A bad situation gets worse. No trace on where they might have taken T'Ser and Wenera, and with the Eagle openly engaging in hostilities, their treatment might not be too terribly good...
The Star Eagle Adventures IV: All The Sinners, Saints
- Thread starter CeJay
- Start date
SEVEN - THE MEETING
“This mission is over.”
The bald-headed Deltan man on the screen smiled good-naturedly, making Tazla Star forget for just a moment how cunning, ruthless and dangerous he really was. Altee was the kind of man who would have looked perfectly at home at a high-class dinner party, mingling with the guests and entertaining them with funny anecdotes while people of importance and power mistook his smile and inviting demeanor as signs of trustworthiness. And while they whispered all sorts of secrets into his ear, they never realized that he filed each one of them carefully away, in order to use them against them the moment it suited his own goals. Using intimidation, backdoor deals and violence were second nature to him even if on first impression nobody would have been able to guess. But Altee was that kind of man.
“And how exactly have you arrived at that conclusion?” he said, that smile never dropping off his face as if he was engaged in the most amusing conversation.
Tazla Star had long learned to put up with the façade. “You got my report,” she said. “The Eagle fired on Tiaita. The away team they send on took casualties from a full out military assault and was nearly wiped out in the process. Whatever pretenses existed that this was a purely humanitarian mission have been squelched. Surely the Federation Council will realize that Schwarzkopf’s mission here was a failure either because he has been misled to believe that this world was at peace or because he has conveniently omitted the part about their civil war in his earlier reports. Either way he is sure to face repercussions from this. His career is most likely over and you’ll get what you wanted all along.”
The bemused look remained on the Deltan’s face as he steepled his fingers on his desk. “You have never failed to impress me, Taz,” he said and the glimmer in his eye the only indication that he was possibly being sarcastic. “You mean to tell me that you have already figured out exactly what my plans for Tiaita were?”
The Border Service commander hesitated. Altee had an amazing tendency to make people second guess themselves. “I know about you and Schwarzkopf.”
“That we were once friends?” he said and almost chuckled. “My dear, that’s hardly a secret. Neither is the fact that we had a few professional disagreements over the years.”
“But he has become a threat to you,” she said and all of a sudden felt as if the ice she had treaded on was rapidly thinning. It was never a good thing to be too forward with your boss. Especially in this line of work.
Altee waved his hand dismissively. “I wouldn’t put it in such dramatic terminology. But yes, he and his approach are a danger to Federation interests. It would be difficult to deny that after recent events.”
She nodded along slowly. “Alright then. After recent events, wouldn’t it be safe to say that he’s done. Starfleet will have no choice but to recall him.”
At that he smiled again. “Nothing is safe to say in these days, Taz. You should know that better than most.”
Star didn’t like where this was going. The truth was that she was relieved that the situation on Tiatia had escalated. She was not happy about the casualties and the Starfleet hostages that had been taken but at the very least, she thought, the secrecy was over. The civil war had been blown wide open, impossible to ignore by anyone. And with a Starfleet retreat her mission would come to end as well. She had developed sympathetic feelings for the struggle of the New Light and she still hoped that they would be able to overthrow the yoke under which the Ait had been kept for generations but she hated herself for running guns for Altee and behind Starfleet’s back. Especially if these guns were going to be used against Starfleet.
She wanted to be done with this, ride out the remainder of the war in whatever insignificant administrative role Starfleet would allow her to carry out and then resign her commission with the small shred of dignity she had left.
“Starfleet and the Federation are both desperate enough to look the other way when the potential rewards of this little alliance of ours could mean a way to win the war. Schwarzkopf could still turn this around to his advantage and reap all the rewards in the process.”
“I don’t see how.”
“Never underestimate an injured animal, Taz. He’s been backed into a corner and he knows it. He is more dangerous now than he has ever been before.”
“Fine, but how do you plan on ending this now?” she said and in all honesty feared an answer. She had no doubt that he had one. Altee always had an answer.
He shook his head fractionally. “This has never been about ending this. Schwarzkopf is misguided but his ultimate goals are sound. We need Tiatia as an ally. The system is bursting with resources which could greatly alleviate our strained war effort. And getting a foothold this close to Cardassian territory would open up numerous strategic opportunities for this conflict or the next.”
Star could hardly believe it. They were close to losing the war with the Dominion and Altee was already thinking ahead for the next war. She wasn’t sure if it spoke of his confidence towards victory or his lack thereof.
“But not with the current government.”
He nodded with the kind of smile a teacher would give to a student after she had finally understood her lessons. “Regime change remains our best option for a stable and cooperative government.”
“It’s a big gamble.”
“Everything in life is the gamble. You just have to make sure you control the odds.”
“What do you expect me to do? I don’t think I can be very productive in my current role anymore. Not with Eagle lingering right next door.”
“You are absolutely correct.”
Star was glad to hear this. She had no desire to sneak around any longer. The chances her illegitimate dealings with the New Light were discovered had more than doubled now that Eagle was involved. And the last thing she needed was to return to the Starfleet Stockade. A place she had sworn she’d never go back to.
She was startled by a beeping noise coming from a padd sitting next to her computer.
“You will find that your new role will put you into a much better position to carry out your mission,” he said and his smile appeared to grow a few inches. “I think you will find it quite satisfactory.”
Tazla Star picked up the device and looked over the new data that had been uploaded. It contained her new assignment. She could hardly believe her eyes.
“You got to be kidding me?”
“Congratulations, Taz. You’re back in the game.”
* * *
Taz never catches a break, does she? Sooner or later, she's going to decide it's time to quit being a pawn and become a queen. Then--look out!
I have very mixed feelings towards this story. On one hand, I think as a writer you're doing a fantastic job in creating a hell of a situation for your crew, and that of the Bluefin, to get out of. Your characters are very interesting and for that I like it very much. 
On the other...while I understand why people write "Iraq commentary" plots, I tend to get a little turned off by it, as it seems the popular thing to do these days (the TNG relaunch had it too, with the whole Min Zife / Tezwa plotline). I see the criticism, but I think I preferred the balanced picture you provided in "And the Next President Is..." where both sides of the political allegory were allowed to emerge fully fleshed out in such a way that you could really understand why both sides--good people both--thought what they thought.
There's been so much bitterness on both sides over the past eight years that I think it's hard for it not to bring up raw emotions.
I'm not sure that was necessarily the kind of comment you were expecting. Like I said, I very much appreciate your skill as a writer. It's the plotline itself that's giving me mixed feelings.
On the other...while I understand why people write "Iraq commentary" plots, I tend to get a little turned off by it, as it seems the popular thing to do these days (the TNG relaunch had it too, with the whole Min Zife / Tezwa plotline). I see the criticism, but I think I preferred the balanced picture you provided in "And the Next President Is..." where both sides of the political allegory were allowed to emerge fully fleshed out in such a way that you could really understand why both sides--good people both--thought what they thought.
There's been so much bitterness on both sides over the past eight years that I think it's hard for it not to bring up raw emotions.
