CHAPTER 03: The Captain of My Soul [08: Acceptance]
Chapter 03: The Captain of My Soul [08: Acceptance]
[ USS Harbinger | Fighter Assault Bay | 1015 hrs ] Attn: All
By the time Phantom climbed out of his Valkyrie, having landed last of his squadron, his pilots had gone ahead to their own quarters to change into new uniforms, having worn the same since the attack on Theta Eridani IV besides whatever they had replicated on the Theurgy for the Festival the day before. Phantom reckoned they wanted a moment or two alone before the briefing of the mission, especially after what he had told them over the com about what lay in store for them. He was sure they were going to report to the Briefing Room on time, which left him some time with his trusted Valkyrie.
He crossed his arms and looked at her, thinking that those fancy-arsed pilots on the Theurgy likely thought his dear Mk II inferior to theirs, but she had taken him in and out of hell more times than he could count, and he knew her like the back of his hand. She was an extension of himself, and they might not like the truth of it, but any weapon was exactly as good as its wielder. He reckoned all of his pilots were just as deadly as the Lone Wolves, if not even more lethal since they were the hardened core of his Wing. They had been forty Tactical CONN Officers, and with the survival of the fittest, the seven pilots besides himself had been chiselled to perfected killing machines in their cockpits.
Yet as of yesterday, when he had forced himself on the Vulcan doctor, he wonder at which expense their excellence had been bought. Perhaps they had forsaken too much of themselves on the way there, even if they had not lost half their faces. Perhaps he had thought his injury, which he'd kept for everyone to see, would either caution them or raise the bar... Now, as he stood there, he wondered if they might have lost the same amount of themselves that he had.
Phantom heard footsteps next to him, and as he turned, he came face to face with the Winter Queen. Commander T'Rena, his First Officer. The frigid cunt who sucked the Captain's cock and poured poison in his ear. Having had his time with Doctor Maya, he could imagine it quite clearly. "Commander, I would ask if you enjoyed the party last night, but I know the answer and I don't really care anyway. I will convene with my pilots shortly. Your orders?"
"To close your mouth and understand before you speak," said T'Rena gravely, and put her hand on his cheek. "My thoughts to y-"
He snatched her wrist and kept the hand away. "Understand what?" he asked, not liking mind tricks one bit. Of what issue did she speak?
The Vulcan did not look like she did, but the irritated frown was plainly there nonetheless. "How you can save the last few pilots you have left." Slowly, she twisted her wrist against his thumb to come loose from the grip, and Phantom did not move away when he heard her words. "You will understand a new purpose in this fool's errand we are on, and see our future for what it may be. What we need to do... to avoid it more unnecessary deaths."
Phantom glared at her, but he let her lay her hand on him again.
And then he understood.
[ USS Harbinger | Deck 01 | Main Bridge | 1050 hrs. ] Attn: IronFerrox & Kurohigi
Emerging from the turbolift, ThanIda zh'Wann walked into the Main Bridge of the Harbinger with a heavy heart. Yet she did not let it show, of course, holding her head high as she entered, even carrying her large Starfleet-issue duffle bag over her shoulder. Clothes and personal affections mostly, since her canvases and sketchbooks had been beamed over from the Theurgy already since they were so cumbersome. She nodded her head to the present officers, among them being Aisha S'Ithi at the helm and next to her - whom she had spoken with at Lohlunat the night before - Chief Selena Ravenholm.
Presently, Captain Vasser was not in his chair, which was presently occupied by the Executive Officer, T'Rena. Seeing her, Ida set her bag down and folded her hands behind her back, her antennae rising along with her chin as she spoke. "Junior Lieutenant Than'Ida zh'Wann reporting for duty, Commander."
"At ease... Lieutenant," said the Vulcan woman as she slowly rose to her feet. Ida knew that the Vulcan was over eighty years old, and that she had spent most of her life in some temple before joining Starfleet. To Ida, she seemed the epitome of a Vulcan acolyte, and it made the fact that she was one of the best regarded hand-to-hand combat instructors in the whole fleet somewhat unsettling. "Welcome to the Harbinger."
It was only after a second that Ida realised that the emphasis of her rank suggested a promotion. Of course, being Chief of Security would mean that she had to be re-promoted to full Lieutenant again. Ida had not thought about it after Wenn Cinn blew her off that morning.
"Thank you, Commander." Ida inclined her head. "What are your orders?"
"Since we have not been properly aquainted, I would like to sit down with you in my Ready Room once Captain Vasser returns," said the Vulcan, and her unsmiling way was completely at odds with the friendly invitation.
