Posted Feb. 10, 2020, 1:05 a.m. by Fleet Captain Kelly Bordeaux (Commanding Officer) (Kate O'Neill)
Posted by Lieutenant Commander Ethan Nash (Chief Tactical Officer) in Main reception room Perkins meets Nash at the Christening of the New USS Atlantis D
Posted by Fleet Captain Kelly Bordeaux (Commanding Officer) in Main reception room Perkins meets Nash at the Christening of the New USS Atlantis D
OCC. okay you don’t have to RP this if you don’t want to. I was just trying something past the boring meeting or conference. I am going to set up a scene just to get it started. If you don’t like it please erase what I said about what you were doing and create your own setting. I will role with it. I am doing these all simultaneously so that people have a chance to post if they want to. I also went into your bio and pulled the stuff about your character paraphrasing it. I wanted it to seem like Perkins knew of it but allow you to elaborate. If I got anything wrong we can just lead me where you need it to go.~Kate.Admiral Perkins surveyed the room. Kelly’s crew seemed distinctly loyal but there was always one. One officer that could be tempted to see the benefits of a casual relationship and the perks random updates could bring. Information was always more powerful than weapons. As he surveyed the room Perkins debates where to start. He had the dossiers on everyone. Now it was time to play on the cracks in their armor. Power was all about promises and Perkins was all about promises.
So far the night was going well. He had laid the seeds of friendship with some of Kelly’s crew. While planting with a few was like cultivating a crop on pure granite, the act was still done. There were a few more however Perkins needed to touch base with. The next on his list was one Lt. Commander Ethan James Nash. The mans career was one of promise and disappointment. He was a exemplary officer rising through the ranks until the colony incident. After the incident Nash’s name caused a viscreal reaction whenever it was mentioned. There were those that served with him beforehand who almost lost their careers when he was jailed. There were those that had spent a better part of six years a using their clout and careers to free him from the Starfleet Prison Facility in New Zealand. These men and women supported Nash with an almost radical loyalty. As with every coin there was a second side. There were the people that did not see Nash’s role in the defense of the colony as something heroic. While his actions saved lives it was dangerous not dealing with someone who disobeyed order which Perkins could never back. When he gave an order it was meant to be followed without question however, Nash might serve a purpose in time. That was why Perkins would lay the ground work for it.
“Lt. Commander Nash,” Perkins said walking up to the man who was avoiding people but acting like he wasn’t avoiding people. “I would like to say I am sorry about the events of the colony and how things afterward transpired. I lost people there too.” Personally I think you should still be in jail especially after knocking out the Admiral during the Court Martial hearing. Bloody savage. “You were a hero. Starfleet was wrong,” Perkins snagged to drinks off a passing tray handing one to Nash. Perkins took a large swallow downing the contents. Then he flipped over the glass. This was a long standing tradition in the military. Drinking to someone that was lost. It could also be taken as Perkins toasting Nash and all that he lost. It could also be just a ploy, going through the actions. Depending on Nash’s next move, Perkins would get a glimpse at what was running through the officer’s head.
Perkins
Nash took the glass from the Admiral and watched the man take the drink, then flip the glass. It wasn’t exactly audible but he sighed, drank the drink he had been handed in one and then flipped it over likewise next to the Admirals and brought this eyes back onto the him. “So you lost people as well? That must have been hard for you. I’m sure anybody there who was of any importance to you was on the first evacuation ship out though, right?” Nash reached up and deliberately undid his top button on his tunic, then smiled. “This is for my wife, may her loss never be used as a sympathy card by anyone wearing the same pips as you.” Then Nash struck fast, hard and practised by many a bar fight since his time in Prison. His fist impacted Perkins under the jaw and with enough force that the sound rang out across the meeting room, and flung the Admiral back bodily into the o’dourves table, flipping it over with a crash and ending with the Admirals feet sticking up and over the edge of the table. Looking around at the stunned crowd, Nash simply shrugged and took the cigar stub out of his pocket, and clamped it between his teeth.
Nash felt the breath he had been holding for barely a second slide out slowly, and he blinked a few times and looked down. The pleasant fantasy of the desire reaction lasted only a moment and the drink was still in his hand, but he reached into his tunic and pulled out the small flask he carried with him everywhere. Pulling the top off, he poured a measure of the much stronger liquid into the half full glass Perkins had given him and then raised it in a toast of his own, tipping it down his throat slowly and watching Perkins the entire time. He had after all promised the Captain he would behave, for now.
Perkins released a breath a half second after Nash’s. For a moment he thought that he had unleashed a hella fury upon himself. Nothing in the mans demeanor or actions betrayed what was going on in the officers head except his eyes. For a second something seemed to flash there. Had Perkins hit a nerve? Every man had a breaking point. Every man had something he would sell his soul to the devil for. Maybe just maybe Perkins found the one weak link in the depths of Nash’s soul.
“I was no hero,” Nash said to him, and placed the glass the right side up on a tray as the next waiter passed then slid his flask back into his tunic pocket. “I did what I had to do by the oath I took as an Officer. Starfleet wasn’t wrong, they were cowards who forgot their honor. My family and the families of many others paid the price of Starfleet’s Admirals being scared of making a choice and taking responsibility for it. The needs of the many they called it. The dead don’t give a damn about the needs of the Many, Sir. Neither do I.” Nash reached up and scratched his jaw a moment, then looked around the room before his gaze fell back onto Perkins. “My name and face is toxic to your image,” he said it easily, like it was a well known fact. “What do you want Perkins, your kind doesn’t associate with my kind unless you want something.”
Lt Cmdr Nash, CTIO
“I don’t like the word hero. I never have. Life is not Superman or Batman or Particle Woman who zips in and saves them day. Life is not a Disney movie where the handsome prince of daring princess risks it all and comes out on top of a trial. You travel through the crucible of hell and you come out burned. Those scars aren’t removed with the wave of a tricorder as we see in the movies. Scars run deep and never heal. The world hero makes me think of someone we post on the annual recruitment poster,” Perkins paused to take a sip of his drink.
Taking a long second to stare out the window of the vast emptiness of space. Now was the time to probe at the information Perkins was seeking. It had to be subtle. It had to have a hook and leave Nash thrashing in the water like a shared fish, debating over and over tantalized by what Perkins might have alluded to in the conversation. Nash would take far more work to cultivate but the fire and passion in the man was undeniable. “You may not know this but my favorite genre is the western. Raw and rugged where a man can live by his ideals. The good guys get their revenge and the bad guys get their comeuppance. Tell me Commander what genre is your favorite?”
Perkins
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