182: Drafted

by Ensign Nimue Andraste
and
-=/\=-Captain Zanh
80226.23
Following Roomies and Guide

-= Bridge of the USS Serendipity =-

Zanh Liis had just told her current helm officer, Ensign Toby Ellison, for the tenth time what she expected of him.

For the eleventh time, he did it wrong.

He had managed to follow her instructions well enough to move them to a safe distance from 626 before long range sensors indicated it had dragged Executor, in its death throes, to its fiery destruction. Still, he just couldn't seem to grasp the concept she was now trying to relay to him.

Zanh glanced at TC Blane, and placed her fingers on either side of the bridge of her wrinkled nose in the manner which told Blane for certain she had a headache. After a moment of silence, she stepped forward and bent down, speaking softly to Ellison.

"Perhaps you're not feeling well, Ensign. I think that you should go to Sickbay and have them look you over." He nodded and, cheeks crimson with humiliation, left the bridge.

Zanh gestured to Blane and he came near, as she sat at the helm once again, her fingers tapping the console impatiently.

"No chance we're getting Grace back from Sickbay today, right?"

"Sorry, Captain. No chance."

"Well, we have a problem. I don't know who qualified the pilots that are assigned to this ship, but I would like to wring their neck about now." Zanh analyzed their options as she spoke in hushed tones into Blane's ear. "Ah, here we go. This is where we're going to make our stand."

She indicated the navigational display, and the size of Blane's pupils expanded considerably. "The Gibraltar Trade and Supply Depot?"

"Yep. If they're going to take another swipe at us, they're going to do it in broad daylight. At the most crowded shopping mall we can find. The location of this outpost is perfect. It's only 6 hours away at top Warp, and it's between us and the last direction that Spec Ops was headed in. It's a station standing alone in space with no inhabited planets around it, so no one else will get hurt should Spec Ops decide to go stupid on us."

Once she'd laid in the course, she stood up and gestured to the chair. "She's all yours, Mr. Blane. I am going to try to find us another reliable pilot by drafting someone from the Executor."

"Just remember," Blane cautioned, "Whoever was sitting at their helm allowed the ship to get pulled into the atmosphere of that star."

"Point taken. If you need me, I'll be nearby. I hope for a quiet ride between here and Gibraltar." She moved into the Ready Room, and sighed. "Computer, begin playback Zanh musical list thirty-two gamma. Twenty percent volume level."

As the music began to play, Zanh approached the replicator. She couldn't remember when last she had eaten, but what she needed more than food was a straight shot of caffeine. She ordered a cup of strong coffee, black, and sat down at her desk already sipping the boiling hot contents as she did so.

She activated the viewscreen and sent out a hail to guest quarters. She found to her satisfaction that Keiran O'Sullivan had followed her last orders to him to the letter.

[Captain.]

"Is the Admiral. . .feeling better?"

[Aye. He's sitting right here. Do you wish to speak with him?']

"Yes."

A moment later, a very irritated looking Jonas Vox filled the screen. He made no mention of the fact that she'd shot him- knowing that they had more immediate problems.

Zanh wished he had brought it up now, knowing that the conversation that would occur later would become exponentially more awkward the longer it was delayed. How do you start that discussion with your personal CO? You can't just say; 'Hey, funny story, remember the time you were refusing to leave your ship and the star was about to eat it and I had to shoot you to kidnap you because you wouldn't listen to reason? Good times. . .'

[What do you need, Captain?] Vox spun the last word tightly, conveying his aggravation.

"I need to know who was flying your ship when you got pulled into 626's atmosphere."

[That would have been,] his tired eyes rolled upward toward the ceiling in thought. [Lieutenant Grant.]

"Thank you. Now tell me the name of every other flight controller that you had with you aboard the Executor. I need to borrow one."

[I could give you that list, but if you want a pilot who will be more fashioned to your own peculiar tastes, Zanh Liis," he said softly, "Then you want to talk to the girl who was sitting in my brig.]

-=Personal Quarters of Ensign Dalca=-

Ensign Andraste sighed despondently as she attached her new ensign pip to her uniform's red collar. A few minutes ago, she had been summoned to the ready room by the Serendipity's commanding officer. The young woman had no doubt that this was going to be about the disaster aboard the Executor, which had almost cost Captain Zanh her life.

Of course, Nimue had really done nothing wrong – or, at the very least, she had not intended to do anything wrong. That, however, had never kept anyone from blaming her when a problem arose. True, she did have a tendency to be around when things went south, but Nimue was certain it was not her fault that Murphy's Laws had developed an unfortunate affection for her.

Going over to the full-length mirror in Warren's quarters, Nimue examined herself critically. She pulled her wavy brown hair back into a ponytail, tugged at her uniform jacket and straightened her combadge slightly. Satisfied that everything was in order, she nodded at her reflection to acknowledge a job well done and made her way up to the bridge.

A few moments later, she ran – quite literally – into Dane Cristiane outside the turbolift doors. Being considerably lighter and shorter than she was, Nimue took the worst of it and stumbled backward while he stood still and scowled.

"Hi," she greeted him cheerfully once she had regain her balance.

Dane grunted something under his breath that was inaudible.

Nimue stepped into the 'lift and held the door open for him. "Well?"

"I'm going to wait for the next one."

She blinked. "You can't be serious."

Dane simply cross his arms across his chest and growled.

"Whatever," Nimue decided with a roll of her eyes. "Bridge."

-=Captain's Ready Room=-

The person standing outside her door was, like Dabin Reece, a bell-leaner.

