From Mountain to Hill

Posted on 29 Jul 2022 @ 5:38pm by Commander Morgan Tarin & Lieutenant Aria Rice

3,348 words; about a 17 minute read

Mission: Episode 18 - Cold Station 31
Location: USS Galileo-A - Deck 2, Mess Hall
Timeline: MD 08, 2009 hrs

Previously, on Mount Tarin (Part 2)...

Morgan nodded an acknowledgement to the doctor, satisfied with the Nekomi ensign's diagnosis. She quickly returned her attention to Aria and the candid sentiment the Lunan expressed just moments ago. "Mimi will be fine, she's not injured," she rebutted to the security chief. "None of us can know our limits if we don't test them and try to push boundaries." She finished chewing on her ice then swallowed, now feeling sufficiently cooled down from the grueling ruck. "Get back to your quarters and stretch then shower. Meet me in the mess hall in an hour. We'll talk about this more."

"Yes Commander," Aria said, knowing a dismissed when she heard it. She left, glancing to Ember before down, frowning as she left sickbay.

And Now, the Continuation...

[ON]

Showered and dressed in a fresh uniform, Aria Rice had made her way to the mess to see Tarin. She felt sore, having spent time just to make sure her new blisters were cushioned and any chafing covered. She wore her hair in a bun, and put enough makeup on to cover her tiredness. She didn't see Tarin straight away, so allowed herself the time to replicate some coffee before taking a seat and waiting.

It wasn't that she was angry at Tarin. She had pushed through those emotions and dismissed them. They weren't helpful. Instead there was a little bit of calm acceptance that had settled in her the last days. It felt like longer than three days in truth, a lot longer. Things had changed quickly for her, not just with the new CO, but with Aria's new position. Chief of Security in a department of three. There was no point worrying about it either, it was just one of those things. Accept and move on. Make do. Hurry up and wait.

Morgan Tarin entered the mess hall unceremoniously just as two other crew members were departing through the same door. The tall commander was dressed in a replica of her previous uniform, albeit a fresh one. Her crimson undershirt and grey vest were wrinkle-free yet the garment atop her shoulders was damp from her recently-washed hair. Her pale skin was radiant and the light freckles on her nose appeared more prominent. She scanned the room and quickly found Rice, then joined the young woman at the small table. "Lieutenant," she acknowledged, sitting down across from her. "Feeling refreshed?"

"Refreshed isn't the world I would have used, Commander, but I certainly do no longer stink of sweat," Aria said as she met her eyes, watching her for a moment before she looked down into her drink.

"No, you don't," Tarin complimented with private humor. "The fatigue will wear off. Once we get into this routine, it will become second-nature to your body." Her hazel eyes searched Aria's pale blue ones for a long moment. "I sense you're not happy with the exercise."

Aria met her eyes, taking a slow sip of her coffee. "I was not happy with the circumstances, or the method, of the exercise," she said openly. "But I raised my concerns, and you noted them, and the order stood." Because she was Starfleet, and followed orders.

Staring at her, Tarin slowly got up then motioned for Rice to follow her to the replicator. "I don't know what you eat, but get some protein and carbs in you. It'll help with muscle recovery tonight." When she reached the food synthesizer, she ordered a customized meal. "Tarin-New York-Gamma," she instructed, already having transferred her preferred food matrices into Galileo's computer upon arrival in the previous days. A large plate materialized containing a hearty strip steak, grilled corn on the cob, and a small side salad. She retrieved her plate then stepped aside for Rice.

Aria considered it before she sighed. "Computer, pizza, New York style, pepperoni and pineapple, one large slice," she said, before she took the food that materialised.

The acting captain looked at the large single slice of pizza then back to Rice. Then back to the pizza and again back to Aria. "Computer, an additional portion from the previous program." A second large and robust slice of pie manifested which Morgan took in her hand and presented to the other woman. "You need more calories," she explained, walking back to their table and taking a seat.

