Day 02 [1620 hrs.] Grindstone

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Day 02 [1620 hrs.] Grindstone

October 19, 2017, 04:47:56 PM

[ Lt JG Nator 159 | Corridors | Deck 21 | Vector 03 | USS Theurgy ] Attn: @Brutus

In the back of hir mind, s/he knew that testing Nicander's ultimatum was unwise. But that hadn't stopped hir from making only the barest minimum of effort to pick up a chaperone from the department. Nator blamed hir discomfort at feeling like a stranger on hir own ship as a justification; having to speak to everyone by rank was alienating. S/he grit hir teeth as s/he remembered the interaction hours before.

The ensign looked up, blinking in... what? Surprise? Recognition? "Lieutenant," he'd greeted. S/he couldn't tell by his voice how he felt.

"Ensign. Is Commander-" hir voice caught as s/he realised s/he didn't remember who to ask for. "-is the Chief available?"

"No, sir. She's in a meeting... May I help? I'm just finishing up; I have a few minutes before I have to-"

"No, that's fine. Carry on, Ensign."

S/he'd made a swift exit, pulling a gripe sheet out of the computer from a wall panel down the hall. S/he hated that s/he was still unable to recall such basic facts from knowledge s/he knew s/he possessed. The triggers for recalling the information also seemed to shift and change; it made it impossible to adapt. Every time s/he thought s/he worked it out, the rug was pulled from under hir again, in some endless sadistic cycle.

The thought of hir recovery entailing weeks or months more of this didn't exactly fill hir with excitement.

On the way down to hir current location, s/he'd written a simple subroutine on a PADD (subsequently uploaded to the internal sensor net) to fulfil the letter of Nicander's orders. S/he'd rely on hir ability to fast-talk hir way out of trouble later. In theory.

Right now, though, s/he was lying on hir back buried up to hir waist in a bulkhead, legs curled to one side on the deck outside to try and pose as little a trip hazard as possible. Periodically, some ruined ODN board or warped metallic component, surface coloured in the shades of the rainbow thanks to overheating, would be ejected from the hatch to collect under hir elevated knees while s/he worked.

Nator wasn't thrilled about being up close and personal with another damaged EPS relay, given the circumstances of hir absence from the crew in the first place, but this one was very thoroughly depowered and its flow rerouted well in advance of hir arrival. There had been a moment a couple of hours ago when the deck had rumbled beneath hir back and the ship had gone to Yellow alert, but no General Quarters call followed, so s/he simply resumed hir work. Perhaps I could have used a chaperone for this... extra pair of hands would have been useful, s/he admitted.

A coupling fought back, refusing to budge from its socket despite careful cutting through the fused connections; its shape had been too badly warped when the conduit had failed. "Come on, you stupid-"

Under hir uniform, wiry muscles conditioned by years of mountaineering strained like bundles of cable, but bought nothing but a couple of millimetres' shift in the plug. S/he extended a claw, trying to use it like an organic crowbar, and managed to displace the housing just enough that the coupling popped free - right into hir eye. Nator swore colourfully, resisting the urge to punch the inside of the conduit in frustration. Turning up to sickbay as ordered later covered in bruises would just see hir signed off duty. Probably. Best not to test it.

Instead, s/he sighed. A solid night's sleep - a natural sleep, rather than the enforced slumber of a stasis pod - had helped in a way s/he found hard to quantify. S/he had a better handle on hirself, angry though s/he remained at the universe, and things just seemed a little more manageable. Not that s/he had any solid idea of how to manage hir current situation... but one thing at a time. Right?

One hand emerged into the corridor, patting around for hir coil spanner. Had s/he put it back in the kit? No... s/he was sure it had been right there. Dammit...

Re: Day 02 [1620 hrs.] Grindstone

Reply #1 – October 26, 2017, 02:31:49 AM

b][ Lt. Cmdr. Natalie Stark | Senior Officer Quarters | Deck 8 | Vector 01 | USS Theurgy ][/b] Attn: @Top Hat
[Show/Hide]

Quote

[ ...INCOMING MESSAGE... ]
Lieutenant Commander Stark,
While I would like to make a follow-up physical, this is just a report about one of the patients that will report to you today. She is Junior Lieutenant Nator 159, and the reason I write this message is that she left Sickbay without medical leave yesterday evening at 1915 hrs. I located her in her quarters by midnight, and after some discussion, she has agreed that if she is to return to active duty under your command, she will do it with constant supervision. Due to the piercing cranial trauma she suffered before the Niga Incident, the surgery she underwent was difficult, yet there is a chance she might make a full recovery, and this only because of her regenerative abilities as a Hermat.

The reason why she needs eyes on her at all times is because my scans have shown lingering problems with her memory retrieval processes, and that might affect her active duties, despite her assurances that she does not feel any lasting complications. The scans belies her claim, and therefore, her performance needs to be assessed by you a minimum of two days. On your word, I am prepared to grant her full medical leave, but only after her unimpeded performance on-duty has been verified.

I have attached an image showing the extent of her cranial trauma pre-surgery, which should allude to the seriousness of her injury, and the clear reason why she needs supervision. She might still pose a risk to both herself and the crew,, depending on what tasks she is set to preform. Furthermore, she is to report to sickbay after each shift for a medical scan. The patient have expressed discontent with this arrangement, so my recommendation is that you personally follow up on this matter, and enforce the conditions that have been set for her.

In hope to speak anew,
Doctor Lucan cin Nicander
Chief Medical Officer
USS Theurgy NX-79854
[ ... END MESSAGE ...]
ATTACHMENT: [Show/Hide]

Natalie sat at her desk, secluded away in her quarters after the mess that had occured on the bridge. She hadn't been able to leave right away -having taken her station, there was much to sort through in the aftermath. But once that was sorted out, she had retired there to check through the mass of messages she'd been ignoring since the morning. Including one from Dr. Nicader, regarding the health, both mental and physical, of one Lt. (jg) Nator 159, the second of two officers from Operations to be revived from stasis. To be fair, there had been a note about the other officer as well. She had scheduled a quick meal with the latter, Ens. Vereyn Kiiz, before he was scheduled to take his first shift back, on Transporter control duty.

That had been a quick, pleasant read, that merited an short note to the officer in question setting up the meal. And then she had moved on to read the second letter. She had just finished, holding the padd in one hand, and her mouth in the other, covering it to stiffel the gasp as she looked at the xray image Dr. Nicander had seen fit to include in his message. It was horrifying to see, but that horror and concern quickly bled into anger.

She set the PADD down and interlaced her fingers, squeezing her hands together tightly. "Thea," she called out, "Check the duty log for Lt. Nator 159. Display to my desktop. What has s/he been up to since the start of their shift?" What part of constant supervision...she thought as she read the read out on her screen. It seemed that the Hermat had swung by her office earlier, very, very briefly. Probably just long enough to be noted. During my chat with A'vura she concluded. With a quick flourish of her fingers, she shut the computer off, sending the monitor to recede back into the top of her desk, and blanking out the controls on the touch enabled surface.

Natalie tapped the PADD against the tabletop, working her jaw from side to side. "Thea," she addressed the ship again, having shed the habit of calling out to the 'computer' a long time ago. "Where is Lt. Nator 159 at this present time?"

"Junior Lieutenant Nator 159 is on deck 21, Vector 3, section 47 alpha." Thea's crisp voice called out in response.

