The Educational Direction Of The Phoenix
Posted on Oct 20, 2014 @ 12:10am by Ambassador Xana Bonviva
Edited on on Oct 20, 2014 @ 12:11am
Mission: Birth Of An Empire
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“The Educational Direction of the PHOENIX”
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“To the brave crew and passengers of the Kobayshi Maru…sucks to be you.”
-from Peter David’s Stone and Anvil
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Location: USS PHOENIX
SD: [2.14]1019.0036
Scene: Arboretum
A good Captain took inventory of the ship, understood not just the schematics, but lived it, breathed it. He understood the very being of it, every nacelle, every deck so that when (not *if*) someone or something struck he was prepared.
Michael Kane needed to be prepared. Unmoored from resources, en-route to what he was being told was a necessary destination this was a necessary exercise; nay it was as necessary as Crichton ensuring that primary systems were online or Dalziel validating that everyone was as psychologically fit.
Opening up the Arboretum, Kane had only intended to do a cursory pass through of this area when he heard a series of curses. “Mannaggia! Arod a yos!”
One Italian curse followed by, if he was not mistaken by one Bolian curse. If he were another man, he would have closed his green eyes in frustration or turned his Irish hide around; but this stubborn fool was not about to be done in by some some curses from across the way. Instead he straightened his jacket and walked across the way until he stood above the woman who was attempting to murder the roots of a Bajoran Jumja tree. Looking up at the tree itself, he wasn’t sure what to make of it.
“What are you doing to my tree?” he asked with a false blandness, the only indication of its falseness was the one dark eyebrow that was raised entirely too high.
Xana Bonviva narrowed her violet eyes as she sat back on her haunches. “Weeding and pruning,” she answered simply. To emphasize the point she threw down a series of weeds and branches away from the PADD on her left.
Michael Kane barely spared a glance for what was tossed down on the ground and then back at the sapling before looking at the woman. “You’re not a botanist.”
“Let me beat them all back with a stick,” Xana dryly pointed out. Looking around to the right, then the left, and seeing no one else in the bay she said, “Oh wait…”
Kane gave her a look that would have had a Kazon running for cover. “This is my ship.”
“I wasn’t on the Bridge,” Xana pointed out. “You made that clear - Bridge is all yours. You said nothing about Arboretum.”
Kane repressed the urge to inhale; this was the problem with former COs. And politicians. Damn it all, Madame Bitch of the Universe was both. She thought she knew everything; thankfully he knew better.
“I’m glad you’re here there’s something I wanted to talk to you about.”
No good conversation with Xana Bonviva *ever* started with that phrase.
“I’m a busy man,” Kane said as he turned on the ball of his foot.
“It’s about the PHOENIX school.”
Michael Turlough Kane was an intelligent man, one who had in his youth pestered adults with questions well beyond his years and questions whose answers that were not found in his primers. And yet, he studied harder, read more, looked up to the stars and found those answers. What he couldn’t find in texts he sought out from wise men and women and asked *them* until they unlocked their secrets to him.
Thus it was a rare thing for the Irishman to turn around, completely stumped. But that’s what he did and then he stared at the azure woman as if she had lost *her* mind. Truly that was the only possibility; because clearly if the PHOENIX had a school the bloody *CAPTAIN* would know about it which he didn’t, ergo the PHOENIX didn’t have a school.
Right?
“You’re looking at me like you don’t know what I’m talking about -- the PHOENIX’s school,” Xana continued on conversationally, as she shifted in the dirt unfolding her long legs.
Michael Kane meant what he told Benito earlier in the day, Jake Crichton was one of the best engineers he ever met but he was beginning to wonder about the man’s sanity for being married for *years* to this woman.
Dusting off the dirt from her legs from her dark pants she said, “Now I have a meeting later with Lt. Daziel and I’d like to come prepared of a listing of potential teachers. So what can I say you’ll be teaching?” Pulling over her PADD she tapped it a few times she said, “Security and Tactical? No I don’t think that would be good for younger students.”
Although blood was a great fertilizer, Kane was not going to kill Bonviva. Killing her over a *school* was not worth it.
“But Xenoculturial Studies? That would be great, I’d love to put you down for that. So I’m thinking--”
Killing her because she was volunteering him to babysit her ankle-biters -- entirely possible.
“I recognize your children are in need of guidance and educational direction but I am the *Captain* of the entire ship,” Kane snapped.
“A ship which includes 22 minors,” Bonviva pointed out as if this was a well-known fact.
“How many children do you have?” the Captain asked aghast.
“Three!” the Bolian/Human snapped. “I’m not trying to repopulate the universe. But that means you -- *Captain* -- have another nineteen other minors who need guidance and direction. Who need to be taught why we’re doing this. Who need to be taught the importance of stratagem and xenocultural studies and biology and philosophy and art and poetry and everything else *we* learned. And someone has to teach them. So who’s it going to be?”
Kane gave her a look. “Why not *you*?” He looked to the Jumja tree then looked back into her violet eyes, his meaning clear. It was clear -- she had *nothing* else to do on the ship, or anywhere else.
