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CH05: S [D03|1730] Clearing the Air

Chapter 05: Supplemental [ Day 03 | 1730 hrs. ] Clearing the Air

[ Cmdr Carrigan Trent | Captain's Ready Room | Deck 01 | USS Theurgy ] Attn: @Blue Zephyr

It had been less than two hours since Commander Carrigan Trent as his first act as Theurgy's new commanding officer, had given the order to withdraw from the action against the Savi vessel Versant.  Since he had been forced by abandon members of his crew behind.  And he didn't even have anything resembling a casualty report yet as it was still being compiled from the fragmentary reports that had been shared by the Vectors before they had all gone to warp on their separate ways.  But, what had been almost immediate, had been the damage reports, and those were being addressed.

Which meant, he did have some time on his hands to deal with other parts of ship's business.  And part of that would be dealing with that passenger the Sabine had picked up on their mission.  And, speaking of which, he would need a full mission report at some point, but for now it was not exactly a high priority.  In fact, he hated himself for not taking the time to contact Heather.  But he did have a ship to put to rights before he could think of such a thing. 

So, instead he decided he would meet with that newcomer who presumed giving him orders not once but twice, and the second time well after he had made it clear such was not welcome from her.  And, with a quick call to Security, he sent for her to be brought to what was now his office.

Re: Chapter 05: Supplemental [ Day 03 | 1730 hrs. ] Clearing the Air

Reply #1 –
[Zyrao Natauna | Knockin' Back and Chillin' Large |  Getting to Know the Locals | USS Theurgy]
@CanadianVet

The day had definitely been interesting.  So much had changed, that much was for certain.  She had left the Klingons with a plan of her own.  She hadn't expected them to explode and die in the stars.  She had not expected that the defense mechanisms inside the moon base would have sent a shock wave outwards that would destroy the ship that had been her home for such a very long time.  Zyrao made a point of not getting overly attached to her homes.  She had learned long ago that home was nothing but a temporary place to rest your head.  There was no attachment to home.  When you had watched your entire race and home fall to the evils of the Borg and then all the horror that came after that.. she found that home was a novelty that she could no longer afford.  Home was where she currently stood it was nothing more than a holding place in her life.

Down time, another luxury that she had entertained such little of.  The battle had slid to a halt and Zyrao found herself without a job.  There was nothing, currently, that she needed to do, take care of, or even entertain.  The one thing that she was a bit thankful for was the fact that she did not have to entertain the Captain once more.  While she had not wished for his and the death of all the Klingon onboard his ship, she grew tired of his incessant needs.

There wasn't a table.  They didn't need one.  She and Sera sat away from the hustle and bustle of people doing actual jobs.  Neither of them were interested.  She had come out, distruptors blazing and her sharp eye hopefully helping to turn the tide of the battle and Sera at her side.  The two were strangers, not of the original crew, and these two had become unlikely allies.  However it had happened, it was something nice.  Zyrao would have been fine alone, standing in a corner taking in all the information and all the people of the deck.  She loved to observe, she could find how the people worked.  Though right now it was all about how they were surviving.

Surviving meant they were tough, but this battle was not yet won.

“Careful, slow sips, this is potent.”  she said reaching into her pocket and pulling out a small flat flask.  She unscrewed the cap with one of her hands, two fingers spinning the top around until it fell off the threads and to the side.  “Klingon moonshine, pretty sure it'll clean the floors of this hell hole.”

She allowed Sera the first sip if she wanted it before she took it back and pressed it to her own lips and took a nice mouthful of the concoction into her mouth and let it settle on her tongue for a moment. It stung any and every small cut or wound in her mouth.  Swallowing she felt the healthy burn from her mouth all the way down to her stomach where it settled heavily.  “Ah, yeah.” she grinned quite satisfied from the amazing booze that warmed her from the inside out.

She picked up a small piece of fruit, the kind she had been eating when she had intercepted the messages from Jack and made her plan in the Captain's ready room.  She pushed it between her plump lips and chewed slowly.  The fruit after the burn of the booze made for a good pairing and it was one of her favorites.  Sera should likely believe herself lucky for sharing in such a treat.  Grey eyes surveyed the deck.  The Turbolift opened and two Security personnel stepped out of the lift and scanned the deck.  She wasn't hiding but she wasn't exactly in plain view either so it took several moments for their eyes to find her.  One pointed, the other looked, they both nodded.

“Here comes trouble.”  She was speaking in El-Aurian, it was her go-to language when she could and after speaking Klingon so long she found it was actually quite nice to stretch her tongue in a completely different way.

“Watch, I bet they're here to escort me.  Likely to the rigid and tight asshole that cut me off earlier or to the Brig.  Truthfully, the latter seems the smarter move but then the intelligence of the rod repository on the backside of that idiotic prick it would likely be the first.”

