Getting a Handle

Posted on Sat 23rd Mar, 2019 @ 10:33am by Captain Andrus Grax

1,137 words; about a 6 minute read

Mission: A Diplomatic Affair
Location: Captain's Ready Room
Timeline: MD: 01 - 1300

[ON:]

"They'd been following us for hours." Grax recounted gravely. He'd not had the opportunity to meet Suzuki Hikari, the station’s CO, when the Falcon had first arrived, in its beleaguered state, to Starbase 109, but now he sat opposite her, in her office - coffee in hand - describing their final, fateful journey.

"We changed course a couple of times, to try and throw them off, but they continued to follow us. They tracked us even though the cloak was engaged."

Suzuki nodded, taking a sip of her tea. "There are ways," she answered cryptically, not mentioning the work Riko McCord had done on the topic. "Here's what concerns me, Captain... why was Falcon attacked and pursued? A destroyer escort is a difficult bite to chew... and from a pirate's perspective, there isn't much meat in among the bone and gristle. Of the vessels engaged in the conflict, you accounted for two, and another three were destroyed by the Aardvarks. Where's the profit?"

“I agree,” Grax replied, taking a sip of his coffee. “On the face of it, it doesn’t make a lot of sense.” He paused to take another sip. “Perhaps it’s not about the profit - at least not the immediate profit.” He leaned forward and placed his coffee, down on the small table that separated him from his counterpart, visibly wincing in pain as he did so. “I can’t help but wonder whether someone, somewhere is playing a far longer game than we’re giving them credit for.”

Suzuki nodded. Images of a mustachio-twirling character from her daughter's favorite dramatic program flashed through her head. "At any rate," she said, making the mental effort to push Snidely Snapback aside, "Falcon's future is problematic. I'm waiting for my Captain of the Port, Commander Perry, to finish the preliminary assessment. But I have to warn you that it's about evens whether BuShips decides to repair her or scrap her."

Grax sighed and shrugged in one small gesture. “I’m not surprised,” he replied pragmatically, “And to be honest, I’m not sure I mind either way.”

Suzuki nodded, and took another sip of her tea. "If... and I do mean if BuShips decides to scrap Falcon in favor of new-build, would you consider another job? One here, on the station?"

Grax arched an enquiring eyebrow. While clearly he knew there was a possibility that the Falcon wouldn't be repaired, he had assumed that command would simply reassign him to another ship. Although, to be honest, he wasn't even sure that was what he wanted. "I hadn't given it much thought, to be honest with you?" he replied, only half honestly. His curiosity was, however, piqued. "Why? Did you have something in mind?"

The Commodore nodded. "I do, actually. I need someone to be actively responsible for coordinating intel and response on this situation. I've been handling it myself, but with the kick up to organizing a task force, I'm going to be busy doing other things. So... would you want the job?"

Grax sat back in his chair and raised an eyebrow. He was certainly intrigued. The idea of a more stationary existence, rather than one that involved flying around the universe from one crisis to the next certainly appealed to him - as did an opportunity to return to intelligence. He had always felt that it suited him better than command.

He took another sip from his coffee. Looking Suzuki squally in the eye, trying to size up whether this was an offer he really wanted to accept. "Do you think command will really go for that?" he finally asked.

Suzuki smiled wanly. "We can ask. Worst they can do is say 'no,' right?"

Grax raised his eyebrows and pursed his lips slightly in an expression that suggested he agreed with the commodore, but he said nothing for another few moments. "Okay," he finally said, "But I'd like to make a couple of requests, if I may?"

"You can ask," Suzuki answered, her smile turning wry. "Worst I can do is say 'no.'" Her promotion to flag rank had not, she reflected, come with the ability to take away people's birthdays.

“Firstly, I’d like to request that Commander Fisher be assigned to my team,” Grax said. “He’s a good guy and has a solid background in intelligence. We go back a long way. I can tell you now, there aren’t many better at analysis.”

"Alright," Suzuki answered. "I'll make him the offer; if he accepts, I'll pester BuPers to transfer him as well. Next?"

Grax smiled slightly mischievously. “I’d like to request that I - and if possible the rest of my staff - be permitted to wear black tunics, rather than those damn-ugly grey things?” He took another swig of his coffee. “Whoever thought they were a good idea should’ve been flushed out the nearest airlock.”

Suzuki flashed back three years to the night she gave June Winter permission to wear her extended-range hearing prosthesis on watch -- the prosthesis shaped like a pair of bunny ears. Then she thought of her last sight of June: on the bridge of Samurai, seconds before the Besm girl's station was engulfed in plasma. Frowning, she answered Grax as she had June, "I don't care if you wear a crimson brocade smoking jacket and bunny slippers, so long as you do your job well." After a moment, she added, "though I believe you'll find that, aboard this station, Intelligence is part of the Administration department, and thus wears red tunics when in uniform."

Grax looked down at the red command tunic he was currently wearing and shrugged. "Eh," he said, "It was worth a short. Still red's not half as bad as those hideous grey things. Although," he added with a grin, "if I turn up at a staff meeting in bunny slippers then you've only got yourself to blame."

"Fair enough," Suzuki conceded. Her eyes were drawn to the opening of the door to the outer office before she could say anything else.

"Skipper," WO Mejia said, not coming fully into the office, "We have a communique from USS Kingfisher. She's had success with Operation Lurky-Lurk, and is bringing a guest to dinner."

The Commodore looked blankly at her Yeoman.

"USS Kingfisher?" he repeated. "Captain Munster? Q-Ship?"

"Oh! Yes. Thank you. When is she due to arrive?"

"She'll reach the outer markers within the hour, ma'am."

"Very well; direct her and her irregular dinner companion to dock in the lower utility harbor." Suzuki turned her attention back to Grax. "It appears we have something for you to do right away," she observed. "Welcome to Starbase 109."

 

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