CTO office - All the Paperwork and no increase in pay

Posted July 17, 2019, 2:52 a.m. by Captain Kelly Bordeaux (Commanding Officer) (Kate O'Neill)

Posted by Captain Kelly Bordeaux (Commanding Officer) in CTO office - All the Paperwork and no increase in pay

Posted by Lieutenant Commander Ethan Nash (Chief Tactical Officer) in CTO office - All the Paperwork and no increase in pay

Posted by Lieutenant Commander Ethan Nash (Chief Tactical Officer) in CTO office - All the Paperwork and no increase in pay

Posted by Captain Kelly Shultz (Commanding Officer) in CTO office - All the Paperwork and no increase in pay

Posted by Lieutenant Commander Ethan Nash (Chief Tactical Officer) in CTO office - All the Paperwork and no increase in pay

Posted by Captain Kelly Shultz (Commanding Officer) in CTO office - All the Paperwork and no increase in pay

Posted by Lieutenant Commander Ethan Nash (Chief Tactical Officer) in CTO office - All the Paperwork and no increase in pay

Posted by Captain Kelly Shultz (Commanding Officer) in CTO office - All the Paperwork and no increase in pay
Kelly approached the tactical chief’s office with a box in her hands. Typically she would call an officer to her ready room in situations like this but Nash was not a typical officer nor was the subject matter she needed to discuss. Stopping in front of his office, Kelly looked at the small box in her hand. She hoped Nash would appreciate it. Kelly had used all the official channels at her disposal and several personal favors to procure the contents of the box. Taking a deep breath she reached out and palmed the door chime.

Captain Kelly Shultz

“In,” was the simple reply from behind the door and barely had it faded than the near silent swish announced that entry to Nash’s Office was open.

Through the door, Nash was standing behind his desk, bent forwards and hands on the table. Strewn across the desk were a number of PaDDs, cigar butts and a bottle of tequila sat, unopened, on one corner. Nash’s old coin and flip lighter lay on the table next to him.

Looking up, he saw his visitor was Kelly and his eyes narrowed slightly, especially when he spotted the box. “Do you have any idea how little ‘Intelligence’ is held by the brass at Command? You just gave me this job so that you could sit back and drink more coffee didn’t you.” His tone was stern and straight, but Kelly knew him well enough to note the brief change in his eyes, the flicker of his brow that hid the smirk.

“That better not be the ashes of your enemies,” he said, indicating the box. “I’m supposed to find things out, not hide evidence. Come in and make yourself at home, Captain.” He put two tumblers on the table then sat down, and put his feet up straight onto the assorted PaDDs as he leaned back in his chair, letting it make an obnoxious creak.

Lt Cmdr Nash, CTIO

“Well it appears Starfleet command has picked out the best candidate for the position,” she said sauntering into the room. “You are already hard at work doing,” she half glanced at the images on the PaDD’s and tried not to shudder. Most people saw intelligence work as shuttle chases, shadowy meetings, and disguises. The reality was it was ninety-nine percent analyzing information. Kelly knew first hand it wasn’t that. She found this out for herself after a heavy night of drinking with Dante and Ric back at the academy. One night during the fall semester of their plebe year, the three of them had decided to change majors and go intelligence. The excitement of espionage faded as quickly as their first field class. Ric, Kelly, and Dante sat for twelve hours in a vehicle taking notes of people entering and exiting a building. The next twelve hours resulted in matching names with the faces that had entered the building. The final twelve hours of the weekend introductory class involved filling in blanks on dossiers of the faces that they had matched with names from the previous day.

When they finally returned back to campus the three of them changed their majors back to security and never looked back. Ethan, however, was now assigned the job of matching faces to people and creating dossiers until his eyes crossed. “Can I get one of those,” Kelly pointed to the bottle at the edge of the table.

Captain Kelly Shultz

Nash looked at her and raised an eyebrow. “Sure, sit.” He said offhandedly and leaned forwards, feet still on the table. It was a position he had clearly considered and chosen with care so that the bottle, and his cigars were within easy reach. It also revealed another clearly carefully considered effect, another loud and obnoxious creak of the chair that Nash had likely spent hours perfecting just to annoy unwelcome guests in his office.

Picking up the tequila he spun the top, then carefully poured two measures of the liquid into the tumblers before nudging one across the desk with one finger. The obligatory loud creak followed as he shifted his body weight, then raised his tumbler. “So to what do I owe the pleasure of the Captains company? That is evidence you want me to destroy, isn’t it.”

Lt Cmdr Nash, CTIO

“No it’s a gift,” Kelly said and set the box on his desk just far enough from him that he would have to stretch to get it, “for later. I went to a lot of trouble to get this for you. I had to call in some markers and pretty much laid my career on the line.” Kelly picked up the shot and threw it back. She let her mouth pucker a bit and tilted her head to the side indicating she was analyzing the drink. “God that was smooth. Like butter smooth with so little alcohol taste,” Kelly reached out for the bottle and poured another shot. This time she held it in her mouth. Kelly was not a teetotaler by any stretch of the imagination. Sucking on the mouth full of liquid to let it flow over her entire tongue, Kelly held it for the required time and then swallowed. “God this is good. HInts of smoked oak, vanilla, caramel, and spices but with a honey base,” she let the last ingredient float in the air like a question.

Nash didn’t say a word, just looked at her with a raised eyebrow and lifted his own tumbler to his lips and tilted it back. Outwardly he didn’t flinch or change, except for a slight twitch of the corner of one mouth in recognition of the Tequila’s powerful flavours. He simply reached forward, letting his chair creak again in recognition and placed the tumbler on the edge of the desk.

