Even Under the Best of Cirumstances

Posted on 02 Oct 2014 @ 7:19pm by Lieutenant JG Wakeham Paul Alasia Ph.D. & Command Master Chief Markum Quinn
Edited on on 02 Oct 2014 @ 8:20pm

3,107 words; about a 16 minute read

Mission: Episode 06 - Legend of Souls
Location: USS Galileo - Deck 5 - Intelligent Offices
Timeline: MD09, 1300 hrs

Previously on "The Uncomfortable Business of Law"

"Starfleet regulations - Sir, this is not Civilian law, this is the military code of justice - Starfleet regulations state that the diplomatic office must be informed directly of any event which results in the violation of the Prime Directive or that could materially influence diplomatic relations with another power." Paul sighed. "My interest level in playing hall monitor - especially on my first mission - is non-existent. But this is black letter law. How do we not tell diplomatic?"

"Simple." John acknowledged, the tactical officer training in him searching for the obvious solution to the problem.

"We don't file the report. We don't mention this happened, and we treat the Cardassians like royalty so they don't feel the need to go sending off errant subspace communications to Headquarters."

Scarlet nodded, frowning as she took a heavy breath, looking to Holliday. "The Gul and his crew have never claimed any kind of diplomatic interest in our interaction. As far as they're concerned, they're a military ship, so are we, and they had a crisis in the mine to worry about. The Gul accepted apologies that were given. He showed no signs that he was holding a grudge. On the contrary, he sat and ate the rest of the meal with us. I would hardly call that a diplomatic incident," she shook her head, meeting Paul's eyes. "Honestly? I suspect it was very much water off a duck's back to the Gul. He is a...self-assured and strong individual. He brushed it off and left peacefully. I don't think we need to worry."

Paul shifted uncomfortably in his chair. "This is..." Paul stopped his own thought cold. Glancing at his new command team, he recited a promise to himself he made when he started OCS. This was a different world, he had been warned. Paul had tried to make peace with the idea that there were times when he would have to trust others above his own judgment.

"Yes, ma'am" Paul acquiesced. "I'll stick it in a drawer. I'll, uhh..." He hesitated a moment trying to find the words to end things properly. Paul had never felt like he belonged to this world less. "That's that, then." Paul became suddenly aware of his posture and sat up. "Captain, Commander - I'm sorry to have wasted your time."


Paul tapped his fingers nervously on the desk in front of him, anticipating the arrival of the Chief of the Boat. He was overcome with the strange sensation of waiting for the school principal to arrive in his office rather than the other way around. As best Paul could tell the Master Chief was among the longest tenured and most decorated Starfleet personnel aboard the ship - even moreso than the Commodore, the Captain or the XO. As terrifying as his meeting with the Captain and Commander Blake had been, he was looking forward to this one even less.

But, Paul had waited as long as he could. He had pushed his discussions until the end of the mission and now he no longer had an excuse. Paul needed to maintain the fiction getting the Master Chief's statement for the report he had no intention of sending to the Federation Diplomatic Corps. Or maybe Paul just wanted to hear what happened without the command staff running interference.

Quinn walked into the Intel Offices and stopped when he saw Paul. "You called for me, Lieutenant?"

"I did." Paul gestured to the chair in front of him. "Master Chief, if you could take a seat. We've not officially met and this isn't really how I'd like to do it. Nonetheless, my guess is that you have some idea what this is about."

"Yeah, I have a few hunches." responded the COB. "All the same, I'd like to have you specifically tell me though, sir. I'd prefer not to have to presume and say something inappropriate."

The 'sir' in the Chief's sentence sent a low shudder down Paul's spine. This was a scenario where rank failed to capture the true power dynamic at play. "Fair enough. To put it mildly, the dinner with the Cardassians last week did not go well. I want to talk it over with you and take a short statement."

Quinn leaned back in his chair some and smiled. "Of course. The Tactical officer and I had a verbal debate about the differences that the two once enemies had in regards to racially charged stereotypes. In fact, you know both he and I left the dinner early, and we had a private discussion and we managed to express our sensitivities with one another and well, to be honest sir, I'm happy to say he and I are far from enemies and the healing between the two of us was quite liberating."

"Yeah, the XO mentioned something along those lines - she spoke to the Gul as well. To be honest, Chief, the dinner - and I had no small hand in this - the Cardassians were pretty gracious all things considered."

Paul took a small breath. "We didn't - and I mean this about the whole ship collectively, not just you - we didn't equate ourselves very well to the circumstance. I guess I want to start with you're describing some of your experiences with Cardassian people going back to the war or whatever period in your life you feel is relevant."

"Sure, but you won't like what I have to say, and I pray that you never get the opportunity to be in all-out war." Markum replied as he stood and walked to the replicator. He ordered a steaming mug of double strong, double sweet coffee then returned to his seat. "Okay then, my first encounter was while I was posted on the USS Thor. It was a brand new Defiant Class. We usually ran escort for civilians and supply convoys. We've engaged them more than on one occasion. They fought with a tenacity that would surprise a Klingon."