Taking the flask back again from Sera she put it to her lips and took a long, large, gulp before wiping the back of her cuff across her lips.  The two nearly walked in step with each other, massive shoulders bulging with muscles, the meat head type.  They had nothing on the men she had spent time with on her last ship.  Even if one of them were Klingon, he was diminutive at best to the Klingon she had spent her last years around. 

They came to a quick stop in front of her.  She didn't meet their eyes at the moment.  Instead she took another sip of her flask before her eyes drifted up their yellow uniforms to their faces where they looked down at her with clear disdain.  She was not one of them, and she didn't really long to be, if their leader could look such a wealth of information in the face and turn the other direction.

“Captain Trent requests your attendance in his ready room.”

Zyrao let her lip quirk slightly.  “Does he now?  So formal.” she said as she picked up a piece of the fruit and slid it into her mouth.  Placing it into her cheek she chewed slightly.  She didn't bother to get up, she looked over at Sera and offered her, yet another sip.

“We were told to come with haste.”

Thankfully the Universal Translator was making sure that both of them could be understood.  She didn't speak common and he didn't speak El-Aurian and that was fine thankfully since they were on the ship.  She was going to have to learn their language, it would make it easier to gather intel if she could know everything the people around her were saying.  For now she had to rely on the translator.  She would remedy that as quickly as possible.  Her eyes shifted to Sera allowing her to finish her drink and then took the flask back for herself.

“Haste.  I bet he does.” 

“We have orders.”

“You do.  But you see, I am not one of his little pets.  I do not come on a whim.  He could have called, he could have apologized for being a massive crooked dick.” she admitted as she took her flask from Sera and screwed the top back into place before slipping it back into her pocket.  Standing up slowly she adjusted the Klingon issue flight suit. 

“We'll need you to leave your..” his sentence left unfinished as he touched her shoulder.  She grabbed his wrist quickly, fluidly, and twisted it, using her body as leverage, and allowed for it to be placed in a position of pain and possibly (if she pushed it further) a break. 

“I am an ally.  You will remain respectful and I will keep my weapons.  I do not answer to you or your ship.  Nor your Captain.  He is not the Captain that I know, until I know for sure the fate of Captain Ives, I will not acknowledge this idiot.”

She let him got and smoothed her hand down the front of her flight suit.  “Lead the way, I will follow.” she motioned towards the lift.

Placing her hands in her pockets she strolled after them, not missing the way that the men constantly looked over their shoulders at the woman following them.  The Turbolift ride was rather quick and she leisurely leaned against the walls.

“So.  Good battle?” she asked the two of them.

The Klingon cursed and she chuckled darkly from where she stood.  “There is such a thing as a good battle Klingon, you must have left your kind behind long ago.  Starfleet has made you soft.”

He grumbled under his breath, she caught his cursing in Klingon and she gave a shrug.  “Maybe so.  But then, I might be more Klingon than you.”

Before he could lash out at her the doors opened and the threesome stepped out onto the Bridge.  She took a moment to take in the monstrosity of the room around her.  The people in various colored uniform as if someone unintelligent couldn't quite remember who was for which department and thus they all needed a glaring color for reminding.  It was ridiculous.  More and more she could see why the Klingon's thought the Federation beneath them.  However, she knew differently.  Starfleet might not be the best of the best, but they were some of the good ones collected together for a common cause.

Often, that was even more profound.

She was lead to the Ready room with a quick sound from the Klingon instead of a hand.  Good, they were learning.  The Ready Room was large as well, she stepped in brushing her short hair out of her face as she used her boot to kick out one of the chairs.  It slid back away from the table, a couple feet.  Just enough that she could turn her back to it and she sat down causing it to scoot back a couple extra inches.  Cool grey eyes surveyed the man that populated the room along with his security lackeys.

“I hope you don't think you actually need the babysitters.” she said in her El-Aurian native tones.  The Universal Translator picking her up clearly since the language was well known to the computer systems of Starfleet.  So this is the dick I have to kiss in order to stay on board until Ives gets here and vouches for me.  This is the overly tight sphincter that cut me off earlier.

“What can I do for you.” she said as she put her boots up on the table.  One leg, then the other, crossed at the ankles.  The leather of her boots creaking slightly as she did so.  She leaned back slightly in her seat, hands resting on her stomach fingers slid in between one another.  She waited.  Eyes boring into the man in the room.

Re: Chapter 05: Supplemental [ Day 03 | 1730 hrs. ] Clearing the Air

Reply #2 –
[ Cmdr Carrigan Trent | Captain's Ready Room | Deck 01 | USS Theurgy ] Attn: @Blue Zephyr

Carrigan Trent was a man who believed in preparation above all.  And, besides all he knew of the woman was that she had the nerve to dictate orders to him in the middle of battle not once but twice, let alone after he had made it perfectly clear that such was unacceptable.  And, that meant he had absolutely no compunctions in directing the internal sensors towards her location when the Security team had gone to fetch her, and he observed the interaction in process. 

