if those weapons save yer ass woman!” The Captain grumbled into his glass. Ricky finally offered some input into the conversation, “Is say it’s been an uptick like in the past couple weeks, just before the Pact was announced and they’ve kept up since. Way more attacks than I’ve heard about before really.” “Whoever it is, they are determined. I will say this though, the Cardassians seem pretty diligent about stopping them. I’d say about 80% of them are stopped by Cardassians ships,” James added. “Wow.” Raqiin propped her chin in hand. The surprise was mock, but still. The information was concerning, the idea that people might actually think the Federation would have a hand in it. “They’re doing a good job, even if the raiders don’t seem to be doing a whole lot more right now than shooting first and asking questions apparently never. I’m confident the Federation’s going to pick up the slack, obviously, but that’s still an alarming increase in activity.” And convenient for the Cardassians, of course, to be stopping a majority of those raids. These added, extra raids that have so quickly started. But was that too easy, too simple? Surely the Pact could come up with a more subtle tactic. Right? “How fortunate that the Cardassians just happened to be patrolling nearby, yeah? We should be thanking them for saving lives...” Becca added diplomatically, knocking back the rest of her drink. “Maybe they’re not that bad after all.” Someone had to play the devil's advocate...
|
|
|
Post by Shawna on Jul 13, 2019 11:57:48 GMT
Stardate 11907.11
Right. Right. List of crew. Round them up--one at a time. Put someone in charge but who? Who could she possibly trust if everyone was a suspect?
No. Don't think like that. Just pick one security officer. One at a time to the ready room. It'll take a while, but, rooting out a potential spy would be. Since they still haven't found the person (or persons?) responsible ever since...ever since before Tony was brought back aboard for his inquisition.
It's a bit of a numb job, rooting through duty rosters and making an organized list. It doesn't get rid of the deep pit in her stomach, but it does keep her heart calm. Something numbing to do before rushing off.
Because she's going to rush off the second she gives the assignment off. It's been some time, the lab rats and transporter techs rooting through everything that murdered all those people, simply dissipated them, dispersed their molecules so far and wide with no hope of bringing them back. But she has to help. She has to help, because she was supposed to protect these people. She was supposed to keep the Ibis crew from harm. And she failed. Even if it was unforeseen, even if it wasn't her fault, even if there was nothing she could do or could have done. It doesn't make the pit close up any.
She has to help, and she has to...supervise. She's never going to be a spy, never would be able to have the kind of fortitude that their infiltrator does, but she can still try and keep a sly eye out on everyone that's still working dilligently. Just in case. Just in case she catches something. In case she catches a stray emotion, an odd look, a tell. She's not half-bad at catching out a liar, feeling out ill intentions, even if she's distracted. But she has to help, however she can. Transporter tech isn't her forte, never has been, but she can gather what information together they can, try and leave Hamlet free on his end to do what he can, and she can examine individual parts, run some scans.
What she expects is days of painstaking work combing through everything and having no concrete answers. Oh, sure, it takes time to check through it all, to doublecheck, but she doesn't anticipate the answers to come so readily. Almost easily.
Maybe because it's sloppy. A rush job, something slapped together at the last second. This wasn't something planned months in advance, waiting for the right moment--apparently the right moment presented itself, and the traitor had to work fast.
What becomes readily apparent from there is that there's nothing fancy or detailed or terribly special to the work. Maybe that's how they were able to figure out what happened to those people with relative ease. Something quick, sloppy, on the fly. What it means is that someone had to be in the room to do it. No remote trigger, as they had all feared, no nefarious and meticulous plot. Just the realization that they were going to be sending a group of people through the transporter, perhaps including a prime target, and got to work.
What it means is that the most likely culprit is one of the transporter techs that were here, according to the duty roster she had so painstakingly read over. If not both of them. What it means is that Ensign Siwara and Lieutenant Moritori have jumped quite instantaneously to the top of the suspect list.
She excuses herself under the guise of getting something to drink and hits her combadge. "sh'Hruvek to the captain, I hope I'm not interrupting..."
|
|
|
Post by Einar on Jul 15, 2019 19:24:26 GMT
great log Shawnster!
|
|
|
Post by Shawna on Sept 23, 2019 1:31:36 GMT
Stardate 11909.12
It's funny, the way things turned out with Sara.