"Bugger," Natalie muttered, rising to her feet and jerking her skirt into place. She snapped up the PADD, quick as could be and turned on her heel. She had hoped to relax some more but that wasn't happening. S/he was out there, unaccompanied. Natalie had no idea of Nator's little monitoring program, and even so, that wouldn't be sufficient in so much as Nat was concerned. Disgruntled now, she stalked right on out of her quarters, heading for the nearest transporter room.

[Corridors | Deck 21 | Vector 03 | USS Theurgy]

There was a loud clatter of metal hitting the deck and what sounded like a muffled yelp. Or maybe a growl. It was hard for Natalie to tell, but worry gripped her chest where moments before anger had simmered. It eased as she heard a colorful stream of foul language, and she paused at the bend in the corridor, watching the legs sticking out of the wall squirm about. She'd seen the listing of where all the Hermat had been during the day, and had cross-referenced this with the reported work logs back in the Operations center. There was no denying that Nator had been quite busy, working through various lingering work assignments. Can't argue that s/he isn't efficient. Just reckless. She fumed silently to herself watching as the Hermat's and seemed to snap out, padding around for something.

It wasn't hard for Natalie to realize what Nator was after. Just out of reach, the coil spanner sat, catching the light from above. Sighing under her breath, Natalie strode forward, legs swishing under hers skirt as she approached, bent, and in a fluid movement, fabric riding up a bit, swept the tool up of the floor and smacked it lightly into nators hand, without saying a word.

Re: Day 02 [1620 hrs.] Grindstone

Reply #2 – October 28, 2017, 06:39:16 PM

[ Lt JG Nator 159 | Corridors | Deck 21 | Vector 03 | USS Theurgy ] Attn: @Brutus

Hir hand swept back along the deck, as s/he reasoned that there was no way s/he'd left the spanner all the way over there. That meant it had to be back the other way. Right? Fucken thing... Nator was on the verge of making the effort to put back out of the bulkhead and just look for the tool with hir own eyes... but that seemed like far too great a length to do to when the coil spanner had to be right there.

Footsteps. Strides, really. Coming this way. Nator tucked hir legs closer to the outside surface of the bulkhead so as to make sure s/he was out of the way, while still patting around for that fucking spanner.

Then, the end of something metallic tapped hir knuckle. S/he turned hir hand over and felt the handle of what s/he'd have paid good money would have been a coil spanner. "Thanks," s/he said, hir voice reverberating strangely in the hard, enclosed space of the maintenance space. It cut out what little bass there was in hir voice, making hir sound like some old-school radio transmission on a too-small speaker.

S/he brought the coil spanner inside the conduit with hir, before realising that the footsteps failed to continue on. Was s/he in the way? Couldn't b-

Oh.

A fluid twist brought hir snaking out of the stripped conduit and to hir feet to regard hir new guest. S/he swept a gaze over the taller human's face... predictably, nothing; no recognition at all. Though her expression did seem less than pleased... she'd clearly come looking for hir. Which would logically lead to:

"Commander Stark."

Re: Day 02 [1620 hrs.] Grindstone

Reply #3 – November 14, 2017, 03:47:22 AM

b][ Lt. Cmdr. Natalie Stark | Corridors | Deck 21 | Vector 03 | USS Theurgy ][/b] Attn:
[Show/Hide]

In a different situation, Natalie might have been intrigued by the acoustical curiosity that played out before her as the Hermat offered hir gratitude. The muting affect on hir voice was interesting, perhaps even pleasant, and not at all something the dark haired officer gave a damn about. She didn't even acknowledge Nator's response, save for one sharp cough, which she covered with her right hand, before planting both of her hands on her hips, striking something of a stern pose. Wasted, of course, so long as the junior lieutenant remained buried in the access panel.

Now I wonder how long this'll take. One. Two. Three. Four... she got to '12' before there was a sudden scamper and then there was the slender, androgynous form of Nator 159, eye level with Natalie. The latter cocked an eyebrow up slowly, watching at the expressly schooled face before her, as the - well, not a woman, or a man, really - as the Hermat managed to state her name and rank. Now did you remember that, or was it just an educated guess? Natalie was left to wonder, trying to delve into the thoughts of the lieutenant. Unfortunately, Nat was not telepathic, and could not say for sure what thoughts Nator hid behind hir green eyes.

"Lieutenant Nator 159," Natalie replied, drawing out the Hermat's name, her hands still firmly on her skirt clad hips. She tapped her foot twice, giving into the urge, and then, "Report." One word. Channeling all her anger to leave her voice as cold as the Andorian ice planes. Just like Commander Hendricks would use when he was upset with an officer and wanted to hear just what they'd been up to. The habit worked for the older officer. Now filling his shoes, and lacking the other mans height, Natalie tried it out here and now. Would Nator remember how their old boss would do just the same thing? Or would s/he be clueless?

Re: Day 02 [1620 hrs.] Grindstone

Reply #4 – November 17, 2017, 09:06:26 PM

[ Lt JG Nator 159 | Corridors | Deck 21 | Vector 03 | USS Theurgy ] Attn: @Brutus

It didn't take a cross-cultural expert or trained Betazoid counsellor to spot that Stark (s/he assumed, given no correction had been forthcoming) was less than impressed. Nator had to admit that s/he had reason to be. S/he remembered one of hir many spats with... what was his name? Harold? Herrold, back at the Fleet yards in Sol. How 'malicious compliance' had boiled hir piss. It wouldn't take a great deal of mental gymnastics to interpret hir own actions right now to be the exact same thing.

"Lieutenant Nator 159. Report."

It was rare for non-Hermats to bother with the number, since the species was definitely in the minority for using numerators in their names at all. Drawn out like that, and being delivered the same way as the Chief s/he remembered would have - Still no face, dammit! - said everything that the four words given did not. S/he straightened, one hand falling back to hir side instead of wiping the smudge of graphite from the side of the bridge of hir nose thanks to the errant piece of conduit earlier.

S/he nodded before speaking. "This EPS junction is the last of five damaged ones on this branch of the network, but was unfortunately also the worst-damaged. I'm rebuilding it. This morning, I also repaired some damage to the environmental circuit for the lower shuttle bay, but mostly I've been performing system integrity checks."

There was a beat, as Nator considered that Stark would necessarily be in possession of Nicander's report on hir health. Pre-empting the commander's next question (or perhaps her original one), s/he glanced at the deckhead above. "Thea, please access internal sensor subroutine Nator-three."

[Lieutenant Nator's cardiovascular, digestive, endocrine, exocrine, lymphatic, muscular, nervous, renal, reproductive, respiratory and skeletal systems are all performing within projected norms according to the prognosis filed by Lieutenant Commander Nicander.]

"Perf-"

[S/he is, however, suffering mild dehydration.]

Nator frowned at the disembodied voice, before stooping to swipe a water bottle from the toolkit and taking a swift draught before tossing it back into the case. "There," s/he said, looking at Stark once more. "Clean bill of health."

I'm sure that this will one hundred percent assuage any concern and I will be left to go about my work with a nod and a clap on the back. Any second now... s/he thought to hirself, with a solid appreciation for what was far more likely to happen. Still, it wasn't too bad considering hir start at oh-six hundred, and the fact that s/he was still only halfway through the second half of hir double shift today.

Right?

