A Sense of Purpose

Posted on 09 Oct 2016 @ 5:25pm by Commodore Harvey Geisler

2,184 words; about a 11 minute read

Mission: Click Three Times
Location: Warrant Officer Tanika's Quarters
Timeline: MD8 || 1500 hours

Janell sighed. It had been just two weeks ago when Commodore Zachary O’Connell assigned her to his office. She’d gained a reputation on the USS Akihito for being one of the least organized legal officers. The woman had been put on report several times, and it was a miracle she’d been accepted as a candidate for Warrant Officer. This wasn’t to say she was terrible at her job, in fact, it was an accepted idiom that the lack of organization was a sign of brilliance.

She wasn’t brilliant either. In fact, she often doubted her decisions and conclusions, despite the hours of research she devoted to law every day and the fact that her conclusions were often correct. Her superiors had confidence in her, but she never did. That was perhaps the biggest reason why she was surprised she’d been reassigned and promoted.

She quickly learned why, and it disappointed her even more to learn it had nothing to do with her merits. Janell was Betazoid. And despite The Consortium’s use of empathic races, Betazoids were the Federation’s best defense against the insurgent group. For all of the experience she’d garnered in six years of service, none of it involved probing minds, at least not at the Starfleet level. Her heritage taught her how to read those around her, especially her own kind, but it was never something she was comfortable with.

The worst part of it all, she found herself on special assignment to the Black Hawk. The Commodore had briefed the ship’s captain on her lack of experience, something Captain Geisler attempted to rectify the moment Consortium captives were on board. It was the most uncomfortable experience of her life. Not only had she no idea what to expect, much less be prepared for what happened in those brigs. She still had no words to describe it, even though she was on her tenth draft of her report to the Commodore.

What bothered her the most was that she had no idea what to do next. The Black Hawk was sucked into a different universe. The Consortium agents were kept under locked guard and no longer served as proper subjects for study, not that she even had the ability to study them. It would be days, weeks, or even years before they could find a way home.

If they could get home.

Without warning, her combadge chirped. =/\= “Geisler to Warrant Officer Tanika.” =/\=

She looked up. Until the combadge went off, she’d been sitting at her desk with her head laying on her crossed arms. A nearly empty bottle of wine, a Bajoran vintage she’d picked up prior to leaving the Alpha Quadrant, sat beside her with the combadge resting beside it. Janell sighed, not exactly keen on seeing the captain while inebriated.

But, there would be no denying the captain. She picked up the gold and silver badge and tapped it once. “Tanika here.”

=/\= “Report to my quarters, Warrant Officer. Geisler out.” =/\=

The badge closed the signal on its own. In turn, she bowed her head in resignation, her mind wondering what the Captain could want. She’d never pegged him for a man seeking relief in the opposite sex, nor did she sense any prior interest in him towards her. Reluctantly, she stood, zipped up her red tunic and affixed the combadge to her uniform. She had no official duty shift aboard the ship, but she did not feel up to wearing her jacket. Captain Geisler would have to live with it.

In his quarters, Harvey sat at his desk with two PADDs before him. One was a complete manifest of the ship’s personnel. Another contained the list of people going on the mission. Aside from security personnel of Lieutenant Corwin’s choosing, Lieutenants Langston and Kilmartin, Doctor Kij and Ensign Dzhossen, Harvey still felt the team was lacking. There was room for one more, and what he needed above all was a person with empathy.

He needed a Betazoid.

The door chime sounded, and Harvey straightened his posture before turning towards the door that was behind him. “Come.”

With a swoosh, the panels parted, permitting Janell to enter. “Captain,” she said as she entered the room to address the fully uniformed man. “You wished to see me, sir?”

Harvey only nodded at the dark skinned woman and gestured at a chair he pulled up to the other side of the desk. “I did, Warrant Officer.” He waited for her to sit before continuing. His eyes watched her closely, taking note of her relaxed uniform and unkept hair. “I’m sorry for disturbing your downtime. I know it is in short supply these days.”

“It’s not a problem, sir,” she lied. “What is it you wished to discuss, Captain?” she asked, eager to get to the chase and leave.

“I’m sure you’ve heard by now what we’re planning on doing,” Harvey said, knowing how rampant the scuttlebutt could be on board.