Funny, she finds it, the way she can shift from distaste and discomfort to an easy smile. The way they can both relax around each other, when it's just them, when it's them being honest with each other.
Funny how she used to not care terribly much for Sara when they first met.
Oh, she didn't hate the (then-new) captain by any means. They'd even had a very brief discussion on the matter once, locked in a cell. She'd never hated Sara, and really, even as a person, she couldn't honestly say she disliked her. Perhaps had some firm opinions on the subject of one Captain Sara Sumner, but--
Well, as a captain, she'd left quite a lot to be desired.
To be fair, Captain Griffiths was a hard act to follow. A fine man, stern, respectable, personable but only to a point that Raqiin had stumbled past a handful of times, trying to find where the line was. Fond of the rules and regs. You always knew where you stood with him, not because he would say so, but because his demeanor was predictable, especially to an empath like her. Or at least, that's how she remembered things. How many years ago was that now? An impossibly long time, it felt. When she was still young and--green, that was the colorful term.
So Sara the wild child with her particular brand of disdain for rules, penchant for wearing whatever she wanted, loud and rude and crude when she wanted to be, wearing anger like a badge of honor, it...had not seemed to Raqiin like the best choice for the good ship Bremen. Sara had an unpredictability about her, a strong stubborn streak that was just the wrong kind of stubborn for captaincy, and Raqiin had wondered more than once if her assignment hadn't been some kind of punishment. For the crew or for the captain, she never could decide which.
They've both grown into their roles and in how they saw one another. Raqiin was hardly afraid to call out the captain when she felt the need, and Sara didn't give her any type of hell for it. They were comfortable with each other, with how they each conducted their business. They trusted one another in a way that, at least on Raqiin's part, they hadn't so long ago. It was Sara who placed so much trust and confidence in her to make her XO when they were at last given a new ship. Encouraged her onto more of a command path, and to loosen up.
(Funny how she didn't consider that she needed loosening up until Sara.)
The loss of the old ship--their near-death on it, in point of fact--and the uncertain time apart practically at the height of the war had helped, in a sense. Helped her appreciate Sara's looser interpretation of regs, her unwavering personal moral stance, and the casual fun brought on that her former captain simply hadn't brought to the table. Their secrets, their conspiracies, their equal need for the truth to come out no matter the cost; their loyalty to their crew and their friends and their families; their casual friendship, light camaraderie, the teasing jokes even on duty--
Raqiin was an only child and sometimes thanked the stars for that. But if she didn't know better, she imagined this to be what having a sister would be like.
Funny how a few years in the fire could steel a relationship like that.
|
|
|
Post by Shawna on Nov 14, 2019 14:46:31 GMT
Stardate 11911.07 w/ CJ as Sara Sumner
"Sumner to sh'Hruvek," Sara's voice called over the combadge. "Swing by the Ready Room when you have a moment, Raq." Only inevitable, of course, to have a debrief with the captain. Raqiin's been trying fairly hard not to be too terribly disappointed in the way the mission's gone, pushing onward, but it's...difficult to say the least. Back in uniform, she takes a stop in the Ready Room, dinging the chime and entering when allowed. "Captain." Raqiin entered to find Sara standing at the window, leaning on the frame in an image that could only be described as 'forlorn.' She'd finally managed to find a normal duty jacket, but it was of course unzipped and disheveled. After another moment of abyss gazing, Sara turned to her First Officer, folding her arms.
"I feel like I've got a pretty thorough list of the things I did wrong, but if you have any to add, now's the time," she offered. "For once? I don't think you need my help in beating yourself up about it." Raqiin rarely held back when she disagreed with something Sara did in command, but what more was there for them to do? "It was as by the book as we could make it without compromising any moral or legal high ground. And this is..."
She trailed off, nervous fingers fiddling with her sleeves as she came to take a perch on the desk. "This is bigger. This is bigger than we expected. Between extremely dangerous technology, and Section 31, bombs, distractions, assassinations, mystery people mysteriously showing up in your office giving mysterious messages--what did we stumble into the middle of?" The Captain shrugged her shoulders a bit, leaning more fully on the bulkhead.