A problem with the Continuance Protocol was that there would be some confusion across every department, and there would be some growing pains while things would settle down.  Which meant he did not have the kind of experience he would have liked on hand to go and get their newest passenger.  But when he saw the woman place one of the guards in an arm bar, Trent's eyes hardened.  Her words, he could tolerate, for now.  But he certainly would not accept it again, not after the meeting they would be having shortly. 

The wait had not been long, and when the trio entered, he was not particularly surprised when she seated herself without asking first, and planted her feet on the desk.  However, Trent's face betrayed no emotion at all as he calmly rose to his feet and walked around the desk, without saying a word.  And, just as silently, he reached out with his prosthetic hand and swept the offending feet off of the desk with absolutely no ceremony whatsoever, and only then did he regard the woman. 

His face betrayed no emotion, and when he spoke, it was with calm assurance in his typical, tightly-controlled near-whisper.  "You demand respect, yet you offer none of your own; in fact, you offer the exact opposite."  As he made his way back towards his side of the desk, still having not dismissed the guards.  He would need to have it made clear that in the future they were not to walk someone through the Bridge, but instead come through the Yeoman's Office off of the access corridor, but such was a matter for another time. 

However, as Trent reached the far side of the desk, he did not seat himself.  Instead, he stood by one of the windows, looking out.  This was his ready room; and, despite never having wanted to inherit a command in such a way, it was his ship.  And he would brook nothing that would undermine its good order and effectiveness, especially not a passenger who thought herself above even basic civility.  After all, while the sentence had gone out of style a long time ago in common parlance, there was one thing that remained true about a ship's commander: he was the sole master on board after the divine; he might take orders from a flag officer or even a civilian at times as to what mission needed accomplishing, but the running of the ship itself was left to the sole authority of her captain.  "You will not lay a hand on any member my crew again, and you will surrender your weapons.  You may not be a member of this crew, but this is my ship and you are subject to my authority.  If you cannot accept this, you will find yourself in a cell."  Do not test me, he did not add.

The man was quiet, but it would take a rare fool to believe that he was weak because he would not raise his voice.  In fact, he viewed yelling and shouting as a complete loss of control.  Nor would it be wise to confuse the low volume for anything less than his final decision.

Re: Chapter 05: Supplemental [ Day 03 | 1730 hrs. ] Clearing the Air

Reply #3 –
[Zyrao Natauna | Brass Balls A Knockin' | R.E.S.P.E.C.T Find Out What It Means To Me | Diplomatic Battle Ground]

Her eyes followed the man as he moved around the table.  She was trained to follow and trained to fight.  Her body was never without prep for a battle.  She had learned how to sleep lightly, to wake quickly, and she was never without a weapon somewhere close.  It might be something small but then when you had lived a life as she had, been a soldier and survived the way she had, you could turn anything into a weapon.  As he got to her side of the table, he continued to droll on more and more and quickly swept her feet off of the table.  They smacked heavily into the deck plating because she let them.  She could have tightened her abdominal muscles and caught them easily, but she didn't want to. 

This was going to be a war, a battle, on the grounds of respect and understanding.

“You look me in the face and do not take the time to know me.  You are angered, you may think your face reads passive but I have had centuries of experience pulling information from people far better at hiding things than you.” she stated.  He was trying to be the tough guy.  Talking about respect and the things like that.  “Trust me you have received more respect from myself than many others would have in this position.  I looked only to aid you in your battle against the aliens.  You thought it prudent to cut off communications with me before even remotely entertaining the information I might have brought with me.”

He went to face the window.  Zyrao hooked her boot underneath the arm of one of the closer chairs and pulled it close.  She shifted her boots into the seat of the chair arms crossing loosely underneath the chest that she had.  Her eyes stared dead at the back of the man's head for a moment before reaching into her pocket and pulling out the flask that she had shared with Sera.  He told her that she would not lay a hand on his crew and that she would reliquish her weapons when asked to.  She was on his ship.  Zyrao rolled her eyes, only because that asshole couldn't see her and if he did look at her reflection in the glass that was fine.  She did nothing without reason.  He was being a childish idiot.

“When one of your men lays a hand on my person without asking permission or for any real reason they will all receive the same treatment.  I may not be a member of your crew but I am no prisoner and I have done nothing wrong.  I already relinquished my weapons, on your broken little shuttle.  Where I tried to save Ida, and spoke of the betrayer, the Jack fellow.  I am the one that tried to get in contact with you to tell you about the amount of ships, their formations and the like when I could, and yet, you told me not to be on your air ways.  If you wish for assistance and the kind of knowledge that I have attained you will start to treat me more as a person and less as a criminal.  I have done nothing to you and your crew other than try to save each and every one of them.  I fought with your people, side by side, in the Moon base.  I saved Ida from floating away to die.  It was my idea to put her in the transport buffer to save her life.  It is not my fault it exploded before we could make it back here.”

