Fandom Star Trek: Vigilance (IC)

[Error 420]

Jack was listening attentively to the briefing Polito was given, having obviously completely spaced out on reading any of the emails she was sent about the mission previously, and hoping to not be too far behind the pack. She walked next to Kimberly, feeling a sort of comfort with her over the other crew members. His thoughts on the matter were interrupted by a young Vokkan female pretty much shooting out of the lift. As she introduced herself, Jack's superior senses detected the faint odour of alcohol and her eyebrow went up so sharply that its edge nearly left her forehead. "Oh that's a cute alien" she said, quietly, not realizing she had done so, until after it had left her mouth. Her embarrassment over saying that and her earnest hope that it was too quiet for anyone to hear was still visibly trumped by her surprise and fascination, leaving her wide-eyed and agape like an antelope in the headlights. Something about Jack's latent alchohol addiction mixed with the Vokkan's easy-on-the-eyes look made Jack completely stop.

 

[Epiphany]

Kimberly glanced over at the Vulcan and gave him an approving nod. "You appear to be well briefed. I was assigned to the USS Galaxy until yesterday when I just received my transfer orders, which didn't include any real details beyond the class of ship I'd be serving on. Thank you for filling me in."

"The Kraekira System?" Kimberly paused for half a step and, again, a keen eye might have noticed a steady pulsing light flickering beneath her uniform shirt. "Ah. My people have never visited it, nor met a Kraekiran Raven before. What a delightful opportunity!"

Then she tilted her head and regarded Robert Polito, carefully gauging his by-the-book remarks. Subterfuge and subtlety weren't exactly Galorian specialties but they'd had a century to improve themselves since Mudd and Kirk visited their world. Years spent among biologicals meant she was very familiar with people saying one thing but meaning another. "That's part of what Starfleet is founded to do, Lieutenant," she said to Polito at last, slowly choosing her words. "We learn about new cultures. Even ones with incomprehensible morals or deplorable practices. Most species refuse to try understanding something foreign, especially something considered immoral within their native cultural context. Starfleet doesn't. And it sets an example for this entire quadrant."

She finished with another smile before adding "It makes me proud to be where I am."

When Savir added his own assessment, Kimberly nodded agreeably enough as she studied Polito for how he'd react to such comments. All parts of a puzzle she still had to put together.

The arrival of Varra was a welcome surprise, seeing another non-human officer from a species she didn't recognize. "You're just in time, Ensign. Lieutenant Kimberly. This is Lieutenant Savir. Ensign Keiper. And our guide and excellent host is Lieutenant Polito." Kimberly ended with a beckoning gesture to Robert, yielding the floor to him given he was senior here.

Jack's remark was as unpolitic as it was unsurprising, given what had already come out of her mouth in the course of their brief acquaintance. Kimberly smirked, allowing the display given they weren't necessarily in the same chain of command anyway...at least not yet. Then she tilted her head, studied Varra for a moment before visibly shrugging and saying "An accurate remark, Ensign, if perhaps poorly timed."

 

[Darkraven]

Just metres away from Voyager's docking port, another of the secondary bridge crew had caught up with them. Ensign Varra Orc-Kel, a rather stunning woman of the Vokkan, Junior Lieutenant Robert Polito couldn't help but to notice. But he was quick to pull back his feelings - he already had a girlfriend, one who had been nagging at him to get out of Starfleet ASAP. The fact that she was in a disheveled mess did little to stifle her beauty. With latent attractions out of the way, Robert had only worry on his mind now. What would the Captain and First Officer think?

"Ensign Varra reporting in," she said as they went through an airlock. The outer doors closed and the inner doors opened as it cycled.

"Oh, that's a cute alien," Ensign Jack Keiper said beside him. Robert couldn't help but to roll his eyes.

[Tele-Empathic Reveal (Junior Lieutenant Robert Polito): We're doomed.]

"An accurate remark, Ensign, if perhaps poorly timed," Junior Lieutenant Kimberly said, and Robert appreciated it. It saved him the trouble.

"Thank you," he said. "At east, Ensign Varra Orc-Kel. I'm not the one you'd need to worry about. Now where was I?"

The group went through the docking port of the Vigilance, the change from Cardassian bronze and mosaic yellow and green to Starfleet white, silver and grey stark was a complete turn-around. But, already, there was something off about the ship. The lights were not as bright as it was usually set to, and there were two security officers, one a male Denobulan ensign and another a female Human crewman with bronze skin, were posted at the turbolift with phaser rifles. They stood at attention when the group passed by.

"Good to see you, sir," the crewman said. Robert nodded to her. The crewman then turned to the rest with as wide a smile as she could possibly manage. "Welcome to the USS Vigilance, sirs."

[Tele-Empathic Reveal (Crewman Nor Hamid): Hope they'll be fine, unlike the others.]

"Right. We're close to the bridge so I'll just cut the long story short. Our captain was once an officer in the Kraekiran Voidfleet for more than a century, rose to an Admiral there before he resigned. He's done some terrible things. Read up on it if you want. It's actually all in the ship's database," he said as the entered the turbo lift. Even the turbo lift lights were dimmed. "But that's not the main point, not for now anyway. I have a few tips for you guys, just so you don't end up like me."

"Deck one," Robert interrupted himself by ordering the turbo lift. "Don't ask any unnecessary questions about his past, or his species. Don't presume to try to get on his good side unless he initiates it. Just watch for his mood - I heard a lot of different things about him. I might have been unlucky, but... I don't know." He stared intensely at the panel indicating the deck they were on. Too fast. "Computer, halt turbolift!"

[Tele-Empathic Reveal (Junior Lieutenant Robert Polito): *Bursts of strong feelings surged through Robert Polito's mind: anger, sadness, helplessness, nervousness* Not deck one... It's going to be a long day. I don't know why I don't just suggest to the First Officer to just hang a punchbag over the tactical station - should I just give it all up to stay in my quarters?]

"What else... What else?" Robert was practically breaking out in cold sweat, resisting the urge to bite his fingernails. He'd settled with putting his hand over his mouth instead. Panic set in as it always did. "Just... Watch for the First Officer too. Any last questions before we hit the top deck?"

Epiphany Error 420 MechanicalSnake Inactive User 002

 

[RPLongAndProsper]

Taris Noor stood in front of the Captain's rooms, looking smart in ids spotless and perfectly ironed uniform, and hypnotized the turbolift. Ids lithe body was agitated, poised to move as soon as the cabin door opened. Id was marginally nervous for having missed the meeting at Quark's, but able to find sufficient consolation in the fact that Junior Lieutenant Polito was not of higher rank than idself and hopefully too busy with the others to have reported idre to the ship's authorities.

In all honesty, Taris did not regret that minor trespass too much. Ids belated arrival had been caused by an unforgettable experience involving an adventurous Betazoid pair, who could do incredible things with their hands. It was doubtful that id would enjoy such an enriching evening AND morning in the months, perhaps years to come, and while id was ready to fill ids life with Starfleet related responsibilities once again, the break had been much needed. Ah, those empathic species... They simply knew best what to do.

