The Bow into the Waves

Posted on Fri Jul 26th, 2019 @ 4:45am by Captain Abigail Laurens & Master Chief Petty Officer Hans-Peter König

Mission: War and Peacekeeping
Location: Captain's Ready Room

The rumors started to go around the ship immediately. König was a little annoyed that he found out about the situation primarily through rumors and whisperings in the corridors. He wasn't annoyed at the Skipper. He was annoyed at himself that he hadn't been watching ship operations more closely so he would be in the know ahead of the rumors. He hadn't become used to the access privileges a member of the ship's command staff had to Starship Operations but that was an excuse. As he would tell his candidates in SOD school, excuses were like assholes: everybody's got one and they all smell like shit.

He was also scared. He had danced this dance before. The happiest years of his life were his time spent at SOD school. He was dedicated to equipping operators with the tools needed to survive but he was also grateful that he was done with those tools himself. He had thought he had passed the torch off. The Chief took a few moments in his quarters to compose himself. Fear will keep you and your team alive if used properly.

Once he was back to his old grumpy self he decided to make his way to the Captain's office. His intuition told him that she was going to need him on hand for the preparations that were about to take place. At length he found his way to the Ready Room. He nodded at the guards that had been emplaced there and they rendered the proper C&C to the Chief of Boat Good job, Lt Matashi. I owe you a cookie. König tapped on the door chime.

Abigail stood at the view port, her back to the door as she stared out at the stars beyond. Her hands, instead of being wrapped around her usual mug of chai latte, were clasped firmly behind her back, even her usual easy going demeanor had been replaced with a steely calm. "Enter," she called quietly, not breaking her view away from what lay beyond the ship.

König picked up on the change in the Skipper's general disposition as soon as he was through the doors. He stopped just inside the Ready Room and waited for the doors to close behind him.

"Everything alright, ma'am?"

"We need to call a senior staff meeting, have everyone in the briefing room in two hours," Abigail replied quietly. "We're on our way to rendezvous with the Zendaya to retrieve the rest of the Trions." The rest of the statement was left unsaid.

Finally, after a long moment of silence she turned to face him.
"I've spoken to most of the senior staff individually but we need to get everyone together to make sure we all have the same expectations."

He knew it was coming but that knowledge wasn't quite enough preparation for when the other shoe fell. König almost lost his composure. He almost blurted out Has the Admiralty lost their fucking minds? He didn't and that itself was an exercise in self control.

War is controlled violence, for a purpose, an instructor had once taught König early in his career, It's never a soldier's business to decide when or where or how--or why--he fights; that belongs to the statesmen and the generals... We supply the violence; other people--'older and wiser heads,' as they say--supply the control. It turns out the instructor was quoting a 20th Century author but either way the lesson stuck in König. As much as the 'older and wiser heads' seemed like they weren't being particularly wise, the decision was still above his pay grade. His oath was to obey the lawful orders of the officers appointed over him, even the dumb ones.

"I'll circle the wagons, ma'am," König replied to the Skipper, "What else do you need me to do to get us ready for this?"

Abigail paused as if she were contemplating her words. "You've been around and about long enough to know when something's rotten, what do you make of this situation?" she asked quietly. "Speak freely, I'm not going to hold it against you."

"I don't know if it's a trap," König answered, addressing what he presumed to be the immediate question on the CO's mind, "But considering the parties involved, we'd be foolish to believe that there won't be some kind of violence aboard Astraea before we get to Trion 8. If we're lucky none of our people will get killed in the process. Pardon my cynicism, ma'am, but I don't think that's very likely."

That answered her immediate question. However, she had told him to speak freely and it was only fair to the Skipper that she knew exactly how he felt about the whole matter, "If you want my honest opinion: this is typical of Federation arrogance. Trion 8 isn't our problem and we shouldn't be as involved as we are. If they want a mediator, fine, but it should have been on their soil not on one of our Starbases. If Zendaya is out of commission then we should be making the other delegation sit there and wait for another taxi even if Astraea is the closest ship. Or, at the very least, make them wait until we drop off our current guests and can go back for them.

"Instead, the Admiralty has ordered us to take an unnecessary risk. They either think the situation isn't as volatile as it is, that we're invincible, or that it's worth sacrificing our lives to a fight that's none of our goddamn business to begin with. The powers that be are either ignorant or negligent."

König took a deep breath. He was a little more worked up than he cared to be. "But I'm just a Chief, ma'am. My opinion doesn't really matter in the grand scheme of things. We're in the storm now. The only way to not sink is to turn the bow into the waves and ride it out."

"Thank you Master Chief," Abigail said quietly with a solemn nod. "Get the senior staff together. We may as well make sure we're as well prepared as we can be before we throw ourselves into the fire. Have Commander Gail prepare the briefing room while you assemble the crew..." She started to turn back toward the window, before pausing for a moment. "Thank you," she said quietly. "I appreciate your honesty."

"Yes, ma'am," König replied. There was nothing else to say and he had a job to do, so he excused himself from the ready room.