In case you wondered...

[Cassie Granger 0]

In case you wondered...

 

Stims are great. Until they aren’t.

 

According to the package directions, stims increase blood flow, alertness, and endurance. They shorten reaction time and elevate mood. But the last sentence of the effects had that one word in it - temporarily. “Temporarily reduces fatigue.” And when the temporarily wears off, fatigue becomes an equal opportunity employer, face-planting you wherever you are, whatever you’re doing. She should have known better.

 

“Gunner.”

 

The voice, deep... masculine... insistent, broke through the clouded confusion of her semi-conscious meanderings, bringing her to full consciousness. As her eyes focused, the faint outline cleared and became more familiar. Deep-set gray eyes, silver hair cut Marine crew, biceps pushing the Starfleet uniform almost beyond its limits.

 

“Colonel?”

 

“Last time I looked,” he said. “You up to a conversation?”

 

Cassie shook her head to clear the cobwebs. No dice. A bout of nausea buried her head against the pillow. “Depends on how serious, Sir.”

 

“Damn serious, Gunner.”

 

Her eyes popped open to his, drawing a bead on her. “Sir. I’m awake, Sir.” She blinked several times while pulling herself to a sit, despite the head-throb of acute caffeine withdrawal.

 

“My time is limited here, Sunny, so I’ll cut to the chase. You’re up for an Article 15 for actions on the bridge that landed you here. I need to know what exactly was going through your mind -- if anything -- that led you to pull such a damned fool stunt.”

 

“Sir. Yes, Sir. Manning my post, Sir.” She stopped for a regroup to bring herself out of basic mode. “I was monitoring the new tech R&D slipped in on the fly, Colonel. Keeping track of personnel on the ground, receiving in-orbit communications, deciphering...”

 

“I did not ask you what you were doing, Marine.” Tigard’s forearms rested on his thighs, hands clenched, approaching white-knuckle, his face inches from hers, his tone intense, but quiet enough to keep the conversation, if not the overall mood, private. “I asked you what led you to pop stims on the bridge.”

 

“The nature of the mission, Colonel. Over a period of six days my presence was required on the bridge to monitor surveillance equipment, coordinate ground operations and bridge surveillance personnel.” Her tone took on a questioning air, as though this information was common knowledge and her actions were completely within regulations -- except for the overdose, of course.

 

“You remember the Callaghan Incident, Sunny?”

 

The unexpected question stopped her short; her expression darkened “Aye, Sir.”

 

“Corporal Callaghan OD’d on stims,” said Tigard. “The result?”

 

“He... emptied the weapons locker... and emptied most of it into his platoon, Sir.”

 

Tigard’s volume dropped dramatically. “And yet, you deliberately went beyond the recommended dosage.”

 

“No, Sir,” she replied, her tone mirroring his.

 

The colonel leaned back, his expression calling for more information.

 

“When the mission went south... when we lost track of the doc, the comm officer, and the commander... I lost track of the dose. When the packet was empty it was too late.”

 

“Damn right it was, Gunner,” he said, slowly nodding as he stood to leave. “As soon as you’re released I want you in my office for a review of the regulations concerning stimulant use and the reading of the charges. You’ll have time to gather witnesses in your favor and to formulate a defense... if you have one. See you there.”