"Same thing we stumbled into at Sigma Rho, where we started a civil war by doing the right thing," she stated ruefully. "All of the bullshit we see is minuscule compared to what we don't see, and I'm sure there are whole divisions dedicated to trying to predict what that bullshit will be." "I'm sure there were hundreds of things we could've done differently, but would we have been happy with ourselves at the end if we had?" Not that they were necessarily happy with themselves now. "And if we don't keep on doing the right thing in the face of everything, where does that leave us?" Sara couldn't help a smile, her friend naturally hitting on the thing that was eating at her now.
"Younger me would say that we'd be part of the problem at that point," she mused. "That we'd be no better than Section 31, which would be wrong." "Younger you definitely had her moments," Raqiin noted with some amusement. "What does present you say?" Sara took a deep breath, nodding slightly to herself as she organized her thoughts.
"I think this is how it happens," she began. "You do the right thing, and it goes bad, and you start to doubt yourself. Was it really the right thing? Are my ideals wrong? If so, what are the right ones? How can I still do the right thing and make sure it doesn't go wrong?
"And it's this endless barrage of questions and insecurities, and it all seems to lead to the same conclusion: how could our ideals possibly be worth the lives lost in their pursuit?"
The frown was a tired one, helping to wear a now-familiar crease in Sara's brow.
"That's where I'm at, I guess. Because I was unwilling to spy on Federation citizens, a boy lies close to death in my sickbay and a family is shattered. The people we were looking for now have time to go to ground and get away. Telling myself that I did this the only way I could doesn't really justify the outcome in my mind." Not the sort of thing the XO cared to hear. "It's scary how much you can sound like Henry sometimes." Maybe that was slightly unfair, but she didn't think it was necessarily wrong.
"Say we spy. Which, I reiterate, we're not exactly good at. Not the most subtle crew, us. But say we spy, through our own means, or through forcing the hand of the local governments. You think that helps? You think sowing that kind of distrust is wise? Then what, we start arresting civilians, stealing them away in the middle of the night because we decided they were in the wrong place at the wrong time? When we start infringing on the rights of Federation citizens, the rights it's our duty to uphold, the rights of our people, where does it end? At what point do you find the line you're not willing to cross after you've already crossed lines to get where you are?" Another knowing smile as Sara tightened the knot of her arms.
"Exactly," she said. "Not about the Henry thing, that was rude; but yeah, this is exactly where Section 31 wants people like us to be. To do the right thing, to see it not work out how we want, and to give up on doing the right thing for reasons that seem perfectly acceptable in our moments of grief."
Sara thought of Paul, sitting in his guest quarters, waiting for news about his nephew. She thought of Celeste and Maurice on the world below, grieving for their lost daughter, and the profile of the angry woman that had emerged when it came to Elise.
"Section 31 is a vile, cruel organization. They know precisely when an individual is at their lowest, and that's when they pour their bitter honey. They use your pain and your grief and your rage to serve their purposes and the discard you when you cease to be of use, and the only way we can beat them, the only way to truly defeat them is to do the right thing, lose, and keep doing the right thing anyway." "You know, I'm starting to think being XO means being a moral compass and emotional rock."
Raqiin swung her legs, thoughtful despite the jab. "I can tell you right now that the day you decide to not do the right thing is the day I put my transfer request in. Because doing the right thing is hard. Sometimes it's the hardest thing to do. But when you let your convictions crumble, then you've lost. Which makes you one of the strongest people I've ever known. For whatever it's worth." "Transfer request? The day that happens I expect nothing less than a mutiny," quipped Sara as she shoved off the bulkhead and moved closer to the desk.
"And your job as XO is absolutely to call me out on my shit, and you do an outstanding job of it. I know if I ever lose you on something, I've probably messed up pretty hard." "Then you know. This could've gone a lot of different ways. Some of them might have even been better. But we made the choices we did, you gave the orders you did, because we thought it was the right way to go about it. The Section lives to fight another day, but so do we."
It didn't help the people that were hurt or killed along the way, but it was less their own failings and more just a glaring example of how far their fellows had fallen. Schisms. Could they have acted quicker, saved a family several times over? Maybe. But dwelling on maybes was a path of madness.