"This is during the war?" Paul asked.

Quinn nodded. "Yes. They usually took no survivors, unless you were a Betazoid, then you were tortured and used for unthinkable experiments."

"Most historic accounts paint the Cardassians as somewhat hesitant belligerents - especially after the initial months of the war and DS9 was re-taken. According to the official histories I've read, most of what would qualify as "warcrimes" were committed by the Jem'Hadar. Your experiences differ from those accounts?

"Don't trust everything you read, sonny." said Quinn softly. "While the historians were sitting in safe, comfortable rooms writing their stories, we were out there, fighting for our very survival, the UFP's existence." Quinn let out a sigh and shook his head slightly. "What they did to the Betzoids was just...reprehensible. I stayed on Betazed after its liberation with a group from Starfleet Combat Engineers. We rebuilt the infrastructure and the population's homes and schools."

"Chief, the accounts I'm talking about were mostly written by former marines - I may be a ivory tower snob but you can't very well dismiss everything written since the war as a..." Paul paused. He scoffed and shook his head. "They turned the whole war - we lost a third of the fleet and they turned the war."

Paul stepped to the replicator. "Computer, water please. Four degrees" The beverage materialized and Paul took a long series of gulps until the glass was nearly emptied. "About a hundred years ago, Chief. There was a small colony on Organia. Maybe 60,000 people. Humans. We forget today what we thought the Klingons were then. The colony was defenseless - no shield generator, not orbital batteries. Six torpedoes in the right spots and the whole colony would have been a crater. But no, they wanted to feel. They used blades

Those people - there wasn't a single survivor. Not one. Limbs missing. The corpses of mothers draped around their children. We weren't even at war. They did it to intimidate us. They did it so we would think they commit atrocities as a matter of routine. They killed 60,000 members of a species and we're not even sure if they know why they did it. The twisted part is, they found hundreds of Klingon bodies too. They'd rather risk their own life for the perverse pleasure of experiences a kill up close. At least, that's what they did then."

Paul sighed. "I don't expect some massacre from one hundred years ago to have the same salience for you, Chief. I'm not going to patronize you and say I understand what you've seen. But, what's the statute of limitations on this stuff, Chief? How long do we let the sins of the past define how we see these beings today?"

"It's harder to let go of the hate when you have first hand experience of the atrocities." said Quinn. "Most generations of war veterans hold some type of animosity towards their previous opponents. "The Axis and Allies, the Andorians and the Vulcans, the Humans and Suliban and the Federation and her many former enemies. I have little doubt if a member of the Dominion showed up all of the sudden, several people would have the same reactions. It's just since they have moved deeper into the Gamma Quadrant, we don't have to contend with that wound any longer. I know it's wrong for me to still hate them, but I do and no matter what I do, it still stays. Although, the Cardassian security chief and I had met briefly after the diner. I must say I think we both walked away with a better understanding of each others feelings. It felt...good to get some of it out. I think I made the first steps towards reconciliation."

"That's what troubles me, Chief. I'm glad you got your moment of catharsis but you and the Captain and the XO seem to have this same attitude - nothing bad happened. It strikes me as pretty damn cavalier. I'm glad nothing bad happened. But they could have blown us out of the sky. You took the lives of dozens of crew members into your hands and really - the entire non-aggression pact."

Paul continued calmly. "Your the most senior man on board this ship. If I can't trust you to keep your cool in these situations... what would you have me do? If I flew right in the face of your protocol... let's say I brought on a Breen attache ob board without informing you despite their being officially listed as hostiles by Starfleet Security... Let's say I conducted my negotiations without incident in complete defiance of the regulations which govern your duties as CoB. What would you do to me?

"I take it this is your first assignment on a starship, Lieutenant. But you ask what I'd to you? That's easy. I would do whatever the Skipper or the Commodore ordered me to do to you. If that meant placing you in irons and escorting you to the brig, or doing nothing. I do whatever the Captain or Commodore orders. Period." Quinn scratched his beard briefly then continued. "You seem to like proposing hypothetical questions, Lieutenant. So let me ask you one. What if I didn't climb up into the port nacelle and reset the warp plasma conduit, even knowing damn well that we would all surely die if someone didn't do it and do it fast? I can tell you what, you wouldn't have the privilege of sitting here questioning me, the Skipper and the XO and calling me a cavalier. Do you know the definition of cavalier, Lieutenant? I know because a cocky ensign called me it one time. Apparently he liked to use big words that he did not understand. The definition of cavalier is: One having the spirit or bearing of a knight; a courtly gentleman; gallant."

Paul let slip a roll of his eyes.