I'm not sure that was necessarily the kind of comment you were expecting. Like I said, I very much appreciate your skill as a writer. It's the plotline itself that's giving me mixed feelings.
Interesting comments and yes, you are right. It's not what I was expecting.
I always thought this story is quite balanced but it's quite possibly not coming across the same way it was intended. Sometimes these long stories take on a life of their own after a while. There are a lot of characters and an equal amount of different motives and goals here and sometimes one might emerge to become more prominent than the others simply because some characters might get more 'screen-time' in a particular chapter.
There is a lot of ground to cover here though and a number changes in the direction of the overall narrative and I think by the end you will find this to be a much more varied story than you might think. That is if I've done my job right and you have the patience to stick with it to the end.
I of course cannot entirely deny that some elements of this story are inspired by actual events but science fiction and Star Trek in general often is and I believe it makes for more compelling story-telling. This has never been intended however to be an anti-Iraq war story.
In any case I'm always interested in all kinds of feedback even if it isn't positive. It is always fascinating to get a different perspective on something I’ve written and on some occasions it might shape changes for subsequent drafts. I do appreciate your input.
On a separate note, I finally got around printing your 13th Order story. It is a wordy piece of writing though and it'll take me some time to catch up with it. I’m a big fan of the Cardassians, so I have no doubt that I will eventually.
I always thought this story is quite balanced but it's quite possibly not coming across the same way it was intended. Sometimes these long stories take on a life of their own after a while. There are a lot of characters and an equal amount of different motives and goals here and sometimes one might emerge to become more prominent than the others simply because some characters might get more 'screen-time' in a particular chapter.
There is a lot of ground to cover here though and a number changes in the direction of the overall narrative and I think by the end you will find this to be a much more varied story than you might think. That is if I've done my job right and you have the patience to stick with it to the end.
I of course cannot entirely deny that some elements of this story are inspired by actual events but science fiction and Star Trek in general often is and I believe it makes for more compelling story-telling. This has never been intended however to be an anti-Iraq war story.
In any case I'm always interested in all kinds of feedback even if it isn't positive. It is always fascinating to get a different perspective on something I’ve written and on some occasions it might shape changes for subsequent drafts. I do appreciate your input.
On a separate note, I finally got around printing your 13th Order story. It is a wordy piece of writing though and it'll take me some time to catch up with it. I’m a big fan of the Cardassians, so I have no doubt that I will eventually.
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If you need a more printer-friendly format, you may want to try it over at HopeStation (the link in my signature).
I wouldn't call this situation a clone by any means. But I think sometimes the mark of current events comes across in some of the more sarcastic remarks about ragtag insurgencies, regime change, and the like.
It's easier, from my personal standpoint, to appreciate the parallels between the first few DS9 seasons and the current situation than it is the sorts of references that have been cropping up lately both in fanfic and licensed fic--perhaps because there's no way that they could've had any particular axe to grind (or be perceived that way).
And then there's the "one man's terrorist is another man's freedom fighter" relative morals plot that seems so common in Trek. I admit in The Thirteenth Order some of the stuff that happens there could be seen in a similar light...but to me, I see them in the same role as the Italian partisans or the French Resistance: the government they fight is without question illegitimate and in need of overthrowing. And I see what you're doing here, and that the government of Tiaite is also corrupt in its own way. I think maybe it was the use of that expression that kinda rubbed me the wrong way a bit.
But since you took the time to write such a long (and interesting) explanation, I do intend to stick around and see what happens.
I wouldn't call this situation a clone by any means. But I think sometimes the mark of current events comes across in some of the more sarcastic remarks about ragtag insurgencies, regime change, and the like.
It's easier, from my personal standpoint, to appreciate the parallels between the first few DS9 seasons and the current situation than it is the sorts of references that have been cropping up lately both in fanfic and licensed fic--perhaps because there's no way that they could've had any particular axe to grind (or be perceived that way).
And then there's the "one man's terrorist is another man's freedom fighter" relative morals plot that seems so common in Trek. I admit in The Thirteenth Order some of the stuff that happens there could be seen in a similar light...but to me, I see them in the same role as the Italian partisans or the French Resistance: the government they fight is without question illegitimate and in need of overthrowing. And I see what you're doing here, and that the government of Tiaite is also corrupt in its own way. I think maybe it was the use of that expression that kinda rubbed me the wrong way a bit.
But since you took the time to write such a long (and interesting) explanation, I do intend to stick around and see what happens.
Glad to see Star again - she's a fascinating anti-hero, though I can't say I like her, exactly.
Wonder how much she's getting for selling her soul? Will she decide the price is too high?
Wonder how much she's getting for selling her soul? Will she decide the price is too high?
Akinola had been invited to meet Captain Michael Owens immediately after he had learned that T’Ser and one of Eagle’s crewmembers had been abducted by a criminal faction on Tiaita.
He had been determined to give the Starfleet captain a piece of his mind in regards to the way he had handled this situation and more importantly the way he had apparently decided to keep him and Bluefin at an arm’s length while the crisis was unfolding on the surface.
The situation had been entirely unacceptable and he was going to make sure to let Owens and his crew know. They would not be able to waltz around as if they owned this part of space. Not while the life of one of his crewmembers hung in the balance.
When Joseph Akinola materialized on the transporter platform of the Nebula-class starship he found a very young lieutenant–she couldn’t have been more than twenty-five, he ventured–waiting for him, wearing an impossibly inviting smile on her stunningly attractive face.
“Welcome aboard, Eagle, sir.”
And just like that all that anger and bitterness he had felt associated with his trip melted away. He couldn’t quite explain it but the smile on her face simply made things seem a whole lot less desperate than they had seemed previously. For just a few moments Akinola felt an incredible rare sensation. Speechlessness.
The lieutenant appeared perfectly patient, almost as if she had expected this kind of behavior. “I’m Lieutenant DeMara Deen, it is a pleasure to meet you, sir. I only wish it could have been under better circumstances.”
Akinola’s captivation didn’t last long. He had met too many Deltans and more than his share of Orion women in his time to be easily enthralled by a siren. But he had to admit that she was like no other woman he had ever met. This weren’t mere pheromones doing their work. This was something else entirely. Owens had to be an ace on diplomatic missions with a woman like that around, he thought. With a bit of an effort Deen could probably have tamed an entire Klingon army.
“Permission to come aboard, Lieutenant,” he said, trying to keep this as professional as possible.
She nodded without hesitation. “Of course, sir.”
He stepped off the platform.
Deen had apparently noticed that the veteran captain was not particularly interested in wasting time. “If you would like to follow me, sir, Captain Owens is expecting you in his ready room.”
“Lead the way, Lieutenant.”
They left the transporter room and soon after entered a turbo-lift and Deen asked for the bridge.
“Lieutenant, if you don’t mind my asking,” Akinola said, “I do not believe I’m familiar with your species.” She looked human enough but there was no doubt that she wasn’t. Her purple eyes were too radiant and her golden hair too shiny to be human. She almost glowed.