She took a sip of her flask before screwing the top back on.

“You sit here in your fancy office and you're pretentious position and think that you know the best.  You were not on the Moon, you were not in your Broken Shuttlecraft, you were not down on the bay as Sera and I fought back to back.  You think you can take my disruptor because you ask?  I do not think you have the balls to take it from me.  Neither do they, you know nothing of me, you are not even informed on my actions with your crew.  How many of them vouch for me.  The things I have done.  Yet to stand there and speak to me as though I am an Interloper or a Criminal.”

Zy tilted her head to the side.  All her words were delivered very smoothly.  Not a hint of anger or anything of the sort.  It was as if she was just having a conversation with someone she knew.  He didn't rile her up, he was just being an absolute idiot in this situation and she was making sure that they knew it. 

“I had already risen, down below, to follow your .. people.. here.  There was no actual reason to put their hands upon my body.  My disruptor has only been risen in support of saving your ship and the lives of the crew within it.  If you wish to look me in the face and start this conversation over, I would quite approve.”  She stated and went quiet, tucking her flask back into her pocket and closing it's flap to keep it secure.

Re: Chapter 05: Supplemental [ Day 03 | 1730 hrs. ] Clearing the Air

Reply #4 –
[ Cmdr Carrigan Trent | Captain's Ready Room | Deck 01 | USS Theurgy ] Attn: @Blue Zephyr

"Nor is it my fault I've yet to have received any reports to corroborate anything you are saying," Trent replied in his usual near-whisper as he still looked out the window. 

Was he angry?  Not quite.  He was tired, he was under a great deal of stress, and frustrated by a lack of concrete information on which to base his planning and decision-making at this point.  That was the main reason he had asked to see this new passenger, to at least make some productive use of his time while he was awaiting the reports and analysis he would require to start laying the outline of the future of their mission and develop a strategy to make it happen. 

And only then did he turn around to face her.  "And if I meant to treat you as a criminal you would have been spending your time in a cell, and you would be in restraints.  I did you the courtesy of walking here instead of having you beamed over without warning.  You may wish to keep that in mind as well." 

Keeping a neutral expression was a skill that was priceless for a commander.  It allowed one to keep the crew from seeing any hints of fear or anger, and it inspired confidence because they would not see their commander was as subject to the same emotions they were.  Oh, of course they knew he felt them, but he knew of the strength that was derived from a calm and composed leader.  In fact, he remembered in Basic Officer Training how one of his instructors told him and his coursemates that one of the great secrets of leadership was to be the only one knowing just how close one was to losing his shit. 

Looking at the woman, Trent's eyebrows briefly moved into what might be qualified as a highly transient frown, seeing how her feet were not propped on another chair instead of his desk.  That was hardly an improvement on the situation, and was giving a lie as to how she was indeed showing him respect. 

"You are correct, I did cut you off in the midst of battle.  But let me pose you a tactical problem.  You are commanding a force composed of several warp-capable assets that have just been compromised by widespread computer failures caused by enemy action.  You have no shields that are any use in combat due to the radiation in the area and facing an overwhelming threat, and determine withdrawal is the sole way to guarantee survival.  Furthermore, due to personnel reassignments and severe casualties across your force, your crew is still reorganizing itself.  Now, a complete stranger first starts to dictate orders in an already highly fluid situation that requires everyone's close attention and a clear chain of command, of whom that stranger is no part of.   Then that same stranger, after being instructed otherwise, comes back into contact and demands a detailed briefing while you are occupied in closely coordinating all your assets' fire and movement to increase your odds of survival and are to execute a delicate maneuver in which timing is absolutely critical in order to effect a successful withdrawal.  My question is, what do you do?  Give that stranger attention you cannot spare, or focus on the matter that is immediately at hand and deal with that stranger, whom you do not know from a hole in the ground and whose credentials are completely unknown, when your immediate survival has been assured?"


Re: Chapter 05: Supplemental [ Day 03 | 1730 hrs. ] Clearing the Air

Reply #5 –
[Zyrao Natauna | Once a Dick Always a Dick | Lessons in Idiocy | Playing Dress-Up Captain]
@CanadianVet

Zyrao watched the man, his dislike for her was evident.  She had centuries of reading people under her belt.  He didn't even know her race, her name, her rank, or what she had done.  Piss poor shit fest of a “Captain” hasn't even fucking been briefed.  What a useless sack of inflated air and biological matter.  Zy let her tongue slide across her upper teeth for a moment as he spoke to her about not having confirmed or heard anything of what she had done on the Sabine, or on the Moon Base.  All that she had given up and sacrificed was for naught as far as this dick head was concerned.  Her eyes turned from impassive to cold in a heart beat.  That he hadn't done any research at all on her person, or spoken to anyone what so ever before calling her up here spoke ill of his efforts to run the ship.

