USS Vesta

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Posted on Tue Aug 11th, 2020 @ 6:53pm by Commodore Yoshi Minawara

Mission: When the Bough Bounces
Location: Commodore's Ready Room
Timeline: MD0 6 hours following "Little People, Big Station"
1541 words - 3.1 OF Standard Post Measure

The clock that hung on the wall was incredibly basic looking, painted to look like an owl sitting in a bird house, it's eyes swinging opposite to a small brass pendulum that ticked away the seconds in a slightly loud and obnoxious tick, tock, tick, tock, tick, tock.... The six hundredth tick had sounded, meaning the four people in the room had been standing in silence for five minutes. Well, almost silence.

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Lieutenant Gabriel Ramirez went to clear his throat, to begin to say something when the horrible sound of metal bending and twisting in ways it shouldn't filled the room, and glass sprinkled down onto the deck plating in a shower of powdered crystals. A few more ticks and tocks later and the bent remains of a PaDD fell to the deck to join the pile of rainbows. Three pairs of eyes tracked it's fall to the ground, and then back up to the red and gold uniformed man standing across from them, one arm tucked neatly behind his back, which was to them, the other up in front of the figure. He was not necessarily a tall man, taller than average, but his presence filled the room as if he was eight feet tall.

"Lieutenant. You have been a member of Starfleet for 6 years, disregarding of course your time at the academy. Service without any marks against your record, nothing of note of course. You are on track to become a Chief Tactical Officer in a few years. You have been head of your section for a year, and have been commended for your treatment of your Junior officers." It was a reading of the man's service record, condensed of course, and any other time he would be standing in front of a Flag Officer, it would be a compliment, it at least praise. Today it felt like a super heated Iron shoved into his guts.

"Lieutenant Junior Grade Emily McKinnon. Two altercations in your career, one was a fight that broke out in a bar, you tried to intervene. The second, you punched a Romulan Republic guard when he, and I quote, 'Made comments of the quality of your bloodline, and promiscuity of your father.' Over all, your four years of service have been relatively positive, obvious mentions aside. You are Ensign Garet Keiths' partner on patrol." The tone was calm and even, read as though it were nothing more than fact. Still, the young woman was sweating heavily, her eyes darted to her section leader just in front of her. She could see the streaks where sweat was pooling along his collar as well, eyes darting back to the Commodore standing with his back to them still.

Ensign Garet Keiths swallowed hard.

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"Ensign." Commodore Minawara for the first time since the had entered the room turned to face them. His face was a cold Stone mask, impervious to scrutiny or even the idea that emotion might be present. Vulcans gave more away.

"You've been with Starfleet one year, two months, eight days. Two assignments, USS Tamir, and Sirius Station. Aboard the Tamir you requested room reassignments three times, one to due to 'the smell of my bolian room mate', the second because you thought your Terrician room .ate lied about being telepathic and was secretly reading your mind. During your time at the academy you hazed a Ferengi cadet so hard he dropped out of the academy and returned to Ferenginar." The room fell silent but for the sound of the clock. "Now imagine my surprise when I catch my Chief Science Officer and the son of one of my crewmen coming aboard from a surfing trip the pair were extremely excited to attend, looking like they'd returned from a funeral. Normally, catching Mister Marc after a surf, only the promise of a chance to catch up later would silence him from telling me about the waves he caught, or the excitement of teaching a pupil to surf. Not a peep from him." The sound of Federation boots on Federation deck plating echoed different, somehow worse than the incessant ticking. The Commodore was now mere feet from the lead officer, but his voice didn't lower any.

"Imagine my surprise when Taran, the small boy with Lieutenant Commander Marc, was the one to tell me that someone in question had been a jerk to the pair, a Starfleet Officer. And that said Officer had, in the words of a small boy, 'Been mean, but Nolan had told him to go away.' So I had a short talk with Rear Admiral Lancaster, and pulled the security footage of the stop. Listened to the conversation. Ensign do you care to explain to me why you stopped these boys?"

Garet slowly opened his mouth, but found the words stuck, lost as they were in the moment. "They were suspicious sir?" That was the best he could manage, and in that moment, he regretted them immensely. Sometimes it was better to say nothing, than to say something, he was realizing. Keiths' eyes met Yoshi's, and in them he found an inferno of anger, and he felt small.

"Two people, who appear as children, in board shorts and wet shirts, were suspicious to you?" The room felt as if it lost a few degrees, and the man visibly winced away from the Commodore. "I have another theory. One that Lieutenant Commander Marc shares, and after a review of your file, Starfleet Security also seems to share." Turning away from the, Yoshi paced to the end of his office again, the crunch of glass powder under his boot. "Did you know you disproportionately stop non-Federation species nearly sixty percent more than you do others? And according to your records, improper or false arrests are made against non-Humans a whole thirty percent more. Reviews of footage of your interviews and interrogations shows use of the term "you people" far too often for my comfort Ensign."


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Realization is a hard thing to come by for a Federation Officer, when it comes to self realization anyways. The look inside was nasty, but it was even worse when you were forced to do it in a room full of people. Garet's eyes hit the deck plating, he was being called out, and he was mad. Tears welled in his eyes from rage, and when he raised his head again he found his superior and his partner were looking dead ahead, disgust on their face barely hidden. Commodore Minawara had turned around again, and the anger was kept just behind his eyes in a way that threatened to consume the Ensign. "I served with your father," the Commodore said, a move that froze the man. "I know he died in the Borg invasion in 2381, and I know he was a damn good officer. He would be disgusted with the man you are." Keiths' mouth opened, his composure was lost, he started to shout, but he found himself slammed up against the wall. From where the Commodore stood, he watched as Ramirez held him up against the wall, with Lieutenant McKinnon standing with her hand on her phaser. Once again the command officer crossed the room to stand over the other man.

"Your brand of racism has no place in Starfleet Mister Keiths. As of now I hereby relieve you of rank," he said, unceremoniously ripping the Ensign pip from the other man's collar. "You will be held on Sirius Station until such time that you can be given a formal hearing where your future will be decided. For now, all privileges granted to you as a Starfleet Officer are hereby revoked, and you will be confined to the Brig. Your charges are insubordination, racial profiling of Federation and non-Federation members, abuse of authority, and conduct unbecoming an Officer. Counsel will be provided, but seeing as it is Friday, there is a good chance you will not be seen until Monday." He looked to the pair of Security Officers, his face still a cold mask. "Get him off my ship."

The Commodore could hear the shouts of anger and questions of the Commodore's character as the man was dragged through the bridge, a few well placed racial slurs to seal the deal, and then silence.

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Yoshi crossed the room and grabbed the pendulum, leaving the owl to stare at him accusingly. Maybe it was the post-surgery temperament, the micro-pain that pulled at his core. Maybe it was the twinge of regret for the position he'd placed Izzy in on the planet, or maybe, it was the sudden yanking of the curtain back to reveal the shortcomings of the Federation in recent years, but right now, Yoshi wasn't having anyone's bullshit. And it felt like the owl knew that too, it's painted eyes looking at him with a sense of annoyance itself. "My ancestors should have left you in that damned antique shop," he cursed, letting go of the pendulum and stepping back, alone with his thoughts.


silence

 

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