“Does this have blue agave in it,” Kelly asked. “God I am glad you like the good stuff.” Letting out a deep sigh, Kelly started to feel relaxed.

“If your going to drink, it’s only right that you drink the good stuff. Anything else is a waste of time and effort,” Nash told her and then reached forward and took the bottle from where Kelly left it, filling his own and Kelly’s tumbler as well. “It does have the Blue Agave, it’s not worth trying anything else. I decided to open it as a sort of Promotional present to myself, seeing as I’m such a good sport and happy to help doing jobs I don’t particularly care about. There isn’t anything in those reports a good torpedo won’t fix if the Admirals had the cojones to do what was right. Captain.” He pushed her tumbler back to her and lifted his own, seconds later that being emptied as well.

She drummed the table with her palms a few times beating out a rhythm for a second. “So are you going to pour me a drink in a big girl glass or keep passing it out in sippy cups? You know I am a beer or booze kinda girl.” It had been a while since she and Nash kicked back and downed a bottle of the hard stuff. Both of them were busy and he was typically in command of one of the bridge shifts daily. This meant they were two ships in the night passing in the halls. The analogy reminded her of their first meeting. Another shot or two and she would see if he remembered it as well.

Captain Kelly Shultz

“Captain,” he said, emphasizing the word. It wasn’t out of ‘respect’ however and Kelly knew it was a tease of quite the opposite intention. Kelly was a friendly, team first kinda leader and liked to get to know her senior staff on a more personal level, even insisting they call her Kelly in private. Nash seemed to take a gruff delight in refusing to use her first name at any time, and in some way had seemed to turn the word ‘Captain’ into a teasing insult. Kelly also knew Nash well enough to know that if he bothered to do that, and do it to your face, then it was an admission of affection and respect that was far more telling of the way that the man felt about you. That he had shared is booze without a second thought just confirmed the respect he had for her.

“Lieutenant Commander,” she let the words roll off her tongue matching his tone as she settled back in the chair. Nash had the personality and demeanor to scare cadets down washout lane with a single glance, yet anyone that held their ground and looked deeper saw a man that would never flinch from your side. Nash had a sense of loyalty that was rival by few Kelly had met. He didn’t trust easily and when you broke that trust god helps you because no one else could.

“The last time I got you a drink in a big girl glass, you threw something somewhere and blamed me, and started a bar fight with an entire bar that ended with the destruction of a Science Station on Rho Puppis. You know that if that station hadn’t exploded I would have won that fight too.” He picked up the bottle again and filled his tumbler a third time, then offered her the bottle.

“Promises promises,” Kelly skipped the glass and took a swig straight from the bottle. “And if you aren’t giving me that glass I am going to just pass the bottle.” She let out a deep relaxed sigh and got up. She had only been in his office twice. Both times she had needed something and knew where it was. Moving around the desk to his side she patted his foot twice. It wasn’t a romantic gesture at all. It was the time held gesture of one individual to another telling them to move that body part. The way he was reclined in the chair, his legs were positioned in the typical one leg crossed over another style men used so that their bent knee was 90 degrees over the other with their foot sticking out horizontally. Currently, this foot was blocking her access to the first drawer of his desk.

“If you are going to make me get up and get my own glass the least you could do is move your own foot,” she pulled open the drawer not caring if it hit him. Unlike most people that hide their liquor in the bottom drawer of a desk, Nash had his in plain sight, boldly displayed along with an assortment of drinking wear in the top drawer. Nash was not the type of guy that hid his intentions or motives from anyone. Events in his life had shown him life moves too fast. Nash was not an arsehole like so many read from his body language and words. He was actually very simple. He didn’t have time for bootlicking or pandering to garner favors from the elite of Starfleet. He got the job done because a job needed to be done. That is why his liquor was in the top drawer. He needed a daily swig to put up with the daily barrage of memos and pompous Admirals using everyone below them to make themselves look better.

Kelly only knew it was there because of the last time she was in his office drafting a letter to Admiral Perkins. Grabbing a glass, she walked back to her seat, poured what was probably three shots worth, and slide the bottle back to him. “You suck at kissing a superior officer’s arse you know that Nash,” she took a swallow of her drink.

“I think for all of our safety I better get you that cask wine that you seem to like so much. You can’t hide it Captain, I’m the Chief of Intel see and I’ve seen the reports of what you bring in for personal use. I have to do something worthwhile with all of this junk information I have access to now.” He put down his third tumbler and looked at her, then at the box and raised his eyebrow.

Lt Cmdr Nash, CTIO

“Pfft, that is fruit punch with a kick. It is not wine. It is just enough to get me through a fleet dinner.” Taking another big draw on her cup, Kelly could feel herself slipping into the past tipsy but not sloppy drunk stage. It had been a long day. That was why she was in Nash’s office. She needed someone to vent to.

“Did you know that if you lose one of your senses the others are enhanced? That is why people with no sense of humor have a heightened sense of self-worth,” she announced holding her cup to the side as she talked. The liquid in it swirled in the cup but did not spill over. “Perkins has no sense of humor. I am guessing he is missing not only the ability to see the crap he is shoveling but also the ability to hear the crap that comes out of his mouth every time he engages in an official ‘hey do you have a minute’ conversation.”

Captain Kelly Bordeaux.

Bump


Notes on USS Atlantis

In topic

Posted since


© 1991-2019 STF. Terms of Service

Version 1.7.5