Re: Day 02 [1620 hrs.] Grindstone

Reply #5 – December 11, 2017, 05:07:43 PM

[ Lt. Cmdr. Natalie Stark | Corridors | Deck 21 | Vector 03 | USS Theurgy ] Attn:
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It wasn't as if Natalie was going to argue that the Hermat was ineffective; far from it. The being standing before her was clearly good at their job, there was no denying that. What Nator was not good at, however, was following orders. As such, hir CO kept a stern face on her features: as stern as Nat was capable of managing, at any rate. Channel your inner Ives. That oaken, unshakeable belief that you are right, and the other person across from you needs to be able to tell that by a simple gaze. Of course, Natalie lacked both the height that Ives brought to bear in either of their forms, and the years of experience in command that lent the Chameliod a certain gravitas.

She made up for it with a burningly sincere mix of ire and concern.

What would impress the usually demure woman later was that the only reaction she had to Nator's request to Thea, and the subsequent out-bust from the ships AI was to cock an eyebrow upward on her forehead. No other look of surprise, or approval. Or disapproval for that mater, nor admiration. Just one, stoic eyebrow, borderline Vulcan in its simplicity. She waited as the Hermat took a drink of water from their bottle in the toolkit. Natalie wasn't about to dress the being down for taking a drink after being informed s/he was dehydrated by the computer; even if Natalie was sure there was a sense of 'screw you' cheekyness in Nator's actions.

A regular spitfire, she thought to herself and reflected on her conversations with Cmdr. Trent, up until now. She wondered, briefly, how he might handle the Hermat. With his careful tutelage in mind, Natalie addressed her subordinate.

"So you made a daemon to track your vitals. I've never doubted your skills with computer programming, Lieutenant." She did, however, extract a tricorder clipped to her belt at that point, and ran a quick scan on the Hermat. She was no expert, but she had basic field aid training, just like any Starfleet officer. And she'd uploaded a standard Hermat template to the tricorder to cross reference against, on the turbolift trip down. Natalie was nothing if not diligent. "And I see that your little program was accurate at that. You'll have to forgive me for double checking, After all, you've already disobeyed two orders today."

A ghost of a smile crossed her lips at the hint of confusion she saw. "You were ordered, Lieutenant," she continued, clipping her tricroder back onto her belt and removing her PADD to confirm, "to be under officer supervision during your shift, and to report to medical after the end of your shift. Now," She raised the PADD, pointing the edge of it towards the wayward junior officer like a knife. "You might argue that the program was sufficient observation. And perhaps of your basic vitals, you may even be correct. However, what happened if you forgot, or mixed up, certain parts while working. The concern, Nator 159," again, the numbers, just like Hendricks', "Is not something that could be monitored by a computer. Now, Don't think that I'm criticising your work, per say, There's every likely hood that it is just fine. However, because of the doctors note to me, I would be negligent in my duty, to this ship, this crew, and to you, if I did not have someone cross check all your work. Which could have been easily done if you had waited in the office for your ordered escort!."

She snapped her padd into her hand, sharply, as rounded on the Hermat, her blue eyes boring into the other Operations Officer, "Which brings us to your second act of insubordination. You were to report to medical at the end of your shift. Shift. Singular. As in one. You are already into a second work shift, Lieutenant. And I trust that the injury you suffered did not strip you of your ability to count to two, or track hours."

Natalie held the gaze, unflinching. She hated this, every second of it. She was sure in her gut that the Hermat's work was likely fine. Hir tactile control sufficient for the tasks s/he'd taken upon hirself, and the sheer scope of work completed was praise worthy. Save for the fact that s/he had been under orders for medical observation due to massive cranial damage

Re: Day 02 [1620 hrs.] Grindstone

Reply #6 – December 17, 2017, 03:18:28 PM

[Lt JG Nator 159 | Corridors | Deck 21 | Vector 03 | USS Theurgy ] Attn: @Brutus

Nator looked down at the end of the tricorder as Stark aimed it at hir, watching the little lights as they signalled the various delicate sensors activating in sequence in the cluster at the head. S/he submitted to it, though wondered what was supposed to be found that the ship's own sensor net might have missed. They were several orders of magnitude more capable, by mere dint of scale if nothing else. Perhaps it's just theatre? Proving a point?

Because, of course, there had been no suggestion at all that 'proving a point' could apply to hir own actions so far.

There were several counterarguments that s/he wanted to make as the Chief started in on her dress-down, but didn't quite know how to phrase any of them in order to avoid further stoking Stark's head of steam. "... After all, you've already disobeyed two orders today."

At that, s/he did take a breath to respond, a confused frown creasing hir brow, but Stark ran straight over any attempt s/he made to speak.

"You were ordered, Lieutenant, to be under officer supervision during your shift-" Yeah, that one I broke.. "- and to report to medical after the end of your shift."

"But-"

"Now, you might argue that the program was sufficient observation..."

A muscle in hir jaw twitched as the senior officer aimed the PADD at hir, but s/he maintained eye contact, mostly unblinking, throughout. The last thing s/he wanted now was to be accused of failing to pay attention and give Stark even more ammunition against hir. It definitely seemed pointless at this juncture to point out that there was a chunk of the sensor routine dedicated to beaming hir directly to sickbay in the event that any one of hir vitals changed significantly, or if any of hir neurochemical or cerebral ones changed outside the norm at all, with a message to Nicander and whoever was Officer of the Watch for sickbay at the time.

Not least because Stark was focusing on the effect hir injuries might have had on hir work and not that she seemed concerned that Nator wasn't looking after hirself. Which, if nothing else, made a nice change from most of hir other interactions since being taken back out of the stasis pod. Something about 'small mercies'.

"... Which brings us to your second act of insubordination. You were to report to medical at the end of your shift. Shift. Singular. As in one. You are already into a second work shift, Lieutenant. And I trust that the injury you suffered did not strip you of your ability to count to two, or track hours."

How to argue semantics without exacerbating this whole thing...

"No, sir, I can still count. I plead 'misunderstanding'; I was under the impression that a double was still one shift. Mine ends at twenty-two-hundred, and no later than twenty-two-oh-five I intended to be in Sickbay for my check up. I did not disobey that order... I just haven't carried it out yet."

Nator appreciated the direct stare Stark offered hir, though s/he did at least reflect that it wasn't borne so much out of consideration for hir own preferred etiquette but rather the anger she felt.

Keeping hir voice as carefully neutral as s/he could, the Hermat followed with, "Should I go there now, sir?"

If s/he had a say in it - Ha. - s/he'd tidy up here and mark the repair on the conduit as incomplete, then just head to Medical for hir all-clear before coming back to finish it. S/he wasn't interested in further risking being relieved of duty... but it didn't seem as if s/he could dissuade Stark from wasting another officer's time following hir round.

Arses.

Re: Day 02 [1620 hrs.] Grindstone

Reply #7 – December 23, 2017, 06:21:44 PM

[ Lt. Cmdr. Natalie Stark | Corridors | Deck 21 | Vector 03 | USS Theurgy ] Attn: @Top Hat
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Natalie had been on the receiving end of a lecture not all that dissimilar to the one she was issuing now, years ago, on the Mjonir her first starship posting. It had caused her to grind her teeth, blush, and swell with anger at the time, as she felt her superior officer was overstepping their bounds and being harsh simply because they could. While the situations were different, there was a mote of sympathy in her, directed at the poor Lieutenant. However, that sympathy carried only so far. She did have genuine concern about Nator's health.

