The New Boss

Posted on Thu Nov 26th, 2015 @ 8:34am by Captain Charybdis MacGregor & Captain Patrick O'Connor
Edited on on Tue Dec 29th, 2015 @ 6:34am

0 words; about a 1 minute read

Mission: Taking Chances
Location: USS Bonne Chance, Deck One, Captain's Ready Room
Timeline: 2265
Tags: Patrick,1stlove

Curious and curioser.

When command of the ship had fallen to her, she had done her duty and searched for survivors... and then she had contacted Starfleet for orders. And when they had come through, ordering her to bring the vessel to Starbase, she had a few moments of very difficult internal debate.

She knew that this was an opportunity that might never come again. She held the ship, with a skeleton crew. As captain, pilot and navigator it would be relatively simple to guide the great ship home and hold the Bridge until she was intercepted, then she would receive a hero's welcome. She would make the General proud, bring unknowable honor to her house and bring a strength to the Empire unlike any heroine in thousands of years. It was her mission, and she would have fulfilled it beyond anyone's wildest expectations.

But Doctor McKenzie had saved her from being another victim of the phenomenon that claimed so many others... not in some ephemeral, intangible way, but directly and deliberately. He had deduced the cause of the disappearances and he had saved her specifically so that she could help him save them all, then only after having accomplished his heroism had he fallen prey to his frailty.

He had saved her, and in turn had entrusted her with his own life, and the lives of the surviving crew. She knew what fate would befall them should she do her duty... and in that moment of decision, she had rationalized that this was not the right time.

She knew that she was lying to herself, of course. But she could not repay Doctor McKenzie's heroism with betrayal and a fate worse than death. The Deltan Doctor with his sense of humor and infectious smile had personally saved her and given her the opportunity to prove what she could do, even more than Commander Matthews had aboard the Antares.

He was her friend, she had realized with a smile, and she simply did not have the capacity to destroy him for entrusting his fate to her care.

There would be other opportunities later, she rationalized, and she would continue to do her duty as she saw fit.

In the meanwhile, it was time to meet her new Captain, and see just what sort of man he was, and what she could expect from him...



The chime sounded at the door to the Captain's Ready Room. He walked to the door and hit the control to open it. Lieutenant Charybdis entered, carrying a pdd. She stopped short of the captain's desk and came to attention, a bit of residual bounce left in her frame from the sudden stop.

"Lieutenant Charybdis reporting, sir. I would like to submit these commendation recommendations... as per article one hundred ninety-seven of the SCMJ rules and regulations, while acting as commander of the Bonne Chance those obeying my commands were subordinate to me, thus they were lawfully under my command as the ranking officer. As such, I feel that their meritorious actions should not be overlooked because 'some up in the ranks want somebody held responsible for the loss of so many'. These are my recommendations, Captain." With that, she put forward a red data card.

Patrick gave a slight chuckle. She had been so stalwart in her execution of protocol that she hadn't even noticed he was behind her at the door still. Not that he minded, the view from behind was nearly as great as the view from the front. "At ease Lieutenant. I have read your reports, seen your initial recommendations, and heard quite a bit about you and what ought to be done by several admirals and a dozen or so other officers." The Irishman slowly made his way past her and around to his seat behind his desk, taking a long moment as he passed her to take in the intoxicating aroma that he assumed was a mix of her natural scent and perfume. He collect his wits as he turned and sat down, gesturing for her to do the same. "You are an interesting commodity, Lieutenant. Most people, even Vulcans, would have been satisfied with the fact that all charges had been dismissed. But not you. I wonder why?"

The new second officer slid the data disc across his desk, then eased herself into the offered chair and sank down into it slowly, balancing herself easily as she went... she definitely didn't unceremoniously drop her weight just anywhere. She crossed her legs demurely and eyed him for a few seconds, then raised her left eyebrow and half-smiled on the left side of her mouth, a crooked affair that looked more like a smirk than anything else. He got the distinct impression that he was going to be seeing a lot of that look. Her right arm rested on the armrest of the chair, and her fingertips brushed her temple.

"Permission to speak freely, sir?" she asked in a soft and velvety voice, completely unlike the professional demeanor of a mere moment ago.

"By all means."

