Concerning Ensign Jackson

[Chirakis 1]

Concerning Ensign Jackson
Captain  Chirakis
Ensign Fletcher Jackson

His friends called him Fletch, but his full first name was Fletcher.  Not that it made any difference in this story.  Anyway, Flech had never been in the security complex, so he fumbled over his name when they asked for it.  Good thing he had his credentials.  And he'd never been in Captain Chirakis’ office, so that was another thing.  He’d been told that only big brass or someone in deep shi… uh, someone in really big trouble got into her office.  Well, he wasn’t big brass, so he must be here for the other reason.  He stood in front of Lieutenant Garand, getting more nervous by the minute. Even though he’d been on Aegis for… how long?  And he’d seen the lieutenant… how many times?  He still had to go through the routine—or so the lieutenant said.  

“Everyone has to,” Garand responded flatly while he continued to work.  “This is the heart of Aegis.” He took Fletcher’s thumb and pressed it for an imprint, then dropped it where it flopped to Fletch's side like a ragdoll.  “Engineering keeps the station running, and we keep the station safe.”  Garand handed Fletch’s creds back.  “Got a problem with that, Ensign?”

Garand’s gaze made Fletch think that if he even twitched, he’d be under arrest.

“Uh… no, sir.  No.  No, sir.  I’m good with it.  Really. I’m good.  Really good. No problem.”  He forced a smile.

Garand nodded. “Good. Follow me. Stay directly behind me.  Do not move to the right or the left. Sergeant Nunez will be at your six.  Do you understand?”

Nunez?  As in the guy next to him who’s loaded for bear, like there might be an invasion?

“Yes, sir,”  Fletch responded, the smile still plastered on.

Garand snapped his finger. Nunez stepped up behind Fletch.  Garand did a tight about face and led them down the hall.  Fletch thought he saw a smirk in the lieutenant’s reflection when they rounded a bend, but no… he figured it must be a wrinkle in the metal or something and dismissed it.  Security didn’t do that kind of stuff, right? 

After taking what seemed like the long way around, they stopped at a door.  Garand ran his  badge through a slot, then answered the computer’s demand for voice print.

The door slid open to reveal the captain’s office. She was sitting behind a pretty good sized desk and reading from a PADD.  An amazing number of monitors lined the walls behind her, but as soon as they stepped in, the monitors blanked to the Starfleet insignia.

“Ensign Fletcher Jackson, Captain,” said Garand sharply as he came to attention.

Without looking up from her work, Kirel responded, “Thank you, Lieutenant.  Remain outside in case you are needed.”

“Yes, ma’am.”  Garand stepped to the side.  Nunez followed suit.  After a coordinated about face, they left to stand outside as ordered.

The door closed.  The captain continued to work in silence.  Dead silence.  Taking a hint from Garand and Nunez, Fletch stood at attention and waited for the captain to say something.  Anything.  But she kept on working.

Five minutes passed.  Ten minutes.  Eleven.  Twelve.  Thirteen.  Holy schmoley.  Pretty soon it would be four….

“Stand at ease, Ensign.  Before you fall over.”  

Captain Chirakis relaxed back in her chair, with her left elbow on the armrest, furnishing a support for the hand that casually stroked her chin.

Jackson relaxed enough to stand at ease.  Captain Chirakis didn’t seem to be the ogre some of the guys called her.  Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad after all.

“Do you know why you are here, Ensign?”

“Uh… no ma’am.  I mean… no, Captain.  I don’t… know.  I mean, I don’t know why I’m here. Ma’am.”

The captain considered that a while.  “Then I shall enlighten you.” She sighed.  Taking a stylus in hand, she rolled it a few times, then placed it precisely next to her PADD and leaned forward.

“What is my position on this starbase, Ensign?”

“Chief of Security, ma’am.”

“And what is my duty as Chief of Security?”

“To keep the station safe, ma’am.”

“Close,” she replied, somewhat skeptically.  She stood to round her desk, then leaned against it and crossed her arms.  

Gees, he’d never been this close to her.  Even when she leaned against her desk, she was a whole head taller than he is.  Her black uniform was… well… black.  But not just black. Blacker than black.  Her insignia gleamed in the overhead lighting.  Her boots were polished to a fine sheen, and….  Crap.  She had a dagger in her left boot. And it looked pretty sharp.

“My duty to this station is to ensure the safety of this station and its inhabitants, Ensign. You are an inhabitant of this station.  Commander Kital is an inhabitant, and therefore under my purview, as is Ensign Dran.”  She took a deep breath, but remained calm, and her expression didn’t change, except that it gave Fletch the feeling that he was in the principal’s office in junior high.  

“Ensign,” she continued in the same vein, “wherever you are on this station, you are my responsibility.  When you are in Command and Control, your duty is not only to tend to Operations.  Your duty is also to be safe, and to be sure that everyone around you is safe.”  

She stopped and watched him like she was… thinking?  He really couldn’t tell. 

“Instead, you are easily distracted.  Fresh donuts. Coffee. Someone new in CnC.  In fact, most recently our new ensign in science became the object of your attention.  Rather than keeping your eyes on your console, you watched her and commented inappropriately—which, I might add, is strictly prohibited in Starfleet and could result in court martial.”

Oh boy.   He was beginning to get the message.

“You dropped a PADD,  then you reached for it.  You smacked your head against the access panel, then you hit your head again when you tried to stand up.  All this was a result of your distraction.  And, of course, your injury required that you leave your  post for a medical examination.”  

He expected her to raise her voice any time now.  She didn’t, but her expression changed. Man, did it change. 

“This left Commander Kital alone.  At her post. While a heavily armed and potentially lethal alien starship was at stationkeeping.  In Aegis space.  Do you understand where this is going, Ensign?”  

“Yes, ma’am,” he squeaked, then cleared his throat.  “I mean, yes, ma’am.”  That one sounded better.

“Tell me, Ensign Jackson, were you endangering this starbase?”

“Yes, ma’am, I was endangering the starbase.”

“Were you endangering its inhabitants?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

She pushed off from her desk to tower over him.  The smile was gone.  Her eyes glared viciously into his, but her voice was still quiet—like a targ about to pin its prey and tear it open. 

“This will not happen again, Ensign,” she hissed quietly.  “If it does, I promise you that I will personally recommend convening court martial.  Is that clear?” 

“Y..yes, Captain.”  He held his breath.

After a very long few minutes, the captain stepped away from him and pressed a button on her desk.  “Lieutenant Garand, we are finished here.” 

Garand and Nunez escorted him out, same spacing, same military cadence, the whole nine yards.

 *   *   *   *   *

As soon as the door to her office closed, Kirel sent a message to Captain Ramson.  “Mission Accomplished.”

Garand ushered Fletcher out of security at the main entrance.  As soon as the command lift door closed, Garand turned to Nunez, shaking his head and trying not to laugh.  Nunez shouldered his phaser rifle, removed his helmet, and did the same.

Garand finally caught his breath.  “Think we made the right impression, Sergeant?”

“Oh hell, yeah, Lieutenant.  He’ll ever forget this one.”  

“Well, let’s hope not.  Strip off your gear and get it to the armory.  Master at Arms Doherty’s waiting for it.”

Nunez gave him a thumbs up.  Garand returned to duty, hoping that it would be a long time before they saw Jackson down here again.