Thankfully for the Hermat, what little Natalie had been able to deduce from her readings matched what the computer had blurted out when prompted to by the junior operations officer. And despite what she had said before, Natalie was fairly certain that Nator's work was up to par. She might still assign one of the even more junior techs that had transferred off of the Resolve to check through the work just to be safe - and to further acclimate them with Thea's systems. Must have Ms. Zeshyr attend to posting that assignment, she decided, giving her Assistant some work to do would be good as well.

As to the 'misunderstanding' that Nator claimed to be under....Natalie folded her arms under her breasts once more, slightly more ample than the Hermats bust, and fixed the being across from her in a steely gaze, as if peering into hir soul. Another trick she'd picked up from Hendricks.

"Mr. Nator," she finally began, with a soft sigh preceding the words, "I am willing to believe this misunderstanding, provided it does not happen again. " She tapped her foot, once, then corralled herself. "And while I am not at all pleased with some of your actions, they were taken in the best interests of the ship and her crew. Don't believe that I cannot pick up on that motivation. Its perhaps the one thing keeping you from being restricted to your quarters. I don't want to quash initiative, Mr. Nator, nor do I want to discourage an officer from going the extra mile in a time of need.

"However," she paused, gesturing with her padd again, given her tricorder had been tucked back away, "I need my officers to take care of themselves and follow orders. For their own safety, and the safety of the ship, and crew. On that I will not be flexible. There is no wiggle room there. You and your work are my responsibly., Understood?"

She held the gaze for a moment longer, then gave a small nod, most of her ire tamped down. "Now. Lets get this cleaned up, and I'll see you off to sickbay." She paused, before adding, "If you have questions...about the department, the state of the ship.....everything thats happened, now would be a good time to cover them, while we get you to your check up."

Re: Day 02 [1620 hrs.] Grindstone

Reply #8 – December 31, 2017, 07:03:54 PM

[ Lt JG Nator 159 | Corridors | Deck 21 | Vector 03 | USS Theurgy ] Attn: @Brutus

"... nor do I want to discourage an officer from going the extra mile in a time of need."

Somehow, the act of explaining that left the opposite impression. Nator reflected that a truth simply was, where a lie had to be asserted. S/he did at least know better than to voice that, though, and some small voice in hir head also reminded hir that Stark was no enemy. Picking a fight now would be counterproductive and only serve as a minor (and temporary) vent to the general malcontent s/he felt at the moment.

"However, I need my officers to take care of themselves-" What am I, half a year old? I am looking after myself, just fine! "-and follow orders..." Oh. Yeah, okay. "... Understood?"

Goodness, s/he could do with a good mug of tea right now.

"Understood, Commander."

Unflinching, Nator returned Stark's steady blue gaze. It seemed that they had reached a middle ground - one that hir stubbornness was arguing to shove a little further into hir favour, but better sense was winning out. S/he took a breath. Success! An interaction with another officer that hadn't come as close to relief (or blows) than hir conversation with Nicander. Though that was probably as much down to Stark's temperament as the CMO's.

Ah, this damnable amnesia. S/he'd been fixing machinery all morning, and could remember how to speak to people and conduct hirself. But remembering who any of them are? Ha!

"Now. Let's get this cleaned up, and I'll see you off to sickbay." Nator nodded. "If you have questions... about the department, state of the ship... everything that's happened, now would be a good time to cover them while we get you to your check up."

S/he nodded as s/he stooped to gather hir tools together and tidy up the gutted conduit before pinning the bulkhead panel back into place. "The ship is plain enough, I suppose... but the department is still a little hazy for me," the Hermat said honestly. "But who survived? Hendricks is obviously gone... I hope the rest of us aren't giving you too much trouble now you're in charge," s/he added with a touch of wry humour and a swift glance as s/he stood once more.

Follow your orders to work with the rest, a treacherous little voice piped up, and you might have learned some of their names already.

Re: Day 02 [1620 hrs.] Grindstone

Reply #9 – January 16, 2018, 08:49:46 PM

[ Lt. Cmdr. Natalie Stark | Corridors | Deck 21 | Vector 03 | USS Theurgy ] Attn:
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Tilting her head slightly to the side as Nator wrapped up the site, and they began their march to the nearest lift, Natalie worked through the staff. "We've had quite a lot of overhaul, actually," she began. In her mind, faces flashed in and out, forming for but brief moments before washing away into the mists of her mind. "We gained new faces, from the Harbinger and the Resolve. We lost quite a few as well." Her voice fell slightly as they rounded the corner.

"Most recently, Ens. Vereyn Kiiz has recovered from stasis and the injuries he suffered earlier in this...campaign." It sounded better than crusade, to Natalie's mind. "He will be returning to duty later this evening, taking on a shift in one of the transporter rooms, as befit his specialty." Mentally, she reminded herself that she needed to be ready for dinner with the Trill a scant few hours from then.

But from that bright point, naturally, the conversation lead to less pleasant ones, as they rode up the turbolift to the nearest sickbay on their current vector. "We've lost...quite a few. Crewman Sean Cameron. Ensign Yelchin. Petty Officers Kumal Koothrapali and Jacque Marquette." She let out a heavy sigh. Hearing those names, speaking them aloud was like opening new wounds. Never mind some of the more recent losses, from the attacks by the Devoted - both members whom had been hurt, from her department, and those from Operations that had converted to the cult and subsequently became radicalized.

"I suppose the whole department has been...troublesome, in small batches."

Re: Day 02 [1620 hrs.] Grindstone

Reply #10 – January 26, 2018, 07:18:18 PM

[ Lt JG Nator 159 | Corridors | Deck 21 | Vector 03 | USS Theurgy ] Attn: @Brutus

Hir hands paused momentarily as Stark spoke of their turnover. Well, that was what s/he told hirself, at any rate. How many of those turned over, as it were, had s/he called friends once? It seemed the height of disrespect not to be able to think of any of the faces of the people hir Chief mentioned. These were people that had perished so s/he hirself might slumber in peace. The names were familiar enough, but the people behind them were nowhere to be found in hir recollection.

S/he wasn't sure if s/he should allow hirself to feel the loss.

Instead, Nator padded quietly along next to the Chief, wiry jaw muscles tightening and relaxing by turns. When hir jaws bit down, s/he could hear a faint creaking transmitted through hir skull. I wonder if I could have saved any of them..

It was a fairly egomaniacal thing to think - that s/he might have been the sole difference between people living or dying. But s/he knew first hand what a boon a single extra pair of hands could be... and that's where the thought arose. Another wave of survivor guilt crashed over hir.

"I suppose the whole department has been... troublesome, in small batches."

Well, there was an odd choice of words. The Hermat stayed silent, with hir brow gently furrowed, while s/he decided whether or not to question the vocabulary. S/he almost hoped that it would be an innocent misunderstanding, some artefact of an inevitably-imperfect UT algorithm, but still.

There hadn't been much explicit in the logs s/he'd been able to access, but there had been a few mentions of mutineers. Did Stark mean to imply that there had been a few of such in Operations' own ranks? I gotta ask.

"I read all the logs I could last night, but I didn't get all of the picture..." The doors to the turbolift hissed closed behind them as they turned to face them and waited to be deposited a dozen decks up. "What exactly do you mean by 'troublesome'?"