Having lost all track of time, Taris had been lucky to find a message with clear instructions from Lieutenant Polito on ids PADD, regarding the planned briefing with their Captain. Rather than trying to catch up with the group awkwardly, id had opted to go directly to the ship and make certain ids luggage had been transported in perfect order. Now, id was anxious to get started. The light on the turbolift was on, signaling the cabin was moving, and then it changed color, but the sliding door remained closed. Taris frowned, looking around until id spotted a crewman rushing past.

“Excuse me, is it possible that the lift is out of order?”

The individual, a human ensign, stopped to check out the panel. “It was working just fine a few minutes ago.”

 

[Darkraven]

The bridge was darker than it normally would be. The blinking lights and alarm indicated that it was on red alert.

"Ensign Sanders! What the hell are you doing!?" a voice boomed from across the bridge. It belonged to Commander Mercer Bradfield.

"I - I was just-" the ensign, supposed to be normally filled with bravado, stumbled in his words. He looks back and forth between Junior Lieutenant Taris Noor to his First Officer, helpless.

"We are in a god-damned combat simulation right now!" Commander Mercer bellowed, stomping over to Ensign Sanders, briefly casting a death gaze at Junior Lieutenant Taris Noor. "You were supposed to act in this make-believe as if we are in a real combat situation! Do you waltz around talking about turbo lifts in a life-and-death situation?"

"No, I-" the ensign tried to speak again, but was cut off abruptly by the First Officer.

"NO! YOU ARE NOT SUPPOSED TO WALTZ AROUND THE BRIDGE LIKE YOU'RE IN RISA!" The Commander screamed into the face of the hapless bridge ensign. It'd left the originally starry-eyed young officer shaking and on the verge of tears. Before Ensign Sanders could do or say anything else, Commander Mercer Bradfield seized him by the arm and began dragging him towards his station.

"I'm sorry-" The low-ranker managed to squeak an apology.

"You should be, now go back to your station before I make you the ship's bellhop, since you're so fond of turbo lifts!" The Commander scolded the ensign further, his face a wretched image of fury. Then he turned his glare on the new arrival, Junior Lieutenant Taris Noor. He came up to the J'nnai, pressing his face close to his. "You have just arrived and already, the ship and crew's efficiency has begun to deteriorate. Do you have any pitiful excuses for your behaviour?"

Before Mercer would hear any 'pitiful excuses', he turned to the bridge. "Computer, end the bloody simulation. We're going to do this from the top! The next bastard to step even a millimetre out of line will be scrubbing plasma conduits for the rest of his existence. Someone cut that racket!"

"Cancel red alert," Lieutenant Ma'Juk from the far end said. The bridge returned to normal, though it remained darker than usual.

"Well? Don't stare at me like an idiot," The Commander turned back to Junior Lieutenant Taris Noor.

 

[MechanicalSnake]

Savir completely ignored the flirtations and childish remarks passed between the other officers, because his attention was unweveringly focused on Polito. Being privy to the Lieutenant's emotions was not unlike watching an overheated warp core seconds before explosion. The man was showing every sign of a rapidly progressing panic attack and Savir was genuinely worried about his ability to serve, especially if he was stationed on the Bridge, in close vicinity to the source - or sources of his intense discomfort.

"Thank you sir," he nodded politely, as it had become obvious that Polito was indeed trying to warn them about his superior officers, which seemed most unusual. "I will peruse the ship's database at the closest possible opportunity." He promised himself to do just that, because all the tension made him genuinely intrigued. Moreover, it was a part of his job to be informed about all the factors that could negatively influence life on the ship, and this issue kept looking more and more serious. A fact that was undisputably confirmed when the Lieutenant stopped the turbolift. Experience accumulated during the last few years of service told Savir that nobody stopped the turbolift unless they wanted to discuss a matter of life or death, break up with their significant other or engage in coitus.

Since Polito gave them room for questions as well as a valid reason for concern, Savir felt entitled to adress this concern for the benefit of himself AND others. He wouldn´t have done so if his suspicions were based solely on the information he had gained through his unique abilities, but as it was... "I do have a question," he said boldly. "Has there been a breach of protocol by the commanding officers during the time of your service? Any cases of unwarranted penalty or abuse of subordinate officers? Practises not approved by Starfleet? Violation of Starfleet orders and regulations?" After a pregnant pause, he looked the Lieutenant straight in the eye and added: "Also, with all due respect, would you like a mild sedative?"

 

[RPLongAndProsper]

Taris was not sure what, if anything, id expected from the meeting with Captain Ke'varr, but it certainly wasn't this. In one moment, it was peacefully waiting for ids fellow officers and in the next, the entire deck turned into Hell on wheels. Since the noisemaker appeared to be mostly human, Taris could only assume he had the pleasure of meeting Commander Mercer Bradfield, without being formally introduced.

The poor Ensign, who had just wanted to be helpful, looked like he was about to start crying any moment and a small part of Taris felt like joining him. However, id forced idself to man up and didn't flinch when Bradfield stared idre down like a beetle he wanted to crush under his boot. The unpleasant proximity of the Commander's face provided Taris with the unique opportunity of studying Borg implants in more detail than id had ever wanted to. The Lieutenant caught idself idly wondering if the man's voice was also enhanced somehow, or if the power to tear down walls by yelling was a natural ability.

"I was..." id started coming up with a pitiful excuse, but the Commander lost interest in what id had to say in favor of yelling at the rest of the deck. Taris let out a deep sigh; if id had joined the group in time, this wouldn't have happened. It was downright crazy anyway. Who in the Universe runs a battle simulation while docked at a space station, when new officers are supposed to be boarding? Probably someone whose sole joy in life was running battle simulations. Id sighed again, patiently waiting for the Commander to come back and insult id again. This felt like the Academy all over again.

"I was summoned for a briefing with the Captain," Taris explained, relieved that id was allowed to finish the sentence this time. Id was holding ids PADD like a shield, ready to show the message from Polito as a proof. "Unfortunately, I was unaware of the ongoing simulation. I was waiting for the rest of my group, when I became reasonably concerned that they might be stuck in the turbolift..." Taris shifted his eyes towards the turbolift, which was still showing the "occupied" sign, without actually moving between floors, and needlessly pointed at its controls.

 

[Inactive User 002]

Varra noticed the Vulcan’s eye brow shoot up so far she couldn’t see it. Having met a few Vulcans in her time Varra knew he wasn’t impressed by her. To be honest Varra couldn’t blame him with her being in the state that she was. Varra was just glad that she couldn’t get bed hair like so many other species. However Varra’s analysis of the Vulcan was interrupted when she heard someone say she was cute. Turning her head Varra saw a red head human woman. A bit surprised Varra was unsure what to do. Deciding to be polite Varra smiled back at the woman but, before she could say something Varra heard someone else speak up. She was partly relieved as she was introduced to everyone and that the person she was supposed to meet was here. Though at hearing the poorly timed remark Varra couldn’t help but feel and look a little ashamed tilting her head slightly down.

