Setting boundries

Posted on Sun 9th Apr, 2017 @ 12:51am by Lieutenant Colonel Brooklyn Wellington

844 words; about a 4 minute read

Mission: Wrongs Darker Than Death Or Night
Location: Pilot's Briefing Room

Captain Wellington stood at the head of the medium-sized room with a large monitor behind her on the bulkhead. A Federation blue runner rug ran in the middle aisle between the stadium-seating. The room was often used by the fighter department to conduct mission briefings and debriefings. This case was entirely different as she watched the pilots, Weapons Systems Operators, and most of the ground crew filed into the room, leaving some forced to stand along the walls as there weren't enough seats for everyone. The officers and enlisted ground crews were talking about relationships, after duty plans, food, and work issues as they finished taking their seats. She hated calling department meetings, preferring her department stay on duty.

"Alright, let's get this meeting off," Wellington began as the room instantly quieted. She paused for a moment, taking in the faces now looking at her, wondering what was going on to cause a department meeting. She thought back to when she was a nugget just out of Flight Academy--she'd never imagined being responsible for so many lives. She took a breath before continuing. "I am sure you're all more than aware of the issue with the Bajorans and some of the civilians protesting aboard the station recently. I called this meeting to iterate that I don't care what species you are, what planet you grew up on, but while you wear the uniform of a Starfleet Marine, that's what you are--a Marine. Keep your political ideals, feelings, or whatnot to yourselves. When you wear that uniform, your job is worry about doing your duty so we can continue to protect this station and the civilians and crew aboard it. If you have a problem doing so, then you can come and see me and I will have your butt on the next transport off of this station. Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes ma'am!" the room sounded off in unison.

Wellington nodded. "I'm glad that's cleared up. Also, as a reminder, you do not ever talk to the press that is aboard the station. If you are approached by anyone from the Federation News Service or any news service, you direct them to me. Am I understood?"

"Yes ma'am!" the department again sounded off in unison.

"Good," Wellington said. "Also until the Bajoran protests have ended, it would be wise to travel in pairs--never travel alone. If there is nothing else, resume your normal duties of the day. Dismissed."

The department stood and began to file out, save for Corporal Ben Smith, who approached Wellington. She locked eyes with the younger man and grinned. "Corporal Smith. Is there something that you needed?"

"Yes ma'am," he began before pausing to take a deep breath. What he had to say was difficult. "Ma'am, it's about my wife. She was at the recent protests. She was injured and has since recovered in the Infirmary, but we had a falling out, and I'm not sure if she is going to stay or not...I just thought you should know," he said as he fought back tears.

Although not officially a counselor, the role of a commander often required that role for those that she led. "I am sorry about your wife, Corporal."

"Thank you, ma'am. But I am beginning to wonder if this is all worth it," Smith said. Ever since I've been assigned to this damned station, it's been nothing but bad luck for me. First it was being badly burned when a fighter blew on the fighter deck and now my wife resents me for being in the Marines and wanting to remain in and get a commission."

"I see. Do you want a transfer? Have you changed your mind and getting out at the end of your enlistment?" Wellington questioned.

"I don't know, ma'am," Smith admitted. "Being a pilot still interests me, but everything is getting too difficult for me."

Wellington crossed her arms as she thought about Smith's words. "Well Corporal, life is hard. Sometimes we're handed shitty deals, but I believe it's how we deal with them that makes us stronger or weaker as a person. Will you give in and run away from your problems to some far off dark corner of the galaxy, or ar you going to stand and face your problems? The choice is yours and yours alone, Corporal but consider this. If you run, you will be alone. If you stay you will have me, Lieutenant O'Malley, and everyone else here to support you. Marines take care of their own--you know that, Corporal Smith."

Smith was quiet as the mulled over what Captain Wellington said. "Thank you, ma'am...I will stay."

Wellington smiled. "I'm glad to hear that because you're doing well in the classroom phase of the flight training. Next week is when we begin the simulated flights on the holosuites."

Corporal Smith smiled. I'm looking forward to it, ma'am...and thank you."

Wellington nodded. "You're welcome, Corporal Smith. If there is nothing else, you're dismissed."

"Aye, ma'am," he said before turning and heading for the exit.

 

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