“Tenerian, sir,” she said with that smile again. “I’m the only one serving in Starfleet. The first out of many someday. At least I’d like to think so.”
Akinola had heard of Tenerians in the same way people had heard of elves or dragons. He allowed himself a small smile himself. “If you are any indication on the rest of your people, I’d say Starfleet would be enriched immensely by more of your kind.”
“That is kind of you to say, sir.”
The Nigerian captain forced himself to put on a more stern visage again. He had come here to talk tough and not to complement the crew, he reminded himself.
Moments later they both entered the captain’s ready room. Akinola felt momentarily disappointed when she excused herself. But then quickly realized that not having such a calming influence in the room would make it much easier to maintain his disposition.
Michael Owens had stood from his chair, walked around his desk and extended a hand in greeting. “Captain Akinola, it’s good to finally meet you,” he said.
Akinola took the hand and shook it firmly but briefly. He measured up Owens and found nothing extraordinary about the man himself. His smile seemed honest enough but his blue eyes appeared guarded, like somebody who knew that he was facing a man of equal stature and intelligence.
“Captain Owens,” said Akinola in a clipped tone which he was surprised to find, didn’t throw Owens off in the slightest.
“Please take a seat,” he said. “Would you mind for something to drink? I’ve taken the liberty to remove a bottle of scotch whiskey from the ship’s stores,” he said and pointed at the bottle of liquor on his desk. Two empty glasses next to it.
Akinola sat and looked the bottle over. Glenfiddich. Fifty Year Old, Single Malt Whisky. Pretty damn good stuff and not replicated. He knew it was a cheap trick to offer a disgruntled guest a good drink up front in hopes to mellow his mood. He didn’t know if Owens had learned of his staunch abhorrence to replicators or if it was a coincidence he was being offered a genuinely alcoholic beverage, something Starfleet was not exactly known for.
In the end he couldn’t quite resist the temptation. It had been too long that he had sampled a good scotch. “I’ll have drop, thank you.”
Owens nodded, opened the bottle and poured each of them a single. “We have a common acquaintance by the way,” he said, put the bottle down and sat in his chair.
“Is that so?”
“Yes,” Owens said. “I believe your quite close to the Donners.”
“Cicero and Sheila?”
Owens nodded.
Akinola couldn’t help but smile. Cicero Donners and his wife were very close friends of his. The two of them had served in the Border Service for many years before they had made the foolish decision–in his view at least–to settle down on Earth and live a quite life. Like him, Cicero had been a mustang officer, had climbed that ladder from enlisted crewman all the way up to captain. They had served together, fought together and bled together. It was a powerful bond almost impossible to break. He had a lot of good memories of Cicero and Sheila.
“I went to the Academy with their daughter Amaya.”
He remember Amaya as well. In fact she had been the reason Cicero had married Sheila at a very young age. It had been one of those foolish things that people still did but which later on had turned into a blessing. Amaya had been so unexpected that Cicero had turned to the least likely person to become her godfather. Least likely because in those days Joseph Akinola had been as young and foolish as his friend had been. Well, maybe not quite as foolish, he thought with a smile.
“Maya,” he said quietly as if to bring back the memories. They still wrote each other from time to time but it had been less frequent in recent years and since the war had begun. In his mind she would always remain that that little girl, impossibly out of place on a border cutter which for many years had doubled as her playground. “I haven’t seen her in quite some time. She has always been such a bright kid.”
Owens smiled good-naturedly. “She’s hardly a kid anymore. She made captain about two years ago and got her own ship. The Agamemnon.”
“Captain, really? Of a Starfleet ship?”
Owens nodded.
Akinola took a sip from his glass, savoring the taste. “Impressive,” he said and then smiled viciously. “Cicero must have bounced off the walls when he found out she didn’t take a border cutter.”
Owens chuckled. “I would think there was some discussion on that subject.”
“Well, I’ll have to make sure to get in touch with old friends again. It has been far too long,” he said and put down his glass. His eyes wandered for a moment. Owens’ ready room wasn’t quite like that of most other captains he had seen. There were no starship models here. Instead he found a number of old, leather-bound books, a large watercolor painting of an American country house and most prominent of all, a Botticelli sitting by itself on an easel. Akinola assumed it was a copy but even though it felt somewhat pretentious for Owens to have it in his ready room.
The captain of the Eagle had done a pretty damn good job at distracting him from the reason he had come in the first place, bringing up common friends and offering him a good drink which he only now realized Owens himself hadn’t even touched. Akinola was not willing to stall any longer.
Michael Owens registered the mood change immediately and took preemptive measures. “Captain, I realize you haven’t come here to discuss old friends. First of all let me apologize to you for the way we have treated you recently. We should have met sooner and we should have involved you immediately once we learned of the crisis developing on the surface. But to be honest everything happened so quickly there was little time to even think of cooperation. My people were ambushed so suddenly that, had we not taken immediate action I fear the consequences would have been far worse than they already are.”
The man was a born diplomat, Akinola acknowledged. But he was not. And he was not going to be put at ease by pretty words. “Arguably we’ve both made mistakes. What I want to know is what are we going to do to get our people back? I have rescue teams standing by as we speak and I don’t want to waste any more time.”
“I appreciate your concerns, Captain, trust me I’m right there with you. But we have to be extremely mindful of our next steps. No matter the actions we have already taken, we are not here to put soldiers onto the ground.”
“Then what do you suggest we do?”
Owens leaned back in his chair and for the first time his carefully maintained expression seemed to slip slightly. Perhaps because he didn’t have an answer himself. Or maybe because he didn’t like the one he had. “Admiral Scharzkopf is having an emergency meeting with the planetary government as we speak and then will return to Eagle to brief us. I’m sure we will come to some sort of decision quickly.”
“I don’t like it. And I’m not willing to put the life of one of my crewmembers into the hands of Admiral Schwarzkopf or his local allies. Let me be perfectly clear. I trust Schwarzkopf just about as much as I’d trust a Romulan Tal’Shiar agent.”
Michael Owens’ eyes hardened. “I understand that you have a previous history with the admiral but surely you can appreciate the need for everyone to keep a cool head in this situation and not to proceed with any rushed actions until we know exactly with who and what we are dealing with here.”
Akinola uttered a short, humorless laugh. “Rushed actions are what Schwarzkopf does best and I’m willing to bet latinum it’s what got us into this whole mess into the first place.”
“Still,” Owens countered, “this mission is important to Starfleet and the Federation. And as such we need to respect that there might be greater implications here than–and forgive me for saying this– two Starfleet crewmembers. Don’t get me wrong I will not give up on them but I will not commit us on a course that will doom this mission.”
“Captain, with all due respect, you just fired your phasers onto that planet. If this mission is not doomed already we’re pretty damned close to it.”
Owens leaned forward slightly. “I need to believe that it still has a chance. Now, I need you to be patient just a little while longer,” said Owens and didn’t miss the skepticism burning in the Nigerian man’s eyes. “At least until after the meeting with the Admiral.”