When Polito said she could be at ease she was relieved that he didn’t chew her out. Hearing Polito talk Varra only paid a little bit of attention following him to the turbo lift that would take them to the bridge. Varra didn’t take in much of what Polito said about the captain as she wanted to makeup her own mind. Looking around Varra looked at Jack who had earlier called her cute. She wasn’t sure why Jack said but she wanted to be polite back whispering, “cute hair”. Abruptly the turbo lift stopped and Varra was getting annoyed by the constant advice Polito was giving. Rubbing her temples her head was practically throbbing. Though at least she had remembered at bit more about what happened last night. Remembering the Ferengi pouring her more drinks assuring Varra that a little bit more wouldn’t hurt. In hindsight he was probably just trying recoupe the latinum she had won. Hearing the Vulcan offer a mild sedative to Polito she couldn’t help the next few words that fell out of her mouth, “yes please I would love a sedative”.

 

[Darkraven]

"Has there been a breach of protocol by the commanding officers during the time of your service? Any cases of unwarranted penalty or abuse of subordinate officers? Practises not approved by Starfleet? Violation of Starfleet orders and regulations?" Junior Lieutenant had asked further. When Junior Lieutenant Robert Polito had requested for questions, he didn't think that he would get any, much less so many. Then the last one hit him: "Also, with all due respect, would you like a mild sedative?"

“Yes, please. I would love a sedative,” Ensign Varra joked. Robert Polito couldn't enjoy it the way he would have had this been anywhere else.

"N-no," Robert said, clutching a temple. "Doctor Jack Kwan has already prescribed a range of them to me."

"Look, as much as I want to be able to say it, there weren't any violations of regulations, or standard operating procedures," he went on, then stopped, at first at a loss for words. "The First Officer, Commander Mercer Bradfield - don't forget his name - he- well, he knows when to pull back, and how to hurt without leaving a mark, or even pulling a punch. Captain Ke'varr, on the other hand... Well, it's just... The way he looks at you - like, like, he's about to devour you whole. The way he towers over you, and he'd loom over you and- I happened to ask the wrong questions and... Let's just say you don't want to see him mad. You don't want to get stuck in the same room as him when he's mad."

"But if I have to choose between the two of them, I'd go with Captain Ke'varr. At least he won't scream into your face 24/7."

With that, he looked at his PADD, and his eyes widened with fear. "Computer, resume turbolift!"

---

"I was summoned for a briefing with the Captain," Junior Lieutenant Taris Noor explained, while he was holding up his PADD. "Unfortunately, I was unaware of the ongoing simulation. I was waiting for the rest of my group, when I became reasonably concerned that they might be stuck in the turbolift..."

"So not only are you behaving like an idiot - you ARE one," Commander Mercer Bradfield insulted the junior officer even further. The First Officer eyed Taris' PADD and then returned his hateful gaze back to his eyes. "And it seems that you have difficult in even following SIMPLE orders. You were supposed to meet Junior Lieutenant Robert Polito on Deep Space Nine, not dilly-dally here. And that turbo lift? It took just a single glance at the panel, and I can tell that it was just halted, not malfunctioning."

The Commander pressed himself closer to the J'nnai. "You couldn't notice the obvious, follow simple orders and tell the status of a turbo lift. Makes me wonder why you're aboard this ship, or even in Starfleet in the first place." And then he promptly stuck a finger into his shoulder, his voice constricting into the most spiteful, venomous hiss. "Don't expect to stay on the secondary bridge crew for long - I don't know what the Captain saw in you. He must have tapped the wrong button on his computer, late on a blood wine night. Expect extra duty shifts, menial labour and a formal reprimand - that is, if you don't run all the way across the quadrant crying for your mother first."

"Now stay in your corner and don't stray from it until the Captain calls for you," the Commander turned around and was on his way to the centre of the bridge when he stopped and turned back to face the J'nnai again with a rather devious smile. "Right. You have no family to go back to. I forgot. My apologies, Junior Lieutenant."

Despite the crude humour that Commander Mercer Bradfield had conjured, someone managed to find it funny and sniggered across the bridge. It had come from a crewman at the back.

MechanicalSnake Epiphany Inactive User 002 RPLongAndProsper

 

[RPLongAndProsper]

Surprisingly enough, Lieutenant Taris Noor didn't want to cry in the slightest, if only because id was too deep in shock to show any kind of reaction. Id had been wrong before - this was not like the Academy at all. There had been teachers who liked to give students a harsh lesson or two while, sure, and some had their own ideas about how to shape a young mind, but none of them had been inherently evil. During ids first year, Taris had shared a room with a human male, who enjoyed watching ancient movies about the three World Wars on Earth, due to which id had been forced to see a couple of those films. Id recalled that they often featured senior officers mentally and physically torturing common soldiers, a practise that - along with other inhumane behavioral patterns - should have been eradicated on Earth centuries ago.

Somehow, they managed to survive in Commander Bradfield. And that tickled the stubbornly dominant male part of Taris in the most unpleasant way. Visualising a scene from one of those movies, a black and white melodrama that had seemed to idre like a two-hour long lobotomy back then, Taris almost snapped back with "should I go and clean the toilets with my toothbrush"? Such an answer would have been a one way ticked out of the ship, though, and Taris didn't want that, not after all the years of believing in the ideals of Starfleet, where even individuals like idre were accepted with open arms and could make a life for themselves. Where id could make contact with a limitless number of worlds and help others feel equally welcome, a part of something greater than one planet, or even one gallaxy.

"Understood, sir," id said instead, even managing to keep the rebellious streak out of his voice, and planted idself firmly at the door. Id could take a few weeks of abuse from Bradfield, restrict communication to bare minimum. It could hardly be worse than dealing with the Klingon chief, who´d threatened idre with the infamous mind sifter. Perhaps this was even well-deserved, after all, nobody who wasn't Captain Kirk could make a blunder because of having prolonged sex with a couple of gifted aliens and get away with it. Taris almost managed to let it slide, when the final remark came, effectively rendering him speechless.

It wasn't even that id found mentioning ids family, or lack there of, particularly painful - that ship had sailed. But the fact that a commanding officer took such a great care to read personal files only to publicly reveal unpleasant details from someone's private life, and that he had taught others to laugh at such disgraceful behavior, was simply too much to even begin to understand. Taris shifted ids eyes to the person who had snickered, intending to remember them well. This was most definitely not the Starfleet id knew.

 

[Darkraven]

And that was when the turbolift finally reached the bridge. When the doors opened, Junior Lieutenant Robert Polito marched through, leading the group towards the Captain's ready room, hoping desperately that Commander Mercer Bradfield would not bother with him. At first, it seemed that all was well, as the First Officer had already come up to his seat. He was dead wrong. Mercer snapped his neck to look at him. The entire bridge's attention was turned to him, and the eyes of a Nausicaan, Tellerite, Kraekiran Eagle as well as the various other crewmen were turned to him and the group he had brought to deck one.

[Tele-Empathic Reveal (Junior Lieutenant Robert Polito): Oh no. Not again! I hate this!]

[Tele-Empathic Reveal (Commander Mercer Bradfield): *Mercer seemed like an inexhaustible supply of fury, if there's such a thing* It's that God-damn SLACKER again! I'll fix him, I'll fix him real good! Starfleet betrayed me, and I'm going to make him pay for it! I'm going to make them all PAY!]

