STF

Deck 5- Hiding Out

Posted June 9, 2022, 9:05 a.m. by Lieutenant Miranda Martel (Chief Engineer) (Sam Haynes)

Posted by Commander Shara Calloway (Chief Intelligence Officer) in Deck 5- Hiding Out

Posted by Lieutenant Commander Eulailia Dacascos (Chief Operations Officer) in Deck 5- Hiding Out

Posted by Lieutenant Miranda Martel (Chief Engineer) in Deck 5- Hiding Out
Posted by… suppressed (1) by the Post Ghost! 👻

(snip)

Bethany stepped into the darkened room, passing by Martel and squeezing her shoulder. “Smells like we’re drinkin’ shine. If you want different you know where I keep it. Help yourself.” Bethany slid down beside Calloway, picked up the shimmering jar and blinked as the fumes burned the eyes and nose. Good Stuff. She tipped the jar back for a swallow, set the jar down and then her whole body shook and twitched as it went down.

Gadi, CoS

There were all sorts of hiding places, even in a smaller cabin like this. Especially if one knew their way around the innards behind the bulkheads. Engineers and Security/Intelligence folks tended to know where all the ‘slicks’ were. The former because they always stumbled across stuff when working and made notes. The latter because they were the ones having to find the hidden stuff. Or secure it away for themselves when on an operation. While Miranda hadn’t’ had to fix anything in here, Gadi was good about doing her own repairs and was no doubt certified in Tactical Engineering, she could imagine where to look easily. More than that though, she’d been on ths hip long enough, and given free-reign of the space that she did know where most everything was first go. Randi considered for a moment then decided to pass, ultimately. Wasn’t the first time she’d wound up drinkin’ absolute hooch shine. This couldn’t’ be any worse.

Eulailia waited for Gadi to finish taking her drink then she held her hands out for the jar. She had never drunk shine but what the heck she was down for it and when in Rome Do As the Romans Do, right?

“I have a second jar here unopened but I don’t trust everyone else with it yet not to be knocked on their asses, so I’ll wait and see who can handle it.” Tipping her head back and her gaze to the ceiling, Shara closed her eyes and sighed. “Sixteen goddamn years. Sixteen! Never once have I ever broken character. And hell, I’ve sworn in meetings before. Usually it’s this jackass of an Admiral in Intelligence I clash with. We can’t stand each other, but he knows how good I am in the field and he was rather unhappy with my decision to retire from field work. But who gets me to break character in all of this mess? Some punk-ass kid counsellor.” Shara reached for the jar and took a swig, putting it back where the others could grab it. “I am not looking forward to sleep tonight.” A simple statement but one for Shara that was more ominous with her issues.

Commander Calloway, CIO

Eyeing the second jar and before taking a drink, Eulailia finally asked Shara, “What happened to you?” It wasn’t supposed to sound like it sounded but she really wanted to know. “I mean I don’t want to be all in your business but....are you okay? If I did anything in the conference room today to....irritate you. I am sorry. I was just surprised because you seemed....angry. However, there is more to it than that… isn’t it? There is something bother you.”

She smelled the shine first then closed her eyes and took a large drink. First, her eyes watered, a lot, then she started to cough violently as the hooch spilled from her mouth and some of it from her nose too.

Dacascos, COO

Randi scooted over to the others, settling next to Dacascos but closer to Gadi and sighed, partially decompressing, and partially from her own stroll down the terrible side of memory lane. When she had a chance she took the jar and took a good swig, letting it trail fire all the way down, drawing out a couple of quick coughs. “Ugh, wooo, that’s pretty stout.” Then again, it had been two years since she’d had anything stronger than a beer or two.

Martel, grease monkey

“From our still,” Shara said, allowing a smirk to touch her lips. “Never thought I’d be married to man who owned a still, but hey, life Is surprising.” She took a sip and passed the jar on.

