SD241806.08 | Joint Duty Log - CO & CD - "Expressing Concern"

Posted on Sat Feb 18th, 2023 @ 6:56pm by Admiral Rochelle Ivanova

1,380 words; about a 7 minute read

Mission: Lacuna
Timeline: BACKLOG

=^= Bridge =^=

The afternoon was making way to evening, with clues both obvious and subtle. Beings of all species were most alert when under the illusion that a day-night cycle was going on. The lights during the day were tinged with yellow, and produced strong UV to imitate the glow of some nonspecific sun. As time wore on, these lights would gradually dim and become whiter, with less UV. Many planets didn't have light like this at night, due to moonlessness or thick cloud cover, but enough of them did that it was worth imitating.

The day shift, their eyes starting to glaze over, glanced towards the turbolift door as it opened. Five or six people, Ensigns and Lieutenants, walked out of the lift and tapped their counterparts on the shoulder, wordlessly signalling the end of their shift. Some left quickly, though a couple stayed to do some hand-over. Conversations were muttered and heads were nodded as fresh minds turned their attentions to the problems of the evening, left behind by the previous shift.

Commander Smith was the last to leave the turbolift, making eye contact with Kobor on his way around the bridge. The Klingon shifted as if to rise from his chair, but settled back down as John gave him the "one minute" signal. He needed a word with the Captain before starting his shift.

Across the bridge lay the door to the Captain's ready-room. John, sparing a moment to tug on his tunic, pressed the door chime and listened for the response.

"Enter!" Rochelle called from behind her desk. Reports were pouring in, but they weren't the ones she wanted. Docked, she couldn't have given an iota less about what was happening down in Engineering and knew they were simply sitting there playing a round of poker while discussing what it was they could fluff a report with. It couldn't have been more detailed than that and if they thought she was falling for anything else, they were downright daffy. Not that she cared. Archer and Anaxar were out in the black, screaming towards some otherwise obsolete portion of space that held that which - for the moment - mattered most: the kidnapped portion of their crew and the station's doctor.

Silence was to be expected as they ran this operation, granted, but it was beginning to drive Rochelle up a wall as she waited for something, anything, even a smoke signal, relaying that the mission was a success. The chime being rung meant that it wasn't Ra'lin or Almar, the two she'd expected to come up with the intel she desperately wanted and looking up at the sound of boot-clad feet hitting the polish teak floor she could do little to contain the disappointment that it wasn't one of Archer's pariah dogs come to share word of his successful hunt. The corner of her mouth wavered for a second and she sighed, turning off the PADD that now lay prone and cold, forgotten on her desk. "Commander Smith." She greeted him quietly, "I was hoping there was news about the mission." How he'd managed to earn her respect enough to warrant an explanation for her mood and reaction remained an errant mystery, but he had and she gave it. "What can I do for you?"

"Ma'am, with all respect for your yeoman, I'd like to express concern over Lieutenant Sha'mer's recent behaviour." said John, recognising that the Commodore's attention was elsewhere and getting straight to the point.

While the diplomat was not waiting on tenterhooks for the results of the mission, lacking any personal connection to the abducted officers beyond their mutual association with Starfleet, he was keen that the mission go off without a hitch. On his part, this meant ensuring that the diplomatic inquiries his department was generating didn't lessen in their frequency. Anyone monitoring the number of data requests from the Vindicator to their allies would notice not a lessening, but rather the opposite; as if their desperation to find their missing crewman had grown to a near fever pitch in its intensity. Anything less would be to admit that they'd stopped looking, an action which could indicate to the captors that a rescue attempt was imminent.

John wanted the villains to think themselves safely hidden, right up till the moment after the Commodore's agents kicked in the door.

Another one of his priorities was to prepare for mission failure. Or, rather, to anticipate a situation where every resource (diplomatic and otherwise) would need to be thrown at an unforeseen problem. Like a pinned down rescue team, or intercepting a hit squad hot on their tail. Whatever the problem, the crew would be put under sudden pressure to perform. This meant that any issue severe enough to see the Commodore's personal yeoman hiding in the deepest corners of the lower decks needed to be addressed, ideally *before* the crisis happened.

"I'm sorry, what?" Ra'lin... She'd been scarce, buried up to her eyeballs in reports, and quiet. They'd all been quiet since Si'a had been kidnapped, more so since the mission to rescue her had been launched - but beyond that Rochelle hadn't thought much of it or allowed any further dark cloud to settle over her already darkened mood and thought process. Rochelle shifted her weight in her seat, uncrossing her legs and getting to her feet and heading towards the replicator. This was going to be interesting, take time. Tea was going to be needed and a pot of hot water was quickly replicated. "What has she done?"

"She appears to have reserved a small lounge on one of the lower decks as her personal office. I spoke to her briefly, and she expressed a desire to continue working out of that remote, isolated space for foreseeable future. It may be none of my business," the diplomat clarified, "so I decided my only action should be to apprise you of the situation."

"I see..." Rochelle's voice was soft and she offered little more than a nod to show she'd heard him at all. On one hand she wanted to afford her yeoman a degree of privacy, on the other there was the concern for a close friend... Family, really. "When..." She paused, clearing her throat, "When did you first notice this behavior?"

"When I hand-delivered a set of reports and requisitions yesterday. She seemed...off, somehow. You would know better than I, but a sudden retreat to the darkest corner of the ship indicates something sudden and emotional has happened. I didn't ask, and she didn't volunteer any information. Understandable, given the privacy she sought." said John, reaching the limits of supposition. Anything further would be a guess on his part, and he didn't feel close enough to the yeoman to be comfortable making assertions about her character. Nor did he have the right to disclose anything further, even if he did know anything about her situation. Which he didn't.

"Thank you for bringing this to my attention, Commander, I'll take a trip down there personally." Of course she would. Ra'lin had become more like family than she'd have ever imagined she could be. The thought of the other woman hiding and sulking over something rather than coming to hash it out left Rochelle a touch more than concerned and the idea of farming her out to a counselor without a second thought just didn't bode well. Nor should it. The Vindicator just didn't operate on nonchalance or lack of care.

"Yes ma'am." said the Commander, content that he had passed on the message he had intended to, and that action would be taken. There was little else he could do here, so he held position and waited patiently to be dismissed. The yeoman would either get kind words or a kick up the backside from the CO, and he honestly didn't know which one she needed more right now. Lacking knowledge of what she had been through, all he knew is that she'd turtled up.

"You're dismissed." Rochelle offered a small, appreciative smile. It wasn't until after he'd taken her leave that she hit her combadge, calling for both Almar and Ra'lin to appear.

---
Commodore Rochelle Ivanova
Commanding Officer
USS VINDICATOR, NX-78213-F


Lt Commander John Smith
Chief Diplomat
USS Vindicator

 

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