[Tele-Empathic Reveal (Lieutenant Ma'Juk): Oh no, not again. I hope Robert gets through this without downing six bottles of synthehol tonight.]

[Tele-Empathic Reveal (Lieutenant Krii'Kii): Oh look, more meat into the grinder. They smell good. I wonder how do they taste like? Not that I'll ever know, of course...]

[Tele-Empathic Reveal (Junior Lieutenant Hronn): Here we go again. Another argument! It's too one-sided to be really enjoyable, but I'll take what I can get!]

"Polito," the commander said with such despise that it was impossible to ignore. The junior officer stopped in his tracks immediately, afraid to stay and yet knew that it would be suicide to ignore the First Officer. Mercer stomped towards him, stopping just right in front of him. "You're late. Again."

"Sir, it was only for a minute. I was just-" Robert tried to explain himself, but he was cut off entire by his superior officer.

"ONLY A MINUTE!" Commander Mercer screamed into his face. Robert shook, like a man who had just heard a shell explode near his trench. "A minute could mean the difference between a warp core breach, and safety! A minute could mean the difference between a stabilised crewman or a dead one! A minute could be life and death!" Robert didn't try to explain himself any further, knowing that he would just be digging his own grave, deeper foot by foot.

[Tele-Empathic Reveal (Commander Mercer Bradfield): *A confluence of hatred, anger, bitterness and a lot of grief* These Starfleet officers, they're all the same! Complacent! They're all going to suffer for what they've done to my wife! But there's my duty too... Perhaps if I turn them into something else other than Starfleet officers... If I ever encounter the Borg... I'll make them pay too!]

"I don't want to hear anything more about 'a minute', is that understood!?" the First Officer bellowed.

"Yes, sir," Robert acknowledged.

"You were actually 47 seconds late, lieutenant," Mercer went on. "Perhaps I should consider sending you to a course in basic mathematics and manners."

That was when Commander Mercer Bradfield's eyes shifted to the new group that had come aboard the ship. Disgust was immediately apparent on his face. "What the hell is this?"

"They're the new officers, I'm taking them to-" Robert tried to explain, but he wasn't given the chance.

"I know who they are. Are you calling me an idiot!?" the First Officer went on. When Robert tried to blubber and come up with an apology and explanation, he was shoved aside. Commander Mercer Bradfield's eyes were now targeting them, specifically the one who won the worst uniform award.

"Ensign Varra Orc-Kel!" Unapologetically, the First Officer ploughed into the group and seized the said junior officer by the collar of her inner shirt. "Is this how you DRESS for DUTY!?" He scanned her from head to toe, and what he found below had infuriated him further. He was so angry and incredulous that he'd actually let go. "You have ten seconds to explain your shoes!"

[Tele-Empathic Reveal (Commander Mercer Bradfield): *Overwhelming contempt* If it isn't another bloody underachiever! What a surprise - that's all we got for our crew - crazies, unwanted trash and fresh graduates with unrealistic expectations, spoiled brats! She'll suffer like the rest of them! I'll make doubly sure of that! I'll make them pay for making me suffer! But it's never enough... Why is it never-]

That was when the door leading into the Captain's ready room opened. Literally every bridge officer on deck one (except the First Officer) straightened themselves in anticipation of the Captain's entrance, but it turned out to be a false alarm. A Betazoid crewman was just leaving, but she was leaning on the wall for support, with her other hand on her mouth. She looked like she was retching and about to vomit. It must be something to do with what she had sensed, empathic or not, in the Captain's ready room, and possibly on the bridge.

[Tele-Empathic Reveal (Crewman Setal): So much pain... So much sadness and anger and... I can't handle it, I can't take it anymore! I must get to the sickbay!]

For a brief moment, the Captain's silhouette could be seen. A huge, imposing figure, wrapped in its own wings, four eyes glowing red and staring after the Betazoid's exit. Within a second, the door had closed on its own, and the image was gone.

MechanicalSnake Epiphany Inactive User 002 RPLongAndProsper

 

[Epiphany]

Kimberly ignored the Ensign's joking remark about sedatives, judging (probably correctly) that the seriousness of the conversation deserved her full attention. Polito's description of the First Officer's behavior fits the definition of cruelty, something she was familiar with in the academic sense but had little personal experience with. This was a side of humanity she had little access to. Perhaps that would change now.

And the Captain? Well, he was a Kraekiran Raven, one of an avian species with a history of conflict with the Federation. Perhaps a veteran of that conflict. Unlike the First Officer, Captain Ke'varr's problematic behavior seemed to be more nonverbal, which also made him an interesting case study. Of course, with her assignment to the secondary crew, her opportunities to interact with either would likely be minimal outside of emergency situations.

Actual contact was another matter.

Commander Bradfield's behavior was a singular outlier, completely outside of the command profile of every executive officer she'd encountered (or read about). Even Startfleet Academy training in life-and-death topics lacked that kind of intensity, belligerence and condescension. In Kimberly's years of service, she'd seen a crewmate dressed down several times, and her own memory of that highly embarrassing first contact situation followed by the speech and formal reprimand for it was her model for disciplinary resolution. Based on hundreds of interactions, this was a striking outlier.

The light of her Synaptic Synchronization transmitter flashed beneath her uniform as Kimberly pulled records, her architecture automatically searching for nearby Kimberly Series units to loadshare the processing demand with and naturally failing to find any. It took several seconds but finally she found a match meeting the parameters she'd specified!

As Bradfield dressed the new officers down, Kimberly watched him with a look of outright fascination. She tilted her head slightly as he passed, trying to get a good look at his hands. Ultimately, her analysis was inconclusive. The opening of the Captain's door offered the brief prospect that actual interaction wouldn't be necessary at this time but it proved to be a false hope...and all the more concerning with the state of that Betazoid crewman.

Hoping to be helpful, Kimberly turned to Ensign Varra and offered a suggestion in a tone that didn't carry across the bridge but which the First Officer undoubtedly could hear given his close proximity. "Our executive officer may be a Zaldan, Ensign. " Turning her gaze back to Command Bradfield, she asked the man "Are you a Zaldan, sir? It'd be helpful in establishing the racial context for interacting appropriately with you."

 

[Error 420]

Jack was taken aback and offended by Bradford's behavior. It infuriated her how he insulted and belittled Polito, someone she had come to like, and especially his comment on Varra's clothes. It took a lot of willpower for Jack to not interfere, but something about the Lieutenant's steely gaze and intimidating stature filled her with memories that drove her quickly into silence. A brief glimmer of hope dashed across her eyes when Kimberly tried to ease the situation, but was quickly extinguished upon an incidental eye contact with the lieutenant. While she was looking up though, she noticed something, a tube-shaped mechanical piece in front of the left ear. Borg. Before her medical licence was removed, she spent three months on the Enterprise in the Med-bay. It was sickening what the Borg would do to a man, what they were capable of. She'd never heard of a Borg being unincorporated before though. She looked back up to closer examine the implants. It was definitely the work of the Borg. No seams, no visible power source. The edges suggested that it was biologically, or perhaps even molecularily bonded. She stared at him, almsot agape.