"It's a fair question, Captain. And deserves a fair answer. As I said... they were under my command. If there was protocol broken... which, let's be realistic for a moment- was there, really? No senior officers were present, and by the time the senior staff got down to Doctor McKenzie, it could be argued that we were mutineers... save that there were no ranking officers above us aboard or able to be contacted at that point, and in no way did we act selfishly or out of any motivation other than duty. Contacting Starfleet from within the anomaly would have been pointless, as it would likely have fed us misinformation. Were we actually court martialable? I think not. But I allowed for the possibility and expected it all the same... we pulled forty percent of the crew out of that anomaly, and all because McKenzie and I were self motivated and worked together. If we were command, we could have been commended. As science division, we were graciously not court martialed."

"So I feel that those under my command who demonstrated exemplary bravery and gallantry should be recognized. I am in no position to grant such awards... however, you are. Thus I lose nothing by making my case and submitting it to you, Captain. If you choose to recognize them, then they will feel rewarded for their meritorious service. If not, then..." the pointy-eared temptress shrugged slowly, releasing it with a smile and clasping her hands to her knee.

"Bit of a spitfire I see? You certainly are ready and willing to put forward your two cents, just like Suval noted in his report." He noticed her eyes flash and her expression harden a bit at the mention of Suval's name- apparently that was still a sore spot. "Yet, despite that, you intrigue the hell out of me, if you will pardon the language. I'd love to accept your recommendation, even more so be happy to pin the medals to your, er, chest, but um, the problem is, medals aren't in the cards this time around." He turned and walked over to a small table where he had four glasses and a few bottles resting. He took hold of a glass and then one of the bottles and poured himself a drink. He took a sip.

"Honestly, I think you all did one heck of a job, but I am just one man, and no stars adorn my uniform just yet. I certainly pulled in a few favors to keep the crew intact, I got no problem putting that forward. Most thought it foolhardy for me to risk so much for people I have never met, but I have learned a few things from both my Vulcan and Andorian friends over the years, something a lot of humans have forgotten. Sometimes you have to take a big risk if you want a big reward. Andorians understand that, and so do Vulcans, despite that logical wall they put up. I am betting that you and the other senior officers aboard are going to help me in ways that the Federation never dreamed possible." He looked directly at the woman, gazing deeply into her eyes. "This is a special ship, with a special crew. I am certain that greatness is where we are headed, but it won't come easy, and nobody is going to hand us anything."

He moved to sit down, then stopped short and looked back again at her. "I totally forgot my manners. Would you care for a glass? It is Vulcan Spice Tea."

"Please and thank you," she replied with a small prim smile, before she began speaking again in that voice that reminded him somehow of a tiger stalking its prey in the jungle.

"Honesty... if there is one trait that a commander must have to earn respect from his crew, it is honesty. To be any sort of a man, really... for when a man lies, in whatever capacity, he murders some part of the world, it is said. Curious that I've such a reputation already... I was the terror of the Academy for a few years, then I had a very minor posting on an obscure and antiquated vessel. And I've been aboard the Bonne Chance for a week, and already I've admirals astir... be still my beating heart." She smiled coyly at him, then her eyes shifted... or more appropriately, what was behind them shifted as she eased slowly out of her seat. It was a subtle shift, but he caught it. Though her voice was still soft and warm- this was not the tone of an argument, far from it.

"You admit that you cannot reward them, express your admiration and put forth that you are taking a risk with this crew... and all of that's quite true, as in the spirit of your Las Vegas. It is called gambling because it is just that... no risk, no reward. The greater the risk," she had slowly closed the distance between them, and now she stood just within his personal space... which was closer than most given her considerable attributes. She stood looking him nearly eye to eye... he hadn't realized just quite how tall she stood until this moment when she came this close.

She took the offered glass from his hand and looked up at him from under those sharply arched brows. "The greater the reward," she finished with a sly smile. When she spoke, her voice was even softer, nearly a whisper, and her words were unhurried and calm.

"Honesty. I can appreciate honesty, Captain, and in being frank in this with me, you have earned respect. No rationalizations, no argument of the situation, no legal semantics or blustery defense of your command, simply an admission that it is beyond your power to grant. That I can respect." She sipped her tea and looked up at him, violet eyes large and bright.