They put a child in charge of a mother fucking space ship.  Are we going to have pew-pew battles next?  Is there going to be a little tantrum when you don't win your fucking battles because you are too stupid to see past your own fucking nose and into the bigger picture of the universe around you?  It took everything in her power not to say that last part out loud, though her mind was screaming it as loud as it possibly could.  She could not imagine working for or underneath such a man.  Anyone that could or would find something admirable about him would need to get their eyes examined and quite likely, corrected. 

As he decided to enumerate the things she ought to keep in mind, a cold, dark, dangerous smirk crossed her lips.  Just a little twitch, a sign that many had only seen before death had come knocking on their door.  She crossed her arms over her chest, her head tilted side ways as she tried to figure out where the intelligence that Starfleet valued so highly had gone.  Because, clearly, it wasn't present in this room in this fucking sphincter of a man.

“Oh is this how you treat your valued guests?  I can see Starfleet hospitality is lacking severely.” she commented, very calm, very low key.  However, there was an edge to her voice, she was finding herself being pushed into a place that the fuck puppet in front of her was not going to enjoy.  Though she might, sometimes, death deserved to take the long and slow road to completion. 

He thought he was neutral, but he wasn't.  There were gives, small ticks, the way his eyes flickered.  Small minor things that lesser trained and long lived people could have missed easily.  But, not her.  She had been around far longer, and dealt with people far adept at hiding themselves than the man in front of her.  She twisted her body as he moved keeping him in her eye sight, though she never once put her legs down.  It was ill advised to knock them back out. 

This meeting is going to shit. she thought, as she studied the man.

Oh he was posing a question, wasn't he adorable.  Her lips retained that dangerous smirk as he charged on with his little scenario.  Zy cast her eyes up to the ceiling for a moment and inflated her lungs with air to their fullest capacity before she allowed it all to slowly seep back out.  Her eyes flickered back down to the fuck face that was standing there droning on treating her as though she was an invalid.  Or some kind of child.  It was nothing that she approved of, and she could not believe that he had attained the rank he had.  Must have fucked his way to the top.  Can't say as I blame him there, but, seriously, at least try to be a fucking intelligent officer. 

Zy let silence fill the room for a moment.  She knew he was waiting for an answer.  And, he wasn't going to get the one that he fucking wanted.  Tilted to the right, she heard the pops of cartilage in her neck before she tilted to the left and heard the same.  Feeling the tingle of release that came from popping ones joints she moved.  It was a very smooth move.  She kicked the chair away from her before the two boys behind her even realized she had moved.  The chair slid about three feet from where it had been and Zy used the momentum of her kick to rise quickly and turn slamming her hands down on the table that stood between the two of them.  Her eyes flickered up and bore straight into Trent's.

“Lets cut the shit.” she said simply.  “You need my fucking help or I wouldn't be in this fucking office.  Right?  So why are we here playing games of who is more bad ass.  Everyone already knows the answer to that question, so lets not waste time playing games.  You want help?  Great, lets get after it.  You don't want help.  I can see myself out.  Because, if you don't have time to talk to me while this big battle is going on because multi-tasking is a skill that you lack, then hand your mantle over to some other fucker that can handle it.  If you want to stand here wasting time, playing your childish games, of who is more right.  You can play with your little boy toys there, I have better shit to do.  Like go drink, with the friend I made on your Broken Shuttle.  Yes, friend.  And had you been a First Officer worthy of your title, you would have done some research before calling me in here and trying to dominate me.”

She smirked, that dangerous smirk.

“You do not have the balls to dominate me.” she said simply her eyes never leaving his.  “Your choice, now or never. Work or leave?”

Re: Chapter 05: Supplemental [ Day 03 | 1730 hrs. ] Clearing the Air

Reply #6 –
[ Cmdr Carrigan Trent | Captain's Ready Room | Deck 01 | USS Theurgy ] Attn: @Blue Zephyr

Observing a tactical situation dispassionately was something Carrigan Trent did very well.  And reading the opposition was an integral part of it.  And when that woman came into the Ready Room and, without so much as a by your leave or waiting to be invited to do so, she not only took a seat but also planted her feet onto the desk, it had set the tone for this conversation.  She had made it clear over the comm she had a very high opinion of her tactical abilities and value, and apparently she was not used to people not simply allowing her to inject herself into their decision loop.

