Oversight
Posted on Oct 14, 2015 @ 3:04am by Commander Jacob Crichton
Edited on on Oct 14, 2015 @ 3:05am
Mission: Civil War
= Oversight =
(cont'd from "Subplots and Scheming")
LOCATION: USS PHOENIX
SCENE: CEO's Office, Main Engineering
STARDATE: [2.15] 1013.1945
Chaucer stood with his trademark stillness opposite the desk where Jake was sitting. The Gorn's yellow eyes had fixed on the object that Jake had just slid across the desktop: a Starfleet communicator badge. It's golden delta caught the light just right as it moved across the desk, seeming to wink up at Chaucer, promising the peace he'd always wanted. It was a lie, Chaucer knew - Jake had been honest enough to tell him about the war that probably awaited them in the coming days - but even so, the temptation was too much for the Gorn to resist. Chaucer slowly reached out a clawed hand to close around the comm-badge.
From his chair behind the desk, Jake Crichton was reading in a disinterested monotone from a PADD: "And on this stardate, I, Commander Jake Crichton, acting under special dispensation from Captain Michael Turlogh Kane, and Secretaries P'Trell and Sardak, and in the name of the Federation government-in-exile, grant you the field-commission rank of Ensign, along with all the rights and privileges that accompany it. By accepting this rank, you agree to discharge the duties required of your position, and to follow all legitimate orders given to you by your commanding officers, to the best of your ability, yadda yadda yadda, blah blah blah..."
Chaucer flicked his eyes away from the golden delta and looked at Jake.
"It just kind of goes on like that," Jake said, waving a hand at the PADD dismissively before sliding it aside. "I'll level with you, Chaucer: you take this job, you're gonna work hard, you're gonna be in danger, and you're gonna have a whole lot of people counting on you to get it right under pressure. I think you're up for it, or I wouldn't have made the offer. But I can't guarantee this doesn't end with you dead or locked up for a real long time. All I can say is you'd be welcome, and we need you. But the choice is yours."
Chaucer looked back down at the comm-badge. He wasn't sure it would be much use to him in his work, given his inability to speak, but he was not oblivious to what the device represented. Responsibility. Accountability. But also, and perhaps most important, connection. He would become part of a greater whole, and expected to give of himself to protect it. He wasn't sure how he felt about the Federation's ideals, or what little he knew of them, but he'd seen enough of this crew to know they put the ship first. Sacrifice for others was championed in Gorn culture as well, of course, but mostly of the martial variety. Gorn warriors would go gladly to glorious deaths if it served some greater purpose. Chaucer had never been much of a fighter, but he knew that glory was not won exclusively by warriors. There was purpose here, the chance to toil in service to ideas greater than oneself. After years of mostly aimless living on LIMBO, Chaucer found that thought very appealing.
The Gorn reached out to activate his Vox.
[[Yes,]] the unit buzzed.
Jake Crichton nodded once. "Good. Don't worry about the uniform for now. We don't have one that will fit you, and there's other things to worry about than passing a surprise inspection. You've been assigned quarters on deck 3, and I have your name in the duty roster already. Word is, we're finally getting some relief from rest of the fleet, but it's gonna be a day or two to get them here, and I don't think we can afford to wait."
[[Yes,]] Chaucer's Vox buzzed.
"I'm glad you agree," Jake said. He stood up, and extended a hand. "I'm glad to have you aboard, Ensign."
Chaucer eyed the human's proffered hand for a moment before recognizing the ritual that Jake was trying to initiate. He reached, his scaled hand enveloping Jake's, and gripped firmly. They shook once, then Jake came around from behind the desk to walk with Chaucer to the door.
"I'll show you around," Jake said, stepping through into Main Engineering proper. It was still understaffed, but the assembled crew seemed to move with renewed vigor. Whether it was the shore leave on E-4 or the promise of reinforcements, Jake wasn't sure, but he was glad to see the effect it had had on everyone. Jake spotted Rochemonte and Maynell, standing near the holographic master systems display. Rochemonte was walking Maynell through her plan for improving the PHOENIX's deflector shields, in anticipation of the coming war.