Aria took it, following her back to the table. "Not usually a problem for me," she said, and picked up her slice of pizza. She took a bite, closing her eyes at the burst of flavour.

Across the table from Rice, Tarin started to cut into her steak with her cutlery and lifted a portion of the hearty, garlic-butter-seasoned meat into her mouth. She chewed alongside Aria with satisfaction, her eyes momentarily drifting to a viewport where the external stars streaked by the ship's hull. "So. You don't like my methods," she plainly stated in between bites. "Explain."

Aria considered it, taking another bite and chewing, just taking her time. "From where I am sitting, I think you use physical exercise as punishment, rather than motivation, or to get the best out of the crew. It's also my opinion that you are pushing the crew too quickly and too harshly. I don't mean they need to be coddled, but there is a balance between the Marines and Starfleet. You pushed the Ensign too far, with no consideration of her species."

Returning her eyes to her plate, Tarin continued to eat while she listened. There was no outward expression of emotion from the acting captain aside from a moment where she briefly raised her eyebrows to herself. "Punishment. Interesting choice of words," she remarked, looking back up at Rice. "What exactly do you believe I was punishing you and the ensign for during our exercise?"

"For not speaking as your idea of what a Starfleet officer should be," Aria said, taking another bite of her pizza. "You didn't like what you heard. Most likely, others know you well enough not to be so open about their...insecurities," she stopped, frowning. "I get it for me. But Ensign Mimi has faced a lot in her life. She may not physically be as strong as others, but she has a very strong heart. She is one of the best Operations officers I have ever seen in my career."

Morgan continued to chew and sip her drink in a momentary silence of reflection. "So. You think you and Mimi spoke out of line in my presence then I punished you two with overly-harsh PT?" Tarin tried to deduce. "To make sure you didn't voice your insecurities in front of me in the future?" There was no judgement in the commander's dry voice. In fact, she strangely didn't seem outwardly bothered by the criticism.

"It may not be the intention, but it will be the result," Aria said as she looked at her, taking a deeper breath. "Yes. It's what I perceive it as. You gave us an order, to complete an exercise under harsh conditions, with packs above standard, then later revealed to me that you knew we wouldn't complete it. You may have seen it as a confidence-building task, to show we could do more than we thought, but the truth is that Ensign Mimi is in sickbay right now, and I have learned my lesson." She finished the slice and took a sip of her coffee. "And if you hadn't asked me to explain why I disagreed with your methods, I would not have said anything. I would have kept silent, and not volunteer any information about myself or my feelings in the future around you."

Setting down her fork to sip her drink, Morgan considered the young department head's personal analysis. "Aria, if I can speak to you personally," she started in a candid tone, "it wasn't my goal to put Mimi in sickbay for the evening. Now, I understand you're probably angry about that. I recognize your complaint." She waved a hand at herself to emphasize her upcoming point. "A new CO suddenly arrives and conducts PT at odd and spontaneous hours. Some of the sessions are difficult, especially if you're not used to them. One of your colleagues goes down from exhaustion during an exercise... I know that's not ideal. I get it. But there was nothing in the ensign's medical file denoting an inability to complete select types of PT. If she really is biologically compromised and can't perform certain physical tasks, she has a duty to inform her superiors of that before it becomes a problem."

Letting out a soft breath, Tarin picked her fork and knife back up then sliced another piece of steak from her plate. "What do you know about me?" she then asked in between more chews.

Aria looked at her, considering it for a long moment. She wasn't angry. She had been angry yesterday. Today she she had moved past it. "I am sure you are good at what you do," she said, her voice quiet. Getting yourself into trouble, Aria. "And you have experience in war, as you said. But I haven't looked at your service record apart from what you have told, I honestly don't know much about you."

