Caretaker - Part II

Posted on Thu 22nd Feb, 2018 @ 6:19am by Commander Mikaela Locke & Commander Paul Graves PsyD & Lieutenant Commander Andrew Eberstark & Lieutenant Commander Alora Baro & Commander Jasmine Collins-Keller & Lieutenant Colonel Brooklyn Wellington

2,089 words; about a 10 minute read

Mission: A Phaser as Deadly as a Candlestick
Location: Deck 11 - Senior Staff Conference Room

[ON:]

Mikaela Locke stood at the head of the conference room table, looking out at the assembled senior staff. The responsibility of what she had to say to them had weighed on her so heavily that she had thrown up in the adjacent head, not five minutes before they arrived.

They were all looking at her - obviously waiting for her to speak. Drake was conspicuous by his absence and, while she knew some to be aware of the situation, especially those who dealt with the immediate aftermath, for others news had not yet reached them.

'Just get it out,' she thought to herself, fighting the urge to vomit again.

She steeled herself, took a deep breath and said the sentence that she had been rehearsing in her mind for the last two hours, but was so fearful of articulating aloud.

"At fifteen-oh-seven this afternoon, Colonel Horatio Drake was murdered."

Brooklyn remained silent, as she had been ever since hearing the news over comms after intercepting the transport the killer had been on. Inwardly, she was seething--the Marines aboard failed in their jobs. Had she been in command of those Marines, there would be hell to pay for allowing a CO to be killed. Yet, she only commanded the Aerospace Wing.

Alora looked up from her PADD with a stunned expression. She hadn't gotten to know him well but he seemed a good CO and generally Starfleet CO's weren't high on the list to be murdered. She said nothing though and just tried to absorbed the information.

"Oh, dear," Doctor Addams said. Then she brightened. "I presume you'll want an autopsy?"

Andrew's face remained blank even though inside he was feeling the same emotions he assumed everyone else at the table was feeling. Anger. Frustration. Grief. But the grief part came later. For now, he and the rest of the staff had jobs to do to carry out in the aftermath of this. Pushing the last emotion to the side, he glanced around the room looking for other people's reactions while waiting on Locke's response to the Doctor's question.

"What?!" Paul had known the news would be bad; everything that Mikaela was projecting communicated shock, anger, loss. But Drake, murdered? "What happened?" He felt his own denial of the statement, even as he told himself it was the first stage of grief.

Jasmine gasped as pain and fear rose in her emotions and then sadness. She hadn't known the man well but he'd been in her offices many times just to check on things and always had a kind word. She liked him. She'd always had a feeling of ease around him. But her feelings were all jumbled and any other Betazoid in the room would have felt her pain even though the words that slipped from her werent words she would have normally said. At least they were in a whisper. "He was going to marry us next week."

Her hand went over her mouth quickly as she reddened. It wasn't what she'd meant to say at all. Real tears rolled down her cheeks as thoughts of her visits with the man rolled through her mind. She remembered how uneasily he pressed her hand to his belly after asking permission to 'feel' the child inside kick...how impressed he was with her holographic depiction of the sector of the galaxy they were in, how he liked to come walk through the setup and look back toward Earth. He had told her it made him feel closer to home and she'd allowed him open access to the program.

"This is what happened." Isabella tapped on the control panel on the table in front of her. A picture of the Colonel's murderer appeared on the screen before everyone. "We went aboard the shuttle to recover this woman and..." Isabella paused for a moment. Not sure of what words to use next. "And she ended up stabbing him through the throat."

"And do you mind explaining to me how you allowed this woman get close enough to the colonel to stab him in the neck?!" Wellington spoke, raising her voice and leaning forward in her chair.

Isabella could feel a burning sensation bubbling up from the pit of her stomach and growing in her throat. She felt bad enough that the Colonel died on her watch, but she continued to feel powerless in the situation. "Well, Captain," she said with a bit of contempt in her voice. "I was not in charge of the security of this mission. The marine detachment had operational control per the Colonel. If it was up to me, the Colonel would not have been on the transport."

Doctor Addams held up a hand. "Please," she said. "Assigning blame is not our purpose here. Figuring out how to move forward is. Commander Locke, have you notified Fleet, yet, or are you waiting for the autopsy results? Has anyone notified SCIS that we have the suspect in custody?"

"Okay," Locke finally responded, raising her hand to bring the room back to order. "I realise that in circumstances like this emotions are bound to run high - but let me try and clarify things as best I can." She decided to sit, to continue.

"For the record, I agreed with Lieutenant Perry: No, he shouldn't have been on that transport - and I told the Colonel so shortly before he departed. I quoted regulation at him, and he ignored me." She glanced at the screen where the picture of the woman in question was still being displayed. Mikaela couldn't help but feel that her eyes were burning a hole straight through her - as if she were openly mocking her and whispering, 'This is your fault,'.

"Lieutenant, can we get rid of that image, please?" she gestured.

"Yes ma'am." Isabella tapped her fingers over the controls again, removing the image from the screen and replacing it with the UFP logo.

