Commodores and Romulans

Posted on Fri Jul 14, 2017 @ 9:54pm by Commodore Michael Aravan & Lieutenant JG Mirok

Mission: Strange Matter
Location: Ready Room
Timeline: MD 25 || 0900 Hours

After reporting aboard to the XO, Mirok contemplated pretending to be on the wrong ship, but he knew he had to report in to the CO at some point, and decided now was as good a time as ever.

He jabbed at the chime to the CO's ready room, tugging on his uniform nervously.

"Enter!" A male voice filled with confidence in his authority called out and the doors slide aside to reveal a huge black-surfaced table which dominated the center of the room which had a dozen chairs around it. Plants were at the corners of the room and most of one wall was filled with shelves which contained over a dozen species of bonsai trees, some elaborately sculpted around tree houses, some made to look like homes built into the ground and others that looked like they were just starting. Another table off to one side held a decanter of strong black coffee with several cups around it, a bowl containing sweetener and another for some type of cream.

Michael stood near the coffee table and looked up. "Can I help you?" he asked as he poured a mug of steaming black coffee.

"Lieutenant Mirok. Your new assistant security chief." Mirok said, crossing his arms as he stepped into the room. He let a faint smirk rest on his lips, ready to begin his defiance as much as he could within regulations.

As soon the Lieutenant entered, a bio and weapon scanner built into the door scanned him and the personnel file appeared on the surface of the conference table. Michael finished adding two sugars to his coffee, then reached for a hypospray and pressed it to his neck before he put it on the stand.

He looked at the officer and gestured towards one of the seats around the table. "Have a seat, Lieutenant Mirok," he said as he took a sip of his coffee and looked at the file on the table which had every detail of Mirok's service record on it.

Mirok took a seat, and then shifted uncomfortably, knowing everything that was being read would be held against him.

Michael sat down across from the officer and glanced at the file again and then back at Mirok. "Tell me why I should allow you to stay on my ship, Lieutenant," he said simply.

Straight to the point. This is why I hate admirals. Mirok thought, "while I've had some issues in the past, sir, I've managed to put them behind me." It wasn't a total lie, since he hadn't actually punched someone in years.

"Fighting fellow cadets, not once but twice, and already appeared before a disciplinary committee," Michael read from the file on display. "That's not a good way to start your career, Lieutenant. I see, however, that you've had no incidents since then, which is good."

He paused to take another drink of his coffee before he set the mug down. "I'm former Security myself before I went into Command, so I could probably tell you a few things. However, I won't. That's no longer my job. Your job, however, will be to work with the Chief of Security, Lieutenant Mallory and the Chief of Tactical, Lieutenant Cusack and keeping the ship's Security and Tactical complement up to date on the latest drills, scheduling and various things. Are you up for a job that will require you to oversee nearly six hundred personnel?"

"If I wasn't I wouldn't be here." Mirok said, leaning back and crossing his arms. He was beginning to stand his ground already, even though he probably shouldn't.

Michael smiled. "This is true," he said as he leaned forward. "You see that I have access to everything in your file, so I want you to tell me something that isn't in your file."

"There's very little I won't do to protect the ship. If you want me to go against the Borg in a cube with just a knife, I will, as long as I see it benefiting me too." He hadn't realized that last part had come out verbally, and he sounded much more Romulan than he looked.

"As long as it's benefitting you?" Michael raised his left eyebrow in a manner that would make a Vulcan proud. "What benefits you, Mister Mirok, is serving Starfleet and the Federation to the best of your ability, regardless of personal gain. Your job is to serve and protect. Nothing more, nothing less."

Mirok cursed in Romulan, loudly. "Yes sir." Mirok slipped into his native tongue quite easily, "I'll do what I want. You can't stop me if you can't understand me."

"Get off my ship, Lieutenant," Michael said as the universal translator interpreted his words into perfect Standard.

After realizing what just happened, Mirok cleared his throat and sat up straighter, his arms uncrossed. "Sorry sir, won't happen again, I swear it."

"An hour on board and you've already pissed off a Commodore," Michael said, but remained seated. "Not to mention losing the use of the recreational for the first thirty days, which means no holodeck, no Promenade visits and nothing to fill your off time."

He paused. "No, I have an idea," he said. "In your odd numbered duty shifts, meaning every other day for the next month, you pick up another shift and train young Security and Tactical officers in proper etiquette when dealing with senior officers."

Mirok wasn't happy about it, but he got himself into this mess with his own mouth, so he get a short nod, "yes sir. Anything else?" He a managed to keep his tone respectful, and his temper in check.

"Yes," Michael said. "While we don't have an official counselor, you'll report to Morale Officer Walsh once a week and pay patients in Sickbay a visit to cheer them up."

That's the exact opposite of what I consider fun. Mirok thought, managing to keep this one just that, "yes sir."

"That's much better, Lieutenant," The Commodore said as he finished his coffee and got up. "If you persist in thinking that you will do whatever benefits you, I will have you assigned to polish every boot on this ship and cater to every senior officer on this ship until you beg to be transferred."

"Yes sir. You won't regret letting me stay, I'll make sure if that."

"If I do," Michael said. "I won't be the one regretting it. Now report to Medical for your physical, the Chiefs of Security and Tactical, then Operations to find your quarters."

"Yes sir." Mirok said, standing, saluting, and then exiting the room.