Ouranked and Out-numbered

Posted on Thu Apr 2nd, 2009 @ 1:08pm by Captain Elsie Halliwell

2,467 words; about a 12 minute read

Mission: Wolves in Sheep's Clothing
Location: Lane's Ready Room / Citadel Prime
Timeline: Current

ON:

Commander Lane waited impatiently in his ready room for the call. Having devoured his third cup of coffee within the hour, his hands were trembling with the caffeine coursing through his blood. He sat at his window-seat and looked out into and the field of stars beyond the glass. Anything to take his mind off the situation on the surface.

He took another sip of the acrid brew and the salted taste began to pound in his head. Overdone it again, he thought, as he squinted his blue eyes, and applied the pressure of his fingertips to the skin around them. He then placed the empty beaker down onto the surface of the table before him, sliding it underneath the soft shadows cast by the yellow daffodils that rose proudly out of the crystal vase that encased their stems. Suddenly, the control panel on his desk chirped and the comm. screen gently arose from the innards of the desk smoothly.

Lane jumped up from the seat and made for his desk. As he sat down heavily in his chair, he tapped at the controls and the face of his First Officer appeared.

"Commander Lane," Arkham said smoothly, shifting position a little in her chair. She'd been mildly uncomfortable since the surgery, and it hadn't gotten too much better. Technically she probably shouldn't have even been up and about yet -- however, after quite a bit of arguing she'd managed to convince the doctors to let her hobble about with a cane. "Sorry to keep you waiting, Coltan. It's not so easy for me to get comfortable these days."

"Ah, Rowena," he said as he eyes laid on his first officer. "It's good to see you. My mind's been wracked with worry since I received the communication from Carter." He allowed a little smile of comfort to sneak across his jaw. "Her… report wasn't altogether detailed, but that is to be understandable considering."

The sense of unease that had been welling up inside the Trill since he had been aware of the Commander's 'altercation' now dissipated like bubbles in his belly. "What happened, Rowena? And HOW did it happen??"

"I'm not even all that sure, to be honest," the Commander admitted, "The meeting was taking a turn for the worst -- the Salarians are trying to accuse us of attempting an occupation of Citadel Space, rather than the aid mission we're working toward. As an argument among the council sent the room into chaos, an individual on the floor above took the opportunity to shoot me. Ballistic weaponry -- clearly this group or individual isn't particularly well-funded, if that's what they're using. Bullet thumped around in me for a few moments before lodging itself in my kidney, which has since been removed."

Arkham shifted in her chair a little, managing to keep the evidence of her discomfort limited to a small grimace that was gone nearly as quickly as it had come in the first place. "From there I've sent Hughes to calm down the diplomats. Carter is at the CIC last I heard, with Mr. Shran. He didn't like that, but I think there are very...few people" --Arkham glared off to someone or something on the side for a moment-- "who would break into a field hospital to find me."

"As long as it keeps that way, Rowena," he said with a chuckle, noticing the flick of her eye but saying nothing.

Arkham smirked a bit before continuing. "I know my orders were to return Earthside for the time being until I was feeling a bit better. But...my orders have changed a bit, dare I say? And a lot of it I can't explain. I will be returning to the Archimedes. And I will not be alone."

"Commander?" Lane replied, not so much intrigued but concerned. "Orders from whom? And who's your guest to be?"

Gesturing off to the side, Arkham angled the camera device to display Alexandra Harwood, the lithe young woman who had joined her but a day before at the field hospital. For the sake of appearance, she'd since traded out her original uniform for the red of a command officer -- four solid gold pips on her collar marked her a Captain.

"Hello, Commander," she said smoothly, moving a bit of blonde hair out of her face and pushing her black rimmed glasses a little farther up the bridge of her nose. "Captain Alexandra Harwood. I have received orders from my organization that I will be serving as your mission advisor for the remaining portion of your time in Citadel Space."