 

[Inactive User 002]

Stepping onto the bridge Varra was amazed at how sleek it looked. It was nothing like the old Constellation-class she had served on. Varra was a bit shocked at how the first officer was tearing into poor Polito for his timing being a slightly off. It was nothing like her old ship were delays were expected given the ships old age. Even when she had been serving on Vokkan ships delays were expected. To say this cybernetic man was over reacting would be an understatement.

Suddenly Varra heard the enraged first officer call out her name. Turning back towards him she was stunned when he grabbed onto her shirt. He pulled Varra up and close, with Varra almost having to stand on her tip toes. She was confused when he asked if this is how she dressed for duty. Thinking to herself that she was only wearing Starfleet issued clothes. However following the first officers eyes down Varra was shocked and slack jawed when she saw her shoes. While closely resembling Starfleet boots these were different as they sparkled slightly as she moved. Thinking to herself Varra wondered who the bloody hell had she been with last night. When he gave her ten seconds to explain Varra’s mind rushed for an explanation in the time frame.

Unfortunately the captains door opened distracting her as a Betazoid crewman came out. She looked absolutely terrible. However Varra turned her head back to the angry first officer realising she had failed to answer him. What was worse is that Kimberly butted in. Varra imagined that a first officer such as this wouldn’t take kindly to someone interrupting him. Quickly she tried thinking of a response “Sir I um... didn’t realise I.. um picked up the wrong boots when I left this morning”. Varra had practically fell over her words trying to explain. Varra hoped that she had at least taken attention off of Kimberly. Thinking to herself that maybe the first officer was a Zaldan like Kimberly suggested but, he was an ass for sure no matter what race he was. Bracing herself Varra expected the first officer to give her one hell of a dressing-down.

 

[Darkraven]

"Our executive officer may be a Zaldan, Ensign," Junior Lieutenant Kimberly #49 suggested while Commander Bradfield was having his way with Ensign Varra Orc-Kel. "Are you a Zaldan, sir? It'd be helpful in establishing the racial context for interacting appropriately with you." The Commander snorted at the gynoid's suggestion, but before he could say anything, Varra spoke up:

“Sir I um... didn’t realise I.. um picked up the wrong boots when I left this morning,” she said.

"You can't even dress yourself properly - you can't even select the right pair of footwear for duty!" Commander Bradfield shouted, by now convinced that he was dealing with a group of incompetents. "Something tells me Starfleet made a mistake plucking you out of that rust bucket you called a home!" But before anyone else had a chance to speak, he turned to face Kimberly:

"And you! If you're simulating severe mental retardation, you're doing a good job!" Pushing Varra aside, Bradfield jabbed his fingers into Kimberly's shoulder. "Let me tell you something, 49. If you don't load up a new program, preferably one that simulates better intelligence, I'm going to have the chief engineer take you apart plate by plate to find the problem, you hear me? Data-wannabe!" Then, without lifting his severe glare:

"CREWMAN YELA!" he shouted. "Come here!"

Crewman Yela turned out to be the current pilot of the USS Vigilance - though there was only so much she could do while the ship was still docked with Deep Space 9. The Denobulan got up and trotted over to her First Officer. She promptly stood at attention an arm's length away, a clear look of dread on her face. Commander Bradfield turned around to look down at her boots. At least this time, he didn't have any other insults to dispense: "You are wearing a pair of size H-8 boots. Confirm."

[Tele-Empathic Reveal (Commander Mercer Bradfield): These useless officers remind me of everything I hate! They're the same as those people on the Enterprise-D who condemned me to hell on a Borg cube! Who condemned my wife to servitude in the collective for the rest of her life! They will suffer just as she is suffering now!]

"Yes, sir. Polished twice a day, sir," the crewman replied promptly, afraid that she might get the same treatment as her new officers.

"Remove them. Give them to Ensign Varra over here," Commander Bradfield ordered.

"Sir?" the crewman said, knowing full well what the First Officer ordered, but surprised at it. It was a new level of... Bradfield-ness.

"You heard me!" the Commander shouted. The crewman shook and promptly bent down to remove her shoes as quickly as she could. Before anyone knew it, she had handed over her boots to the Commander, and the Commander pushed them into Varra's arms crudely and violently. Crewman Yela stared at Ensign Varra with contempt on her face.

[Tele-Empathic Reveal (Crewman Yela): These are the kind of people I answer to? Why did I join Starfleet in the first place? I hate Ensign Varra for humiliating me in front of everyone! Now I'm going to be the laughing stock of my bunk!]

"What about me, sir?" the crewman asked the First Officer.

"You better hope your dear Ensign here won't need it for the rest of the day," Commander Bradfield said casually before turning to the secondary bridge crew. Crewman Yela promptly returned to the conn, barefooted, humiliated and rather upset. "Now, unless any of you have any other idiotic antics up your sleeves, I would suggest you guys get a move on, before I find a new reason to put you on cleaning duty!"

MechanicalSnake Epiphany Inactive User 002 RPLongAndProsper

 

[Epiphany]

The Commander's continued beligerance baffled Kimberly #49. Again, her Synaptic Synchronization transmitter pulsed under her uniform as she vainly strove to reconcile Bradfield's behavior against the norms of Starfleet and, again, failed to return any match. Given Starfleet psychiatric screening, this experience was paradoxical, it shouldn't be happening. Thankfully, Galorian androids had been somewhat improved since their initial contact with irrational humanity last century. Her processor hit peak utilization, then appended the scenario to a storage file for uploading to the greater Galorian mainframe for analysis.

Instead, she smiled brightly at Commander Bradfield and said, "Thank you, sir! Understood!"

The exchange of boots was another profound mystery, given replicators would make replacement of footwear trivial. Another appended file for another analysis, when there were more processors available.

At Bradfield's suggestion that they get underway, Lieutenant Kimberly said "Aye, sir," and promptly strolled for the Captain's ready-room.

 

[MechanicalSnake]

Saying that the atmosphere on the bridge was toxic would have been a huge understatement. As soon as Savir stepped out of the turbolift, it literally hit him in the face like the scorching air of Vulcan deserts. The massive wave of contempt did not have a single source, but the fire that fueled them all could be easily traced to the present commanding officer. The man emenated such a strong aura of misplaced hate that Savir immediately made a mental note to formally apologize to Lieutenant Polito at closest opportunity. Before, he had falsely believed the man to be exaggerating a little, while in reality Polito had not even touched upon the monstrously vile attitude of the First Officer. Savir briefly noted there was a J'nnai officer standing near the turbolift, whose miserable expression prompted he had been Bradfield's appetizer, while the group led by Polito was about to become the main course.

The drama that followed, accompanied by a selection of ominous thoughts and an array of emotions varying in the degree of unpleasantness, but unfailingly negative, was sure to give him a migraine. And it would have been more harmful, if he were anything like the Betazoid officer that had just slipped past him, retching on the way to the sickbay. Except he was not. He had spent the first ten years of his life learning to use his talents in ways that were strictly forbidden in the Federation and the next ten years learning to avoid using them in such ways. Digging for information people were unwilling to give up, forcing them to do his bidding or erasing their memories made him largely immune to transference of emotions. Savir had developed a technique that enabled him to mentally detach himself from potentially harmful emotions, whenever they became too much to handle; one he had overused to the point when it became automatic.