“Captain, I have not been invited to any such meeting.”
That left Michael Owens momentarily at a loss for words.
Akinola on the other hand was hardly surprised. Maybe Owens wasn’t as much of a yes-man as he had feared but it was clear to him that Schwarzkopf was still calling the shots. And as such he had not deemed it necessary to involve him in any dealings. Not even now that one of his crewmembers had been kidnapped.
“An oversight, I’m sure,” Owens said. “We’ll be holding the meeting at 1600 hours in the observation lounge right here on Eagle. I think it would only be appropriate if you joined us.”
“I don’t much see the point, Captain but I’ll be there. And I will put off any decisions until then.”
Owens nodded. “That’s all I ask.”
And then something on Owens’ computer screen captured his attention. Akinola didn’t know what he was looking at but it was quickly becoming obvious from the growing frown on Owens’ face that he didn’t like it. He didn’t like it at all.
Eagle’s captain had become so involved in what he had been reading that he had appeared to have all but forgotten his guest sitting across from him.
“Bad news?” asked Akinola, concerned that Owens was reading a report regarding the missing crewmembers and keeping it to himself.
Owens looked at his counterpart as if seeing him there for the first time. “I beg your pardon?”
Akinola gestured towards the screen, the content hidden from his view.
“Oh,” Owens said, realizing that he had kept the Bluefin’s captain. “I’m sorry it’s nothing concerning our kidnapped people but it will require my immediate attention, I’m afraid.”
Akinola got the hint and stood. “I understand.”
Owens stood as well. “It was a pleasure meeting you and I hope that together we will be able to resolve this situation as quickly as possible.”
“From your lips, Captain.”
They both shook hands again.
“I will see you at the meeting.”
Akinola nodded and then was quickly whisked away by Lieutenant Deen. It had been impossible not to notice Owens’ much more concerned demeanor. Whatever he had just learned had clearly disturbed him significantly and Akinola couldn’t help but wonder what could have fazed the man to such a degree. Especially after he had appeared so focused throughout their conversation.
Except for that last incident Akinola had come away from his initial meeting with Eagle’s captain with a decent impression. Owens was a smart man, there was no doubt about that. He had not given Akinola any chance or reason to further perpetuate the notion that he was an incompetent as he had feared after he had allowed T’Ser to be kidnapped on his watch. But his clear deference to Schwarzkopf had him worried. Owens had appeared more concerned about Schwarzkopf’s failing mission than retrieving the kidnapped crewmembers. And that was something Akinola could not allow to happen.
On the way back to the transporter room, Lieutenant Deen made some casual conversation by displaying a seemingly honest curiosity for the Border Service. It was such a pleasant experience that Akinola had joked that she should consider joining Bluefin’s crew to get a feel for the service.
She had laughed softly at the suggestion and said that she’d love to give it some thought but something made him believe that she was merely humoring him and that she had heard countless similar offers in her short Starfleet career.
Akinola would have left Eagle with a rather agreeable disposition considering the circumstances had it not been for the last person he encountered before reaching the transporter room.
Deen had led the captain out of the turbo-lift and on their short walk to the transporter room he noticed a red-haired Trill coming along from the opposite direction. Akinola had never met her face to face but knew immediately who she was. She nodded to him respectfully as she passed by but he never afforded her more than a cold stare.
He wondered what possible dealings Captain Owens could have had with Tazla Star and the thought consumed him more than any other even after he had returned to the familiar surroundings of his own ship.
He had been determined to give the Starfleet captain a piece of his mind in regards to the way he had handled this situation and more importantly the way he had apparently decided to keep him and Bluefin at an arm’s length while the crisis was unfolding on the surface.
The situation had been entirely unacceptable and he was going to make sure to let Owens and his crew know. They would not be able to waltz around as if they owned this part of space. Not while the life of one of his crewmembers hung in the balance.
When Joseph Akinola materialized on the transporter platform of the Nebula-class starship he found a very young lieutenant–she couldn’t have been more than twenty-five, he ventured–waiting for him, wearing an impossibly inviting smile on her stunningly attractive face.
“Welcome aboard, Eagle, sir.”
And just like that all that anger and bitterness he had felt associated with his trip melted away. He couldn’t quite explain it but the smile on her face simply made things seem a whole lot less desperate than they had seemed previously. For just a few moments Akinola felt an incredible rare sensation. Speechlessness.
The lieutenant appeared perfectly patient, almost as if she had expected this kind of behavior. “I’m Lieutenant DeMara Deen, it is a pleasure to meet you, sir. I only wish it could have been under better circumstances.”
Akinola’s captivation didn’t last long. He had met too many Deltans and more than his share of Orion women in his time to be easily enthralled by a siren. But he had to admit that she was like no other woman he had ever met. This weren’t mere pheromones doing their work. This was something else entirely. Owens had to be an ace on diplomatic missions with a woman like that around, he thought. With a bit of an effort Deen could probably have tamed an entire Klingon army.
“Permission to come aboard, Lieutenant,” he said, trying to keep this as professional as possible.
She nodded without hesitation. “Of course, sir.”
He stepped off the platform.
Deen had apparently noticed that the veteran captain was not particularly interested in wasting time. “If you would like to follow me, sir, Captain Owens is expecting you in his ready room.”
“Lead the way, Lieutenant.”
They left the transporter room and soon after entered a turbo-lift and Deen asked for the bridge.
“Lieutenant, if you don’t mind my asking,” Akinola said, “I do not believe I’m familiar with your species.” She looked human enough but there was no doubt that she wasn’t. Her purple eyes were too radiant and her golden hair too shiny to be human. She almost glowed.
“Tenerian, sir,” she said with that smile again. “I’m the only one serving in Starfleet. The first out of many someday. At least I’d like to think so.”
Akinola had heard of Tenerians in the same way people had heard of elves or dragons. He allowed himself a small smile himself. “If you are any indication on the rest of your people, I’d say Starfleet would be enriched immensely by more of your kind.”
“That is kind of you to say, sir.”
The Nigerian captain forced himself to put on a more stern visage again. He had come here to talk tough and not to complement the crew, he reminded himself.
Moments later they both entered the captain’s ready room. Akinola felt momentarily disappointed when she excused herself. But then quickly realized that not having such a calming influence in the room would make it much easier to maintain his disposition.
Michael Owens had stood from his chair, walked around his desk and extended a hand in greeting. “Captain Akinola, it’s good to finally meet you,” he said.
Akinola took the hand and shook it firmly but briefly. He measured up Owens and found nothing extraordinary about the man himself. His smile seemed honest enough but his blue eyes appeared guarded, like somebody who knew that he was facing a man of equal stature and intelligence.
“Captain Owens,” said Akinola in a clipped tone which he was surprised to find, didn’t throw Owens off in the slightest.