After a moment, Calloway looked over at Dacascos. “You know, sometimes the emotion on the surface isn’t the one that’s actually there. You didn’t make me angry, you made me scared, kid. And I don’t say kid to be derogatory. It’s the reality that I’m sixty-five years old and I spent most of the last two decades having the fear trained out me. Existing in situations where fear gets you killed. It’s not that you don’t have it. It’s there. But you learn to stuff it down so far that it can’t play a role.”

“What happened to me is that I retired from covert work, from field assignments and I had some knock down verbal arguments with my uppers to get to have that. I’m not supposed to be doing this work, Laila. I’m supposed to be doing a normal duty assignment so that my daughters know where their mom is. I’m supposed to be moving froward from a really chaotic time where I upended one daughter’s life and got to finally meet my other daughter. Instead, here I am, doing the same old work but without the safety mechanisms. I can’t stuff it down the way I need to. Not fully. And that makes me a liability because what’s wrong is that, and I’m not ashamed of people knowing this, but I have PTSD. It’s a result of the last Op I went on and I had it under control until recently. Now?” Shara shrugged. “I’m just trying to not be a liability and get people killed here.”

Commander Calloway, CIO

Miranda sighed, a mixture of decompressing some, and in empathy. “Well, you’re not alone there, Chief. I’ve not really done any cloak and dagger work. Not my specialty. Making stuff is, and making sure everything works like it’s supposed to is.” She glanced between the three of them. “Gadi already knows this. I don’t know if you’ve looked at my file. I’m sure you could get in there too,” she said, focusing on Dacascos. At the same time she decided she liked the name Laila, it actually made her smile a little, internally. “Couple years ago, the Shamshir was on patrol, and we were near a nebula a lot like the one we just left. Got hit with an electronic warfare package and an ion beam that tore down most of our defensive capabilities. Oh temporarily of course. Well they boarded us. Hit us with anestazine. What holdouts there were folded up fast. The rounded us up, put us in the cargo bays. Our chief engineer managed to lock out the main computer before they went down. So they wanted ht codes to get back in ” Her expression dropped and she snagged the jar, taking a long drink. the fumes burned her nose, and made her eyes water. Or at least that’s what she told herself.

She’d told the story enough that she knew she could get through it. They didn’t need all of the worst details. But enough. “I knew my chief. Was a good person, but would crack like an egg. We couldn’t afford to lose such a vital piece of military hardware like a Federation warship. So I stole his rank pip, put it on, told them I was the chief and had locked out the computer. I hoped it would give time for rescue or for the rest of the crew to re-take the Shamshir.” Her expression dropped and she took another smaller sip, then offered it to whoever wanted. “They had a hold of me for a long time. Did pretty much whatever they wanted, and whatever they thought would get me to talk.”

Miranda let that silence hang for a long time, like acrid smoke.

“So… This whole operation is pretty triggering. I went through a year of intensive therapy and flew a desk, until it was starting to chafe. I wanted to get out and back to … exploration. But either somebody higher up in Starfleet really believes in me, or this is some cruel, sick joke. Or I’m in one elaborate nightmare that I can’t wake up from.” She took a deep breath and let it out slow, shifting a little to get more comfortable on the floor. “I do remember that the only thing that got me through the initial things was clinging to task and purpose. The medals and awards are cold comfort. I didn’t do it for that, but to protect the people next to me.”

She focused on Calloway for a moment. “So it’s different, but… You’re not alone on the PTSD front.” She looked over to Laila. “So while I don’t know this specific group, I’ve met plenty exactly like this. I could have become one of them if I hadn’t decided to join Starfleet instead. It scares the hell out of me to be back in a similar position. At the same time, it scares me that I could wind up just like ‘em, after all that’s been done to me. And then with Starfleet breathing down our necks, the very people I sacrificed so much of myself for, likely to wind up as stardust… or enjoying a prison somewhere… for doing my job. It’s a real effin’ pickle.”

“But at least these two can help, rather than stumbling around completely blind when things are bad. They’ve been here before.” That brought out a momentary and wry if not sardonic smile. Just for a second or two.

Martel, messed up monkey


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