"War?" Tarin smirked, her hazel eyes darkening at the distant memories of her early career. She shook her head. "I was never on the front during the Dominion campaigns. I was...at Starfleet Academy. Studying and learning." She poked at her small salad with her fork, averting Rice's gaze. "I was a freshman when the conflict started. My friends - in the upper classes - were all deployed before graduating. Half of them didn't come back. My first assignment after my cadet cruise was in '77 on the Yeager. We did border patrols following the aftermath of the war. I spent six years there as a conn officer before transferring to Lexington under Captain Sim. Another seven there as first officer. Then after the ship's decommissioning, I was recruited for strategic ops just after the Hobus disaster. A couple years of retraining and another promotion later, and I was assigned to Regula I." She finally looked back up at Rice. "I've been here in these sectors for the last two years, coordinating Starfleet's efforts to establish a presence and study whatever-it-is the scientists want. That's why Galileo is here too, even if you don't know it yet."

Aria looked at her, considering it for a moment. "So...it has been a while since you have been in the Command staff on a ship?" she asked, holding her eyes. Four years, maybe a little more.

Forking some salad mix into her mouth. "Technically..." Morgan wiped the dressing from her lips, "strategic operations is part of the command department." She tilted her head slightly to acknowledge the heart of the security officer's query. "But yes. Several years since my last assignment as XO." She continued to eat then subtly frowned. "Why?"

"Just realising that it's not just us adjusting to you, but you to being on a ship again...with all that comes with it," Aria said, sipping the coffee almost thoughtfully. "Must be weird for you. Boom, and there's all these people under you, looking to you for guidance and orders."

"It's nothing I'm not used to." Morgan's reply was simple yet expressed subtle tones of defensiveness. "Starfleet will always be Starfleet. Whether it's a starbase or a starship, our standards are the same." She took more salad from her bowl then cut at the remainder of her steak. "Are you insinuating I've lost a step?" she then asked, looking back up at Aria.

Aria took the time to consider her answer carefully. "Yes," she said, after a long pause. "I believe so. You say our standards, but you are expecting performance above standard. You expect...what you except from yourself. Excellence. To go from a science ship that has seem some bad times, with people passionate about Stafleet's goals of exploration, understanding, and peace...and their science brainy stuff...to your standard of excellence? It isn't done in a week. Or a month. This is a tough little ship, our Lady Galileo, but she is a science vessel. With scientists. Not Marines. I..." she shook her head, finding herself blushing. "I get you are hard on Security. I do. And I apologise you have been stuck with me rather than Wyatt, I think you'd have liked him. But the rest of this crew, they...they need time. And to be allowed the time. In a tight spot, they'll surprise you. They love this ship and will do anything for her. I...think you might have lost that step...this isn't just a ship, it's their home. Their life."

Morgan continued to eat and didn't speak a word for almost half a minute. She finished her steak and salad then placed her fork neatly on the side of her plate with only her corn on the cob remaining. "Aria...this isn't a game of platitudes. I've been overseeing strategic operations in this region for two years and we've already lost four starships," she revealed, giving the lieutenant a severe stare. "Four starships with good crews and good people just like Galileo. Here - in this expanse - we don't have the luxury of reinforcements or standard resupply. There's no major starbase to provide local defense or to retreat to..." She let out a tight sigh. "I might be hard on this crew but it's because they need to become hard to survive here. Scientist or engineer or pilot...it doesn't matter. I expect the best because that's what we need."

Aria looked at her, taking a deeper breath, before she shook her head. "This ship is more than random names on a crew list for me," she said softly. "They do not need this, not this quickly, not this harshly. What they need is to trust that the person in the chair will fight for them. That they will have their back...rather than being ripped apart and made to feel less than they are," she finished her coffee, looking down. "I am sorry about the four ships. Can you disclose what happened to them?" Changing the subject seemed safer, because truth was, she suspected they would always disagree. But Aria understood more now. It comes from fear. Not arrogance...I think underneath all this, there's someone who is afraid, she thought, although another part of her realised she wasn't a counsellor and was most likely projecting her own feelings into the situation and her understanding of the other woman.

Looking down at her seasoned corn cob, Tarin picked it up but let it linger in her hands. The way the conversation was turning, she was losing her appetite. "Do you really want to know, Aria? How the other crews died a hundred light years from their homeworlds?"