“Please take a seat,” he said. “Would you mind for something to drink? I’ve taken the liberty to remove a bottle of scotch whiskey from the ship’s stores,” he said and pointed at the bottle of liquor on his desk. Two empty glasses next to it.
Akinola sat and looked the bottle over. Glenfiddich. Fifty Year Old, Single Malt Whisky. Pretty damn good stuff and not replicated. He knew it was a cheap trick to offer a disgruntled guest a good drink up front in hopes to mellow his mood. He didn’t know if Owens had learned of his staunch abhorrence to replicators or if it was a coincidence he was being offered a genuinely alcoholic beverage, something Starfleet was not exactly known for.
In the end he couldn’t quite resist the temptation. It had been too long that he had sampled a good scotch. “I’ll have drop, thank you.”
Owens nodded, opened the bottle and poured each of them a single. “We have a common acquaintance by the way,” he said, put the bottle down and sat in his chair.
“Is that so?”
“Yes,” Owens said. “I believe your quite close to the Donners.”
“Cicero and Sheila?”
Owens nodded.
Akinola couldn’t help but smile. Cicero Donners and his wife were very close friends of his. The two of them had served in the Border Service for many years before they had made the foolish decision–in his view at least–to settle down on Earth and live a quite life. Like him, Cicero had been a mustang officer, had climbed that ladder from enlisted crewman all the way up to captain. They had served together, fought together and bled together. It was a powerful bond almost impossible to break. He had a lot of good memories of Cicero and Sheila.
“I went to the Academy with their daughter Amaya.”
He remember Amaya as well. In fact she had been the reason Cicero had married Sheila at a very young age. It had been one of those foolish things that people still did but which later on had turned into a blessing. Amaya had been so unexpected that Cicero had turned to the least likely person to become her godfather. Least likely because in those days Joseph Akinola had been as young and foolish as his friend had been. Well, maybe not quite as foolish, he thought with a smile.
“Maya,” he said quietly as if to bring back the memories. They still wrote each other from time to time but it had been less frequent in recent years and since the war had begun. In his mind she would always remain that that little girl, impossibly out of place on a border cutter which for many years had doubled as her playground. “I haven’t seen her in quite some time. She has always been such a bright kid.”
Owens smiled good-naturedly. “She’s hardly a kid anymore. She made captain about two years ago and got her own ship. The Agamemnon.”
“Captain, really? Of a Starfleet ship?”
Owens nodded.
Akinola took a sip from his glass, savoring the taste. “Impressive,” he said and then smiled viciously. “Cicero must have bounced off the walls when he found out she didn’t take a border cutter.”
Owens chuckled. “I would think there was some discussion on that subject.”
“Well, I’ll have to make sure to get in touch with old friends again. It has been far too long,” he said and put down his glass. His eyes wandered for a moment. Owens’ ready room wasn’t quite like that of most other captains he had seen. There were no starship models here. Instead he found a number of old, leather-bound books, a large watercolor painting of an American country house and most prominent of all, a Botticelli sitting by itself on an easel. Akinola assumed it was a copy but even though it felt somewhat pretentious for Owens to have it in his ready room.
The captain of the Eagle had done a pretty damn good job at distracting him from the reason he had come in the first place, bringing up common friends and offering him a good drink which he only now realized Owens himself hadn’t even touched. Akinola was not willing to stall any longer.
Michael Owens registered the mood change immediately and took preemptive measures. “Captain, I realize you haven’t come here to discuss old friends. First of all let me apologize to you for the way we have treated you recently. We should have met sooner and we should have involved you immediately once we learned of the crisis developing on the surface. But to be honest everything happened so quickly there was little time to even think of cooperation. My people were ambushed so suddenly that, had we not taken immediate action I fear the consequences would have been far worse than they already are.”
The man was a born diplomat, Akinola acknowledged. But he was not. And he was not going to be put at ease by pretty words. “Arguably we’ve both made mistakes. What I want to know is what are we going to do to get our people back? I have rescue teams standing by as we speak and I don’t want to waste any more time.”
“I appreciate your concerns, Captain, trust me I’m right there with you. But we have to be extremely mindful of our next steps. No matter the actions we have already taken, we are not here to put soldiers onto the ground.”
“Then what do you suggest we do?”
Owens leaned back in his chair and for the first time his carefully maintained expression seemed to slip slightly. Perhaps because he didn’t have an answer himself. Or maybe because he didn’t like the one he had. “Admiral Scharzkopf is having an emergency meeting with the planetary government as we speak and then will return to Eagle to brief us. I’m sure we will come to some sort of decision quickly.”
“I don’t like it. And I’m not willing to put the life of one of my crewmembers into the hands of Admiral Schwarzkopf or his local allies. Let me be perfectly clear. I trust Schwarzkopf just about as much as I’d trust a Romulan Tal’Shiar agent.”
Michael Owens’ eyes hardened. “I understand that you have a previous history with the admiral but surely you can appreciate the need for everyone to keep a cool head in this situation and not to proceed with any rushed actions until we know exactly with who and what we are dealing with here.”
Akinola uttered a short, humorless laugh. “Rushed actions are what Schwarzkopf does best and I’m willing to bet latinum it’s what got us into this whole mess into the first place.”
“Still,” Owens countered, “this mission is important to Starfleet and the Federation. And as such we need to respect that there might be greater implications here than–and forgive me for saying this– two Starfleet crewmembers. Don’t get me wrong I will not give up on them but I will not commit us on a course that will doom this mission.”
“Captain, with all due respect, you just fired your phasers onto that planet. If this mission is not doomed already we’re pretty damned close to it.”
Owens leaned forward slightly. “I need to believe that it still has a chance. Now, I need you to be patient just a little while longer,” said Owens and didn’t miss the skepticism burning in the Nigerian man’s eyes. “At least until after the meeting with the Admiral.”
“Captain, I have not been invited to any such meeting.”
That left Michael Owens momentarily at a loss for words.
Akinola on the other hand was hardly surprised. Maybe Owens wasn’t as much of a yes-man as he had feared but it was clear to him that Schwarzkopf was still calling the shots. And as such he had not deemed it necessary to involve him in any dealings. Not even now that one of his crewmembers had been kidnapped.
“An oversight, I’m sure,” Owens said. “We’ll be holding the meeting at 1600 hours in the observation lounge right here on Eagle. I think it would only be appropriate if you joined us.”
“I don’t much see the point, Captain but I’ll be there. And I will put off any decisions until then.”
Owens nodded. “That’s all I ask.”
And then something on Owens’ computer screen captured his attention. Akinola didn’t know what he was looking at but it was quickly becoming obvious from the growing frown on Owens’ face that he didn’t like it. He didn’t like it at all.
Eagle’s captain had become so involved in what he had been reading that he had appeared to have all but forgotten his guest sitting across from him.
“Bad news?” asked Akinola, concerned that Owens was reading a report regarding the missing crewmembers and keeping it to himself.
Owens looked at his counterpart as if seeing him there for the first time. “I beg your pardon?”
Akinola gestured towards the screen, the content hidden from his view.
