The Journalist and The Soldier

Posted on 14 Feb 2013 @ 8:48am by Raifi Zaren & Captain Jonathan Holliday

1,891 words; about a 9 minute read

Mission: Episode 03 - Frontier
Location: USS Galileo - Deck 2 - Corridor outside the XO's office
Timeline: MD 02: 1530 hrs

[ON]

Messages sent, comm recordings left, Zaren paced the quarters he'd been given. They were nice; perhaps one of the most generous things the press team had been offered by Command since they'd arrived. The research ship was run more like a military vessel than almost any other Starfleet ship he'd been on - and he'd hitchhiked on Fleet ships with Marine contingents. Perhaps it was the size of the ship. Or perhaps, like Athlen had said, they were all just jumpy. Because of... whatever had happened to them on their last mission. Parts of Raifi were insanely curious as to what exactly had happened, but that wasn't why he was here on this ship.

He wanted to see Rojar. That had been his entire reason for coming. To see something completely unique. Now he found himself telling the same story from the edge of known space. But how could he think about a story to tell about undiscovered planets, without thinking of the planet that had only recently been destroyed? There was a symmetry to the way knowledge came to bear. Destruction and creation. Despair and hope. It was all cyclical.

He'd seen a piece of sculpture one - well, Velen had - a kind of mobile, vast and heavy, built of study color shifting metals. One orb rotating around another, around another, around another, all in different directions, at different speeds. The wheels of existence. The truth behind coincidence. Was it coincidence, that Akre had called him out of the blue, to tell him of an incredible discovery - only to bring him to a ship where a Vulcan waited with research on his cause, a Rigelian stood full of heart and the long reach of his clan, and an officer who had once been part of the Romulan relief effort reined as executive officer?

Believing in coincidence, was like believing in chaos. And Zaren had always believed in a cosmic whole.

Taking his PADD under his arm, he stepped out of his borrowed quarters and looked down the hall. What did it mean - that he needed an escort to go to the XO's Office. It was a room off the corridor. Obviously, he wouldn't just traipse in without the man there, but... could he approach the door? Could he step inside without being chaperoned, like a girl before her wedding? He'd only been on the ship a day, best not to risk anything yet. Instead, he did the next best thing. He took a seat on the floor across from the XO's office and waited, scanning the incoming news reports and answers to his messages as they came in.

The turbolift doors opened ahead of the Commander as he stepped out into the corridor, destined for his office before the start of his Bridge shift in only half an hour's time. The day had gone quietly enough so far, even with the arrival of a news crew threatening to destabilise everything that John had worked so hard to build up.

What usually would have been an empty corridor to him was instead populated by a civillian slouched against one of the wall panels...right outside his office.

"Starship corridors are not generally accepted as recreational areas. I trust there's a good reason you are loitering outside my door?"

"I wasn't sure if I was allowed to touch the chime," Zaren said, looking up. "Not a huge fan of jails, you see."

"Chimes are not off limits...the doors or anything beyond them however, most certainly are."

John smirked as he headed towards his door and tapped in his authorisation code to release the lock, before the doors slid open in front of him.

"You have authorisation to enter...now what do you want?"

"I feel like we got off on the wrong foot," Zaren said, following him inside. "I thought maybe you could ask whatever you want. Maybe that would set your mind at ease about this whole process. I know you're not fond of the idea of us being here, but we all want the same thing, I think."

"I won't hide it. I'm not overly fond of having a group of journalists snooping through every facet of this ship and her crew. We've been through enough recently - we've earned some time to ourselves."

"I personally have no intent of putting you through anything more. We're here to cover your work, your discoveries." He paused, dropping into a chair, "How much experience have you actually had with journalists anyway?"

"As little as possible." John replied as he made his way towards his desk, knocking his hand against the light control panel as he entered the room to bring the illumination up to its usual levels.

"Starfleet has more important things to worry about than looking food to readers of a publication."

"Just to be clear then, you're making a judgement on us as a group based on suppositions you've formed from a very limited experience? Or... no experience?" Zaren slipped his hands into his pockets with a wry smile, "Not... exactly the impression I had of Starfleet to be honest. I thought you guys were supposed to enjoy new experiences."

"I'm making a judgement based on the variables that constitute taking the most secure course of action to protect this ship and her crew. Journalists have, for centuries, managed to get hold of information that shouldn't have been in their possession and used it for personal gain. You have to admit, it's not the best past to be working off."