"Greetings, Captain," the Trill replied curtly. Looking directly at his first officer, Lane furrowed his brow and locked it. "I… apologise for my ignorance, Captain - your organisation?" he asked, attempting to quash the worry that seemed to well up inside of him again.

"I'm sorry, but that information is...highly privileged," Harwood said quietly, looking at the Executive Officer for a moment, whose features hardly betrayed the worry she was feeling, even if Harwood knew it was there. "But you can rest assured, my presence here is in the best interests of the Task Force, the Fleet, and the United Federation of Planets as a whole, Commander."

"I know this is probably confusing, Coltan," Arkham said quietly. "But it has to happen. Like I said...my orders have changed and my hands -- and yours, for that matter -- are quite tied. There are...concerns as to how the Citadel Sectors are being handled by the Task Force--"

"Concerns?" Harwood scoffed, looking at Arkham incredulously. "You've been shot, Commander. I think 'concerns' is a definite understatement. The Citadel Sectors are a large, and at the moment, highly unstable region. If this continues, Commander Arkham's kidney is going to be the least of our problems, thank you. And I am here to ensure that such a thing does not happen, Commander Lane, for the sake of the entire Federation."

Lane locked his brow further and then rubbed his forehead with an open hand in a slight hint of distress. The Trill was not used to being left 'out of the loop', so to speak, and even less accustomed to being out of control. "You'll forgive me the rudeness, Captain, but none of this seems to have gone through the official channels. I'm… at a loss, to be quite frank with you. You come from outside of the Task Force?"

"Yes, I am from an outside agency, Commander," Harwood said coolly. "But as to which one or who is dispensing my orders, I'm afraid that neither of us can tell you that."

The Trill shook his head and then fixed his blue eyes, once more, upon his XO. "Commander, a word with you in private," he then looked toward Captain Harwood, "if you'll excuse us, Captain."

Harwood nodded, "Of course, Commander Lane I understand that this is a lot to digest. I hope Rowena can clear things up."

"Thank you," Lane replied, not truly meaning the sentiment. As the woman appeared to leave the two command officers alone, the Trill simply raised his hand in an almost dumb-founded gesture. "Commander?" he asked, with a slight leather on his voice.

"I'm sorry, Coltan," Arkham said quietly. "But I'm not sure what I can add. I worked with Captain Harwood some years ago, but I really...Coltan, my hands are tied. There's not much I can do except ask you to trust me. I will not ask you to trust Alex Harwood. But for the time being...everything we do goes through her for reasons I cannot disclose…"

"Commander," his tone turned professional and almost cold, "I take my orders from Commodore Dean, and you know this. I shall need his office to verify her… position before allowing her to come aboard in an official capacity." He changed tact a little and altered his tone. "Rowena, it's not that I don’t trust you, but I will not hand over my ship to Section 31. No matter what uniform it disguises itself in." With this, Lane cast out his rod, hoping to get a bite for his troubles. Knowing what was released to him about his First Officer's service record, it was the most logical attempt to gain a handle on who was pulling whose strings.

"Don't you think I know that?" Arkham said sharply. "You have you understand, I am in no more control than you are. I...Alex gives me some leeway considering I am...closely acquainted with her. She knew me in my youth. And she cuts me some slack for everything we once meant to each other. But I have...I have my orders too, Commander. And you of all people know full well that her position cannot be verified by any normal means."

Lane sat there, holding his chin in his hand and fixing his eyes onto the injured woman before him. "I don't like this, Rowena. Something about her arrival casts a shadow over my heart, and I can't tell you for why."

"I can vouch for Alex Harwood -- she's a good person, underneath it all, and unlike most of my colleagues she's reasonable. She won't interfere unless she has to," Arkham said quietly. "More than that, she's got a sense of justice that...isn't common to a woman who's been in her line of work as long as she has."