And, on top of it all, she seemed to take deep personal offence that he did not take her at her word without knowing a bloody thing about her.  So, either she did not value caution and evaluating information at hand, or she had an extremely high opinion of herself.  One going to such a point that she viewed his refusal to take her advice blindly and take his concentration, and occupy the very limited bandwidth that was afforded by direct verbal communications to give her a details briefing when the survival of the ship was dependent on split-second timing and near perfect reactions from the people who would need to carry out the orders as a direct affront. 
 
When the woman bolted to her feet, the guards behind her both reached for their weapons, but it was Trent's raised hand that stilled them. Tensions were high enough as they were, and the last thing that was needed was the Security personnel making a rash move. 

The stupid and the inept, even if at time they could posture quite well, tended not to hold up to scrutiny.  And while she did not answer the question he posed her, as one would expect of someone who talked a big game but had little to offer, she did answer with the kind of confidence that was hard to fake.  Especially since she would not admit that she might not have been the best-advised to try and force her way into his decision-making process at the most inopportune time.  No, she was capable.  Rude, arrogant and supremely disrespectful, but capable. 

And she wanted to be an asset to the ship?  At this point in time, Vector 1 could not afford to discard anything, not even the bodies of the dead Savi and Asurians on board.  And someone who had enough of an appreciation of warfare to sincerely believe their advice was such a critical resource that even wanting to verify who that person was first was taken as a personal offence?  That was a resource that could be utilized.  Provided it could be controlled in some way. 

And, to tell him the choice was his?  That was an interesting move, making him think he had the initiative when, really, she was the one who held the cards...

And the nerve on her, to imply that she was in the position of power.  Well, in a way she was as he could not compel her assistance and any support he would get would be entirely voluntary.  And while he was no slouch in a physical confrontation, Trent knew his strengths were better suited to the command chair and the management of a battlespace.  Was she better than him?  She made no secret she thought very little of him, but her opinion of him was inconsequential...

But he could deal with that, if she was half as good as she was acting she was.

"If you are indeed as good as you claim, then we both know I am in no position to reject any asset out of hand.  But nor am I in a position to give you blind trust.  And while I am willing to work with you, we are also both quite aware I cannot compel you to do so.  Which means that really the choice is entirely yours.  You can leave with these guards and find yourself confined to quarters, or I can dismiss them and we can start over in a far more civil manner."

Re: Chapter 05: Supplemental [ Day 03 | 1730 hrs. ] Clearing the Air

Reply #7 –
[Zyrao Natauna | Tantrums of the Upper Echelon | Kneel Before Greatness | Check Mate-Mate]
@CanadianVet

He was right.

She held all the cards in her hand.  She could walk, she could turn her back on this idiot that stood here in pants that were way too fucking big for him.  She wondered if he actually thought himself capable of filling the role in which he found himself in.  Or if he was just going to remain a child trying to pretend to be his father.  He would never quite fill the shoes of the man that had come before him, he would just sit there and throw shit at the wall and see if it stuck properly.  Zyrao had already lowered her expectations of the man.  Whatever she had thought of the Interim Captain before she had stepped on this deck had gone far lower.  The way he treated someone so haphazardly, almost angrily, when she had only offered assistance.

Zy also believed he thought she took offense to him disregarding her assistance.  That was not the case, it wasn't a personal plight at all.  In fact, it was less personal, and more just realizing the level of idiocy that sat in a seat of supremacy.  The benefit of making it seem as though he had a modicum of control over the situation was just to placate his apparent need to be superior than her.  He was an officer surely that would be much better than someone that was just a Strategist.

His age was showing.

He began to speak and Zyrao fought very hard not to roll her eyes.  She only stared at him with her grey eyes.  Which would have probably have been considered lovely if it wasn't for the fact that they were piercing straight through his soul as words puked out of his mouth.  She could tell he was unused to having his position challenged.  Which made the state of this ship that much more sad.  He might have gone to a special school to earn the little dots on his collar but he had not the experience of dealing with people that didn't bow to his shining dots, nor did he have the experience in the field that she did.  That did not mean he wouldn't hold any intelligence what so ever, only that he had a great deal to learn.  It mattered little though, she had won the battle of wills in the room.  That was all that mattered for the moment.

He was, but human, afterall.

If she had to stab at his age she would estimate about thirty.. something.  She wasn't good enough to estimate close enough her dealings with humans were highly limited.  It was the other scum of the universe that she knew well.  When he asked her if she wanted to go to a Quarters where she would be confined, or if she wanted to start over, Zyrao had to bite her tongue.  Did I not literally ask you to start over some five minutes ago.  This man lacks all intelligence.  She closed her eyes for a moment, because she needed to chill out for half a tick before she throttled the man.  There was only so much patience this old woman had before she lashed out and she needed to do something.  Either make herself useful or tell the ship to blow itself up it was the only way others wouldn't succumb to the rigors of the alien races hell bent on attacking them.