“Oh,” Owens said, realizing that he had kept the Bluefin’s captain. “I’m sorry it’s nothing concerning our kidnapped people but it will require my immediate attention, I’m afraid.”
Akinola got the hint and stood. “I understand.”
Owens stood as well. “It was a pleasure meeting you and I hope that together we will be able to resolve this situation as quickly as possible.”
“From your lips, Captain.”
They both shook hands again.
“I will see you at the meeting.”
Akinola nodded and then was quickly whisked away by Lieutenant Deen. It had been impossible not to notice Owens’ much more concerned demeanor. Whatever he had just learned had clearly disturbed him significantly and Akinola couldn’t help but wonder what could have fazed the man to such a degree. Especially after he had appeared so focused throughout their conversation.
Except for that last incident Akinola had come away from his initial meeting with Eagle’s captain with a decent impression. Owens was a smart man, there was no doubt about that. He had not given Akinola any chance or reason to further perpetuate the notion that he was an incompetent as he had feared after he had allowed T’Ser to be kidnapped on his watch. But his clear deference to Schwarzkopf had him worried. Owens had appeared more concerned about Schwarzkopf’s failing mission than retrieving the kidnapped crewmembers. And that was something Akinola could not allow to happen.
On the way back to the transporter room, Lieutenant Deen made some casual conversation by displaying a seemingly honest curiosity for the Border Service. It was such a pleasant experience that Akinola had joked that she should consider joining Bluefin’s crew to get a feel for the service.
She had laughed softly at the suggestion and said that she’d love to give it some thought but something made him believe that she was merely humoring him and that she had heard countless similar offers in her short Starfleet career.
Akinola would have left Eagle with a rather agreeable disposition considering the circumstances had it not been for the last person he encountered before reaching the transporter room.
Deen had led the captain out of the turbo-lift and on their short walk to the transporter room he noticed a red-haired Trill coming along from the opposite direction. Akinola had never met her face to face but knew immediately who she was. She nodded to him respectfully as she passed by but he never afforded her more than a cold stare.
He wondered what possible dealings Captain Owens could have had with Tazla Star and the thought consumed him more than any other even after he had returned to the familiar surroundings of his own ship.
* * *
Dude, SERIOUSLY??? REALLY??? Joseph Akinola beamed over to Eagle ready to chew the crew a new a-hole and two seconds in the presence of [angelic music]DEMARA DEEN[/angelic music] and he's all mellow-yellow?? And she could tame an entire Klingon army?? And now her people are as mythical as elves and dragons?? ARE YOU KIDDING ME?! Are we really back to this nonsense?!
CeJay, do you have any clue how big a Mary Sue you make out of this character practically every time you bring her out? At all? I'll give you a hint: if there were a planet somewhere out there with nothing but a billion Mary Sues on it, DeMara Deen would be their queen! Jeezus H!
PS: BTW, what the hell does "perfectly patient" mean? I have trouble enough with plain old patience. what kind of freakin' zen state do I have to reach to look "perfectly patient" like [more angelic music]DEMARA DEEN[/more angelic music]??
I'm afraid to say I have never moved on my stance and the portrayal of Deen in the first place. I'm sticking to the character and to the way she was intended.
Is she Mary Sue-ish? Maybe a bit. I'm not an expert on that. Rest assured however that she will never single headedly save the ship or outsmart the rest of the crew in a Wesley Crusher like moment.
I actually love the way she is being used here. Owens knows exactly what kind of an effect she can have on somebody who has never met her. He knows that Akinola is upset. Using Deen was a tactical move. Akinola is no fool of course, even Deltans and Orions don't work on him. So it took more than Deen's aura to make him more amendable. Akinola actually sees right through Owens’ attempts of placating him.
The 'charm a Klingon army' reference was clearly not to be meant literally and 'elves and dragons' was a reference to the fact that most people have heard stories about Tenarians but for a long time didn't know about their existence.
Look at the back-story (http://stexpanded.wikia.com/wiki/Tenarian), Tenaria was discovered relatively late by Starfleet but myths and rumors had been in circulation for decades. And even after Starfleet stumbled across their world they remained pretty secluded thanks to their home worlds rather isolated location deep in the Beta Quadrant.
I'm well aware of your displeasure regarding this character but I like her and she'll remain exactly the way she is. I guess you either have to ignore her or give up on the series
. (or continue to voice your objections. I don't mind those.)
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You do a nice job of writing Akinola. You've captured his personality and thought processes very well in this segment. Using Demara to help "douse the flames" was a prudent move on Owens part. Even though Akinola saw through it, Demara's presence had the desired, calming effect.
I guess we all have characters that are "annoying" or less than favorites for some readers. I've received similar comments about Grelden Pralax in my Endurance series. Personally, I always wished that someone would have shoved Neelix out an airlock in Voyager.
I guess we all have characters that are "annoying" or less than favorites for some readers. I've received similar comments about Grelden Pralax in my Endurance series. Personally, I always wished that someone would have shoved Neelix out an airlock in Voyager.
Trying to catch up on all my reading and writing after a hectic few weeks! I also liked the sequence between Akinola and Owens, and yes, Owens did do a bit of "mollifying" by using Deen--but that old fox Akinola knew what was going on anyway.
Now, we'll have to see what happens next.
Now, we'll have to see what happens next.
“Commander Tazla Star, reporting for duty, sir.”
Michael Owens looked the Trill woman standing at attention in front of his desk over carefully. She posses almost fire-red hair which had been pulled back tightly into a bun, powerful green eyes and a splendidly maintained physique. She was an attractive woman, of that there was no doubt and she carried herself like somebody who knew it too. Like somebody who was not afraid to use this to their advantage if necessary. Owens had feeling that she was not above doing such a thing.
He of course would not pay any attention to that. He would not be swayed by her in any way. On the contrary, he would have used any kind of improper behavior, no matter how subtly implied as a perfectly legitimate reason to have her relieved of duty immediately. He did hope however that she would try, give him any excuse whatsoever to send her packing before she had even fully arrived.
He knew of Tazla Star. Or at least he knew what most people knew of her. The former starship captain had disobeyed orders, she had gotten people killed, court martialed, demoted and thrown into prison where as far as he was concerned she still belonged. He didn’t know the details of the acts which had led to this disgraceful path but the punishment spoke volumes about the crimes. Not many Starfleet officers and very few captains had ever fallen in such deep disgrace.
And now she had been assigned as his temporary first officer. The assignment had come out of nowhere and had caught him completely by surprise. And yet here she was, just minutes after he had received word himself.
Star remained at attention. If she had expected to be asked to relax or even sit she was in for her own surprise. Owens had no qualms about leaving her in this uncomfortable position. He had never much cared for strict discipline or for many of the more archaic military traditions but in this instance he was a firm believer.
When Owens hadn’t said a word for nearly two minutes, Star shot him a puzzled look. “Sir?”
He wanted to reprimand her for speaking out of line but ultimately decided against it. “I’ve just received your assignment, Commander. You can imagine my surprise at the suddenness of this order.”
