Previous Next


Posted on May 26, 2014 @ 9:56pm by Lieutenant Russ BaShen & Captain Kassandra Thytos
Edited on on Jun 05, 2014 @ 8:52am

Mission: All Our Yesterdays
Tags: Kass, Russ, Stonn


Con’d from: Plan B


Stardate 2.140526.0602
Scene: Kassandra’s Quarters

There was a dull roar in his ears. It grew increasingly louder as the moments passed, until Russ realized that the roar was the pounding in his head. As consciousness came to him, a corresponding pain accompanied that roar, until at last, a familiar feeling of morning hangover washed throughout Russ’s system. His mouth felt like sandpaper and tasted like cheap alcohol and stale cigarette smoke. He winced in pain, then with tang of defeat as he realized the only explanation was he had gone back to those old patterns, the drinking, the self-destruction.

He should have said no; should have said that he would just have a water.

But he had not. *Why?* Russ knew the answer almost as soon as he asked. He had been lonely, eager to make some sort of connection with another being, and he had not wanted to seem like he was a wet blanket.

In retrospect, this seemed ridiculous. Russ suspected that although she put up an 'I don't give a shit' front, in her own way, she was as lonely as he was. Kassandra seemed to be fighting her own demons, and probably would not have pressed further if he'd said no.

*No more drinking.* He swore to himself. **Clean up and face the music, do better.**

He opened his eyes groggily, and frowned. This was not his quarters. He looked around, taking in his surroundings.

Gray walls, charcoal carpet, gunmetal furniture with dark grey cushions. It was the very definition of a regulation, general issue room. On one of the walls near the door several weapons racks had been installed and they contained a variety of bladed, projectile and energy weapons. Only two splashes of color prevented the room from being monochromatic: A small bonsai with vermillion flowers that cascaded over the side of a pitted and weathered stone dotted with green moss in a cobalt blue pot, and a completely incongruous giant pink stuffed octopus wearing a top hat, monocle, and handlebar mustache.

He tried to move, and sudden pins and needles shot down his numb leg. He looked down - Kassandra Thytos was fast asleep her head resting on his lap. In the dim light, he could see the sensor nets under her skin blinking slowly, hibernating until they were needed again. Her hair had fallen out of her ponytail and hung in loose curls down her cheeks. Asleep her ferocity and simmering anger disappeared and she seemed frail, in need of protection, almost vulnerable-

He reached down to brush her hair off of her cheek and out of her mouth when Kassandra suddenly let out a snort that sounded like it was channeling the devil himself and drooled on his leg. He tried to stifle his amusement but failed, letting out a hearty laugh.

Kassandra shot upright, slamming her head into his chin as she fell ungracefully onto the floor in a roll, one hand pulling out a knife from the back of her waistband. Any softness she had had in sleep was gone.

"What the HELL Pretty Boy? Were you watching me while I slept? You some sort of creeper?” She glared at him as she sheathed her blade. Her sensor nets flashed frantically as they finished coming online.

"Jesus, good morning to you, crazy," he shot back, rubbing his bruised chin. "I was sleeping. You snored. I woke up."

"Huh. And don't get any weird ideas. You're not my type."

"Oh yeah? I've been told I'm ruggedly handsome." He retorted, a little stung. "Just what *is* your type?"

"Dumb, able to beat me in a fight, built like a linebacker, scars a plus." Kassandra ticked off her list on her fingers. "And you're *pretty* Fly Boy, not ruggedly handsome. I'm taking a shower. You can have it after. Come anywhere near the door and I'll poke your eyes out."

"Nothing to see anyway," he snorted. "I've seen bulkheads with more curve than you."

She crossed her arms, and he thought she was going to hit him. Instead, a lopsided smirk tugged at her lip.

"Kitty's got claws." She turned away, hiding the growing smile.

"There's a clothing replicator in the bedroom, you'll probably want a uniform that looks respectable when you go to talk to The Man. And if you want to be my friend forever, replicate a pot of coffee and have it waiting." She opened the bedroom door and disappeared into the bathroom.

Russ groaned as he got up, and winced in pain as he stumbled to the replicator.