Letting out a long breath she stood up.  You have to get this fucker straight Zyrao or this whole fucking ship is doomed.  He clearly doesn't know how to win a battle much less put his big boy pants on and take responsibility.  Why he would expect a complete stranger to bow and grovel to him, it's quite disgusting.  Perhaps the Klingon weren't so crude afterall.  Her eyes studied the man for a moment before she stuck her hand out.

“Zyrao Natauna.” she said smoothly.  “Strategist and Former Member of the KDF.” she explained though he likely knew the Klingon part she was in their uniform.  He did not need to know her vast history, nor what race she was, nor anything else at the moment.  They didn't have time to have a little pow wow story time with snacks and juice boxes.  They had to get the fuck to work if they were going to save the crew.

Re: Chapter 05: Supplemental [ Day 03 | 1730 hrs. ] Clearing the Air

Reply #8 –
[ Cmdr Carrigan Trent | Captain's Ready Room | Deck 01 | USS Theurgy ] Attn: @Blue Zephyr

Contempt.  If there was one thing he could get from that woman was the sheer contempt she held him in.  Because he would not let a complete stranger into his decision loop in the middle of a crisis.  Because he had decided to focus on the battle in space and trust Security to handle the counter-boarding action rather than give a stranger a detailed briefing.  Because he was not omniscient and could only operate on information he possessed.  Because he hadn't had the time to do research about her before meeting her.  Because he had actually been busy commanding a ship in battle and making good her escape when, somehow, some Savi fighters had managed pursuit course despite the microtorpedo barrage's effects in disrupting their warp trail. 

And he couldn't even be certain the other Vectors had managed to escape themselves, while they were missing a sizable portion of their crew to captures.  Oh, and a ship that dwarfed Theurgy, with perfect cloaking abilities, that may or may not be crippled and could very well be on the hunt right now.  And he hadn't had a chance to contact Heather yet, and he probably wouldn't for a few hours yet, at least not until he'd have reviewed all the reports and knew exactly all he had he could work with.  And he trusted her to understand that he would call her as soon as he could. 

That was when he realized that he was drained, physically and mentally. 

And then, that woman did the first civil thing she had done so far and offered her hand, though not without a resigned breath.  Well, he did know her name, but nothing else.  But it was a start.  And KDF?  That definitely explained the clothes. And the attitude.  Which brought the ghost of a wry smile to his lips.  "Captain Carrigan Trent."  He had nearly said 'Commander', but despite his rank, he was in command of Theurgy; he never wanted to have a command thrust upon him again like this, but it had happened, so he had to accept the title sooner rather than later.  And the sooner he could change mental gears from 'first officer' to 'captain', the better it would be. 

"You said you would advise.  If you intend to do that, you will need to familiarize yourself with this Vector and its capabilities.  And you'll have to review the sensor take from the engagement with the Savi as well as the ship's logs and engagement records.  Some of my officers may wish a word with you at some point, or you with them.  My first officer Commander Dewitt will facilitate the arrangements.  In the meantime, it will be some time before quarters can be assigned for you, so if you want to get started you can use the Yeoman's office for the time being." 

"In the end, so long as we are understood yours is an advisory capacity and the final decision does not rest with you, I expect we can find a way to work together."

Re: Chapter 05: Supplemental [ Day 03 | 1730 hrs. ] Clearing the Air

Reply #9 –
[Zyrao Natauna | Someone Pulled His Panties Out of his Ass-Crack | Wedgies Make Pretend Captains Pissy | USS Grown-up Time]
@CanadianVet

Captain... Carrigan....

Zryao gave a chuckle of derision.  The fact that his name, to her, read female was not lost on her.  But then, the man was walking around trying to fill boots that were far too large and heavy for him.  She could see the weight on his shoulders.  Pressing down more and more with every breath that he took.  He wasn't ready to be a Captain, and he likely wasn't even ready to be anyone's first officer if this was how he took a stressful situation.  She could understand this was a situation that most weren't trained for, and he was a baby after all.  He was .. maybe thirty .. something.. since as far as she could tell he was human though she wasn't about to ask.  He had aged well, she supposed, but he still had the look.  He was a baby.  She was fighting wars before he was born and she would be fighting them when he took his last breath.

What is it with humans thinking they are a gift to the rest of the universe with their short life spans and truly weak bodily integrity.

Though at least he had found his big-boy britches and tossed them on for good measure.  She wondered if they still had a cartoon animal on the ass or not.  But, she'd rather not check.  She would have to be a very desperate person to woo Trent into her Quarters.  Not that she had any for the moment.  However, he began to speak, and she pushed her ill-thoughts of Trent out of her mind.  She needed to focus on the fact that she could help and if he let her she would probably be even able to help turn the tide of this battle.  As she had on the moon base.  The fact that he was so defensive about himself meant that he lacked confidence in his abilities.