Re: Day 02 [1620 hrs.] Grindstone

Reply #11 – January 26, 2018, 07:59:15 PM

[ Lt. Cmdr. Natalie Stark | Corridors | Deck 21 | Vector 03 | USS Theurgy ] Attn:
[Show/Hide]

There it was. The question that had been nagging at Natalie constantly since the shots were fired on the bridge, and Edena Rez was killed. Then the reports, the following morning, of a cult full of idiots attacking crew at random, all in the defense of their 'leader', the great Morali. What had culminated in an utterly disastrous attempt to take the ship by holding it hostage. Such loss of life. Such sheer stupidity.

Something of it must have shown on her face, Natalie realized, as she forced her features to settled once more. Less cold that they had appeared before, to be sure, but certainly not full of such visible sorrow and frustration.

Or so she hoped.

"Computer - halt turbolift." The ship obliged, the lift car slowing to a gentle stop, as Natalie turned to face Nator full on. She chewed on her lip for a moment, then forced herself to meet the Hermats gaze. Hir face a striking combination of masculine and feminine, Natalie noted idly as she summoned up the words to explain her offhand comment.

"This whole...our flight from the Sol system, the efforts and attempts to reveal the consipracy, all of it has been fraught with disaster and interference. Megalominiacle genetically engineered captains leading mutinies, parasites hiding among the crew, and Starfleet Command. and intervention from the future. " Never mind twisted deity wannabes she bitterly added.

"Part of an attempt to combat manipulation of the timestream resulted in junior Lt. Sarresh Morali joining the crew. And despite all the tragedy that he's suffered, or perhaps because of it, Mr. Morlai has saved this ship, on more than one occasion." She spared Nator the details therein. "However....

"Because of his success, and all that he has suffered to get there, Mr. Morali has developed a...following." She frowned, "No, it started as a following, but we should call it what it is - a Cult. A group of misguided officers and crew that began looking for something to put their faith and hope behind, and have since become mutated into an army of sycophants and martyrs, taking out their fury at the captain and our setbacks on the whole crew. All in the defense of the name of Lt. Morali." Not that she wanted to, she added, "Despite the mans utterly disdain for the cult."

Shaking her head, Natalie focused back in on Nator. "And sadly some of our department have fallen under that sway. I doubt there's a single department that hasn't been affected."

Re: Day 02 [1620 hrs.] Grindstone

Reply #12 – February 03, 2018, 06:35:44 PM

[ Lt JG Nator 159 | Turbolift | En Route to Sickbay | Vector 02 | USS Theurgy ] Attn: @Brutus

The brakes engaged, and the hum of the lift car's motors faded to the background rumble of Thea's reactors. A brief feeling of unease swept through Nator as Stark turned towards hir, prompting half a step back to avoid crowding each other in the confined space. The Hermat swept hir eyes over the Chief's face, taking in the expression whose best description would be 'troubled'.

There would have been a time fairly recently that I'd have coveted her job...

S/he kept quiet as Stark spoke, though s/he didn't bother schooling hir own expression as the words sank in. It was... a lot. Nator had elected to skip most of the ship's personal logs during hir catch-up session after leaving sickbay the other night, reasoning that getting the concrete facts of their situation would be more immediately useful. It seemed, however, that in so doing s/he had missed some incredible context to go with the data.

If this had been any other ship, or hell, if s/he'd been on one of the ships sent after them, s/he would have scarcely believed it. A cult! Honestly.

"...I doubt there's a single department that hasn't been affected," Stark finished.

A silence began to stretch as Nator pushed a wayward lock of hir fringe back into hir hair.

"I..." the hand clapped back to hir side as s/he dropped it, staring into space over the commander's shoulder. With some visible effort, Nator looked back at Stark again. "These are educated people, sir. They can't be so naive as to think someone some sort of messianic figure just because he's from the future! His presence would change the timeline he knew anyway, so the only benefit he has over anyone else is one of fancy gadgetry at best..."

Hir head began to ache, as s/he turned back towards the doors.

"I thought we outgrew superstition," Nator delivered, with some venom. S/he practically spat the last word. "As if we didn't have enough to deal with," s/he grumbled. "I suppose confining the ringleaders is out of the question... just martyr them in turn."

A manic little dark joke fought to be said, but s/he quashed it in time. I might disobey the odd order and my brain has yet to sort its life out, but at least I'm not deifying a normal person like some nutjob!

Re: Day 02 [1620 hrs.] Grindstone

Reply #13 – February 04, 2018, 02:05:17 AM

[ Lt. Cmdr. Natalie Stark | Corridors | Deck 21 | Vector 03 | USS Theurgy ] Attn: @Top Hat
[Show/Hide]

With the lift stopped, Natalie and Nator were going no where fast, which was likely for the best given the conversation. Rather better to have all this out in the open, before I drop hir off at sickbay, the Operations Chief concluded. She'd seen how Nator took a step back, putting physical space between them, and wondered if the Hermit had been attempting to put space between hirself and the revelations that Natalie had laid out for hir. Not like i'd blame hir in the slightest, Nat decided.

Collecting her own thoughts, Natalie addressed her subordinates words, "We are all of us rational beings, yes," she began slow. "However most of us have seen things that...push the boundaries of what is and isn't rational. Beings of immense power. While you or I might look at the situation and decide that Mr. Morali is just what he appears, others, who aren't directly there...who are terrified, every day, and have been, for months....might believe otherwise." Natalie wasn't keen on defending these beliefs. She didn't harbor them herself and she greatly disliked the way they handled themselves. The way they went on a murderous rampage you mean.

"Mass hysteria might explain it. But...no, I don't think simply capturing the ring leaders would solve the issue, Mr. Nator. As you pointed out, it would lead to martyrdom, which is the last thing we need. Besides," Natalie continued, her face falling further, "We're not sure who the 'leaders' are. Most of...well, at least some - of the people that hold faith in Mr. Morali are perfectly harmless. Like any relig - any group, " she corrected herself, "like any group, it is the radical fringe that are the issue.

"In regards to our department, so far, there have been only minor incidents that have been brought to my attention but for what it is worth...the ship feels like a powder keg. Anything could set someone off. I regret that this is what you've awoken to." Much of her anger over Lt. Nator had faded by this point, replaced with the dismay regarding the cult, and the ships current predicaments.

Re: Day 02 [1620 hrs.] Grindstone

Reply #14 – February 12, 2018, 11:20:36 PM

[ Lt Jg Nator 159 | Turbolift | En Route to Sickbay | Vector 02 | USS Theurgy ] Attn: @Brutus

What the fuck even is this ship any more.

The thought was intrusive, though s/he couldn't help but agree with it. Nator well-remembered one particular occasion when producing the blueprints for the dorsal section of Vector 03, and how hir team had to rearrange half the superstructure support frames because some enterprising young up-and-comer had managed to confuse liquid feed lines for load-bearing spars on the diagram and managed to hide their error from the rest of them until they were perilously close to final submission.

S/he fondly remembered when that had seemed like a problem.

"But the man actively rejects the cult. Surely that should be enough to dissolve it. Anything after that should count as mutiny..."

Not for the first time, the Hermat was struck by the feeling of being perpetually behind, always playing catch-up. This argument must have been played out already in Security, the ward room, the bridge... and now, again, in a halted lift stuck between decks in the bowels of the ship. S/he sighed before scrubbing hir eyes with the heels of hir palms.