"A cup of apple juice... and a pot of coffee," he muttered. The items shimmered into being, and Russ quickly downed the apple juice. He winced in slight nausea, but held it down for the moment; this had always helped with hangovers.

He then ordered up a new uniform, and waited as it scanned him for his measurements. As it began the replication process, Russ took in the Marine's bedroom. It was the polar opposite of the austere living room; on every surface were neatly ordered lines of tchotchkes from dozens of different worlds, the floor was littered with clothing and piles of books, an oddly antiquated touch. The bed had lavender floral sheets on it and was unmade, the blankets forming a little nest in the center. In one corner an easel stood, a half painted still life on it. He found himself liking the Marine a little bit more- the room humanized her a little bit. He took the uniform and returned to the living room, replicated a large pot of coffee, and poured himself a large cup. He picked up the book on her table, careful not to disturb the bookmark. Starship Troopers. Go figure. He wondered if he'd find The Art of War or Red Badge of Courage in the stacks in her bedroom. New uniform in hand, he returned to the living room and walked over to the food replicator.


Meanwhile, Kassandra was having a meltdown in the shower. She'd put on a good show of nonchalance in front of the FCO, but as soon as the doors closed behind her the utter, abject panic set in.

**What did you do, Thytos? You good for nothing drunk.** She thought, feeling the panic hammering in her chest. Her stomach gave an uncomfortable flip and she vomited into the toilet. **You get a second chance and you blow it mere weeks after getting in? You couldn't even control yourself for what, a month? This is the end. There's no way they ignore this, not for you, you addict. You sorry piece of shit that only got back here because some Admiral decided to make you a pity crusade to hold up and show how much he loves Starfleet personnel. You're done. Out on your ass. You'll have to go tell Lysander and Cassie that their old washed up aunt fucked up again, and could they please bail your sorry ass out again. As usual. **

They deserved someone who was so much better than she was.

Humanity liked to claim that it had evolved past its pettiness, its venial nature, its consumerism and capitalism and building prosperity on the backs of the masses of the poor, and that might have been true in the core worlds. But as the child of a colony world Kassandra knew it was a lie. Humanity had not evolved- society had, culture had.

Outside the core worlds where life was harder and humans lived close to the possibility of sudden raids, death, and starvation, and where the shining human civilization was nothing but a pinprick of light human nature was as same as it ever was.

And she would be the first to admit that she was full of the worst of what humanity had to offer. For some people, like Captain Kane or her niece and nephew, civilization and that shining ideal of human virtue seemed to come easily.

For her, on the other hand, civilization and refinement were a veneer, a band-aid, an elaborate hoax. Something to hide her true nature to make these soft, cerebral, happy core world humans feel safe and superior to all the other warlike species.

She was a wolf in sheep's clothing.

She turned off the shower and dried off, donning her uniform like battle armor.

**Alright Thytos. If you're going to get thrown off this ship, you will at least do it looking like a Starfleet Officer.** She took a deep breath and slicked her hair back into its habitual ponytail and mimed a defiant growl. **Right. Don't you dare let anyone know you had a meltdown. If they even suggest it, threaten to rip their throat out.**


Russ was just finishing his first cup of coffee when his combadge beeped. [[Commander Stonn to Lieutenant BaShen or Major Thytos.]]

Surprised, Russ tapped his badge. "This is BaShen, go ahead sir."

[[I see from the replicator activity that you are awake. You and Major Thytos will report to me separately and immediately, prior to the start of your activities.]]

Russ felt a knot work around his stomach. "Aye sir."

[[Commander Stonn out,]] the Vulcan XO finished without ceremony.

Russ sat down at the table, and rubbed his face in minor anxiety. He heard the shower cease for a minute, and then the sounds of Kass getting changed in the next room. He sighed, and got his clothes ready as Kass walked out, toweling her hair dry. "Ah! Coffee! Maybe I'll keep you around Fly Boy," she smiled at him in a rare sort of way. It was unique from all the other smiles that she had given him.

It made him feel...

Well, at any rate, it made him feel almost guilty for what he was about to say. "Commander Stonn called while you were in the shower," he informed her.