Which made him a shit Commander all together.

Still, there was work to do.  She folded her arms across her chest and listened as he told her there were people that she needed to speak to and those that needed to speak to her.  That she could get some information and even use the Yeoman's office for these things while she waited for Quarters to be assigned.  She supposed it would be better than having to find a small pocket of corridor to camp out in for the work part.  She would sleep where she slept, he didn't need to worry about that.  AT some point she would get a Quarters or be thrown off the ship.  That all remained to be seen honestly.

“Send me everything I need to get a clear picture and my thoughts and strategies will be given to you and your team.  I'm not perfect, I would never state so, but I have a very long life of battles and wars fought underneath my belt.  I'm not young, Trent.” She explained, purposefully not using the word Captain.  “I have experience that many of the officers on this ship lack.  Between all of us, we would be suited to working together as a team.  But I need the picture first.”

She gave a shrug.  He then deigned to remind her that she was a consult and in no way was she running this operation.  Zyrao let out a long sigh, another show of lacking confidence.  “I know my place.” she said cutting herself off before she could call him one of the many names running through her mind in various languages none of them pleasant.  “I am here to assist.  I would have walked out of his office the moment your hands touched my boots otherwise.  Show me where my borrowed office is, and I'll get started.”

She didn't think conversing with the man would truly add any value to her day.  It was best to be done with it and actually get to work.  Maybe I'll call Sera up for a drink while I plot.

Re: Chapter 05: Supplemental [ Day 03 | 1730 hrs. ] Clearing the Air

Reply #10 –
[ Cmdr Carrigan Trent | Captain's Ready Room | Deck 01 | USS Theurgy ] Attn: @Blue Zephyr

That woman's arrogance was starting to wear on Trent.  Under normal circumstances he could have borne it well enough.  But given what had just happened to the ship and the bitter defeat they'd just endured, and the unknown status of the ship and crew itself, his patience was not quite what it normally was.  As a rule he was not one to lose his temper; such was a loss of control that would reflect not only upon him but also affect those around him.  Although, it was getting much more difficult to do so at this point in time.  But still, he held his anger in check. 

"First, I will be sure to send you a primer on Bridge procedures and modes of address."  No one had just called him nothing but 'Trent' in a decade.  And he was not one to refer to someone simply through their last names save in a crunch, or as a show of extreme disfavour as to even warrant not granting the courtesy of rank or title.  Even in basic training and at the Academy, he did no such thing. 

With an incline of his head, he indicated towards the door to the Yeoman's office.  "You will find a console right over there with the information we have.  Until then, there is turbolift you can access in the service corridor to leave this deck, and I'll have Commander Dewitt see you get what you need to get to work.  Carry on."

(Fin?)
 

Re: Chapter 05: Supplemental [ Day 03 | 1730 hrs. ] Clearing the Air

Reply #11 –
[Zyrao Natauna | Up-Start Asshole | Starfleet's Finest Derriere | Ready-To-Leave Room]
@CanadianVet

She was getting underneath his skin. 

Honestly, she was surprised at how easy it was to do so.  Perhaps it was the strain of the situation, perhaps she had already called up his number, won the raffle prize, and got to take it home to fuck with for a while.  Who knew.  But, she could see it in his posture, in his eyes, in the way that he let out his breath.  He would likely need a massage later, maybe he had a male or female that could help with such things.  She certainly hoped so, the poor sap couldn't be entirely useless, could he?

He had to have merit somewhere.

Zyrao closed her eyes for a moment as he told her that he was going to send her a primer on Bridge ettiquette.  He was likely just pissed that she didn't call him Captain, but frankly he wasn't her Captain and he would have to earn the right and respect level to actually be called such a thing.  She was not his underling.  He might have rank on her and be able to toss her in a Brig but he would lose the valuable asset that she brought with herself. 

I'm going to enjoy pushing this man's buttons I think. she mused to herself letting her grey eyes slide back open.

“I think I've been on a few ships in my life time and I understand the merit of rank and procedure, send it if you will but I don't think it's going to help us win the battles that loom ahead.” she reminded him simply as she stood up right brushing her hand through her dark short hair.

He dismissed her to do her job.  For a moment she considered fucking with him more, plopping back down and asking for some fresh tea and something to eat.  Maybe something bloody, or something Klingon, half of those meals still moved when you ate them.  She wondered how he would feel if she sat in his office and slurped some worms or something.  She'd eaten worse. 

Give the poor thing a break, Zy, you'll break him and you've hardly started.

“Right, to work I go.  Was.... interesting, meeting you, until next time.” she gave a bit of a half wave and headed over to the console that he had motioned to earlier.  The one inside the Yeoman's office.  The one where she could have some damn privacy and she would be able to collect her thoughts, work her magic, save lives.

The usual.

==Fin==
 
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