As he was standing on the bridge, he sensed the shift happening without actually willing it to. It was unnoticeable for anyone else, but Savir felt like he was observing the scene from outside his body, which meant things were really, really bad. Savir liked order. He did not glorify it like most Vulcans, but he believed a Starfleet member should always arrive on time and be properly dressed for duty. But Bradfield was not furious about these rather small offences for the sake of teaching the younger officers a lesson. He was welcoming them, because they gave him a more or less valid reason to humiliate someone - anyone, and the total of his thoughts and emotions were quite clear about the fact that he was willing to find any reason to do so. The Commander hated the world and his sole wish in life was for every single being to be as miserable as himself. Unfortunately, on his ship, he had the power to make that a reality. The fact that knowing that the Kraekiran Lieutenant was thinking about the taste of their flash seemed unimportant in comparison was a definite indicator of just how destructive Bradfield's attitude appeared to be to the entire ship. The only unbothered individual was the Tellarite, who naturally thrived on arguments.

Savir briefly considered contacting one of his new colleagues telepathically, warning them to remain quiet, not allowing the Commander to target them, but he decided against. It seemed likely that none of them had ever been approached in that way and it would only serve to spook them into some kind of reaction. And so he could only watch the events unfold. In all honesty, it surprised him that the only one who didn't embarass themselves was Jack, whom he considered rash by nature, but... small mercies were good, too. By the time they were finally let into the Captain's ready room, Savir had come to the obvious conclusion: Bradfield was unfit for duty and there was no logic in his continued service. He was firmly decided there was no choice left to him but find out, which incompetent doctor had cleared him and fix the problem for everyone's sake. Until then, he would do his very best not to provoke the Commander and hide his intentions.

 

[Darkraven]

When the group of secondary bridge crew officers had fallen silent over Commander Bradfield order, Junior Lieutenant Polito took the initiative and started leading them towards the Captain's ready room. Ensign Varra, in the meantime, appeared harassed as she began changing into the crewman's boots, clearly humiliated that she had to do it in front of the senior officers (another everyone else) attending the bridge. She lagged behind everyone else, who had stopped outside the door leading into the ready room, but she was able to catch up, leaving behind her sparkling shoes in the middle of the bridge.

"I want you back at your post when they're in, Mr. Polito!" Commander Bradfield's voice boomed from the middle of the bridge. Evidently, he wasn't done yet, and he wouldn't be for a long, lone time. If he had a choice, he would never, ever stop.

[Tele-Empathic Reveal (Commander Mercer Bradfield): I'm going to grill him. Grill him good!]

"Yes, sir," Robert acknowledged automatically before pressing the 'call' button beside the door of the Captain's ready room. "Captain Ke'varr? The secondary bridge officers have reported as ordered, sir."

"Excellent. Send them in," a deep voice, gravelly, as if sanded by time for far too long, replied in a methodical, deliberate way. The door opened, revealing the Captain's ready room of the intrepid-class ship. It was darker than the outside, at 50% of normal illumination. A form stood behind the captain's desk. His profile was clear from the light, from the candles he had lit. A gargantuan form, 2.3m tall, stood with wings covering himself like a cloak. The hands of the figure, massive avian hands with four fingers each ending with what were essentially natural knives, cradled a photo framed in ebony metal of Gothic-equivalent designs.

As the group came in, Robert Polito showed himself out without a word, no doubt to deliver himself into the clutches of the local Borg queen (or king). Captain Ke'varr slid a dangerous finger down the glass of the picture he was holding before setting it down beside a multitude of other framed photos, all illuminated by candles burning like dying souls to be snuffed. It was a picture of a candid shot, or at least what could pass for candid shots with two formal captains in uniform. The subjects: Captain Ke'varr and Captain Janeway, on Earth. The other pictures around it depicted different Kraekirans, as well as Starfleet officers, probably those he had served with. One of them was of him, in a flowing holo-robe, shaking hands with an admiral in 50's Starfleet uniform.

Then, with a certain unexplained reluctance, Captain Ke'varr turned to the group, all four of his eyes staring at them, burning red and very much fitting the command red shoulder of his uniform, which shone clear when he folded his wings with neat, military precision behind him. He hanged his beak ajar and tilted his head slightly. The medals he wore on his chest glinted from the candles all around the ready room.

"If it isn't more cupcakes served on my plate," Captain Ke'varr said, every word deep with hidden meaning and unavoidable implications and feelings. His lower beak continued to hang ajar. It was the Kraekiran smile - having no lips and humanoid mouths, Kraekirans have evolved to express smiles with their beaks instead. Putting his clawed, rough dark-grey hands behind him, he continued: "Welcome to the voidship Vigilance, gentleman and ladies."

[Tele-Empathic Reveal (Captain Ke'varr Sel'kir): *A chaotic maelstrom of conflicting emotions raged inside Captain Ke'varr's mind - hatred mixed with love, depression and fury mixed with happiness and tranquility, excitement tempered by caution* kill, kill, kill, kill, these, kill, little, kill, weasels... kill, are, kill, fit, kill, for, kill, kill, kill, a meal, kill THESE ARE SOME FINE STARFLEET mammal OFFICERS kill, kill, kill, kill, kill, AND THEY, kill, kill, rend, rend, rend, rend, WILL HAVE TO DO blood! morsels! THEY MAY NOT BE OF THE SAME live STOCK kill, kill, kill, kill, kill AS THOSE I HAD FOUGHT AGAINST tear, tear, tear, tear, tear BUT THEY WILL MAKE UP FOR WHAT THEY LACK IN taste BRAVADO, I'M will kill SURE. MY ANALYSIS OF kill, kill, kill, kill, kill THEIR DOSSIERS SHOULD BE tasty ACCURATE.]

"As you may well know, I am Captain Ke'varr, your commanding officer aboard this ship. I look forward to working with you fine, young puddings," the Captain went on, his temperament, for now, seemingly fatherly and grandfatherly at the same time, like how an old man would speak to grade school children. He promptly stuck a hand out, four-fingered and rough, not unlike the magnified foot of a Terran Raven. Its talons were curved and still sharp, sharpened for war. The hand looked like a cruel trap, and many officers had actually avoided shaking it for fear of grievous injury. "I trust that some of you have inquiries before we speak of battles and bloodshed?"

 

[Error 420]

"Yes captain. I'm Ensign Jack Keiper," she takes the captain's hand and gives it the most formal handshake she could, "and, if I may, I was wondering what exactly our roles would be on the Vigilance. You have a full senior staff, so why would you request junior staff?" Jack's casual smile and posture quickly became one of formality and respect for the captain, her blue eyes glimmering with focus. She had studied Kraekearians and had some understanding of what might be happening in his mind, admiring his control and empathizing deeply.

 

[Epiphany]

"Further to the Ensign's remarks," Kimberly says, likewise taking a turn to shake. "I'm sure you plan to use us to support the swing or night shift. My only inquiry at this time is to ask permission to utilize the communications array at regularly scheduled intervals to send my synchronization data to Starfleet for routing to Galor IV, as has been the standing arrangement on any ship I've served on."
Once the hand shake is done, she falls into a parade rest posture, silently wondering what Jack Keiper's own service history has been like.