“Starfleet has a tendency to work quickly when it has to, sir.”
“That’s a load of crap and you know it.”
Star appeared momentarily fazed by the captain’s abrupt tone but didn’t comment any further.
“Starfleet is a slow and unwieldy bureaucratic machine,” he said. “And they sure as hell don’t make sudden reassignments in the middle of an ongoing mission and in-between two separate branches no less,” he added, eying her Border Service combadge. “Not while there is a war going on. Not while we’re on a mission beyond the edge of Federation space.”
The Trill didn’t make eye contact but kept her glance fixed at a point somewhere above Owens’ head. “I’m not sure what you are implying, sir.”
“Really? I have a hard time believing a smart woman like yourself would not be able to follow my drift. Maybe I misjudged you. Maybe the several lifetimes of experiences accumulated in your symbiont are not having any effect on you.”
But Star didn’t raise to the bait, disappointing Owens somewhat. She remained ramrod straight and perfectly calm. At least as far as outward appearances were concerned.
Owens gave up for the awaited verbal slip up and instead looked over Star’s assignment brief on his screen for what felt like the one hundredth time. Besides of the implausibility of the orders everything else looked right. The text was brief but clear, the tone was correct and it had all been signed off by the right people, showing the proper authorization codes. Owens had no grounds whatsoever to disregard the order. “According to this,” he said, “you will take on your duties of acting first officer right away.” He gave her a cold stare. “But let me be perfectly clear, Commander. You have not been requested by me nor do I want you here as my first officer. This is a temporary assignment which has been decided by Command with absolutely no prior consultation with myself. I seem to have little choice in the matter. But understand this. If you give me any reason–any reason at all–to believe that you may be a danger to my ship or her crew I have you relieved of duty multiple times faster than the time it took to get you this assignment. Do I make myself sufficiently clear?”
“As crystal, sir.”
“Why do you think you are here, Commander. What do you think you can do on my ship?”
The irritated look in her eyes showed that this had been a question she had expected. “Sir?”
“I want to hear from you why you think you would make a good first officer on this ship.”
“Sir, I just follow my orders and –“
Owens cut her off. “I’ve read the orders, Commander. Trust me, I’ve read them very closely. But what these orders don’t say is why you are here.”
“You do not currently have a first officer, sir,” she said in a very careful tone of voice.
“So I exchange an acting first officer with another? That doesn’t make any sense. Let’s drop the pretenses, shall we?”
“Do you wish me to speak freely, sir?”
He really didn’t. But it was clear that if he wanted to get anything out of Star he had to extend a certain degree of latitude. “Yes.”
Star relaxed slightly but kept her rigid pose, fully aware that Owens had not given her permission to stand at ease. “The mission to Tiaita is considered a vital strategy by Starfleet Command to improve our overall chances of winning the war. Your first significant away mission under the command of your former acting first officer resulted in severe collateral damage and the abduction of two Starfleet officers. I would therefore say that this mission is in acute danger of failing unless we are able to salvage this situation quickly.”
Owens leaned back in his chair with a small, entirely humorless smile on his face. “And you honestly think that you can do better? You think you can ‘salvage this situation’?”
“I’ll try my best, sir.”
The captain studied her closely, her eyes, her facial features and her body language to find any clues that would have given her away. To make him doubt what she was telling him. But as hard as he looked he couldn’t find any such evidence. She didn’t even seem to flinch under his meticulous gaze.
“But you don’t really want to be here, do you Commander?” he said and smiled again when he noticed the flicker in her eyes. He had managed to crack that impenetrable mask for just a second or so, but it had been enough. “Let’s both be honest. You already know my feelings about your assignment. You might as well come clean yourself. And for heaven’s sake, stand at ease already before you get a cramp.”
She looked noticeably relieved when she could finally put her feet apart and place her hands behind her back. “Sir, I’ll be carrying out my duties to the best of my abilities as long as I am your first officer.”
“Anything less would be unacceptable,” he said in a dismissive tone. “But that’s not what I asked. I want to know if you want to be here.”
“No, sir.”
Owens steepled his fingers in front of him, satisfied that he had pried the truth out of her. It was something he hoped he could use against her at some point. “Please, elaborate.”
She clearly didn’t want to but Owens was not going to give her a choice. “You know my history, sir,” she said.
“I know what most people know. And I’ve heard rumors.”
She nodded. “I won’t be able to go into details, sir. But I can tell you that I have long since made peace with the fact that I do not have a future in Starfleet. After the war started they came to me and gave me the choice of staying on Jaros II and smolder in my cell until old age or to serve and accept a dismissal after the end of the stop-loss order. I took the deal, sir. And I intend to stick to it. I’ll do whatever is asked of me and when Starfleet sees it fit to let me go, I will. That’s all there is to it.”
Owens felt the slightest ting of compassion for Star but he forced himself to brush it aside almost immediately. She had never served her time for what she had done. Instead her punishment had become to do what was expected of any Starfleet officer. Not only was this a morally questionable decision, he thought, it was downright dangerous.
“We’ll have a meeting in two hours,” he said, now willing to quickly move on and get her out of his ready room. “You’ll be introduced to the senior officers then. Make sure you catch up with crew profiles and ship specs as much as you can until then.”
She nodded sharply.
“Dismissed.”
Star turned on her heels and left the ready room.
Michael Owens looked the Trill woman standing at attention in front of his desk over carefully. She posses almost fire-red hair which had been pulled back tightly into a bun, powerful green eyes and a splendidly maintained physique. She was an attractive woman, of that there was no doubt and she carried herself like somebody who knew it too. Like somebody who was not afraid to use this to their advantage if necessary. Owens had feeling that she was not above doing such a thing.
He of course would not pay any attention to that. He would not be swayed by her in any way. On the contrary, he would have used any kind of improper behavior, no matter how subtly implied as a perfectly legitimate reason to have her relieved of duty immediately. He did hope however that she would try, give him any excuse whatsoever to send her packing before she had even fully arrived.
He knew of Tazla Star. Or at least he knew what most people knew of her. The former starship captain had disobeyed orders, she had gotten people killed, court martialed, demoted and thrown into prison where as far as he was concerned she still belonged. He didn’t know the details of the acts which had led to this disgraceful path but the punishment spoke volumes about the crimes. Not many Starfleet officers and very few captains had ever fallen in such deep disgrace.
And now she had been assigned as his temporary first officer. The assignment had come out of nowhere and had caught him completely by surprise. And yet here she was, just minutes after he had received word himself.
Star remained at attention. If she had expected to be asked to relax or even sit she was in for her own surprise. Owens had no qualms about leaving her in this uncomfortable position. He had never much cared for strict discipline or for many of the more archaic military traditions but in this instance he was a firm believer.
When Owens hadn’t said a word for nearly two minutes, Star shot him a puzzled look. “Sir?”
He wanted to reprimand her for speaking out of line but ultimately decided against it. “I’ve just received your assignment, Commander. You can imagine my surprise at the suddenness of this order.”