Zanh gulped the last sip of coffee from her mug and killed the musical playback. She hoped that Vox knew what he was doing, suggesting this very young, inexperienced Ensign to take the conn for the rest of their journey to Gibraltar Depot, and perhaps through the battle that could be waiting for them once they got there.

She would really hate if she had to tackle a total stranger and wrestle the helm away from their grasp at the last critical moment. But she would do it if she had to.

"Enter." Zanh called, raising her voice to be sure she'd be heard over the continuously sounding door chime.

The chime, however, did not stop when the door opened. Nor did Andraste come in. Instead, Zanh heard some fierce whispering. A moment passed. Then a young woman stuck her head in the door and, before promptly disappearing again, said, "Just a minute." This was followed by the sound of someone slapping the bulkhead. Finally, the door bell gave Zanh some peace.

Finally, the Serendipity's would-be helm officer walked into the ready room, with a sheepish look on her face. "The bell got stuck," she explained, rather unnecessarily.

"You don't say." Liis replied, suppressing a smile, "Why don't you have a seat?"

"Can I just say," Nimue volunteered at she meekly took the chair being offered her, "That the whole thing with the Executor was not my fault. It was totally Vox's fault."

"Oh?" Zanh raised an eyebrow, her index finger working a lazy circle around the rim of her empty cup as she sat behind her desk. This girl had what the Humans called 'cojones'. Barely out of the Academy and she was putting the blame for what happened aboard a Federation starship onto the shoulders of the commanding Admiral? That took nerve.

Even though Zanh knew deep down that the young woman was entirely correct in her bold assertion. What happened to the Executor, and the Alchemy, and what may still happen to the Serendipity was Vox's fault entirely. That was not, however, information that she would sharing with the spritely youth before her.

"How do you figure that, Ensign?" Zanh narrowed her eyes intentionally. She waited for Nimue to respond, turning up the heat setting of her stare to maximum.

"Well, you know, we had a...misunderstanding. So he locks me in the brig for two weeks – which is fine, I mean, it isn't like it's the first time that's ever happened. But you wouldn't have been in danger if he hadn't left me in there to fry when he evacuated the ship." Nimue paused thoughtfully, then continued. "Come to think of it, I wouldn't have been in danger either. Then he thinks it's a good idea to send the Great Dane after me – who is, by the way, more pit bull than anything else…."

"Me." Zanh interjected evenly.

"Sir?"

"I would be the one who sent Ensign Cristiane after you." Zanh's expression did not alter. "Please, continue."

"Um…right. Okay, well – you know was pretty much done. Oh – if you really want to blame someone, I think it's only fair you blame Starfleet. I mean…they're just handing out broken combadges now? Where is the quality control there? I'm just sayin'."

Zanh tilted her head to the side and fiddled with the chain of her earring as she spoke. "What do you do well, Ensign?"

"Ma'am?" Nimue observed the flash in Zanh's eyes, and adjusted course. "Sir?"

"Captain."

"Sure." She agreed. Then, noticing that Zanh was looking at her expectantly, added, "Captain."

"Well, you seem to be having some issue with taking responsibility for the fact that you would not have been on the Executor to begin with if you had not broken the law. You choose instead to blame everyone else for the sad situation that you got yourself into, including speaking ill of the man who followed my order to risk his life to rescue you and the man who was commanding that ship and could have had you immediately stripped of your diploma, ending your career in Planck time."

Zanh scanned Nimue for any sign of understanding -any hint that this mere child got it that the road she was traveling was not one that would win her any points with the older, higher-ranking woman before her.

"So." Zanh continued. "Since you've done so poorly at accepting the consequences of your own reckless, disrespectful and let's not forget, because this is my favorite part, illegal actions, I was wondering what is it that you do well, Nimue Andraste?"

Nimue stared at her hands for a while, then took a deep and calming breath before offering Zanh a sad little shrug. "Not much, I guess." She took another moment to think about it and seemed to wander off. "I mean…I'm pretty funny. I have good taste in clothes. I play a decent game of tennis. I'm told I'm fantastic in bed…."

"Ensign...."

"What?" Nimue shook her head, "Oh…right. Sorry. Well…the only thing I do well that Starfleet cares about is flying, Captain. If your engineers could slap an impulse drive on your desk, I could make it do the cha-cha-cha all the way back to Earth. Not that, you know, I like to brag or anything. And...can I say something in my own defense?"

"That is where you just got in trouble, Ensign."

"Yes, Si…Captain."

Liis considered this for a moment and then nodded her assent.

"I just...I'm sorry if you think I was disrespectful to Dane. I honestly didn't mean to be – but, you know, he really is kind of an angry douche bag. And Vox...well, I don't know what his problem is but he's just mean. I did make a mistake but it was for a noble cause…."

Zanh gave her a skeptical look. "Noble cause?"

Nimue paused. "Okay, so it wasn't a noble cause – exactly – I was just trying to have some fun. But that's important too, right? All I'm saying is that I am not the reason you almost died. If you still want to throw me in the brig for it," the Ardanan/Betazoid hybrid shrugged, "Well...it's your ship, Captain."

"Yes, it is. I'm overjoyed that you accept that fact so willingly, Ensign." Zanh's tone softened just barely as she looked at Andraste once more. "Bottom line? Here's the thing. Sera is my ship, and if I had an extra pair of hands, I'd be flying her myself right now. But I don't, and I need to focus on doing my own job. My senior flight controller is in Sickbay, and well, Ensign, to put it bluntly,

Zanh leaned forward and folded her hands on the desktop. "Welcome aboard the USS Serendipity. You've been drafted."

Ensign Nimue Andraste
About to take the helm
USS Serendipity

and

-=/\=- Captain Zanh Liis
Commanding Officer
USS Serendipity NCC-2012