"Thank you." Mikaela acknowledged, steeling herself to continue. "As cause of death is fairly incontrovertible an autopsy seems unnecessary in this case," she gestured in the direction of the doctor.

"I disagree, Commander," the Doctor responded. "For more than one reason. First of all, if the characteristics of the weapon used to murder the Colonel produce a wound which matches that which killed Special Agent Solo, then we can close that case, as well -- and no doubt, others throughout the Federation. Secondly, and I can only disclose this because he's now dead, Colonel Drake came to me recently complaining of intermittent, transient effects which might have been temporal or awakening psychic in nature. He was also consulting with Dr. Graves, in the belief that these effects might also be psychological in nature. Neither of us found the events as he described them to be of a severity to merit restriction of duties, or the breach of doctor / patient confidentiality which informing others would represent. However, now that he has died, apparently through a profound lapse in judgement, I believe that a thorough examination looking for physical causes is called for. If nothing else, should we find something, those results may serve to assist the survival of others with similar issues at a later date."

"Yes," Paul agreed firmly. "When Colonel Drake met with me he ended the session feeling as if he had gained some kind of insight into what was troubling him. There was no indication at that time that he was likely to do something so incautious as to lead an away team to apprehend a criminal. That's a task you delegate to trained personnel." He glanced at Locke. "In any case, an autopsy unfortunately will be required because Colonel Drake's death was was a crime."

"Very well," Locke nodded to both Addams and Graves, "I defer to your professional judgement, and trust you'll make the necessary arrangements. I have notified both the SCIS and Starfleet Command," she continued, "The former are on their way here to take the..." she paused, ever so briefly.

'Murderer,' the voice in her head screamed.

"The perpetrator into custody," She finished eventually. She swallowed hard. "The latter have authorised me to take command of Vanguard, until such a time as a permanent replacement can be found. It is, therefore, my duty to inform you that, as of an hour ago, the command codes of Starbase 109 have been transferred to me."

Paul nodded. He too wondered why Drake would go to retrieve a killer himself instead of simply sending Marines and a Security detail to apprehend her. He looked back at Mikaela. "I am sorry you've come into this command under such horrifying circumstances, Commander, but I think I can speak for us all enough to say that we will support you in any way we can." He paused. "I would like to speak with you briefly after this meeting, Ma'am. In the meantime ... How do you wish us to inform the crew? Stationwide announcement, or we do it quietly, by department? We'll need to consult with the base Marines about organizing the funeral service. Has ... Colonel Drake's family been told yet? And we'll need to draft an announcement for Media Relations to distribute."

"I've yet to notify the family," Locke responded, "I don't know for certain, but I expect the family will want a funeral service on Earth - of course, that doesn't stop us holding a memorial on the station if we choose to." She turned back to Paul Graves. "We'll meet shortly," she affirmed, "And deal with the other issues."

She scanned the still-shocked and, slightly overwhelmed faces of those before her. "Look," she continued, "I realise this situation is far from ideal. I am not an experienced first officer, let alone someone qualified to command a facility of this size. But it is what it is. I also appreciate that the Colonel's death will affect all of us, in different ways. We all need time and space to grieve in our own way. But, right now, I need all of you to perform your duties to the best of your abilities."

She looked around the room. She had already failed them once by allowing Drake on to that damn shuttle in the first place. She resolved not to fail them again. "The Colonel always had something inspirational to say," she said, her tone softer, "I'm not sure that's who I am - but, until we know what the next phase of Vanguard's life is, can I simply ask of you: Serve the badge. Serve Starfleet - the way you always have. And I will endeavour to serve you. And if we do that, then the memory of Colonel Horatio Drake - and what he stood for - will always be with us."

Alora happened to be sitting next to Jasmine, she hadn't actually said anything mostly Alora was stunned and was just listening to the data as it poured in. When Jasmine mentioned about "Marry us..." She surmised a deeper relationship. Immediately her own shock and pain was secondary as she gently tapped the other woman on the shoulder and held out a small box of tissues she'd pulled from a pocket, her features and mind sympathetic even as she listened to the Commander. Another person who would have to make do with the space between the rock and the hard place. Part of her mind, using work to get past her own personal shock as a defense mechanism, began to plan reports for the new CO.

Mikaela nodded. "Good," she said, with a mixture of finality and relief. "Commander Graves - if you could give me half and hour, and then we'll meet, but if there's nothing else, you're dismissed."

The senior staff of Vanguard filed out of the room, one or two expressing sorrow and grief, but mostly in silence.

Mikaela remained seated until the last person had left and the doors had closed, leaving her alone. She leaned forward, resting her forearms on the conference room table, and closed her eyes as she, once again, felt the tears begin to well up. As she cried, she tried to process the responsibility that now rested on her shoulders, as well as process the events that had led to that same responsibility being thrust upon her, and finally she couldn't contain the combination of anxiety, stress, frustration and grief any longer.

And she threw up again.

[OFF:]

 

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