Coercion

[Charlotte Matsumura 0]

Coercion

CDR Malcolm Alexander (NPC)

CAPT James Clark (NPC)

***

 

 

 

Stuffing his hands down into the pockets of his trousers, Malcolm Alexander exhaled as he entered the Deputy Director's suite, forcing an aura of nonchalance he didn't feel. Captain James Clark, the Deputy Director of Operations, had been an Academy classmate and fellow intelligence cohort for many years. He worked through the ranks quickly, kissing a few babies and stealing lollipops along the way. The result was a man who was impressed with his own importance.

 

The anteroom, Mal noted, seemed to reflect the inflated ego. It was an expansive space, reaching far beyond to an exterior wall. Sunlight streamed in through the floor-to-ceiling window that provided a view of the Bay Bridge beyond; several antique paintings graced an otherwise non-descript area. The captain's support staff – a yeoman secretary and two junior officers – appeared to work diligently at desks that seemed too modest for the allotted space. Silence surrounded them and, were it not for the cool, fresh air circulating, Mal might have thought himself in a tomb. The blonde yeoman, clad in a black uniform with the typical red accents, looked up as he entered, a wide smile crossing her features. "Commander Alexander," she said as she rose. "Captain Clark is expecting you."

 

His lips twitched. "I'm certain he is," he said. With his left hand, he gestured to the younger woman, allowing her to take the lead. He rolled his eyes as he followed her to the large portal leading into the main office.

 

If the anteroom merely reflected Clark's inflated sense of self, then the main office embodied it. Smaller than the Director's office, the room was no less impressive, with a large desk at the center, elevated slightly by a raised dais. Behind the desk, large holopaintings cycled through works of the great masters, focusing on grassy fields and babbling brooks. Even the chair was oversized, dwarfing the two guest seats opposite. It was the type of arrangement that, on lesser individuals, might prove intimidating, giving Clark the "high ground." Mal found it amusing.

 

"Commander Alexander." The captain gave a taut smile as he rose. He then gestured for Mal to take the empty seat on his left before looking to the yeoman. "I read over the report LT Sealey forwarded and sent it back to you with my comments."

 

The yeoman nodded. "Understood, sir. I'll make the corrections and return it to him. Will there be anything else?"

 

Clark shook his head. "Nothing. Just make sure that the commander and I aren't disturbed."

 

"Of course." With a taut smile to Mal, the young woman backed out of the office. The doors slid closed behind her.

 

"Well, Mal, it's a pleasure to see you again. It's been what? Two months since the last time we spoke?"

 

Alexander bit back a retort. It had been longer than two months since they spoke – a lot longer. A field operative didn't exactly travel in the same political circles as the DDO, and Clark knew it. "Three," he said aloud. "But then, I've been in the field for most of that."

 

"Yes, of course." Clark rubbed his chin with his index finger, pausing as he lowered himself back into his seat. "I assume you'd like to know why I called you here?"

 

"I thought, perhaps, it might have something to do with new orders."

 

Clark nodded. "It does. First and foremost, let me congratulate you on making full commander this cycle. I'm sure you're pleased with that development; it will certainly open up a lot of new opportunities for you."

 

"It was a nice bonus, following the last mission...though I had rather thought the pay raise would be better."

 

"I suppose we all have to make sacrifices for 'king and country,'" the captain replied. "Or, in this case, Earth and the Federation."

 

As if you have the first clue, Mal thought. Outwardly, he only smiled.

 

"One of those opportunities," Clark continued, "is the role of station chief."

 

This caught his attention. "Station chief?" Mal shifted in his chair. "Where, exactly?"

 

"Are you familiar with Camelot Station?"

 

"In the Gamma Quadrant?" Clark nodded in response and Alexander grimaced. "Particularly interesting place, caught in the middle of a civil war, the Romulans, and the Dominion, none of which would constitute a vacation spot. It certainly wouldn't be my first choice for assignment."

 

The captain pursed his lips, picking up a PADD. "It's come to our attention that the area could be rich with information, and we're not exactly getting the information we need out of our brother and sister organizations; we need assets of our own in place there. So, we're going to need our own station chief, as well. I thought you might make a good choice." He offered Mal the PADD.

 

Leaning forward in his seat, Mal took it, furrowing his brow. It contained the dossier of a Starfleet captain, named Ah-Windu Corizon. The Dameon's white hair and yellow eyes stood out starkly against the dark background of his portrait. "Commanding officer, USS Excalibur," he read aloud. "ATAG...Cardie prisoner..." He looked back up at Clark. "Why not recruit him to run our assets in the zone?"

 

"Because he's a person of interest I'd like one of our assets to keep an eye on."

 

"Person of interest?"

 

Clark nodded. "Scroll down. See the classified addendum."

 

Mal did as he was directed and the frown deepened. A shrink in his own right, Fleet Medical strongly believed he was manipulating the results of his analytical sessions to appear normal; they worried that affects of his Cardassian interrogation were affecting his loyalties. Worse, ATAG was hardly forthcoming with the information Corizon was feeding them. He sighed. This was hardly an assignment for a station chief, much less a decent field operative. "James, you don't want a station chief; you want a babysitter or even shrink. Hell, an analyst could provide you with a good leadership analysis."

 

"Corizon wouldn't be your assignment, Mal," Clark replied. "We'll be sending a new operative to cover him, even serve on the Excal. Your role would be to run that operative and any others we sent your way."

 

"Ah, so I'd play tour guide to a babe in the woods, then."

 

Clark lifted only his eyes, pupils glinting with dark humor even as his thin lips twitched. "The babe in the woods, as you say, would be Charlotte Matsumura."

 

Mal blinked. He leaned forward in his chair, bringing an index finger to his ear, tilting it as though to better listen. He gave a sarcastic laugh. "I'm sorry. I thought I heard you say you were assigning Charlotte Matsumura to the Gamma Quadrant."

 

Clark said nothing, leaning back into his own seat cushions. Alexander stared at him for a long moment before he lowered his hand. "I can tell by the smug grin that you're not kidding." He pinched the bridge of his nose, reining back his temper even as he felt his blood pressure pounding in his ears. "Do you have any idea what it would be like for a rook out there, James? The politics alone are bad enough, never mind the fact that they have vampires – real ones – not just the metaphorical. And you want her to keep an eye on her own CO while running ops?" He shook his head. "Did Ronin drop you one too many times on the mats? Or is this just revenge for making you look like an ass at the last meet?"

 

The amusement vanished from Clark's eyes, and he straightened. "Ensign Matsumura has shown herself to be more than capable," he replied. "She was chosen based on those attributes, and not on her personal ties. But, if you'd rather not accept the assignment, I'm certain I can find someone else."

 

Alexander's lips thinned. "I thought you were above blackmail, James."

 

"Blackmail? Oh, no, Mal; you misunderstand me. As a family friend, however, I thought you might be best qualified to run her out there: You'd have a vested interest in keeping her safe."

 

Mal fought to keep his expression neutral. Family friend. Right. You just want me to rot out there. "And if I don't accept the assignment?"

 

"Let's just say you might find it difficult to reach captain."

 

The commander forced a taut smile, his eyes cold. "Well, since you put it that way, how can I resist?"

 

***

Edited June 7, 2009 by Charlotte Matsumura

[LeftEar JoNs 0]

Nice Intel stuff. w00t!

 

Captain Clark seems like a real desk jockey - I'd lke to see how he'd react to an actual field assignment. ;-)