Her smile vanished, and was replaced by her usual, surly, annoyed look. "What did he want?" Russ repeated the message. Kassandra made a face. "Heh, whatever. See yourself out then; I'll go talk to him first."

She poured herself a mug and began to leave, but then stopped. She turned back to Russ and bore down on him, sticking a finger in his face. "If you go through my things, I will know, and I will kill you.

Got it, Pretty Boy?"

Russ rolled his eyes.

"You do know your constant stream of threats kinda makes them lose their punch right? Ow!" He yelped as she gave him a dead arm. "Woman! Will you stop it with the hitting?"

"You were saying something about my threats losing their punch?" She asked sweetly. "And I'm only reminding you my threats are never idle. But hey, listen, in all seriousness, good luck, and if I don't see you again, it's been swell."

She exited the room at a perfect military march.

**What a strange woman.** He hauled himself up and headed to the shower. There to his amusement, he found a dizzying array of girly accoutrements, nicely scented soaps, shampoos, bubble baths, creams, lip glosses, and a ridiculous fluffy loofah for the shower. **I had better pretend I never saw this. Or she really will kill me. I bet she smells nice though…**


Scene: Bridge

Kassandra walked onto the bridge, doing her best not to seem like she was slinking in the door like a dog. All was quiet on the bridge, Captain Kane appeared to be somewhere else, for which she was eternally grateful. She didn't need him poking and prodding her buttons, trying to make her temper boil over.

"Commander Stonn." She saluted and clicked her heels smartly. "Major Thytos reporting as requested."

"Ah, Major. Please join me in the conference room."


Scene: Conference Room

The Vulcan stood and waited by the door impassively as she walked through the door. "Now, you know exactly why you're here. Your conduct last night was unprofessional, discourteous, and above all showed a complete lack of regard for your crewmates. I don't think I need to tell you that our missions can be dangerous, someday the life of everyone on this ship may rely on you being sober and ready to perform your duties to the best of your abilities."

"Yes sir. I know I've let the crew down." She looked at her shoes.

"You may think a Vulcan incapable of it, Major, but I am not without sympathy towards you in light of your recent history. Admiral Edgerton thought it wise to inform me of your past- don't worry, Captain Kane has not been informed- and I wanted to let you know that I do understand that what you have been through has been difficult, and you are coping with both your... addictive predilections... and the stress of sudden reintroduction to the rigid confines of ship life."

"Sir?" She looked up. This wasn't going exactly how she expected.

"You have a crucial role to play on this ship, Kassandra, and I can't have you jeopardizing your position by acting in ways that are liable to draw negative attention from others who believe that combat units have no place on Starfleet vessels." He steepled his fingers and stared hard at her. "Do you understand? I will be watching, and for this time only, I will let you off with an unofficial warning, and the understanding that you will apologize to John Doe and the Ensign you and BaShen slammed into last night, as well as the security officers whom you insulted last night. I would prefer you don't drink, but if you do have to, then please have the common sense to do so in the safety of your own quarters. Dismissed Major."

Relief washed over her, and she saluted the commander, feeling much more kindly disposed towards him than she had before.

"Yes Sir. Message received. You will not be called about my behavior again." She turned smartly on her heels, and strode out the door. A sudden urge to run hit her, but she kept her composure.


Scene: Bridge

As she walked to the turbolift doors they slid back, revealing Russ, looking chagrined but no worse for the wear. He saw her, and raised an eyebrow. She shrugged nonchalantly. “He’s in the conference room,” she said, managing to keep a steady tone.

“How bad was it?” He asked in a low voice.

She shrugged again. “I haven’t been thrown off the ship,” she retorted, and walked past him. Russ still looked worried. For a moment, she faltered, wanting to give him a word of comfort. Then she noticed the others on the bridge, watching, judging. Lieutenant Calvari was glaring daggers at the two of them. Without further hesitation, she threw herself into the turbolift and shut the doors. She the doors reopened again, she did not stop – she fled towards the Marine barracks.


Scene: Conference Room

Russ walked through the door to see Stonn, just about to leave. He raised an eyebrow when he saw Russ, and sat back down. “Ah, Mr. BaShen.”

“Commander,” Russ responded hesitantly. “Reporting as ordered.”