"So what's the next move? Besides...waiting on news." "Mr. Bechard is documenting what he knows about Elise's contacts," recounted Sara. "Someone named 'Leroux.' Once we have that information, we continue the hunt until we're told otherwise, and then I guess I make a number of decisions about my career." The smile on Sara's face hinted that the last maybe wasn't entirely serious. "We might not be good at spy stuff, but we are good at hunting and digging. Though for once, I wouldn't mind a little help along the way. We ever figure out if that shiny new ship that was helping with the escorting before all this went down was on the up and up?" Raqiin scrunched up her face. "We're not going to have to start jumping at more shadows and suspect all of our allies, are we? That's exhausting." "I think there some balance between not being surprised by it and always expecting it," reasoned Sara. "Basically trust until given reason not to kind of thing. Have Terell get on the line and see what the Aether's status is. My guess is they'll be tied up, but that'll give us reason to call Command for backup. I'll get a hold of planetary admin and see how long I can keep traffic locked down in the meantime."
As plans formed for the immediate future, Sara ran a hand through her hair and heaved a sigh.
"What's your read on the Andorian security officer?" she asked. "I don't get the sense she's directly involved. I didn't get the sense that she felt guilty for anything or that she was necessarily hiding anything, but she did seem defensive." Raqiin shook her head, crossing her arms lightly. "She's known--she knew Elise for a long time. Still thought fondly of her, despite their differences that drove them apart. She steered me toward...well. Who we've got now. Mostly I think she liked the family well enough that she didn't want to speak ill of them, but knew that if anyone would be helping her, it'd be one or both of them."
She chewed her lip for a moment. "That, and she really didn't seem like the type to go back to that kind of lifestyle after managing to leave it." Sara gave an understanding nod.
"Understandable," she murmured, rubbing her cheek. "I think there's a non-zero chance we get pulled from this. If we want to pursue this, we may need to do some of it off the books. Think it'd be too much to ask her for basic info gathering in that event?" "I think I can ask, but no guarantees that she'll trust that far or want to put her neck out like that. On the other hand?" A shrug. "There was just a firefight at the Bechard bar not too long after suggesting he might be involved, and no bodies left behind. I'll reach out, see if she can be someone on the inside of this." "Right, just float the idea," said Sara. "Basic looks into names and locations, and relay the info back to us indirectly, if possible. No pressure; she'd be doing us a favor." "I'll make sure to really hammer it home that she doesn't have to, but it'd be...it'd be nice if she did. I don't know how much of what I've already said got through to her, but we'll see." She tilted her head at Sara. "Anything else? Set up a massage appointment for you somewhere nice? You look like you need it." Sara scoffed.
"Like that wasn't half the reason I got married," she quipped, just a hint of her usual mirth showing through. "Besides, it's Migonna's birthday in a couple days. Figure we should throw her a party and use it as an excuse to drink. Like, a lot." "Right, I can finally see what a drunk Orion's like. Maybe you won't be the only one losing your shirt this time." "There's no need to profile, Commander," Sara teased. "But it's a race I intend to win. Making the whole crew see my bits before I retire is my real career goal." "Always the ulterior motives with you, I should have known better." Raqiin grinned slyly. "Keep it up and you'll be retired in no time." Sara managed a snicker.
"One way or the other, right?" "Hey, if the brass can't condemn your professional performance, then they can take a look at your bits and decide a desk job'll keep you out of trouble. As if." "They think I'm a terror now - imagine if I had access to the paperwork." Raqiin gave an exaggerated shudder. "The horror!"
She finally slid off the desk back to the floor. "Seriously, though. You did what you could. Sometimes it's enough, sometimes it's not. You being honest and earnest with the family isn't going to hurt them more than what 31's done to them. And if the brass aren't happy with our performance, well...maybe they ought to take a look at what they're asking us to do, because it's starting to lean into an uncomfortable territory." Sara nodded in reluctant agreement, taking a deep breath as she moved to sit in her chair.
"Yeah. Yeah, we'll... find a way through," she asserted, looking to her dear friend with a tired-but-appreciative smile.