"Yes," Aria said, without any hesitation. "I spent some time...on the border patrols. One of the things we did was come across ships that...had no survivors. We always tried to find out what happened, and when possible, give word to the home planets. It matters."

Morgan bit into her corn and took consecutive lateral bites. She licked her front teeth to push the grains into her mouth as she made her way across the row. "It does matter," she agreed, "but the details don't. That's your morbid curiosity speaking. Starfleet ship deployments and casualties are operationally classified above your security clearance. But..since you asked," her hazel eyes became penetrating as she looked at Rice while eating, "they died alone in this vacuum-hell of a star nursery. Most of them far away from their families."

Setting her cob down and wiping her lips with her napkin, Tarin rested her wrists on the edge of the table. "Look, Aria," the acting captain still wasn't used to addressing Galileo's crew members by their first names, "you seem like you mean well. I've read your file and I've seen your deployment history. You have to let go of that and your preconceived notions. Out here - in the Pleiades Cluster...this isn't the same Starfleet you're used to. Saalm knew this and that's why she did what she did at Latari. It's the reason why she's on special assignment right now."

Tarin raised her arms above her head then stretched them, feeling a couple soft muscle pops in her shoulders and along her upper spine. "The quicker you come to terms with your deployment situation out here, the faster you'll acclimate and become a more effective department head. And I need my chief of security to be effective. Do you understand this, Aria?"

Aria watched her for a long moment, taking a deeper breath. "No," she finally said. "I can't reconcile that Starfleet is not the same out here, that the principles and goals are not the same. That we do not have the same responsibility to our crew, and those we encounter. But what I can do is to obey orders, and do the best job I can do. And I will not question you in front of others, unless it is an unlawful order, in which case my oath obliges me to speak up."

"Don't put words in my mouth," corrected Morgan. "Our duties haven't changed. Our ethos and responsibilities are still the same." She frowned, wondering exactly what sort of renegade officer Rice thought she might be. "We have a different culture out here -- one that deals with the unique dangers and threats we've been facing and the reality that if we make a mistake and get ourselves into trouble, no one is coming to save us. All those luxuries you had on your border patrol missions? They don't exist here. I'm trying to help you understand."

Aria looked at her, her features going skill. They were in public. She did not want to say anything more, in case it got overheard. "Understood, ma'am," she said, her voice quiet. Her heart was beating against her ribcage, a warning. You risked our safety, on a training exercise. That is not my Starfleet. Your Starfleet, out here, is not the Starfleet I love. It was a horrifying realisation, making her doubt her place here. So she fell back on training, although Aria had always struggled with it. Mouth shut, yes ma'am, no ma'am. She could get through it.

"Good. If..." Morgan had returned to her corn cob and was now chewing again, "..you ever need to talk to me....with more concerns, you know where to find me," she offered. Biting into the final row of her meal, she then revealed her future PT plans in candid form. "You, Mimi and I will be running Hill 873 again in 48 hours. Make sure you're ready this time. I expect both of you to complete the full ruck. No excuses."

Aria nodded, frowning slightly. No excuses. No point saying anything then. "Yes ma'am. Permission to be dismissed?" she met her eyes, holding them. She wasn't hungry any more.

A curt nod of acknowledgement was the entirety of Morgan's reply. She could sense friction in the air between them, not unlike that of other Galileo crew she'd recently encountered. It seemed like the entire ship was in need of a good kick in the butt. Not a pat on the back. "Get some rest tonight. We have officer PT at 0530 tomorrow," she reminded.

"I have some paperwork that needs filling in, but I will aim for it," Aria said, giving a nod. "Good evening, Commander." She took the plates and mug, carrying it to be recycled.

[OFF]

--

Lieutenant Aria Rice
Chief of Security
USS Galileo-A

CMDR Morgan Tarin
Acting Commanding Officer
USS Galileo-A
[PNPC Saalm]

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