A rebellious voice suggested that this cult was part of the reason Stark was insisting on having hir escorted through hir duties. If the ringleaders of the cult were uncertain, and the possibility of new interruptive action was not insignificant, it did make a certain amount of sense to have everyone go about in pairs or more. But still. S/he'd been in stasis while that whole thing got started; to have to submit to the same restrictions for a crime s/he'd been literally unable to commit (let alone being inclined towards it) rankled.

"I would hope you don't think I would succumb to such magical thinking..." s/he said, as s/he dropped hir arms again. "I grew out of cargo cults before my first birthday."

Re: Day 02 [1620 hrs.] Grindstone

Reply #15 – February 13, 2018, 03:31:56 AM

[ Lt. Cmdr. Natalie Stark | Corridors | Deck 21 | Vector 03 | USS Theurgy ] Attn: @Top Hat
[Show/Hide]

"Anyone that actively works against the chain of command, yes. That would be mutiny. Simply idolizing the man, that's not mutiny," Natalie corrected. It was a small distinction, but one that she felt needed to be made clear. One that she herself had a hard time remembering, when reading some of the reports of attacks. After all, the newly instilled Chief of Sciences had been attacked by them. Would she herself be next ? Natalie had certainly wondered that on more than one occasion that day. Especially when everything came to a head earlier in the afternoon. Nearly having the ship taken over by fanatics was not on her agenda for the day when she'd shared a quick breakfast and hangover cure with Lt. Tovarek.

Focusing back on the here and now, Natalie gave a small shrug of her shoulders as she held the Hermats gaze. "Unfortunately, may of these Devoted feel that Mr. Morali is being forced to disown them. Which couldn't be further from the truth. The man is hyper focused on his mission of fixing the time line as best he can. The cult is a distraction that gets in the way of that. For lack of a better way to put it, he has anything better to do than lead a cult." She was unaware of the words Morali had exchanged with the Captain days prior - if Ives had not been the best man, in Sarresh's opinion, to lead the mission, the Temporal Agent would have removed the Captain himself.

A laugh burst past her lips before she could help herself, perhaps for the first time since she'd gone to pick up the errant operations officer. Natalie shook her head from side to side. "No, Mr. Nator. For all yours sins today, I certainly do not expect you to be a member of the cult. You haven't been awake long enough to be brainwashed, and as far as I'm aware, you've never met Mr. Morali. Let alone come under his sway." She shook her head again, managing a small smile that faded fast, growing a bit more serious.

"If I were going to be concerned about you in regards to the cult, it would be for your safety. Your obvious lack of respect and outright incredulity related to them may very well put a target on your back, painted by what is left of the cult." They'd dealt a serious blow earlier in the day, with all that had happened on the bridge, and Morali's denouement, not to mention the numbers captured or killed during their attempted coupe. "Not that I think you have anything to worry about, per say. But all the same...." she let it hang there.

Re: Day 02 [1620 hrs.] Grindstone

Reply #16 – February 18, 2018, 06:25:14 PM

[ Lt JG Nator 159 | Turbolift | En Route to Sickbay | Vector 02 | USS Theurgy ] Attn: @Brutus

Well, there was a (pedantic) semantic debate to be had on whether or not 'believing that someone else should be in charge and wanting to sabotage the existing hierarchy to achieve that, but not actually doing it yet' constituted mutiny or not, in hir opinion. It wouldn't be useful, probably.

"But what sway could he have if he never tried nor wanted to start the cult? That's what I don't understand... bah," s/he threw hir hands up. "Thea, resume lift," s/he grumbled.

Around them, the hum of the motors picked up again and the running lights began their slow strobe once more. The Hermat turned to face the door again, glancing at Stark to show s/he was listening as the commander laid out the extent of her concerns between Nator and the cult of idiocy. S/he couldn't help the snort that escaped hir nose at what she said.

"Well, if they do try to convert me, we can have a polite philosophical debate on the subject of not being a fucking moron. And if they press the issue..." s/he shrugged. "Luck to them." Nator didn't intend to assault any of the crew for the mere crime of having lost hope, but s/he also wouldn't roll over and take whatever they dished out if/when s/he offended their brittle sensitivities. Perhaps admitting to that stance ahead of time was unwise, though.

I do hope that isn't a new personality trait thanks to this injury that's going to stick around... Deciding it might be better to cover the eventuality, s/he glanced at Stark again.

"I doubt it'll come up, but if it does; do you want the names of anyone who asks? It won't point out a ringleader but.."

Re: Day 02 [1620 hrs.] Grindstone

Reply #17 – February 23, 2018, 09:52:14 PM

[ Lt. Cmdr. Natalie Stark | Corridors | Deck 21 | Vector 03 | USS Theurgy ] Attn: @Top Hat
[Show/Hide]

There was a lot to process from what Nator said, and Natalie decided to let the Hermat get everything out of hir system before she really addressed any of it. Beyond polite noises and non verbal queues to show she was listening to her subordinate and following along with the conversation. And Nator raised quite a few valid points, as far as the Chief of Operations was concerned.

"The influence the man has is staggering, when one notes that he has no desire for any of it. Whats surprising, to me at least, is how problematic that is. If Lt. Morali had been taking a more active role in the way the cult operated - if he was trying to talk to them, to reason and calm them, reassuring them....giving them any kind of clear direction, then perhaps this would not be as bad as it is." She sighed, feeling the decks slipping past as she collected her thoughts and continued, explaining her conclusion.

"Unfortunately, because he gives no clear insight or direction, these misguided individiuals latch on to everything he does say, and interpret it to heir own goals. Goals which have become increasingly violent." The lift halted and Natalie held Nator's gaze, sizing the Hermat up.

Finally, she said to him, "Loath as I am to have anyone in our department have to report something like this, to be wary around their colleagues, i think it might be for the best, yes." It was not an easy offer to accept. "If they are non violent and do not pose a risk then I'll let them be. But unfortunately, this cult has steadily escalated the situation to the point that I cannot simply look the other way. Regardless of the morale issues it may cause." No, this didn't sit well with Natalie, not at all. but really, what other choice did the brunette have? If nothing else, the newly thawed Nator 159, and Ens. Kiiz, she realized, along with Lt. Zeshyr, were the most trustworthy members of her department, having all been elsewhere when Lt. Sarresh Morali joined the crew of the Theurgy.

And what a sad state of affairs that is, she thought bitterly, doing her best to keep that from her face.

"Is there anything else I can fill in for you, Mr. Nator?" Natalie offered. At this point she was far more tired, than angry, and it would be remiss of her to not offer to bring the officer up to speed. After all, despite hir issues with following orders, Nator was someone Natalie was going to have to trust going forward. Provided s/he kept to an actual schedule of visiting sickbay and gaining a clean bill of health. That's not too much to ask for, is it? Not really? For that, only time would tell.

Re: Day 02 [1620 hrs.] Grindstone

Reply #18 – February 26, 2018, 08:13:16 PM

[ Lt JG Nator 159 | Deck 11 | Vector 02 | USS Theurgy ] Attn: @Brutus

Nator had something of a ruthless streak. Once s/he decided something should be a certain way, s/he didn't much care for objections that people might make in the name of comfort or delicacy. When hir friend Hemar had broken hir legs after falling into a gorge back home (and the memory brought a second pang, along with the guilt s/he felt about Hemar, that s/he would likely never see Hermat again), s/he had browbeaten and bullied hir friends to keep up the punishing pace s/he set to get the injured young adult back to civilisation. Alas, the effort was in vain, but having done anything less would have left an even greater stain on hir conscience.

