[USS Tempest] (no subject)
- From: TKilyle@xxxxxxx
- To: usstempest@xxxxxxxxxxxxx
- Date: Fri, 2 Feb 2007 18:45:10 EST
The Name of the Game
by Lindsey Craig, Nathaniel Lynley, & Jesse Orosco
Jesse sank back into the corner area of the brig's bench seat with a groan.
Station security had just left, again, and this time they told him that he
wasn't being released until somebody from his ship came for him. "Oh man, I
am so screwed," he moaned, ignoring his throbbing cheek bone.
Lindsey blinked only once at the message on her unit as she marched into her
Ready Room. "What in the blazes..." Hitting her badge hard, she growled,
"Nat, you'd better come in here, I'd appreciate it."
"On my way," he said, rising from his desk chair smoothly. He contemplated
bringing a shot glass full of something. The tone of voice was not at all
full of joy.
"Damn that counsellor," Lindsey muttered, pinching between her eyes.
"Oh dear," Nat said as he stepped into the ready room. "That nose pinch
usually means something is up to no good." He sat across from her, a crooked
smile on his face. "Dare I ask?"
"Here," she said, turning her screen around for him to see.
It looked, for all the galaxy, like a regular Security report. Lord knows
I've seen enough of those in my time, Nat mused as he read from the beginning.
"I dare say somebody trashed Quark's bar but good," he murmured. "Dare I
ask which of our Marines did this before I get to the bottom?"
"Oh not a Marine," Lindsey said dangerously. "If it'd been one of those,
I'd be practically skippin' by comparison. No, no, this one's our nearest and
dearest, damn counsellor."
"Bloody hell," Nat groaned as he skipped to the bottom and saw the names of
those involved. Sure as anything there it was: Orosco, Jesse D.; Lieutenant
Commander. "I should think the man would know better."
"Oh, he's gonna damn well know better," Lindsey all but snarled. "I think a
sabbatical is in order for our counsellor."
"Sabbatical?" Nat asked carefully. "The man's just really got on board."
"Yeah and he decides to show this kinda respect for my ship?" she snorted.
"No way, Nat. Not even Cassiel lands himself in the brig. This is just not
happenin'. If he wants to play at being a Security guard then he can damn
well retrain."
"Have you read the witness reports, Lindsey?" Nat asked with as straight a
face as possible. "Granted it's no excuse, and it's probably even worse than
trying to stand in for Security, but it would seem this melee started over a
discussion on...games. The man had a disagreement with one of the two
Klingons in the place and side swiped his head with a beer mug." Almost to
himself
he added, "I do hope it was empty."
"Great," Lindsey groaned. "So we're even doin' well with inter-species
relations. At least the Klingons won't be too fussed with chargin' him."
Sighing softly, she shook her head. "I'm gonna give him a chance to pull
himself
together. There's a mission back through to the POW camp. They were asking
for a counsellor and if I knew one who'd be able to stop the team from
crackin' up. I think our game player'll be more than suited."
Nat rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "Other than this particular incident, the
man seemed to be quite level headed. Perhaps an away assignment will give
him a chance to straighten up and fly right as my grandfather likes to say."
"Either that or decide he really isn't cut out for shipboard assignments,"
Lindsey said with a certain flintiness to her voice. "But, y'know what, I'd
like to do this myself. I'm gonna head down to the DS9 brig now. Wanna come
watch me make him squirm?"
"I'm not at all sadistic but, yes, I'll come with." He offered Lindsey a
wan smile. "If nothing else, it is technically part of my job to be the crew
liaison and advocate so to speak."
"Advocate all you want, Natty Boy, but that man's not steppin' foot back on
this ship til he's redeemed himself." Lindsey marched out of her office, her
long legs making short work on the corridor to the Turbolift.
Nat had to run a bit to catch up to her, simply because he was so shocked at
what she'd called him. Now he knew she was well and truly angry. Alfred
was the only one who ever called him that, a nickname stemming from childhood.
"I wasn't suggesting otherwise, you know," he pointed out. "I quite agree
with you but appearances must be kept, too."
"Y'mean I can't just knock him flat?" she snorted.
"Tempting though that may seem, I somehow think it would land you beside him
rather than anything else. Though you might want to see if Captain Hale
gets away with it since the other Fleet perpetrator was one of his crew," Nat
said dryly.
"Johnny won't do it in the brig area," Lindsey snorted. "He'd wait until he
got Mac back onto GT. Then he'd knock him flat."
"Then I'll be certain to be out of ear and eye shot," Nat said mildly.
"What I don't know about, I can't do a thing about."
"Good plan, Nat," Lindsey snorted.
Jesse closed his eyes as he let his head thump on the brig wall. "God
damned fool," he muttered. "I think the beer in the holo program was real,
too."
It was a short trip to the station and the two of them weaved through the
small crowds of civilians and off-duty military people. As the two of them
entered the security office, she offered the on-duty officer a guarded smile.
"I'm here about Jesse Orosco."
After checking their comm IDs, the Bajoran pointed to the third cell. "Tell
him he can't have his weapon back no matter what sort of antique it is."