Lane looked away from the screen for a moment, and stared out into the black abyss that lay beyond the glass. The stars twinkled with a newness he had never noticed before; a fresh sheen to their radiance. "Commander. If we are going to work as a team, as a united front to take this great ship of ours and carve a little path in history, then we need to trust each other. My priority is the Federation, as, I am sure, yours is, also. And I do trust you. But, let me make one thing clear: You take your orders from me. You turned your back on Intelligence the moment you accepted my offer of your command commission. Your loyalties must lie with the Archimedes and her crew. And I will not be used as a pawn in some strategic dance of power. Is that understood?"

Arkham sighed, shaking her head a little. This was never going to be easy, but it could have definitely gone better than it had. She hated doing this -- if she had her way, she would have shielded the ship's crew from the politics of the fleet forever. Letting a breath out slowly, Arkham said, "I'm sorry, Coltan. But I can't...make promises right now. Because I work for people that you can't really turn your back on. I had to do this to prevent something worse, Coltan, and I need to respect their orders. But you know as well as I, that every time I have a bit of grey and a choice in the matter, I will side with the Arch."

"Rowena," he said, almost like a man suffering from a broken heart, "that's not good enough. If all else fails, I need to know that I can rely on the people around me, my crew. You." The Trill looked out across his ready room again, and sighed. The daffodils seemed so vibrant and fragrant, so vital. Turning back to look at her, his face cracked. "Don't give me a reason to relieve you of Command, Rowena. I do trust you. But… the Arch comes first for me and you know that."

Arkham nodded, smirking a little and rubbing her sore jaw with one hand. "I know, Commander. But at the moment, I don't know if I am necessarily allowed to say the same for me right now. There's a greater good, Commander Lane, and it's tough to swallow at points, but...the Captain is correct. We need to consider the good of the quadrant...not just one ship. No matter how invested in it we may be."

"I didn’t take this Command for my own reasons… or glory, Rowena," he replied, solemnly. "You know that much. I'm here for the greater good, to advance interests of the Federation, too. But I will not allow my ship to be overrun with blackened figures." He sighed, and then laughed out of frustration. "Aren't we supposed to be a Science vessel? Discovering new worlds and new vegetation… Scanning tectonic plate movements… Being scientists. Not all this cloak and dagger crap!"

"Yes, because that's why we're here," Arkham said quietly. "The fact is, this mission has never been a scientific endeavor. Unless we plan on scientifically analyzing how having only one kidney due to being shot at a diplomatic proceeding is going to impact my future quality of life. There's nothing scientific about this mission, Coltan, and you know it. What's been scientific about this entire task force? Why should this surprise you?"

"What surprises me, Rowena, is how this is all unfolding before my very eyes, and I seem to bear little control over its course…" He stopped to take a breath. "Is this what we have become? On our first damned mission? We need to see eye to eye on this one way or another. If we become divided then so does the ship, and when the proverbial does hit the fan, who will save us?"

Arkham's eyes grew hard and cold, and she smirked a little at the Commander. She shifted uncomfortably in her chair. "I have little more control over this than you do, Commander. I have my superiors as well -- and strangely enough, that includes young Alex Harwood now. Heh, I never thought I'd live to see that. At this point however...I think we're a bit late to talk about being divided, Coltan. If we can't agree now, it's fairly obvious that it's only going to get worse."

"Then you leave me no choice, Rowena," he said, his voice breaking as the woods loosely hung in the air before them. "Welcome Captain Harwood onboard with my compliments…" He sighed, and turned, once more, away from the screen.

Arkham nodded. If the old monster had a heart, it might have broken -- instead, she was certain that her sanity gave an almost imperceptible shudder. "Of course sir. That goes without saying. We'll be beaming up by this time tomorrow, Commander."

"Direct all of your needs to Petty Officer Andrews. He'll arrange her some VIP quarters for you. And I'll see you when you get back." Without waiting for her reply, he simply, and detachedly said, "Lane out," and closed the comm. channel.


OFF:

Commander Coltan Lane
Commanding Officer

AND

Commander Rowena Arkham
Executive Officer

 

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