It wasn’t like that thought hadn’t occurred to her this morning. Or last night. Or the hours in between. She had nothing to do; still the answer kept coming back to the same thing. “I’m a mother to three of them, as I just pointed out,” Xana sighed. Rubbing her face, she admitted in a raw moment of true honesty, “I’d throw the curve, even if I didn’t mean to.” Shaking her head she said, “It wouldn’t be fair.” There was a long pause as she said, “I’ll help but I can’t be a teacher when some of the population live with me.”
Twenty-two little buggers. Bloody hell. “Where did they all come from?” Kane asked raggedly.
Xana Bonviva gave Michael Turlough Kane a glare worthy of Delta IV. “Sex, Michael, people had sex until a baby popped out. Sometimes they kept doing it because it felt good another baby popped out.”
Kane gave her a look, a look that spoke volumes about the hows and whys of killing women - civility be damned. “I’m *trying* to help you.”
Holding up her hands in the air she admitted, “What do you want me to say? I don’t know what kind of answer to give you. What do you mean, where did they come from? I can only answer that for my kids, and quite frankly I don’t think you want to know that much about *my* life, do you? I don’t want you to know that much about me.”
There was a long uncomfortable silence in the Arboretum as Kane considered the woman for a long time before asking, “Why Daziel?” When the woman gave him a confused look he clarified, “You mentioned going to my CNS, why?”
It was a fair question. A fair, logical question. One which she couldn’t flippantly throw off. Damn it. “Typically schooling on units falls under the jurisdiction of Counseling Centers. I have an appointment with her at 1420,” Xana explained.
“Really? Counseling Centers?” Kane asked as if this was new to him.
Actually it probably was, Xana realized. The man didn’t have kids, and Xana doubted most people brought their childcare problems to him. She didn’t care what he thought about it so the she simply nodded. “Gene was a teacher long before he became a father,” Bonviva admitted. “It was something he enjoyed. Even after he became Command, he still tried to teach. I used to tease him he enjoyed the captive audience. He used to joke that he just did it for the field trips.” Shrugging she said, “Not all Counselors get that involved. Phia was the principal of the school on her ship. She saw her job more as recruiting for teaching. But she got almost all of the staff, who weren’t parents, to teach. However, on most units, yes, counseling and education have gone together. There are studies showing the positive impact this has on the students and how the stabilizing of the curriculum across the Fleet has helped both children and morale of the units.”
“Because the parents worried less so they could focus on their duties,” Kane nodded. Exhaling he admitted as he shifted his weight across his feet, “I could see that if we were fully staffed. But we’re not; we only have 2 Counselors. Although we’re not at full capacity, that’s far from the ratio we should be at.”
There was a long pause again. “You want me to cancel my meeting with Daziel,” Xana said quietly understanding the implication he was driving her to.
Ordering her was useless, he knew that. “What would you do if it were your ship?” he asked appealing to her ego, hoping the gamble worked.
Bonviva blinked her violet eyes, clearly surprised. Seconds ticked by before she admitted a hard truth that she rarely spoke, and one that she scarcely believe she was about to say to Kane. “I will tell you something. I loved being CO of the GATEWAY, but I became CO of the THE MCINNIS for the wrong reasons and I...well I wasn’t very good and...quite frankly I hated it. I made terrible choices.” Smiling wryly she said, “There’s nothing to suggest I wouldn’t make the same wrong choices again if placed in the chair.” Standing up she dusted herself off. “I think you made yourself clear what direction you want for Counseling, or at least don’t want.”
Running a hand through her hair she said, “Computer, cancel my appointment with Counselor Daziel at 1420 today.”
[[Appointment cancelled.]]
Kane nodded; he appreciated her giving in on this. He needed Daziel focused on the crew’s needs not on the children of the ship. “What will you do?” he asked.
Bonviva picked up her weeding and pruning and the PADD, “Recycle my weeding and pruning. Pick up my kids from the field trip adventure I sent them off on. Figure out if there are any educational databases I can download.” Shrugging she admitted, “We’ll wing it.” When Kane looked at her, Bonviva promised, “Away from the Bridge and Arboretum and other crew areas. I’ll figure out something. Just give me a little time, this was unexpected.”
As she walked towards the Arboretum's doors, Kane felt compelled to admit, “We have a complete database.” When she turned around he said, “While we’re cut off now from resources of the Federation, we were able to download everything before we left. That should keep...the minors....occupied for sometime.”
A small smile graced Xana’s lips. “Thank you.” Biting her lip she asked, “I have a personal favor to ask.”
Kane nearly groaned. “Yes?” he managed to get out, instead of saying “Another one?” like he wanted to.
“Phia and I have family on BOLARUS IX,” Xana explained softly and decided to leave it at that.
The Irish CO nodded; that was not as unexpected upon reflection. “I haven’t heard anything,” he admitted. “I will let you know if I do.”
The azure woman exhaled then left left, true to her word dropping off her recycling first.
Kane looked at the Jumja tree sapling that Bonviva had been weeding and pruning. Much like when he came in, he still wasn’t sure what to make of it.
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NRPG: Well you know I figured most people have this urge to want to kill Xana. Kane is one of the few who really shows it. But even then they have to grow up. Also to avoid the precocious kid thing that ST has I added plot moppets aka kids to the ship. And...you’re welcome :)
Jerome: I think this is evolution from the last time they had a conversation. Let me know what you think.
Susan: You’re off the hook for teaching! ;)
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Sarah Albertini-Bond
Xana Bonviva
USS PHOENIX