"Oh, he won't be gettin' a weapon for a long, long time," Lindsey said
stiffly as she stalked through to the man's cell. Blue eyes burning in fury
fixed
on the cell's inhabitant. "Give me one goddamn reason I shouldn't just
leave you here, Mr. Orosco?"
Jesse cringed, seeming to shrink inwardly even if he didn't on the outside.
Slowly, since he was fairly sure his head was still going to fall off, he
stood up, at attention as much as he was able. "Honestly, Captain. I can't
think of one that doesn't sound ridiculously self serving on my part," he
admitted.
She snorted as she folded her arms and leaned against the wall to the side
of the opening. "Damn right," she said sharply. "And since you can't even
stand up straight, I'm disinclined to bail you out."
"Are you drunk or injured, mister?" Nat asked from her side, disregarding
the fact that the counselor technically outranked him.
"More the first than the second I think, sir," Jesse admitted. "I think the
beer in that holo program was real."
"If you mean Vic's then yeah, it is," Lindsey said. "Okay, here's the deal.
You ain't coming back to Tempest. I've put your name forward for a
temporary reassignment to a group goin' back to the POW camp. You're going to
use
your apparently lacking abilities as a counsellor to keep 'em sane. If the
Marine in charge tells me he's impressed, then and only then can you come back
to my ship. You got that? Or are you still too drunk to understand?"
"It was Quark's, ma'am," Jesse began, shutting up when the look on Nat's
face suggested anything more would be stupid. Dark eyes blinked as he took in
what she was saying and he shook his head. "Begging the captain's pardon but
might I say something in my defense?"
"No," she said flatly. "Your belongings will be beamed to temporary
quarters here on the station and Major Cammick will contact you when he
arrives."
"Then I may as well say it any way," Jesse said with a shrug. "I hardly
blame you for doubting my fitness as an officer but I guarantee you I'm
completely fit at my job, Captain. I certainly hope you won't be disappointed
in
that."
"Prove it," she shrugged. "Go and do your job but not on my ship. Right
now, your access rights have been removed. I don't want you disgracing
Tempest
any more. Got me?"
That stung fiercely but all Jesse could do was nod. "Aye, Captain," was all
he could say, even as he felt his cheeks warm with embarrassment.
"Good. I'll have them release you when you can walk a straight line."
Spinning around, she marched out and back to the desk. "When he can pass an
alcohol test, you can let him go."
The Bajoran nodded, saying, "Yes, ma'am," but not without a twinge of
sympathy. The poor Human had gotten his ass handed to him but good.
"Thank you." She glanced at Nat then marched off. She really hated drunken
brawling.
"Well done,Lindsey," Nat said quietly when they were far enough away. "I
think the poor bloke's gotten rattled severely."
Sighing softly, she actually sagged and all of the fight went out of her.
"I think I went over the top," she said softly. "I coulda cut him a little
slack but I really hate my people doing that kinda stupid thing."
"Perhaps you might have but neither could the man think he had any inkling
of being right in what he did," Nat told her. "Believe me, I've seen both
sides of that fence and, considering what little I know of our misguided young
counselor, you picked the right side. He'll get over it. Just be sure to
give him the full respect he may be due when he returns."
"Don't worry, Nat, I'm convinced he'll come back to us with commendations,"
Lindsey said with a nod. "When that happens, I'll buy him a drink and offer
my apologies."
"If I may, might I see about getting whatever antique the fool was carrying
with him?" Nat asked. "I'll secure it until he returns."
"Good idea," she nodded. "Tell him I'll keep it in my office unless he
needs to use it to play ball with. No more cracking skulls."
"Perfect. Maybe it will teach the young man to play a more civilized game
like football," Nat said with a totally straight face.
Lindsey shot her friend a strange look and tried to equate wearing several
pounds of padding and such like just to run down a field with a ball in your
hands with the word civilised. Then it dawned on her and she laughed, "Oh,
you mean soccer."
"Barbarian," Nat grumbled accusingly. "You've been talking to that
Kaartaren again. As many years as I know you both and you persist in that
term."
"Hey, we can't help it if you Brits insist on using the wrong definition for
the greatest game ever played. Y'know, my Graddad used to play football at
the Academy."
"If you mean that sham of a game that looks like rugby..." Nat grumbled.
"Too much bloody padding involved."
"Do not dis the padding," Lindsey chuckled.
"I believe I just did," Nat retorted. "Bumps and bruises aren't worth much
if you can't feel them when they happen."
"Just coz all you Brits are masochists don't mean the enlightened Americans
have to be," she teased, offering him a bright grin.
"Just keep that in mind when our prodigal counselor returns. The man's from
your hemisphere after all."
"Yeah but he's a baseball fan," Lindsey shuddered. "Long stick, small ball,
hit and run. Ain't no fun in that. We're all football folks in my house."
"I tell you what then, mate," Nat said with a trademark Lynley smile. "Come
whatever season that horridly named game of yours is played, Rosemary and I
will come watch one with you. A man ought to broaden his horizons after all."
Lindsey gave a full beam, shining Craig smile and she held up her hand,
"Deal. Onto that, Johnny and me'll go to a soccer match with you too."
Nat shook her hand firmly. "And here's to sports and games that don't end
any one in the brig."
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