"All we need to do is reconfigure the transmission grids to my specifications," Cindy said, calling up a holographic image of the PHOENIX to hover over the display. A few deft motions of her fingers shifted the image to show the shield generator transmission grids, arrayed on the dorsal and ventral sides of the ship's saucer. The highlighted grids began blinking an optimistic green. "That will boost generator capacity by at least 3%."
"That isn't much," Maynell said, sounding pessimistic.
"It isn't *nothing*," Cindy said. "We'll be glad for the extra protection if this turns into... what we're all worried it's going to."
"Lieutenant, this isn't some emergency patch job you're suggesting," Maynell countered. "You're going to need to cut into the hull just to access the components you'll be upgrading."
"So what?" Cindy frowned.
"So we're supposed to be fixing the ship, not cutting into its ablative armor."
"It's a few hours spacewalk, Jonathan. And it could make the difference."
"We don't have time-" Maynell started, but he spotted Jake and Chaucer approaching and quickly straightened up and nodded to them both in turn. "Commander. Mr. Chaucer."
"That's Ensign now," Jake said, tapping the comm-badge that Chaucer had affixed to the front of his grey shirt. "Rank pip's in the mail, but Chaucer's part of the team."
Maynell didn't look thrilled that a former mutineer had been given a commission, but he was a good sport about it. He nodded again to Chaucer. "Congratulations. We're glad for the help."
"You deserve it," Cindy chimed in, smiling warmly at the Gorn.
[[My name is Chaucer,]] Chaucer's Vox said. Chaucer hoped it came off as enthusiastic.
"Now that we're one big happy family, why don't you fill me in on what's going on here?" Jake said, pointing with his chin towards the holodisplay of the PHOENIX.
"Lt. Rochemonte has a plan to improve our shields," Maynell said. "But with respect, sir, I don't think we can spare the resources to attempt this-"
"If Specs says it'll work, it'll work," Jake said. He looked at Cindy, "What's your plan?"
Cindy gave him the short version, rattling off the calculations as though she'd said them a hundred times before. Chaucer tried his best to follow along. He got most of it, of course, but there was still a lot of jargon he wasn't used to. He could tell it would be some doing getting his feet under him.
Jake listened to it all, nodding along with the ideas he liked. When Cindy had finished, Jake screwed his face up as he considered it.
"Maynell's right," he said finally. "3% won't cut it."
"But Jake," Cindy started. "I know I could--"
"Make it 10%," Jake interrupted. "Only way to justify the overtime."
"10%?" Cindy repeated. "Jake, 3% is impressive enough without taking the ship in for a complete refit of its deflector grid system."
"And it buys us, what, a few ricochets?" Jake asked. "A glancing blow, maybe? I have a feeling there aren't going to be many of those going around once the fighting starts. We need to be able to take both barrels and still be standing. 10% isn't going to make us invincible, but it's enough to keep us in the fight awhile longer."
"Sir, that kind of work could take weeks," Maynell protested. "Meanwhile, we still have work orders piling up for all our routine maintenance, not to mention getting on top of the leftover damage from the riot and the Amaterasu."
"We have reinforcements coming," Jake said. "We'll be in fighting shape. But I want this shield improvement. We need every advantage we can get."
"I'll have to go over my calculations again," Cindy said. "Maybe I can find a way to reduce frequency drift between oscillations--"
[[Help.]]
The three human officers stopped, and glanced at Chaucer. The Gorn was looking at the holodisplay. As they watched, Chaucer stepped forward. He tried to manipulate the display, but he wasn't very familiar with holographic interfaces, and it took him a minute to get his bearings. Finally, Cindy stepped forward to assist, and with her help Chaucer was able to highlight the shield generators built into the hull. The generators fed power to the deflector grid, and could be activated individually or in phase-lock to dramatically improve shield strength. Chaucer quickly entered a set of operational parameters for the generator system, taking the improvements that Cindy had suggested and improving them. The predicted shield output increased from 3% to 6%. It wasn't the 10% that Jake had wanted, but it was a step in the right direction.
"Mon dieu," Cindy said, her eyes widening as she realized what Chaucer was proposing. "Why didn't I think of that?"
Maynell took a look at the calculations and raised his eyebrows in surprise. "That... could work," he said.
"Look at you all, functioning together like good little worker bees," Jake said with a grin. "Specs, I want you and the big guy here on this project round the clock. You get me that 10%."
"Aye sir," Cindy said.