"Neither is generalizing someone for what they do professionally," the Trill answered gamely. "I'm sure you wouldn't like to be lumped in with every second in command in history from every planet. We're individuals. So are you." He smiled, "'Sides, already talked to Eve. We'll give you guys a chance to make some vetting requests within reason. The network will make the final call, sure, but their intent is to get a story that reflects positively on Starfleet."

"Eve is it now? I'm sure Lieutenant Commander Coleman wouldn't be overly impressed with you calling her by her first name after only a day on board this vessel?"

John felt a lump form in his throat as the bile rose up in response to these civilians deciding to address a senior officer on a first name basis. There was still professional courtesy to adhere to, no matter whether or not they were members of Starfleet.

Zaren lifted a brow slowly. Had the XO not been present when they'd first come on board? No. He had. He'd been standing right there when Eve and he had spoken. So how was it that he'd missed the entire interchange? Distracted, perhaps, but he was the second in command of a ship. Surely not that distracted. What a funny man. "...yes..." he said slowly, with a perplexed laugh. "We're old friends. You didn't... pick up on that?"

"Old friends or not, this is still an operational starship and there are rules to be followed. You don't see me approaching the Captain on a first name basis do you?"

"Haven't actually seen hide nor hair of the Captain, so I couldn't say," Zaren murmured easily. It was like talking to a child. Well, talking to most people was, really. They were so intent on being right, they didn't see what they were doing. Hadn't he been standing there when he'd first seen Eve, talked to her, called her by name, and said nothing? "I didn't come here to argue with you, just to talk. It... kind of seems like you're actively looking for things to dislike."

"Mr Zaren, I'm not trying to find things to dislike you....I just have to place the safety and comfort of this crew above anyone else who might happen to come aboard."

John was not deliberately trying to put anyone's nose out of joint with his attitude, in fact if anything he would rather keep everyone as quiet and unassuming as possible to make sure that there was no chance of a disturbance onboard during this mission.

"This crew look to me to protect them, and the last thing I want is one of my crew getting into difficulty because one of your team have asked them a question that they shouldn't be answering..."

"Above, yeah," Zaren agreed. "Maybe not so much in lieu of. I'll say it again, we're not axe murderers. We're interested in the Rojar system. The network's been starving for good positive news pieces to throw to their viewers since the war; infrastructures are crumbling, economies are unravelling, there are Romulan refugees spread far and wide. This would be one of those positive 'hey life doesn't suck' stories. You want to protect your crew, you talk to Trija. Talk to her, don't threaten her. You get her to even moderately appreciate you and she'll move mountains for you. She's solid like that." The Trill lifted a shoulder, "If you don't want your crew to answer certain questions - whatever those are - just tell them that. We can't control what they say. We can only be curious. That's our job." He hooked his thumbs in his pockets. "There's a lot to be curious about. And there should be," he added with a chuckle. "You're a research vessel. We should be churning out stories on the possibilities of new worlds, what it's like to stand on the threshhold of discovery, the thrill of... I don't know... microbes and foreign thunder patterns. Not tiptoeing around because we were met with hammers." He lifted his brows, "Just throwing that out there."

"If it's legitimate news and doesn't involve combing through Galileo's database for our hidden little secrets - of which there are none - then I won't stop you doing your jobs...just as long as you don't stop me doing mine. Agreed?"

John realised that there was no way he would win this in a straight war of words. The press always had some method of getting what they wanted even if others had tried to stop it, so it was futile to try and continue.

"Great." The Trill offered his hand to shake on it. "Agreed."

With a smirk, the XO reached out his hand and grasped the one offered by the Trill firmly, two leaders with one purpose.

"Agreed."

"Our harmony in mind, I'll leave you to it." Zaren lifted his chin, the third eye inked into his throat staring calmly and expectantly at Holliday. "If you've got a few minutes when you're not on duty, I'd love to pick your brain over the Romulan relocations." Thanks to Jool's youthful spite and pride, the refugees on MS1 had water to last them, and Pilin and Bele would see to food. It wasn't an answer, but it was a bandage that gave time for permanent solutions to be found. "Another time?"

"Another time." John replied with a nod. He had spent enough time working on the Romulan front to still have a relatively good knowledge of the situation, however, this was neither the time, nor the place. That discussion, would have to wait.

[OFF]

CMDR Jonathan Holliday
Executive Officer
USS Galileo

Raifi Zaren
FNN Journalist
USS Galileo
(pNPC Lilou Peers)

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