I finally figured out who "Captain" is.

Posted on Thu Mar 6th, 2014 @ 10:18am by Commodore Samantha York & Lieutenant JG Anastasia Morrow

882 words; about a 4 minute read

Mission: Revenge
Location: Captain's Ready Room

Anastasia stopped, after getting showered, and properly dressed, at the Tactical Console, to ensure that it had properly synchronized, and restored the Calypso's crew.

She took a deep breath, grabbed a Chief Warrant Officer in a gold uniform, and sat him down at Tactical. "If you need to shoot something, just tell the computer what to shoot at."

She paused. "Tactical safety override, activate temporary voice interface for Tactical Console."

"Ma'am, I'm one of the engineers who maintains the EPS and waste flow-"

"I don't care. I'll be back shortly." She said, as she wandered over to the door to the Captain's ready room.

Readjusting her composure, she pondered who the "Captain" actually was. Her brain was feeling decidedly soggy. She pushed the chime, and used a blank screen nearby to quickly adjust her hair-bun.

Sam had given up on reading reports today. There had been an almost-constant parade of people needing to talk to her today. Instead, she was skimming through Archaeological journals to see if there was anything new. At least she could easily stop what she was doing to talk to someone. Like now. "Come in," she called when her door chime sounded.

Anastasia entered. She stopped. "Cap..." She stopped. "Commodore." She amended. "Nice to officially meet you. Anastasia Morrow, Security. Chief of, apparently."

"Sam," the other woman corrected. "I read your file. Nice to meet you, officially. I'm sorry that we lost so many good people from your department. That shouldn't happen very often -- if at all."

"Indeed." Anastasia said. She held up a PADD, somberly. "I doubt you want to read it. We've confirmed most of the dead. There's a few people who haven't checked in yet, so there might be a few survivors left."

Sam took the PADD from Anastasia and looked through the list. "We didn't lose that many on the planet. How did they die?" she asked, looking back up to Anastasia.

"It would seem that the transporter that abducted us had some minor problems reassembling other patterns, due to the fact that it wasn't using refined targeting sensors, and there was an unaccounted for source of undefined radiation present." Anastasia said, quietly.

"The transporters were working perfectly." Or they had been when Hans checked them over. One thing the Lieutenant said caught her attention. "Undefined radiation?"

"Our transporters were working perfectly. The planet's transporter network hasn't seen any kind of proper repair work for a very long time." Anastasia corrected. "A small plant emitting an odd type of radiation. Our transporter buffers recognized it, and dispersed the offending Flora. The planet's transporter network was apparently unfamiliar with it, and, in attempting to compensate, degraded many of the signals that came with that plant, into near nothingness."

"Ah," Sam said, finally understanding. "Is there any way our transporter buffers can compensate?" It wasn't likely, but she had to check every option, no matter how slight the chance of success.

"It's done." Anastasia said, shaking her head. "The planet doesn't have proper transporter buffers. I don't know how many people were in the beam. I know a good portion of them likely were lost. The signal was strengthened by removing parts of it."

Sam closed her eyes for a moment while she digested the information. She opened her eyes and continued, her voice authoritative. "I would like a full report from you and Lieutenant Munich." Starfleet would launch a full investigation of this and Sam needed all the information she could get.

"A full report." Anastasia said, nodding. "I'll get the chief to write one up... if I find him." She added, quietly.

"Very good," Sam said. "And if you don't, please write up one yourself. I need something to forward on to Starfleet Command and to keep in the archives." Sam gave her a critical once-over. "You also need to see the doctor to make sure you aren't suffering any ill-effects from your stay on the planet."

"I'm not suffering ill effects of my stay on the planet, ma'am. I'm a medical practitioner. Or, at least, I'm not suffering medical ill effects. What you're seeing is my body reacting to the psychological damage of the knowledge that Fred murdered somewhere between 60 and 80 people." Anastasia said, her attention focal point falling somewhere in front of her shoes.

"Fred? Oh, yes. The plant," Sam said, remembering the plant from the planet. "Then talk to the counselor. I can ill afford to lose another security officer." She paused for a moment then continued. "Anastasia, you are not responsible for the plant being irradiated, nor for the series of failures that led to those deaths."

Anastasia frowned. "Ma'am, with due respect, that does not make them any easier to live with." She said quietly. "And no thank you for the counselor. I maintain my own inner peace, and find people picking away at my thought process distracting, and difficult to think with."

"As long as it doesn't affect the performance of your job, I'll let it pass, then," Sam replied. "Is there anything else you need?"

"Not really, ma'am. Just replacement staff." Anastasia said, quietly.

"I'll put in a request," Sam said. "Get settled in and relax. You're dismissed."

OFF

Commodore Samantha York
Commanding Officer

Lieutenant JG Anastasia Warren
Chief Security/Tactical Officer

 

RSS Feed