ASSIGNED TO TASK FORCE 37 OF PEGASUS FLEET
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The Voice of Rage and Ruin - Part 1

Posted on Wed Apr 8th, 2020 @ 7:54pm by Captain Abigail Laurens & Lieutenant Commander William Rogers
Edited on on Wed Apr 8th, 2020 @ 7:54pm

Mission: Dead Moon
Location: Observation Lounge

“Captain, it’s time.”

The voice of Lieutenant Rogers broke the stony silence on the bridge and Abigail almost started as a response. “Very well,” she said quietly. “Notify transporter room one to prepare for our guests. Lieutenant Rogers, you have the bridge… just… remember what I said.”

There was a hint of caution, almost warning as Abigail spoke the final words, yet the expression on Rogers’ face remained ever stoic as he nodded.

“Copy that.”


==/== Transporter Room ==\==

Straightening her uniform, and sweeping back stray hair from her face, Abigail steeled herself, straightening her back and putting a smile on her face. “Alright Ensign Noble, let’s get this over and done with. Energize.”

Within moments Admiral Lockwood materialized with two Starfleet officers on either side of him. On his right stood a short blocky tellarite man, his eyebrows as bushy as his whisker which encased his lips, he sported engineering colours. On Lockwood’s left stood a tall shrewd Vulcan female armed with a phaser at her hip. Lockwood instantly caught the Captain’s eye and smiled warmly, his eyes almost closed when he did, their corners wrinkled.

“Abigail! There she is!” His commanding voice bellowed as he stepped off the transport padd and walked toward her. His hands lifted and fell on her shoulders as he stood close to her. Her radiant beauty did not go unnoticed by him. “I can only imagine what you have been through, I can’t imagine the assignment I gave you was an easy one.” His fingers squeezed her shoulders ever so slightly. “How rude of me, this is my team, Lieutenant Commander T’Prinn and Lieutenant Gora bim Gral,” he motioned to the tellarite and vulcan respectively. The pair remained silent and only nodded as they stepped to his side again. Lockwood’s gaze returned to the Captain.

"It's a pleasure to see you again Admiral," Abigail responded, her voice equally warm and welcoming. "Commander, Lieutenant, lovely to meet you both," she nodded to each respectively before turning her attention back to the Admiral, her hand moving to rest over his on her shoulder. "If you care to join me Admiral, I've had one of my staff lay out some refreshments in the observation lounge for us. Your staff, of course, are welcome to join us. If they would prefer I can have one of my security guards escort them elsewhere in the ship. My apologies, we are unable to just let you roam freely at this point. We sustained damage travelling through the Charybdis sector and some parts of the ship are still affected by radiation, so for your own safety we do ask that you don't wander off on your own."

“Always the hostess,” he smiled again before he motioned to the Vulcan female. “Alright...T’Prinn will join us. As for Gral he might be able to help your repair crews. He’s only ever happy when you put him to work.” His tone was final yet riddle in jest. The Admiral walked with the Captain to the observation lounge with his security officer in tow. “The Charybdis Sector, hell… I hope you didn’t sustain too much damage onboard. I look forward to reading your report.”

There was a soft laugh as they moved through the corridor. "Ironically, Hell is what my crew called it. We went to Hell and lived to tell the tale." She shook her head slightly. "Most of the damage was sustained on the way back out. With the ship in tow our maneuverability was significantly impaired. But, it is what it is and my crew are ever diligent. I'm sure they'll have us back in shape in no time."

It was indeed a strange experience walking through the ship with the Admiral beside her. Seeing eyes widen at the recognition of his rank, bodies moving out of their path and stepping back to the walls, snapping to attention. In truth, it made her proud.

Even entering the Observation lounge involved a moment of ceremony, the young crewman immediately moving to the head of the table and pulling the seat out for the Admiral before standing rigidly behind it. Though it was the scene beyond the ship that was the most impressive. Smooth and sleek, riddled with mystery, the veritable holy grail that she knew he so desperately wanted.

"I'm afraid it's only replicated, our mess hall is out of service. Can I have Crewman Kirkland get either of you a drink?" she asked politely before looking toward the crewman. "I'll have my usual please, thank you Nairee."

Lockwood in the beginning, when he had accepted the rank of Admiral, would always make a point of telling everyone to ease up. He was never a fan of the salute, nor the rigid nature of Starfleet in which it represented, even though he always respected the rank. He would often make the joke that everyone needed to relax, if there had been a strong gust of wind they would all surely break in half. He no longer made these jokes, he no longer noticed the little things his rank meant to others, time had changed him, the rank had changed him, the bureaucracy of it all fluttered around in his head. If he was changed for better or worse that was yet to be seen. He took the seat offered to him.