Typical Vulcan indeed, thought Ida, remembering how the woman had not been too impressed with how she handled Sonja Acreth when she first tried to escape. She cleared her throat, glancing towards her bag and the chronometer at Chief Ravenholm's Ops station. "Since the mission to Starbase 84 will commence in an hour, may I please go to the Security Office first and see what kind of arsenal and personnel I have to work with? Otherwise I cannot plan for what is to come. I can submit a full report when I return just before we lay in the new course."
T'Rena paused a second, and Ida did not know if she had offended the Vulcan, but just like that, T'Rena nodded. "Of course. I am pleased by your judgement and I look forward to speaking with you at a more opportune moment. I hope your new position with us will give you a better opportunity to serve to the best of your capacity."
"Yeah, something like that. Thank you." Ida picked up her bag again, "I'll be back here in an hour."
As she turned to walk back towards the turbolift, Ida could not shake the feeling that the Vulcan stared at her the whole time.
[ USS Harbinger | Deck 01 | Main Bridge | 1055 hrs. ] Attn: IronFerrox & Kurohigi
After the Andorian left, T'Rena had sat down to write a message into the arm-rest of the CO chair. With her face blank, she did not need to read the words once she was finished.
SECURITY LEVEL: HIGH
TO: ALL SECURITY PERSONNEL
FROM: CMDR T'RENA, EXECUTIVE OFFICER
SUBJECT:
<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<BEGIN MESSAGE>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>
Security Personnel,
As of today, you have returned to the Harbinger after a brief time aboard the Theurgy. You, along with all of your comrades, have learned the truth about the only outcome of Captain Ives' enterprise. High risk without and margin for success, while our true work has only just begun.
Your orders are to ensure that those yet to understand our true cause does not take action or provoke the events that has already been set in motion. In that regard, you will apprehend your new Chief of Security and detain her in a holding cell until I have come to visit her.
Moreover, Doctor Duv must also be apprehended for the same reason. Before I can make her see the future as it may unfold, her oath as a doctor may cause her to make rash decisions.
You may use as much force as it takes to ensure that the two are apprehended before 1200 hrs. We cannot afford any mistakes if we are to succeed.
That is all,
Commander T'Rena
Executive Officer
<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<END MESSAGE>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>
Once she had finished writing it, T'Rena sent it off without any hesitation and rose from her chair. She stepped up to the Ops and CONN stations at the forefront of the Bridge, hands on her hips, and when Captain Vasser emerged from his Ready Room, she inclined her head to him.
"Chief Ravenholm," she said, lifting a hand to gesture for another Operations Officer to take the augmented woman's post. "We have just received messages from the Theurgy with important mission parameters that fit your area of expertise. I would like to go over them with you to ensure that they are both accurate and that you can do what may be asked of you. Infiltrating a Starbase on the border to Romulan space in this time of unrest may - suffice to say - prove difficult. Please follow me."
And then she led the way into her Ready Room.
[ USS Harbinger | Deck 06 | Main Sickbay | 1100 hrs. ] Attn: Nolan
Since the majority of the injured had been beamed aboard the Theurgy on Theta Eridani IV, Dr. Duv's Sickbay lay very quiet... almost eerily so.
There were not too many of her staff left either, since virtually all of her medical personnel had been transferred over to the Theurgy. This, after the decision to make the Harbinger a support ship to the Theurgy, and that the Akira-class ship was to be manned by a skeleton crew. That left Doctor Duv with only the amount of personnel that regulations said the skeleton crew required.
There was plenty to do, however, since entire Sickbay area was a complete mess after Duv's absence, with too little focus having been laid on restoring things to a proper orderly level with all that had happened.
It was into this desolate mess that two Security Officers entered through the sliding doors, phasers at their hips. They were both Petty Officers, and they looked around until they found the Chief Medical Officer, at which point they spoke up.
"Doctor Duv," said the tall, blonde one named Elliot Grant, "Can you please come with us?"
"It's for your own safety," said the other one, Liam Andersson, and he reached and took the combadge from the Trill's chest, preventing her to contact anyone. "Commander T'Rena will tell you more as soon as she is able to."
During the last phase in this grief model, the subject may learn to accept and deal with the reality of its situation. Its acceptance does not necessarily mean instant happiness, and given the pain and turmoil it has experienced, it may never return to the carefree, untroubled being that existed before the incident. Yet it may still find a way forward in its petty life: a means to deal with the past that makes it content.
- Manipulation of Grief, by Host named cin Nicander