Morali had to go. Preferably, he should take his cult with him. Let them sort out their differences together, far away from the more productive portion of the crew.

Alas, that wasn't a decision s/he was likely to be allowed to make. A Hermat could dream.

"... I think it might be for the best, yes," Stark was saying, as the doors hissed aside to reveal one of the arterial corridors on the deck. "If they are non-violent and do not pose a risk then I'll let them be. But unfortunately, this cult has steadily escalated the situation to the point that I cannot simply look the other way. Regardless of the morale issues it may cause."

Perhaps we have something in common, after all, Nator considered as they exited the lift. "Very well, sir. For what it's worth, I'm pretty much suspicious of everyone after finding out what we're up against. How many of the agitators are infected?" s/he finished rhetorically. The question was moot, whether or not it could be answered at all; it didn't really matter. The agitators were agitating regardless of whether or not they harboured a parasite.

Stark's tone changed a little as she asked if s/he had any other questions. Nator glanced at hir Chief, a rare moment of sympathy crossing hir mind. "Not for now, Commander. You'll be the second to know as soon as I think of something, though. If you trust me to find my way from here, I'm sure you've better things to be doing..."

Belatedly, Nator realised that might sound as if s/he were hoping to be left alone to shirk hir orders again, but the words were out there now. No way to take them back, and hurriedly adjusting hir phrasing would just compound the problem. Grief, this is like a three-day hangover without the party first.

Re: Day 02 [1620 hrs.] Grindstone

Reply #19 – February 27, 2018, 02:57:08 AM

[ Lt. Cmdr. Natalie Stark | Corridors | Deck 21 | Vector 03 | USS Theurgy ] Attn: @Top Hat
[Show/Hide]

Blue eyes darted down the corridor, looking for anyone walking about. The immediate area out front seemed to be unoccupied. A tad odd, considering that Sickbay was one of the busier of the ships departments. But all the same, given the nature of their conversation, that was probably for the best. Empty as it was she had no issue stepping out of the alcove and moving a few paces, to allow the lift to resume it course to where ever else it had been called to.

Natalie chose to deal with Nator's faux pas first and foremost. "It is not a matter of trust, Lt. Nator. I do actually believe that you will go to Sickbay, and will present yourself to a doctor for a full work up before being discharged to your quarters where I trust you will do your due diligence and rest to the satisfaction of the medical staff." She drummed her fingers on her arms for a moment, that once again were tucked under her rather more prominent bust (compared to the Hermat's, at least). "But I would be remiss If i did not also stop in, and have a quick chat with whomever preforms the tests. Regardless," she moved subjects swiftly, perhaps fast enough to cause whiplash, as her tone dropped fast.

"I honestly do not know how many there are," she didn't quite whisper, but it was a close thing. Yes, it was rhetorical, but no, she didn't care. It was important. "So far, we have found one, Sonja Acreth, who came aboard from the USS Harbinger. But she's now...gone. I still don't know everything, even after reading the very terse reports from Dr. Nicander, PWO McMillian and Lt. Morali. Something dealing with a time portal? An anomalous breach...." She shook her head. "Time travel gives me a headache. The former Ens. Acreth is no longer available to study."

Clasping her hands behind her back, she let her head fall to one side, and amended, "There was also Captain Hawthorne, of Starbase 84. But our interactions with him were even more limited than with our former prisoner." Perhaps more information that Nator had expected Natalie to impart, but she felt it was her duty to ensure that her subordinate was aware. It might, at some point, save hir life. Or Natalie's for that matter.

Re: Day 02 [1620 hrs.] Grindstone

Reply #20 – March 03, 2018, 03:31:17 PM

[ Lt JG Nator 159 | Deck 11 | Vector 02 | USS Theurgy ] Attn: @Brutus

Were it not for the situation in which s/he found hirself, Nator might have found Stark's reaction amusing. She jumped and looked around like a spooked cartoon character, dropping her voice to avoid being overheard. It seemed like spy-story stuff to the Hermat.

That said, s/he still had to pull up to a halt when the Chief told hir about recent infected events. Not for the first time today, s/he felt a burgeoning headache beginning to form in the middle of hir skull. It was probably the utilitarian in hir that always clung to the naive hope for easy and convincing solutions, but just executing anyone found to be harbouring a parasite was an incredibly attractive proposition. Sapient rights be damned, right?

"So there are the mutinous and the infected. Have the Borg shown up yet?"

The tone was light enough, but Nator was in sore need of a rest already. That was one bonus of working a self-imposed double; little time to dwell on the situation and just throw hirself into work. Now s/he was almost to the point of weighing how feasible it would be to just return to stasis. Or try and walk back to Hermat.

Nator shook hir head and started moving again. Sickbay wasn't far. "Sorry, sir, something just clicked. 'Discharged to my quarters'? I still have to rebuild that EPS conduit and inspect the rest of that deck's circuit," s/he protested. For all the good this'll likely do. "I am hardly an invalid."

Re: Day 02 [1620 hrs.] Grindstone

Reply #21 – March 05, 2018, 04:22:51 AM

[ Lt. Cmdr. Natalie Stark | Corridors | Deck 21 | Vector 03 | USS Theurgy ] Attn: @Top Hat
[Show/Hide]

Cocking an eyebrow up on her forehead, Natalie deadpanned, "Yes actually, the Borg have come into play. Though I'm not entirely sure where exactly Six is at the moment." Seeing the look of confusion on Nator's face, Natalie took pity on hir and elaborated. "Ensign Six. Former Borg drone. We picked her up at Starbase 84 as a refuge aboard the USS Resolve, though she was originally from the Starbase itself. Turns out she helped uncover the infected presence there." Captain Hawthorne himself, at that, she silently recalled, followed by a sympathetic momentary pang for Ens. Hensahw, the adopted daughter that had been sent to try and reason with the infected shell that had been her father.

Her moment of amusement swiftly faded however, as she let her gaze slacken, listening to Nator's protests. On the one hand, it was in hir best interest to go get some rest- at least in Natalie's opinion. On the other hand, she could respect the work ethic and desire to not leave a task unfinished. Even if that same work ethic had resulted in this whole confrontation to begin with. Nator's drive to duty at the potential expense of hir own health.

"I admire your drive and dedication to duty, Lt.," she finally began, resisting the urge to tuck her arms up under her impressive bosom again. Natalie didn't want to present as on the defensive, all thins considered. That wasn't going to help anyone. "However you are supposed to be on medically ordered observation while working. You have worked far longer than anyone just out of sickbay for the kind of brain trauma you have received. That kind of strain on the nervous system could have unexpected and serious impact, so shortly after being defrosted. I do not think that has happened to you yet." She added, wagging a finger at her junior officer.

"But I want to be sure of that," she continued, "and so you will have the evaluation. And after...."She paused, wondering what all it would take to find a suitable compromise. She alighted upon one swiftly enough, remembering a bit of the advice that she had received from Cmdr. Trent, earlier that morning. "After that, you may accompany one of the newer techs from the Resolve and you will oversee their repair efforts, as part of our departments ongoing integration efforts. And upon completion you will return to your quarters for mandatory test.We need to train our new colleagues on the operational procedures of a Federation Dreadnaught. What you will not do, is pick up those tools again tonight and fix the issue itself."