 

[RPLongAndProsper]

Mindful of the trainwreck that had been ids meeting with Commander Bradfield, Taris was taking extra care not to do anything that would make the Captain doubt his mental capacities. Which was somewhat difficult, because it meant id would have to overlook the fact that when Ke'varr had greeted them, he'd used the word "gentleman" in singular. Taris considered being mistaken for a lady significantly offensive, especially on a day when id was deliberately trying to give off a male vibe. On the other hand, if id had to choose between a superior who paid little attention to ids personal file and a superior who read the file only to acquire information they could abuse for public humiliation, the former was most definitely the better option. It also meant that id would have to ignore the Captain calling their vessel a voidship, which... really could have been just an innocent slip, come to think of it.

Taris followed the example of his colleagues and shook the Captain's hand. "Lieutenant Taris Noor. It is an honor to meet you," id said politely, picking one pair of the creature's eyes to look into. As id leaned over the table, Taris got to briefly spot the photograph the Captain had been holding before; it depicted him and the missing Captain Janeway in a manner that suggested mutual respect, or even friendship. Along with the fatherly tone of Ke'varr's voice, this served to -almost- put Taris at ease. In a way, personal investment in the mission ahead likened the otherwise alarmingly alien being to the rest of them. After all, they were all there for one purpose, and that was what really mattered, right?

 

[MechanicalSnake]

Sometimes, knowing things others do not know can be a burden, Savir thought as he watched his colleagues interact with the Captain. Neither of them appeared to be particularly alarmed by being likened to a number of food items, because they were blissfully unaware of the fact that the Kreakiran was actively thinking of killing them for meal. Or rather a part of him was thinking about that, while the other part seemed excited to have new, talented officers on board. Savir himself was not particularly bothered by this piece of knowledge either, because he was still watching the scene from above like a holomovie.

From that point of view, the Captain's mind seemed to be an endlessly fascinating study object. Savir was well informed of the infamously unstable mental health of his species, which often involved schizophrenia or bipolar disorder, and he had encountered multiples cases of both illnesses during his relatively short career. This, however, exceeded all his expectations. Most patients suffering from the bipolar disorder enjoyed extended periods of relative stability, followed by months of depression and weeks of excessive excitement, while those with multiple personalities typically demonstrated one of them at a time. A few experienced so called rapid cycling, when moods would switch several times during a day, sometimes even multiple times per hour. The Captain constituted the most extreme case of rapid cycling Savir could imagine. It was as though the shifts between moods and personalities kept happening so quickly, that they became irrelevant and all the emotions and egos practically occupied the same space in his head at the same time.

"Lieutenant Savir reporting for duty," the Vulcan said blankly, making no effort to shake the Captain's hand. Instead, he folded his hands behind his back in a stiff manner. It wasn't the claws, really. He had been specifically bred and trained for achieving effortlessly what other Vulcans could only achieve through touch. If he actually touched someone, everything became even more intense, and Savir had absolutely no intention to be sucked into the black hole of insanity that lay behind those four red eyes. Not a chance. "I feel it necessary to point out that we are not currently on a voidship," he added in a manner that was exactly on the border between being helpful and annoying. "Taking that into consideration, are battles and bloodshed still to be expected...?"

 

[Darkraven]

"Yes captain. I'm Ensign Jack Keiper, and, if I may, I was wondering what exactly our roles would be on the Vigilance. You have a full senior staff, so why would you request junior staff?" Ensign Jack Keiper asked, and Captain Ke'varr turned to regard her with all four eyes, the red of his eyes severe and the black pupils dilating. He blinked all four eyes, though it was his nictitating membrane that did the blinking. His red met blue, though he wasn't impressed by the display she was putting on, not after what he had read in her file and what he would have to do to her to make things right. He gave no indication of this, and his alien face helped to conceal that. Before he could say anything, the gynoid continued the already overlong question.

[Tele-Empathic Reveal (Captain Ke'varr Sel'kir): YESSSSSSSSSSSS... kill, kill, kill, kill, kill, HER, kill, SHE, die, RESEMBLED, die, WILL, kill, TAKE, kill, CARE, kill, OF, kill, HER my fault, kill that, kill, I, MUST]

"Further to the Ensign's remarks. I'm sure you plan to use us to support the swing or night shift. My only inquiry at this time is to ask permission to utilize the communications array at regularly scheduled intervals to send my synchronization data to Starfleet for routing to Galor IV, as has been the standing arrangement on any ship I've served on," Junior Lieutenant Kimberly #49 asked further. Captain Ke'varr shifted its avian stare to her when she stated her question. They'd shook hands, but somehow, the handshake felt empty on both sides - the Captain felt nothing for Kimberly and the handshake, a human gesture, felt hollow even though it had made him felt much before.

[Tele-Empathic Reveal (Captain Ke'varr Sel'kir): kill, kill, kill yourself, WHY, kill, DID, kill, YOU DO, kill, THIS, TO ME, kill, KE'VARR!? kill yourself, kill, kill, kill, you deserve it, you deserve it, kill, kill YOU, kill, LIVED, kill, FAR, kill, TOO, kill LONG, kill yourself]

Before he said anything, Captain Ke'varr put down the PADD, perhaps a little too hard than he intended. He gave the Kraekiran equivalent of a sigh, which was quite similar, surprisingly, to a human's. He blinked again, though this time with his primary eyelids - a habit he picked up from among the humans. It served no real biological purpose, not with lubricating his eyes, but it soothed his eyes, shielded it from the light. The afterthought, however, was that it always felt unnatural after he did it.

"You will have no such luxuries aboard my ship, Miss Kimberly!" Captain Ke'varr screeched, and as if surprised by himself, he straightened up and cleared his throat. Without apology nor even acknowledgement of what he did, he continued calmly: "We will shortly enter hostile territory and radio silence is vital. You will synchronise only after the mission. You will have the full details during the briefing after this." He shifted his attention back to Jack, turning his all-seeing eyes back on her abruptly.

"As for your question, Ensign Jack Keiper," Captain Ke'varr said, still bringing himself under control in the meantime. "It is my way - the Kraekiran way - to have full redundancy on the bridge, for the smooth operation of the ship, increased tactical speed and awareness, and should any of the senior officers fall... It would mean opportunities for some of you. We will speak of your roles, but first, I would like to know the rest of you." Captain Ke'varr returned his attention to the rest of the group. Shook hands with Junior Lieutenant Taris Noor - though no significant words were exchanged between them. The Captain did notice that there was some tension in the man - or woman - but he didn't pursue it, just fixed his four eyes on him, as a hawk would fix its eagle eyes on a target. It could be interpreted in several ways, not that the Captain had deigned to explain himself.

Then came the Vulcan's turn.

"Lieutenant Savir reporting for duty," the Vulcan said, but retracted his hand. Captain Ke'varr had stuck his out to a vacuum, and soon he retracted his. The Captain stuck his eyes on the Vulcan with equal intensity as he did with Taris Noor, though this time his reasons would be different. It was barely noticeable, but one of the Captain's cheeks ticked briefly. "I feel it necessary to point out that we are not currently on a voidship. Taking that into consideration, are battles and bloodshed still to be expected...?"