Quinn stood up. "Thank-you for the compliment. Am I rambunctious and sometimes act and follow my instinct before worrying about what some diplomat thinks, or if I may bend a rule? Your damn right I do. Am I a passionate man that takes his career and experiences and uses it to teach others and try to be a mentor to the other enlisted and junior officers like yourself? Your dam right I do. And you know what, Lieutenant? I am the man you want in a sticky situation where it comes down to life or death. DO you know why? Of course not, because it's not in your over-sized, over thought-out and over analyzed, politically correct sensitive doctrine that smooth handed, silver-tongued paper pushers that are too damned scared to get out in the field and actually risk their pretty little selves while the rest of us are out in the great beyond, flying at Warp nine, with parts falling off, getting shot at and improvising and pushing what science says is possible with these tin cans we sail in, all because the paper-pushers back home put us intoa situation that didn't go by the book. You want me in that life or death position because if it comes down to it Lieutenant, just as I did when I reset that plasma injector and lost my arm, almost my life. Why? Because my family, my home was going to die if someone didn't have the balls to go up there and do what needed to be done, even knowing it was a probable death-trap that I would most likely not live through. Maybe I shouldn't have been such a cavalier, and let everyone die? Would you be able to do that? Are you capable of putting your precious rule book down and throw caution and self preservation to the wind and do what needed to be done? Because I don't believe you can. Thankfully you won't have to most likely because even as little as I like you, I would be the one to do it, even in certain death because you live in my home and that makes you family. And I will do whatever it takes to keep you safe."

"Chief, spare me your self-aggrandizement. I'm not the Goddamn Chief Engineer and what you've done to save the ship or whatever else is completely immaterial here. What you did in that dinner didn't help or save anyone. What it did was let you get your self-righteous rocks off. So don't try to talk around why we're here."

"So, you want to bust my balls for what I did? Don't you get what happened? The Cardassian military is an organization built upon the use of intimidation as a way to project their might. Bullies. They are masters at antagonizing others, maybe even more so than the Romulans. SO they come to our little dinner, throwing out insults and quips meant to jab at us, but never expecting that someone stands up to them and calls their bluff. The XO wanted to do it. The Skipper wanted to do it. Hell, even the Commodore wanted to, but they absolutely could not do it. I on the other hand, their notorious CoB and Dominion War Veteran that is known for his outspokenness and gallantry could. Now the Galileo has something that the Cardassians did not expect. One of the captain's closest advisers and confidants may just be a loose cannon. How much influence does this fearless man have over the good captain? It is well documented that this rebel is in good grace with the Task Group Commanding Officer, which is also the Deputy Task Force Commanding Officer." Quinn shook his head at Paul. "So, now the Cardassians have to tread a little more cautiously, especially since one of their own senior officers took the bait and was as well dismissed from dinner."

"You see, this is exactly the problem, Chief. It's exactly the same problem with you telling me that I don't have the werewithal to help the ship in a moment of need. Calling me a 'silver-tongued paper-pusher.' You don't know the first Goddamn thing about me - you've constructed an entire phantom out of what you think I am and have been railing against it this whole time. We. Just. Met." Paul's teeth were clenching in furious anger.

"It's the same thing you did with the Cardassians. I'm not an idiot, I know what the Cardassians have done and what they're capable of. But neither you nor I know anything about these Cardassians. It's a new generation from a decimated power. They could be different for a thousand reasons but we'll never know with people like you."

"All you know is your own bilious Goddamn hate - and it has no place in Starfleet. Hate is sloppy. Hate is stupid. Hate is blind and hate is exactly what the Starfleet doesn't stand for. You can save the ship one hundred times and it won't matter if you're the one who ultimately gets us killed -- and you could have gotten us killed. You want a medal for going into that nacelle talk to engineering because I don't anything about that. What I saw - what I saw when you were in my world - was reckless."

One Cardassian Gul was not going to start a war over me blowing my top." Markum countered. "Why? Because the Cardassians are still rebuilding from the war. They can hardly produce enough food now to feed their populace. The Federation is their best and possibly only hope of rebuilding and restoring all that the Dominion took from them. The Federation is what is keeping them alive, and not be devoured by the likes of the Breen or Tholians. And Starfleet, us, are the transporters of that relief and what is keeping their borders safe, Lieutenant and they know that. They just needed to be reminded of it. If we pack up and leave, they would be screwed. Now if you'll excuse me Lieutenant, I have a meeting with the Captain."

"Yeah, whatever. Dismissed." Paul huffed. Markum headed for the door. "Chief!" Paul called after him. Markum turned his head over his shoulder to the young Lieutenant. "This isn't over. Not by a damn sight."

With that, Quinn let out a small chuckle and exited.

OFF

Wakeham Paul Alasia, PhD
Diplomatic Officer
USS Galileo

Command Master Chief Markum Quinn
Chief of the Boat
USS Galileo

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