"Think of it this way, Mr. Nator," Natalie said as she caught the Hermats gaze, smirking slightly. "With our numbers as low as they are, and given the new influx of personnel available to the department, it falls onto the shoulders of the more senior members of the Department to mentor the new arrivals. And that means you, Lieutenant. They can't learn if you do it all for them."

Re: Day 02 [1620 hrs.] Grindstone

Reply #22 – March 13, 2018, 12:55:16 PM

[ Lt JG Nator 159 | Deck 11 | Vector 02 | USS Theurgy ] Attn: @Brutus

"Ensign Si-" You know what? I am not going to ask. S/he was forcibly reminded of a maxim one of hir tutors used to parrot in hir childhood - the image of the grizzled veteran Hermat well-used to presenting a strong front to a room of boisterous and often-violent children swimming to the fore - 'The map is not the territory'. S/he could have read every single log in Thea's banks last night and s/he still wouldn't have been prepared for the reality of living in their aftermath.

"I admire your drive and dedication to duty, Lieutenant..."

Nator didn't even try and suppress the sigh of pure exasperation that escaped hir at the Commander's tone, coming to a stop in the corridor once again. Other than that, though, s/he stood in resolute silence and perfectly blank expression through the rest of Stark's re-framing of the conditions around hir release. A small part of Nator's mind reasoned that she wasn't being patronising, and was merely doing the proper leadership thing and finding a way for both sides to come to a conclusion that each found favourable.

The rest of hir wanted to spit.

"I am sure," s/he started, hir voice cold, "that the crew of the Resolve had their own standard-pattern equipment to work with, and so wouldn't need someone to hold their hands through repairing ours. It's all the same stuff; we just have more of it. If our numbers are so low, covering the maximum amount of ground should surely be preferable, no? They shouldn't have passed their training if they were unable to adapt to a different deck layout.

"As for my health... I am not some weakling bino who would take months to repair an injury a Hermat could clear in days or weeks. My wound was severe - on that we agree - and I am monitoring it according to my memory of how I was before, the checkup to which we are going right now, as well as the impartial observation of Thea itself. If you doubt the ship's capabilities, I would ask that you kindly stop taking it out on me."

It seemed s/he hadn't quite outgrown hir xenophobia, as s/he liked to believe, but Nator was also quite tired of going in circles. S/he felt that s/he would do anyone else the credit of believing what they said (in honesty!) about their own body, but s/he was seemingly not to be trusted. Somewhat disjointedly to the current situation, Nator found hirself wondering if hir holodeck time had continued to accrue while s/he was in stasis; s/he dearly wanted to go and run through some forest or canyon until s/he couldn't feel a thing but hir blood singing through hir veins and the lactic ache in hir muscles. Just to forget.

Lacking anything else to say in the moment, s/he turned on hir heel and continued towards Sickbay.

Re: Day 02 [1620 hrs.] Grindstone

Reply #23 – March 18, 2018, 07:28:37 PM

[ Lt. Cmdr. Natalie Stark | Corridors | Deck 21 | Vector 03 | USS Theurgy ] Attn: @Top Hat
[Show/Hide]

Oh, and it had seemed we were doing so well, Natalie thought with a sense of resigned sarcasm. The words didn't break past her lips however tempted she might be to utter them aloud. S/he was quite frustrating, and Natalie didn't remember her past encounters with the Hermat being this exasperating. Then again, the circumstances were unlike any other the two had shared to this point. She made a mental note to check through the late Cmdr. Hendrick's logs to see if they had made any notes or pointers on the exasperating Lt. jg Nator 159.

Catching up to Nator, she tried to keep the fury out of her voice as she fell in step with the lanky alien officer. "I was trying to find a way to let you salve some of your pride lieutenant, and come to a reasonable compromise because whether you want to admit it or not you have just been through a traumatic experience that would have left a lesser being very much dead. And quite frankly i have lost too many of my people already to put up with someone freshly thawed pushing themselves beyond what I think is a sensible point. Because in case you forgot, Lieutenant you are my responsibility. "

Though tempted to reach out and poke the Hermat in hir chest to punctuate her own words, Natalie didn't cross that line. The anger that had bleed away earlier, as she had unburdened some of the woes she'd been dealing with, had come rushing back. And so yes, she took a bit of that anger back out on Nator. "And further more, Lieutenant, what you must also bear in mind is that the crew of the Resolve have just spent the last 3 years on their own, behind enemy lines. They return to Federation space after all that time, only to be stuck in with us, on the run again. They are keyed up, on edge, watching the ship that saved their lives succumb to - or seemingly so - a rabid cult that worship a fellow officer as a deity, after having had a Federation Task force try to turn them to stardust.

"Perhaps, just perhaps, in such a situation, they might need a guiding hand? Perhaps assigning you to keep watch over one of them for a bit was just as much an attempt to help them adjust as it was to find away for you to finish your work without diminishing your sense of self worth. To make use of some of the other skills that an officer of your rank should put into practice from time to time, in mentoring a troubled subordinate, and providing a sense of security and foundation for them. Did any of that cross your mind, Lieutenant, or was it simply just 'why does the damn human think i'm incapable of doing my job?'"

It was perhaps quite fortunate no one else was in the corridor for that, something that in hindsight would have been better done in a soundproof room, as Natalie kept her pace up, continuing on towards the Sickbay in foul temper.

Re: Day 02 [1620 hrs.] Grindstone

Reply #24 – March 26, 2018, 06:21:04 PM

[ Lt JG Nator 159 | Deck 11 | Vector 02 | Fun and Wonder on the way to Sickbay | USS Theurgy ] Attn: @Brutus

A mirthless snort escaped the Hermat at Stark's trailing question. They were both venting steam, now, and there was a real danger of this descending into a proper argument after which s/he could find hirself as firmly sidelined as s/he feared s/he might. Hir hands had closed into fists at hir sides to stop hir claws from extending unwarranted, but s/he didn't slow hir pace this time.

"No, Commander, it wasn't simply that. It was coloured by 'why does the damn human think we're all incompetent?' How long have the Resolve crew had to adjust to their mad compatriots? However long it is, it's longer than I have. I maintain; if they feel put upon by the stresses of the situation they should walk home. I will be clearing my duties as normal. So should they. Besides all that, what sort of message would they receive? 'Here is a brain-damaged junior officer still peeling icicles from hir nose to come and make sure you can hold a spanner the right way round, you adorable bunch of cretins'. They're professionals, and as a fellow professional, I would expect them to damn well act like it.

"If you want to find a way to let me work without damaging my self-esteem, let me work."

Nator took half a step to the side as s/he strode on, to allow a passing blue-shirted crewman by. They weren't on one of the larger arterial corridors on the deck, so there weren't many people around, but the closer they came to sickbay the more there'd be.

"Or submit it in writing and call it an order. I'm sure I'll cope."

It was a dick move; tantamount to a challenge. 'Are you going to cave and shout "respect my authority!"?' S/he'd even dealt with similar back in Sol, when some of the egos in the drafting room had baulked at the thought of being subordinate to someone half (or less!) their biological age. Not that this was an ego problem, of course. Totally different. S/he was in the right, for one thing.

At any rate, they were getting close to the infirmary now. Much longer and they'd be continuing this... robust debate with an audience.