[Tele-Empathic Reveal (Captain Ke'varr Sel'kir): kill, kill, kill, I, kill, WONDER, kill, HOW, kill, hurt, IF, kill, kill HIS, kill, FLESH, kill, TASTED, kill, THE SAME, kill, AS, kill, kill, THE VULCAN, kill, kill, kill I ATE, kill, kill, MORE THAN A, rend, rend, CENTURY, kill, AGO, stop, kill, stop, KE'VARR, kill, THIS VULCAN, stop, must kill this Vulcan, stop]

"I'm sorry?" the Captain said, partially distracted by his own thoughts, and partially and genuinely confused by the Vulcan's questions. But he soon understood, just as he had come to understand an endless number of other things. "Yes, but I believe it is a matter of linguistics. Voidship simply refers to a space vessel-" At this, the Captain had lied, partially. While it COULD be a matter of linguistics, a voidship did refer to a Kraekiran starship, and he did have many reasons for calling the Vigilance a voidship. "And 'battles and bloodshed' is the Kraekiran equivalent of 'business'. There are multiple forms of the phrase, which I'll be happy to share with you over a dining table."

"But for now, we must speak of 'bloodshed'," the Captain went on without stopping. "There will be a meeting in the briefing room minutes after this - and we will discuss the specifics of our mission then. For now, your postings. It is my desire that I speak to each of you personally for this, get to know each of you better, but time is fleeting. Perhaps when there is time during our flight to the badlands, we may talk, one sanguinarian to one sanguinarian. But for now, we must speak as a squadron."

"With the exception of Ensign Imogen," the Captain nodded to the silent female officer standing at the back. "You will be posted to the bridge as secondary bridge officers, alpha shift. This means assisting the senior officer you will be assigned to."

The first person he turned to was... "Junior Lieutenant Kimberly #49. You will aid Chief Science Officer Lieutenant Krii'kii as a Science Officer. I understand that her hawkish focus on the physics realm of science mean that you will be of great assistance to her. She will be rough, and her temper may flare often, but I have no doubt that you can be patient with her."

Then he turned to... "Junior Lieutenant Taris Noor. I struggled with the decision as to your posting. However, I have decided that you will work closely with First Officer Commander Mercer Bradfield and Chief Tactical Officer Junior Lieutenant Robert Polito as a Tactical Officer. You will assist Robert mostly in any ship-to-ship tactical scenarios."

Next, he set his seemingly unblinking eyes on... "Ensign Varra Ork-Kel. You will take over half the conn as a Co-pilot. You may, perhaps, become the Vigilance's Pilot should your evaluation be successful. But be wary, for my First Officer has set a very high standard for the pilot, and so have I. I intend to apply Kraekiran tactics into my captaincy on this ship."

"Ensign Imogen. Lieutenant Ma'Juk have requested that you head one of the security teams below. I honoured his request, and as I understand it, it is an honour. Congratulations."

Then he shifted his gaze on Junior Lieutenant Savir, and paused for a few seconds. The facial tics came on again. "Junior Lieutenant Savir. Your title shall be Assistant Counselor. However, as I am unable to secure Counselor Deanna Troi's service, you will serve as Acting Counselor. You will double as a Medical Officer, and serve as liaison between the bridge and sick bay in the common event that Doctor Jack Kwan is not on the bridge." The Captain fixed his gaze on the Vulcan longer, appearing as though there was more to be said, but moved on.

Without looking at Jack, he gave her the assignment: "And you, Ensign Jack Keiper. You- I have decided to revive the posting of Yeoman, and you shall be the first Yeoman in almost a century. Starfleet Command will be monitoring your performance as a study. You will tend to my needs. You will anticipate my needs. Additionally, I will be personally supervising EVERYTHING you are doing. You shall be by my side, without fail, from now on, unless otherwise ordered. My schedule will be yours. You will do everything with me, short of matters of hygiene and sleep. You will need my permission to enter your own quarters, and you use the replicators through me. Do you have further inquiries, Ensign?"

The Captain's ready room fell silent after that. Captain Ke'varr's Kraekiran Voidfleet armour, imperial and ornate and dark, stood guard like a security officer at one corner of the room. Near it, his service sword, what would be a human o'dachi in terms of size and damage yield but merely a normal blade to a Kraekiran, was hung on the wall. They were all reminders of his past. Just as everything else were.

MechanicalSnake Epiphany Inactive User 002 RPLongAndProsper

 

[Error 420]

Jack replied to the captain with a down-to-business "No, sir." She retains her composure despite her mind lighting up with fireworks, overwhelmingly powerful emotions of elation, euphoria, and fear. She breaks into a smile momentarily but quickly contains herself, stifling hyperventilation. She considers her crewmates. Firstly, Varra being on bridge meant... a lot of time being spent together, something Jack tried to keep in her mind as nothing more than a matter of fact. Kimberly got the position that Jack was, in her mind, most qualified for, and almost sure that she would get. She was a little jealous as Kimberly received her posting, but a little bit proud, feeling a sort of kinship with her.

Upon Taris's posting from the captain, Jack perked up. She hadn't noticed the J'nnai before, and that was extremely interesting to her, as the J'nnai culture's stance on gender identity was the whole focus of her Starfleet dissertation. She almost exploded with questions once more, but contained herself. At this point, occupants of the room could clearly observe her rapidly changing expression and posture as countless thoughts conflicted.

Finally, the Vulcan being appointed as counselor was... interesting, to say the least. A majority of Vulcans were incredibly out of touch with emotions. Maybe there was something more to this Vulcan? Raised in a different culture? Perhaps from a mixed-species family? She'd have to check in with him later.

 

[RPLongAndProsper]

Taris lowered ids eyes in a somewhat dejected manner, feeling unreasonably hurt by the Captain's words. It was the expression "struggled with your placement" that got to idre, as id was painfully reminded of Bradfield's ironic remark about the Captain having chosen idre by some kind of drunken mistake. At first, Taris had thought nothing of it, as the Commander was obviously in the habit of saying the first hostile thing that came to mind, but now id was struck cold by the possibility that it might have actually been true. "I will do my very best not to disappoint you," id said firmly, raw honesty ringing in ids voice.

It was essential that the Captain thought the best of idre, because frankly, Taris knew all too well how this would go. Id had seen too many of those old army movies for ids own good. Being assigned to Bradfield was undeniably the worst thing that could have happened; Taris now saw nothing but dirty toilets and bad reports in ids future, and that simply wasn't fair. It wasn't fair, because id had never been anything but excellent at idres job, and id had the years of experience to expect a rise, rather then being dismissed from Starfleet because of an arrogant asshole. For a moment, id caught idself thinking that if any senior officer fell... it would be nice if it was Commander Bradfield. That thought both scared and humiliated Taris. If one hour on board of this ship had done this to idre, what would happen in a month? Was id going to turn into a miserable wreck like Polito, or laugh at someone else's misery like that bridge officer? No, id had to be stronger than that.