Yeah CeJay, damn it Haas! Why can't I stay mad at you?
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USS Sutherland
Detention Center
“I don’t think I heard you correctly?” Admiral Grace asked, surprise evident on his face.
“Me either,” Commander Lavelle added. Lt. Sito fidgeted nervously. Captain Shelby looked at the superior officer with a hard, steady gaze.
“I will not accept your offer.”
Grace was exasperated, “You mean to tell me that you would rather stay locked up than return to command? I’m setting you free here.”
“I, nor Commander Lavelle or Lt. Sito should have never been here to begin with,” Shelby replied.
Grace shrugged, “Consider it a misunderstanding.”
“And if I reclaim command, how do I know we won’t have another misunderstanding?”
“She’s got a point there,” Lavelle added. He blanched when Shelby turned her hard stare on him.
“So, what do you want me to do?” Grace asked, his tone peppered with annoyance.
“One, you expunge this entire episode from our records,” Shelby began, “Two, you return complete control of Sutherland’s operations over to me. I understand your need for jurisdiction over the Urlak kidnapping, but all other matters should remain in the hands of me and my senior officers.”
The admiral sighed and rolled his broad shoulders as he contemplated what she said. “Fine,” he remarked. “Anything else?”
“I want to be in the loop about any operations to resolve the abduction that will involve this crew,” the captain said.
“Just hold on a minute,” Grace replied.
“Sir, you saw what just happened when the captain or the rest of us were not involved,” Lavelle couldn’t help himself. And Shelby let the younger man vent. It was tragic what had happened on the Adamant, and even though Elizabeth knew better than to second guess the actions of a colleague, the tragedy had befallen her crew, it had taken away people who she knew, kids who had been under her charge. Shelby couldn’t help but think that things might have gone better if she hadn’t been removed from command.
The admiral glared at Lavelle, but Sam held his ground. “I’ll consider it.”
“That’s not good enough…sir,” Lavelle said tightly.
“Well, that’s all you are getting Commander,” Grace barked. “And be lucky, extremely lucky at that.”
Shelby put a calming hand on Sam’s shoulder, but the man had one more thing to say, “What about Keta?” He asked, jerking his head toward the cell beside them. The trio had seen them bring her in, but hadn’t been able to talk to her due to the soundproofed wall. “Release her.”
“No,” Grace said, “She attacked Captain Haas. She remains incarcerated until we get to the bottom of it. End of discussion.” The captain squeezed Sam’s shoulder hard and the man finally relented. One battle at a time, she thought to herself. Lavelle glanced back at her as if he could read her mind and he dipped in his head in retreat.
“I accept your terms, Admiral,” Shelby said. Grace nodded briskly, before turning to the guard at the control console. “Release them.”
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USS Sutherland
Chief Medical Officer’s office
Dr. Denise Murakawa had had the holoprojector installed a corner of her office in case she needed medical consultation and demonstrations that couldn’t be effectively displayed on a desktop computer screen. But now she used it for an entirely different purpose.
Admiral Morgan Bateson wrapped an arm around her as he stroked her hair. Denise leaned into him, closing her eyes and imagining he was really in the room with her, though the cold photonics could never really generate the warm vitality of living flesh, though they came scarily close at times. But she knew more about living tissue than anyone aboard, and perhaps about death to unfortunately, and she knew the difference. “I wish I could be there, with you,” Bateson said.
“I do too,” Denise admitted. She didn’t like being vulnerable, she didn’t like relying on anyone, but she needed the barrel-chested man’s strength right now. It had been hours ago, but she still felt like her face was coated with blood, brains, and bone. She had scrubbed it off and then rewashed her face dozens of times, but she didn’t think she would ever get the taint off. And when she closed her eyes all she could see was the demonic mask of the Cardassian’s face exploding and beyond that the contorted features of Triese. And then Triese’s steeled fingers around her neck and the black ocean whose waves had lapped at her, drawing her into their eternity.
“I have scheduled a meeting with the ship’s counselor,” Denise replied.
“Good,” Bateson said softly, stroking her hair again. “You need someone there, to talk to about this as well.”
