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Charlotte Matsumura

A Different Can of Worms (1/4)

A Different Can of Worms (1/4)

LTJG Charlotte Matsumura

CDR Malcolm Alexander

Dr. Elisabeth Blair

LCDR Ronin Matsumura (Ret.)

 

***

 

Outwardly, Charlotte Matsumura showed no signs of nervousness as she sat outside the office of the Director of Starfleet Intelligence. She'd watched captains and admirals breeze past for the last hour, and felt greatly out of place. What was it that she, a lowly, LTJG, might contribute to the current discussion that the more seasoned professionals wouldn't? Especially, she thought, since they already have my report and my debrief.

 

She frowned. Her debrief. While the rest of her crewmates were meeting with JAG officers, giving depositions and receiving the advice of counsel, she had been met by two senior officers, one operations, one intelligence. Both were unfamiliar; both handled her with a professional detachment bordering on clinical. During the interview, she adjusted her own attitude to suit.

 

As the debrief progressed, it became increasingly clear that much of the information obtained by Excalibur and by Mal caught both directorates by surprise. This in itself surprised her: She'd never been naïve enough to believe Fleet Intelligence omnipotent or omniscient, but to not know your own was involved in weapons smuggling? It was either a sad commentary on the agency, or spoke highly of the deceiving officers. She decided maybe a little of both.

 

That had been two days previous. There was nothing she could have added; nothing to revise. She only wanted to get on with it, and get back to her life. Sitting outside the office of the DIRSI did not figure into that plan.

 

A few more minutes passed and finally, the doors to the admiral's office parted. As she looked up to see who was exiting, she felt her breath catch: Without his make-up, clean shaven, and once again dark haired was Malcolm Alexander.

 

He crossed the office with a broad smile, his eyes crinkling at the corners with the effort. "Surprise," he said quietly. He took her outstretched hand in his and covered it with his other hand. Louder, he said, "I was beginning to wonder where you'd disappeared to."

 

"I could say the same about you," Charlotte replied. She maintained the same friendly, professional tone he had offered. "It's really been too long."

 

"Well, I've a remedy to that."

 

"Oh?"

 

An impish gleam lit the green-hazel eyes, lips still curved into a smile. "Had your lunch yet?"

 

"Not yet, but I received a message to be here –"

 

"About that," Mal began slowly, "I'm afraid I've a bit of a confession to make: I'm the one who sent the summons."

 

Charlotte huffed. "You? I've been sitting here an hour, trying not to go into a panic, and you're the reason I'm here? I think you should eat lunch on your own."

 

The senior officer leveled a gaze at her. "Maybe, but I think we have a lot to discuss, you and I."

 

She noted the quieter tone, the intensity in his eyes that belied the smile still across his lips. "Now?" she asked silently with raised brows. He nodded. "Now it is, then."

 

As he escorted her out of the office, she could feel the warmth of his hand as it hovered at the small of her back. They walked together down the corridor to the lift, where Mal called for the next pod. "You might be interested to know," he began, "that Captain Clark has been dismissed as Deputy Director of Operations."

 

"That explains the low-level panic around here." The doors parted and Charlotte stepped in first. "Any ideas who they'll be asking to replace him?"

 

"Interim, it will be your favorite and mine, Roane Townsend."

 

Charlotte furrowed her brow. Townsend had been her recruiting agent and, while he didn't strike her as completely useless, she felt he might be a little too concerned about appearances to do the job properly. "You actually like him?"

 

"They could do worse," Mal answered. He allowed her to step out of the lift, falling a half step behind her. "Though it's only temporary."

 

The northern California sun was bright and warm as they stepped out of the headquarters building, and Matsumura squinted against the change. "I have to wonder who they'll get permanently into position." She stopped, pursing her lips. "Wait, if Clark is gone, what about our orders to Camelot Station?"

 

"And therein lay the real question." Mal brought his hand against the small of her back, encouraging her to continue walking. "Operations and the Director aren't yet sure what motivated our posting, but they recognize there is some importance in maintaining presence."

 

"So...?"

 

"So, when all is said and done, we'll probably head back to Camelot Station aboard Excalibur."

 

Her expression deepened into a scowl. "I'm not quite sure how to feel about that."

 

"Nor am I," Alexander admitted. "And now we have to sit and wait for the bureaucrats. At least we'll be home while they take their sweet time."

 

"And the court martial?"

 

Mal grimaced. "That will unfortunately go as the boys discussed in your debriefing: A formal reprimand, removed with the expiration of the Secrets Act on the mission."

 

"Great," Charlotte commented with a sigh. "So, in twenty years, I'll finally see full lieutenant. Brilliant."

 

"Oh, I dunno about that. The new Director seems to think you acquitted yourself well...and you certainly saved my bacon."

 

Matsumura cut him a sideways glance. "Me and Rue."

 

"Yes – you and Rue."

 

A moment of silence passed between them as they continued along the sidewalk, officers bustling about them, scampering from one building to the next. Charlotte spoke at length. "The two of you go back a ways, yeah?"

 

Smile flickering across his lips, Mal nodded. "My senior year at the Academy. She was dating my best mate from Eton, Clay."

 

"So now she really knows where all the skeles are buried."

 

"That's what I'm afraid of." They stopped before a speeder Charlotte recognized as belonging to the senior operative. Mal smiled, keying open the door for her. "Your carriage, m'lady."

 

Matsumura smirked up at him. "Why thank you, kind sir." She slid gracefully into the passenger seat. "Where are we going, anyway?"

 

"That, love, is for me to know, and you to find out." Smirking, he closed the door. Within a few moments, he had climbed in, started the engine, and they were on their way.

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