Stonn was silent for a long time. Russ began to feel increasingly uncomfortable, standing there, waiting for Stonn to say something. Finally, the XO broke the ice. “It would be illogical to tell you what you already know,” Stonn began. There was another long silence before Stonn continued. “So let me tell you what I know, Mr. BaShen.” The Vulcan sat back and began to count the points on his fingers. “I know that this isn’t the first time that you have been called to account for drinking.” Russ felt his ears burning in shame. Stonn continued. “I also know that you were allowed to renter Starfleet via the graces of Admiral Edgerton, despite your history of insubordination and your association with radical elements.”

Russ felt himself getting hot, and glanced down to the ground. “Sir, I am sorry I…” He paused, then ice seemed to replace the heat in his veins. **Wait, how did Stonn know that?**

“I also know quite a bit more about you,” the Vulcan continued. “I know that on several occasions, you flouted regulations. Your previous Captains silence on the record speaks to the amount of confidence they had in you, though one tends to wonder when, after 15 years in and about Starfleet, the highest rank you have yet to achieve is Lieutenant Junior Grade.” Russ was looking at him in amazement.

“I know that you were thrown in the brig for having illegal substances in your system following your ACT training.” Stonn seemed relentless. Russ strained his brain – how could Stonn have possibly known that? All records of the incident had been lost.

“In short, BaShen, I know that you are a liability,” Stonn summarized. “I have merely to inform Captain Kane of these records, and couple it with the latest incident to make a case for your removal from this ship.”

Russ was reeling. How did Stonn know all this? How much did Captain Kane know? Russ sputtered, “Sir, please, I’m begging you, please don’t tell Captain Kane.”

Stonn raised a finger to silence Russ, and let a few moments of uncomfortable silence pass between them. Finally, Stonn began again. “There is a common misperception that Vulcans are without mercy or feelings of sympathy,” he intoned. Russ shifted slightly, waiting. “Allow me to dispel that myth for you Mr. BaShen. There is logic in mercy.” He paused. “But it comes at a price.”

Russ felt that a climactic moment had been reached. He was hesitant, but he asked anyway. “A price sir?”

Stonn steepled his fingers. “Let me make it clear, Mr. BaShen. You are here at Admiral Edgerton’s pleasure; and given recent events, you seem to be serving at my pleasure as well.” Stonn stood now, and regarded Russ with a measure of contempt (or as near to contempt as Vulcans came). “Mr. BaShen, I could give a damn how much you drink on your personal time. You may drink all you please in the privacy of your quarters.” He was approaching Russ. “But I expect that those who serve under me will fulfill their duties at the appropriate times, without questions asked.” He was nose to nose with Russ now. “Is that understood, Mr. BaShen?”

Russ couldn’t speak. Stonn was nose to nose with him, and his glare was overpowering. Russ thought about his future, and the fact that it was now all in Stonn’s hands. Russ felt like the Vulcan XO had grabbed him by the heart, and was now threatening to squeeze it to oblivion. Sputtering, Russ finally replied. “I understand you sir.” His mind was racing.

Stonn continued. “Let me tell you something else I know, BaShen. I know that you have a fondness for conspiratorial thinking. Your father’s death… your wife’s death… it seems to me to be a repeated pattern with you, BaShen.” The Vulcan’s voice was emotionless, yet menacing. “Do not make me share these thoughts with the Captain, BaShen. You will only suffer humiliation.”

All at once, Russ felt helpless. He opened his mouth, and then closed it again.

Stonn gazed at him evenly, then stepped back, the tone of his voice returning to a less ominous one. “You are here for a reason, Mr. BaShen, and foolish acts such as last night’s drunken display will not be tolerated. I am watching you Mr. BaShen. You will apologize to those you disturbed last night, as well as Lieutenant Calvari and his security team. Is that understood?”

Russ barely cracked a whisper. “Sir, yes sir.”

Without a further word, the Vulcan man left through the door, leaving Russ standing, alone, still facing the same direction. He was trembling.

**I need a drink…**


Written by

Alix Fowler


Major Kassandra Thytos

Marine CO



Christopher B. Del Gesso


LtJG Russ Gerodi BaShen

Flight Control Officer



Previous Next