"Ensign Maynell, I can trust you to coordinate normal diagnostics and maintenance," Jake said. It wasn't a question, and Maynell appreciated that. He nodded.
"You can," Maynell said.
"Good," Jake said. "Help's on the way, guys. Just another day or two and we won't be short-staffed. But we can't afford to forget what's coming."
=[/\]=
SCENE: Corridor -> Turbolift
TIME INDEX: A few hours later
Finally off-duty (though he'd stayed an extra two hours anyway), Jake Crichton stood outside the turbolift doors, eager to get home and see his kids. The doors finally parted and Jake stepped in, to find that Russ BaShen was already there. The FCO nodded and stepped aside to make room for Jake.
"Deck 2," Jake said. The turbolift chimed in reply and started to move.
"Busy day?" Russ asked, trying to suppress a grin and not quite succeeding.
"Haha," Jake said mirthlessly.
"Oh, I know how you feel," Russ continued. "Lots to do up on the bridge. I had to monitor our orbit, for example."
"Uh huh," Jake said.
"Make sure it wasn't decaying," Russ continued. "Make sure our path was clear of any debris..."
"Uh huh."
"Yep, we're busy as can be upstairs," Russ said, with a theatrical yawn. "But I guess you wouldn't know anything about working for a living, would you?"
"Pilots," Jake muttered. "You're all the same."
"No, I'm much more charming than most of them," Russ corrected. "Handsome, too."
"And annoying," Jake said, but he smiled as he said it. Russ's face finally broke into a grin.
"Seriously, though," the FCO said. "You're not working yourself to death, are you?"
"Just about," Jake said with a chuckle. "But it's only for a few more days. Then we get relief from the other starships."
"Oh, good," Russ said. "For a minute, I was worried that you meant 'Edgerton's flunkies will show up in a few more days to blast us all out of the sky'."
"I haven't discounted that possibility either," Jake said, his smile fading. "But if it comes to that, we'll be ready."
"You heard what Sardak and P'trell suggested?" Russ asked.
"That they should be named the new leaders of the Federation?" Jake asked. "Yeah, the buzz has been going around."
"Bad idea if you ask me," Russ said. "We got into this mess because someone decided to promote themselves. I don't think we ought to rush headlong into that mistake again."
"We need someone in charge," Jake said. "Should be civilian. Stafleet's military, sure, but our primary mission has always been discovery, in keeping with the Federation's ideals."
"That was before a military junta blew up the capitol," Russ said. "Edgerton's one of ours, let us deal with him."
"Oversight's important," Jake said. "Look how many people Edgerton has killed just trying to get rid of it."
"So instead of absolute power resting with the military, you want it resting with P'trell and Sardak?"
"I'd like to see a vote," Jake shrugged. "Last I checked, we're all still Federation citizens. But these are extenuating circumstances, and the line of succession seems clear enough to me, at least until we're out of this mess."
"And what if they decide we should surrender?" Russ asked. "Are you going to follow them into that decision?"
Jake's smile finally crept back, though it was of a much wearier variety. "I very much doubt Edgerton will accept our surrender in any case."
Russ considered this, then shrugged. "Point."
The turbolift slid to a stop, and the doors parted. Russ stepped towards the exit. He stopped at the threshold, and glanced back at Jake.
"You think we need to be accountable to someone," he said.
"Yeah," Jake nodded. "I guess that's about right."
"I can see your point," Russ said. "If it comes to a fight, we don't want a dozen or more captains deciding for themselves how best to win a war. Who's to say they don't start torturing captives, or run some kind of doomsday scheme that puts all those refugees down on E-4 in danger?"
"I agree," Jake said.
"Then again..." Russ said. "If it comes down to all of us getting captured or killed, and the Federation along with us, or making those kinds of hard choices... who do you want making them? P'trell and Sardak? Or Captain Kane?"
The question hung ominously in the air between them for another moment. Jake found he didn't have an easy answer to that question. Russ finally turned and disappeared into the corridor, and as the turbolift doors swished shut, Jake found himself worrying about what was to come.
=[/\]=
NRPG: Jake's take on the election. And Chaucer's a full-fledged part of the crew now, too!
TAG EVERYONE!
Shawn Putnam
a.k.a.
Jake Crichton
Chief Engineering Officer
USS PHOENIX