“Starfleet has a tendency to work quickly when it has to, sir.”
“That’s a load of crap and you know it.”
Star appeared momentarily fazed by the captain’s abrupt tone but didn’t comment any further.
“Starfleet is a slow and unwieldy bureaucratic machine,” he said. “And they sure as hell don’t make sudden reassignments in the middle of an ongoing mission and in-between two separate branches no less,” he added, eying her Border Service combadge. “Not while there is a war going on. Not while we’re on a mission beyond the edge of Federation space.”
The Trill didn’t make eye contact but kept her glance fixed at a point somewhere above Owens’ head. “I’m not sure what you are implying, sir.”
“Really? I have a hard time believing a smart woman like yourself would not be able to follow my drift. Maybe I misjudged you. Maybe the several lifetimes of experiences accumulated in your symbiont are not having any effect on you.”
But Star didn’t raise to the bait, disappointing Owens somewhat. She remained ramrod straight and perfectly calm. At least as far as outward appearances were concerned.
Owens gave up for the awaited verbal slip up and instead looked over Star’s assignment brief on his screen for what felt like the one hundredth time. Besides of the implausibility of the orders everything else looked right. The text was brief but clear, the tone was correct and it had all been signed off by the right people, showing the proper authorization codes. Owens had no grounds whatsoever to disregard the order. “According to this,” he said, “you will take on your duties of acting first officer right away.” He gave her a cold stare. “But let me be perfectly clear, Commander. You have not been requested by me nor do I want you here as my first officer. This is a temporary assignment which has been decided by Command with absolutely no prior consultation with myself. I seem to have little choice in the matter. But understand this. If you give me any reason–any reason at all–to believe that you may be a danger to my ship or her crew I have you relieved of duty multiple times faster than the time it took to get you this assignment. Do I make myself sufficiently clear?”
“As crystal, sir.”
“Why do you think you are here, Commander. What do you think you can do on my ship?”
The irritated look in her eyes showed that this had been a question she had expected. “Sir?”
“I want to hear from you why you think you would make a good first officer on this ship.”
“Sir, I just follow my orders and –“
Owens cut her off. “I’ve read the orders, Commander. Trust me, I’ve read them very closely. But what these orders don’t say is why you are here.”
“You do not currently have a first officer, sir,” she said in a very careful tone of voice.
“So I exchange an acting first officer with another? That doesn’t make any sense. Let’s drop the pretenses, shall we?”
“Do you wish me to speak freely, sir?”
He really didn’t. But it was clear that if he wanted to get anything out of Star he had to extend a certain degree of latitude. “Yes.”
Star relaxed slightly but kept her rigid pose, fully aware that Owens had not given her permission to stand at ease. “The mission to Tiaita is considered a vital strategy by Starfleet Command to improve our overall chances of winning the war. Your first significant away mission under the command of your former acting first officer resulted in severe collateral damage and the abduction of two Starfleet officers. I would therefore say that this mission is in acute danger of failing unless we are able to salvage this situation quickly.”
Owens leaned back in his chair with a small, entirely humorless smile on his face. “And you honestly think that you can do better? You think you can ‘salvage this situation’?”
“I’ll try my best, sir.”
The captain studied her closely, her eyes, her facial features and her body language to find any clues that would have given her away. To make him doubt what she was telling him. But as hard as he looked he couldn’t find any such evidence. She didn’t even seem to flinch under his meticulous gaze.
“But you don’t really want to be here, do you Commander?” he said and smiled again when he noticed the flicker in her eyes. He had managed to crack that impenetrable mask for just a second or so, but it had been enough. “Let’s both be honest. You already know my feelings about your assignment. You might as well come clean yourself. And for heaven’s sake, stand at ease already before you get a cramp.”
She looked noticeably relieved when she could finally put her feet apart and place her hands behind her back. “Sir, I’ll be carrying out my duties to the best of my abilities as long as I am your first officer.”
“Anything less would be unacceptable,” he said in a dismissive tone. “But that’s not what I asked. I want to know if you want to be here.”
“No, sir.”
Owens steepled his fingers in front of him, satisfied that he had pried the truth out of her. It was something he hoped he could use against her at some point. “Please, elaborate.”
She clearly didn’t want to but Owens was not going to give her a choice. “You know my history, sir,” she said.
“I know what most people know. And I’ve heard rumors.”
She nodded. “I won’t be able to go into details, sir. But I can tell you that I have long since made peace with the fact that I do not have a future in Starfleet. After the war started they came to me and gave me the choice of staying on Jaros II and smolder in my cell until old age or to serve and accept a dismissal after the end of the stop-loss order. I took the deal, sir. And I intend to stick to it. I’ll do whatever is asked of me and when Starfleet sees it fit to let me go, I will. That’s all there is to it.”
Owens felt the slightest ting of compassion for Star but he forced himself to brush it aside almost immediately. She had never served her time for what she had done. Instead her punishment had become to do what was expected of any Starfleet officer. Not only was this a morally questionable decision, he thought, it was downright dangerous.
“We’ll have a meeting in two hours,” he said, now willing to quickly move on and get her out of his ready room. “You’ll be introduced to the senior officers then. Make sure you catch up with crew profiles and ship specs as much as you can until then.”
She nodded sharply.
“Dismissed.”
Star turned on her heels and left the ready room.
* * *
Well, that went well. 
I'm glad Owens is smart enough to see through Star. At the moment he's stuck with her, but he'll keep her on a short lead. Hopefully, that will be enough to keep her from causing problems.
Naaaah!
I'm glad Owens is smart enough to see through Star. At the moment he's stuck with her, but he'll keep her on a short lead. Hopefully, that will be enough to keep her from causing problems.
Naaaah!
I had stopped reading your story at one point because of internet problems and just busy generally but also because you had remarked to me that there similarities between it and my own story. As you said only natural that at times it can seem that way. Anyway to be safe I didn't read anymore of yours! But now that I have concluded my story I'm back to catching up on this.
Oh folly and mistake it was to stop reading yours! Starting to catch up but still way behind but it is so tightly written and intricate and complex and generally great. The mix of characters and subplots is mind boggling especially considering so many are not from your series. I love all the subplots and character interplays even if they don't serve the thrust of the story.
That is what I like about your writing is very faithful to the characters and the events of the story and you don't try to charge over details or conversations because they might be awkard to write or time consuming and not particularly exciting in the blowing up a ship way.
Excellent stuff it truly is.
Oh folly and mistake it was to stop reading yours! Starting to catch up but still way behind but it is so tightly written and intricate and complex and generally great. The mix of characters and subplots is mind boggling especially considering so many are not from your series. I love all the subplots and character interplays even if they don't serve the thrust of the story.
That is what I like about your writing is very faithful to the characters and the events of the story and you don't try to charge over details or conversations because they might be awkard to write or time consuming and not particularly exciting in the blowing up a ship way.
Excellent stuff it truly is.
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