"Perhaps there will be another opportunity for you to pin something to my... chest," she said as she inhaled slowly with a grin that could generously be described as playful. But given their proximity and the atmosphere of the room, most men would just call it downright wicked.

Patrick could feel his heart aflutter. This Vulcan... no, she was more than that, this woman, she was like nothing he could have imagined. She was obviously flirting with him, and that would be the nicest way of putting it. She was like a Nymph from ancient Earth, mixed with the sultry Siren songs that she was singing to him at this moment. If ancient mythology were any indication, he ought to turn back now to advert disaster. Oh, but the fiery passion that might ensue should he give in to his baser desires with this beautiful buxom babe might just be worth the agony.

Surely the legends said that many a man took great pleasure with their brief encounters with Aphrodite, and even more, she did in fact finally choose a lifemate once she found one of suitable physical and mental requirements. Patrick thought of himself as such a man, one who could woo even the most chaste maiden from her vows and provide her with levels of pleasure and desire that only ancient tales made seem possible.

And yet, through of that, he still had to be the Captain. Being a playboy was fine when he was just an engineer, even fine when he was on his off hours, but right now, despite the sexual tension, despite the innuendo and risque talk by both, he still had to be the Captain. Damn that little voice in his head reminding him of that. The passion he might find otherwise would surely be greater than he might imagine. And so he returned the smile to her, one in which she could see was born both of pleasure and anguish. In his eyes she could see the battle raging between desire and responsibility.

He fought off the urge to kiss her and stepped gingerly past her, obviously trying to put a touch of distance between them so as to regain control over his own emotions and to redirect the course of the conversation back to business, in hopes of quelling the amorous feelings that were trying to boil over in him.

"I think you and I will have a very good, um," he searched for a word that was neutral, "...association. You certainly have the makings of a fine officer." He sat and swallowed his tea, wishing it were something stronger in hopes that he might find serenity once more. It was a rare feat indeed for anyone to make him so befuddled as he was, though he had to admit that in some ways, he rather enjoyed it.

She let him pass without incident, then slid sinuously back to perch in a somewhat gravity-defying pose on the armrest of the chair opposite his desk, one hand on the back of the chair with her legs crossed and tucked demurely. "You've no idea what I'm capable of yet, O Captain, My Captain. But you will... in time." Where tenses were placed on words in sentences could be as significant as the words themselves, and where she had placed those tenses was not lost on him. She ran her finger around the edge of her glass, then set it down on his desk unfinished, her eyes locking with his own.

No symbolism there, no sir.

Silently she rose and made her way to the door, hips undulating with a slow and lazy grace until she stopped precisely shy of where the door sensor would notice her and open the door- apparently she had that tolerance calculated. She twisted at the waist, causing her uniform to ride up in a way that Starfleet designers never intended... but apparently they did not have her anatomy in mind when they created these infernal distraction generators. Looking back at him, she smiled sweetly with both brows raised and a doe-eyed look on her face while she gingerly held out her hand.

"May I be dismissed, Captain...?"

Her look at this point was risque to put it mildly. Flirtations were abound, both sides playing that most ancient of games between the sexes. Her voice, floating in the air like rose petals in a gentle summer breeze, was tempting him, beckoning him to give in to his desires. Humans were known for being creatures of passion, a species that took to things with a devotion that could rival the most logical Vulcan or battle tested Klingon. But was Patrick so resolved for such passion just this moment?

He stared at her, the savage nature of his species peaking through, as he took in a full visual of his prey. His higher senses were leaving him, judgment was being impaired, and desire was filling him like a warp reactor readying for a breach. He had one chance to either act or refrain, and things were definitely looking more along the lines of action than refrain.

A slight tremble in his voice, he spoke softly, "Dismissed lieutenant."

He watched as she sashayed out of the room, and let out a long audible sigh as the door swished closed. He stumbled back over to his drinking table, grabbed a bottle of Andorian brandy and took a rather liberal hit from it. He could feel that he was totally out of sorts, a feeling he had felt only once before in his life, the first time he met sweet Molly Malone. He was going to need several more bottles this evening once his duty shift was complete.

 

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