|
|
|
Post by Einar on Nov 15, 2019 16:34:21 GMT
I just love these two
|
|
|
Post by Shawna on Dec 19, 2019 14:07:15 GMT
Stardate 11911.28 Psychological Evaluation: sh'Hruvek, Raqiin; Commander; Executive Officer, USS Chiron As Conducted By: Doctor Talaki Haasaa
Speaking with anyone gifted with empathic abilities is always an interesting experience. I have nothing against any of my fellow doctors in the profession who are well-suited to the art of psychology and psychiatry by means of natural empathy, of course, and do not hold the idea some I will refuse to name here that it is 'cheating'. It's an extremely useful tool in a galaxy full of naturally occurring tools. It just happens to be one I don't possess myself. More to the point, I find reactions from empaths of varying degrees fascinating. Some seem to use it to 'game the system', as it were. To view my emotional state and assess what I might be feeling about their responses and then try to adjust accordingly. Some attempt to use it to get back at me, as though I were an enemy to fight against. Nobody likes mandatory psych evals. There's a level of intimacy that's difficult to get with a near stranger, even as crews are aware of their necessity. It would have been nice if only certain select individuals off the Chiron were indicated such that their resident doctors could carry the load, but as such, Earthside for the crew's leave, I am one of the doctors assigned to lighten the load.
I digress. Commander sh'Hruvek is one such individual possessing of empathic talent. She does not use it for any ill will, nor does she attempt to game the system with it. In fact, in speaking with her, had her ability not been noted in her file, I may not have ever known myself. She is among those who don't advertise her abilities, but neither shies away from it. In a way, it's refreshing. We spoke candidly on the subject of her being an empath in a position of power and responsibility, and she expressed the attitude that her job includes monitoring the emotional wellness of the crew. While I did not disagree that an XO certainly should have responsibilities regarding the health and welfare of her crew, I pointed out that the specific job mentioned is perhaps better suited to a doctor.
We shared a laugh over her pointing out that she felt pressured into taking psych courses in the Academy and thus was moderately qualified. A joke, of course. Less of a joke is how seriously she does take her perceived responsibility, and I can't say she's wrong. I will leave any notation on the state of Captain Sumner to her own doctor, though I will commend the commander for her particular mention of assisting the captain in times of emotional need. I've been told many times that it's lonely at the top.
Speaking on more recent subjects, particularly about New France, the idea of responsibility came up again, more urgently. Though there was no way of knowing who among the crew was a potential spy, much less that they would interfere with the transporter system and thus kill the Ibis crew, she feels a guilt over the incident. Perhaps she genuinely liked Miss Gaudin, or had indicated responsibility for her crew, or even made a promise--always dangerous in situations like these, I find. Whatever personally happened between them, the Ibis crew suffered (I have gotten conflicting reports from those in the field of teleportation theory whether they did in fact suffer or not, and I know even less than Commander sh'Hruvek on the subject) for the machinations of a then-unknown assailant, and she bears a weight in that.
There, too, is some guilt regarding the involvement of Gaudin's family. I have gotten the impression that it's less of a personal guilt of the individual getting hurt and more that through some inaction of her own, she allowed another to be injured. She indicated that others of the away team felt strongly about the incident, and as she was present, she would have felt those emotions of anyone involved. Truly, I find her guilt more applied to the situation: that something happened to put people in danger, and though she was aware of it, she felt powerless to stop it. She's been pragmatic about it in the interim, expressing how things could have gone differently, but that what happened, happened. There was a frankly dangerous line being toed, and she is of the opinion that had they collectively done anything different, that line would have been crossed. I find her moral strength and convictions commendable. Perhaps it's the life of growing up an empath that's made her wise to the knowledge that one can and should be able to express emotions and find release over that which can't be changed and one has no control over.
On the broader subject of the True Federation and the civil war, the exhaustion began to creep in. I'm glad the crew is getting leave, even if it isn't always practical. Though the war may be dwindling down to embers, the cleanup that is inevitable will wear on crews just as much as actual battle. She expressed concern over growing paranoia, the idea that if there are those in the crew they can't trust, those in the Federation higher-ups who turned out to be TF allies, those on other worlds and colonies with anti-Federation sentiment--to see everyone in a light of suspicion isn't in her nature, but she is aware that trust is now a very valuable and dangerous commodity. That she is aware of this potential for paranoia makes her far less likely to be a victim of paranoia. Although I fear her likely to overthink things and start thinking herself into a rut. It's my hope that her fellow crewmates are able to bring her out of such ruts.
My conclusion: Commander sh'Hruvek passes. With flying colors, as the saying goes. Notes: -Her file has a notation on her pacifism. I will continue to notate that here. Suggest it is not as big an issue as Command makes it seem; we can always use those who try to find creative ways to avoid or end conflict. -Request permission to look at one Anthony Adalberto's file. There's a history here that I feel connects to some of her current worries regarding paranoia and guilt.
|
|