“Well, I’m glad it is all behind you now. A steady head in the chair, the Astraea will be on point in a flash. And yes… Replicated will be due in a crunch. Anything will do. I should've known. I should have bought you a bottle of something. I don't suppose you'd turn a sip of Aldebaran Whiskey. We were known to throw back a few bottles in our day.” A slight laugh erupted in his belly as his eyebrow lifted playfully. Before long a crewman placed a glass at his fingertips. His security officer remained standing next to the door, his hands folded over her waist. She stood alert and ready for anything.

He took a deep sip, and washed it around in his mouth before swallowing. “Not terrible…” He shrugged as he placed the glass down and focused on the Captain now, the alien ship glistened in the corner of his eye.

Abigail glanced at the young crewman and nodded politely. Moments later, a glass of Aldebaran Whiskey was placed in front of Admiral Lockwood while a spiced chai latte was slid across the table in front of Abigail. "Thank you Nairee," the Commanding Officer said with a smile.

Watching as the crewman retreated to the corner of the room, Abigail picked up her mug and took a sip, turning her attention to the ship through the window. "I trust your journey here was uneventful?" Abigail finally asked as she turned her attention back to him. "No issues with the Romulans you were so concerned about?"

“No, no issues…” He was clearly ready to get down to business now. “So the ship. I saw it on the viewscreen before I beamed over, it is something right?” He finally glanced at it now and a grin curled the edge of his lips. He could have gone to the ship first; but, he wanted to see Abigail first, he just could not miss an opportunity to sit across from her, if only for a moment before speaking of the ship.

"It's not Romulan, but yes, it is definitely something." Abigail said quietly, aware that he present joviality was about to take a very dark turn and found herself wondering if there were any way she could delay the moment, even just a little bit longer.

Lockwood savoured the last sip of his drink and narrowed his eyes at her. “Clear the room…” His voice was soft but still carried the weight of his rank. His vulcan comrade was the first to slither through the swoosh of the doors. He waited for the remaining officer to vacate. He just looked at her as his tongue slowly flicked against his top incisors. “No not Romulan…” He didn’t take the good captain for a dummy.

The crewman paused for a moment, glancing at the Captain with uncertainty. "It's okay, thank you Nairee," Abigail reassured, watching as the young woman nodded and followed the Vulcan out of the room.

She turned in her chair, looking toward Admiral Lockwood, maintaining an outwardly calm demeanor as she leaned back in her seat. "You knew," she said simply.

“Let’s not get into who knew what and when. You know full well that I don’t make the rules. Starfleet has a pecking order, sure I might be a little higher up than you; but, even I feed from another’s hand.” The man sighed and took pause. “I can think of a million things I’d rather be doing now other than having this conversation with you Abigail.” His tone sweetened, “And after I hopped down off that transporter pad and saw you I can think of a few more.” He leaned back in his chair to match her demeanor, her calmness. “Let’s not get into it. I don’t want to get into it. Not here. Not now. Not with you.” He motioned his hand as if to dismiss any of her thoughts on the manner, as he kept rambling, “I’ll take the ship, you focus on your crew's well-being, get your ship repairs done and we can talk about this next week. After you get some time to decompress. You’ve been through a lot. Let’s have another drink...” His eyes really softened now, he provided her a way out, or maybe himself... he hoped she would take it...

"The ship is not salvage. It is the property of the Ts'usugi government. It is not my ship to hand over. I've already contacted the Ts'usugi and their people will be here within the hour," Abigail said quietly. "I'm sorry Admiral, but I can't give the ship to you."

A wrinkled formed on his forehead as anger washed over his face. His hands slammed down on the table in front of him. “Dammit! Dammit! Dammit!” Both fist beat against the table with each word, the glasses shook. “Augh…” He finally sputtered as he rose from his seat and kicked his chair back. He walked toward the observation window and turned his back to her. He stood now, his finger rose to touch his chin as if in thought for a moment. Finally he spoke, “I knew we would exchange words. I knew you there’d be fire… But I didn’t expect you to try to burn the whole house down. Dammit.” He squinted and eyed the ship for a moment before he turned to her again.

Abigail winced with each curse, each thump, each kick, though she held back from using her commbadge to call security. Instead she folded her hands firmly in her lap, and drew in a steady breath. "I'm sorry Admiral," she iterated again. "Would you like me to refresh your drink?" she offered, attempting to avoid responding directly to his statement.

A calmness returned to him as Lockwood gathered himself. “The drinking time is done Captain…” He walked toward her. “Lieutenant Commander T’Prinn will take command of the Astraea. The Astraea will accompany my ship back to Starbase 332 along with the alien ship. There will be disciplinary actions taken against you.” He raised his hand and pointed a finger at her, “Let’s not make this situation any more messy than it needs to. Don’t make me take your pins here and now. Don’t make a scene and we just might be able to salvage your career after this.”

"The ship has shields raised. It can't be boarded and it can't be tractored. As there are members of my crew on that ship, I am NOT going to be leaving until they are returned, which will be after the Ts'usugi arrive." Abigail pushed her chair back, holding her back straight and her head high. "I'm sorry Admiral, this situation is now out of my hands."


==/== To Be Continued ==\==

 

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