“I know,” she said, though she doubted Max Freedman would be able to help her get through this. Right now, he had several more severely impaired crewpersons to attend to. At least Denise was able to still function. In fact, she needed her job, retreated into it. But now that most of the stitching and patching up had been done for the Adamant fiasco and things were starting to return to semblance of normality, she was left alone, with her thoughts, and her waking nightmares.
“It just must have been awful,” Bateson said.
“I have seen death, you know that,” Denise said, “but after the war, I was hoping to never see young kids get cut down so needlessly again,” her thoughts flashed back to the war and one of her old colleagues, Lt. Nyota Dryer, another young woman cut down in her prime, just like Jamie Leighton.
“It is a part of our lives, but never a welcome one,” the admiral said soberly, “You handled yourself admirably.”
“Yeah, for what it’s worth,” Murakawa shrugged, “Admiral Grace has even recommended a commendation for me.”
“That’s something,” Bateson said.
“More like a condemnation,” Denise replied, echoing some of the whispered sentiments of her crew. “If it hadn’t been for him and his ego stroking, Captain Shelby would’ve been in command and maybe this wouldn’t have happened.”
“You can’t be sure of that,” Morgan countered.
“So, are you defending Grace now?” The doctor pulled away from him, just enough to look at him with deep disbelief.
“I didn’t say that.”
“So what are you saying?”
“It’s just that going down this road of accusation is not healthy,” Bateson remarked. “A decision was made and lives were lost as a result of it. Even Captain Shelby might not have been prepared for to handle a group of drugged Cardassian soldiers.”
“I’ve served with Shelby for years, I know she would’ve been more than capable, so would Sito,” Denise thought, perversely jolted by the idea of watching Jaxa mow down those monstrous soldiers.
“That very well may be,” Bateson said, wearily, clearly not in the mood to argue, “But that doesn’t change the fact.”
“Or the deaths,” Murakawa said darkly.
“No, it doesn’t change that either,” Morgan admitted. “As soon as this mission is over, I want to see you.”
“I’m not sure that would be a good idea right now,” Denise said, not even believing herself. She had been thinking of taking time off to see Morgan for a while now, but the idea of lounging around with him, after what had just happened, felt wrong, selfish somehow. She was getting to enjoy life that was snatched so cruelly and unnecessarily from others.
“But I thought you wanted to spend some time together,” Bateson said, taken aback by her response.
“I do…but not now,” she said, “I just need some time…to myself.”
“Oh, all right,” the admiral replied, not even hiding his disappointment. “I see.”
“I’m sorry,” Murakawa said, “perhaps I should go.” She pulled completely out of his grasp.
“No, please, not yet.” Bateson reached for her but the medic kept herself out of his orbit.
“I’ve got things to do, and I know you’re a very busy man.”
“Work can always wait when I’m talking to you.”
Murakawa smiled, “That’s so sweet,” she said, “But I really should go.”
“You know I don’t want you to,” the admiral intoned.
“I know,” she said, “but you know how much better I feel when I am productive.”
“Yes,” he smiled, “That’s the Denise I know…and love.” The word pinched her heart. She caressed his face.
“My heart,” she whispered.
“My hopes,” he answered back, before vanishing into the ether. Murakawa took a few minutes, wiping the moisture from her eyes as she composed herself.
She glanced around the brightly gridded room, straightened her uniform jacket and proceeded to the door. She jumped back, startled, when the door opened. Commander Tol was leaning against the door, with a bottle of Romulan ale. His eyes widened in surprise and he smiled.
“Denise, fancy meeting you here,” he said.
“Jadon, the room is all yours,” she stepped around him, but he slid in front of her.
“Hey, I’m getting ready to visit Argelius II, care to join me?” Murakawa looked at him primly. Sometimes she didn’t know how she had made it so long on the Sutherland. Though its reputation of being a party ship was overblown there were still too many officers like Mr. Tol, and even Denise had to admit, the captain too, that liked to engage in revels, even if they sometimes hid their pain behind merriment.
So, it was an even bigger shock to her, when she said, “Yes, I have nothing better to do.”
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