“Actually, I haven’t,” Janell honestly replied. She’d kept to herself in her quarters, especially since her lack of organization was enough to irritate the Russian yeoman. Janell was a guest on this ship, and she felt her time would be better spent working in her quarters anyway.

Harvey raised an eyebrow, surprised that the Betazoid hadn’t heard. “We’re en route to a space station called Razmena. I believe it to be an independent station, a place where we can gather some information on the climate here and figure out our next steps.”

“Sir?” Janell asked, suddenly inquisitive. “We don’t know where we are, and you’re making assumptions?”

The Captain grunted, finally recognizing the woman the personnel file described. “In our universe, it was an independent station. We’ve already seen Karemma, so it’s safe to assume some things won’t be too different. Of course, it’s a hunch, and it is better than suffering the fate of the Cochrane.”

Janell nodded, not wanting to dispute the flawed premise. Even if she did, he was the Captain. She doubted she could construct an argument by sitting here without double checking a few regulations. “What does that have to do with me, sir?”

“I would like you to accompany me to the station,” he simply replied.

“Me?” Janell asked, her eyes wide in shock.

“You were assigned to this ship to help recognize possible Consortium agents,” Harvey stated. “A task to which you performed well. I now need your services to help guide our team.”

Janell scoffed and shook her head. “You’ve got the wrong girl, Captain.” Before Harvey could respond, Janell rose from her chair, folded her arms, and moved towards the viewport.

Harvey paused for a moment before rising from his own chair. He didn’t yet follow her, nor did he raise his voice or adjust his tone. “What are you talking about? Your file--”

“You don’t know me, Captain!” she spat out, her back still facing him. “I’ve never met a Karemma, a Dosi -- hell -- a Jem’Hadar for that matter.” She sighed and turned back towards him. “You need someone who’s had time in this quadrant. I’ve only been here since just before the Consortium took Deep Space 11, and all of my time has been stuck in an office.”

“I need a Betazoid,” Harvey countered. “I need someone who--”

“What about Lieutenant Roshe?” she fired back. “He’s a… a Counselor. And a diplomat. Plus, he looks like he can handle himself in a fight. You’ve got a couple Betazoids in security. Hell, you have half of one supervising Engineering. Why me!?”

She spun around and stared out into space.

Harvey looked at her backside for a moment or two. Then, he stepped out from behind the desk and approached her. Coming to a stop beside her, Harvey crossed his arms in front of him and looked out the viewport at the stars streaking by the ship. “Because people higher than myself saw something in you that you didn’t.”

Janell scoffed again. “The Commodore selected me for the very same reason you did. I’m a Betazoid and can sense emotion. I can tell when someone’s lying, withholding something, or telling the truth… among other things. Every… every Betazoid can.”

“But it’s the way you think is what’s important,” Harvey remarked. “Lieutenant Roshe is a Betazoid yes, and a diplomat no less.” He sighed, and shook his head. “This isn’t a time for diplomacy, as it’s not going to get us anywhere. No one knows who we are, but we are already targets. In our universe, the Karemma got real close with the Ferengi. It stands to reason that they’re equally minded here.”

“And what gives you that impression, sir?”

“History.”

Janell blinked and looked over at him. “History?” he repeated.

“Ever hear of the Mirror Universe?” Harvey asked. “All of the races and species we all know were present there, as were each of their core traits. They were just weighted differently.”

Janell raised an eyebrow. “That’s reasonable, I guess,” she said, half-heartedly agreeing with his premise.

“Captain James T. Kirk himself was among the first to visit it. We learned from sequential visits that Kirk was able to reach those core traits among the mirror of Ambassador Spock and change the course of that universe’s history. If it can happen once, it can happen again.”

She thought for a moment, then countered, “Kirk had Spock. What makes you think you can topple this Confederation?”

Harvey turned to look at her. “I don’t plan to topple anything. My desire is to retrieve our missing crew, if possible, and get us home. And I need your help to do it.”

Janell turned to look at him. “Again, sir. Why me?”

Harvey smirked for a moment. “You didn’t let me finish earlier, Miss Tanika. I need someone who can read people, discern intentions. Do you know that the Commodore and I have a history?”

“He mentioned it once or twice before that briefing on Unity,” she replied. “Especially the part where you ordered to capture his wife and deliver her to Terlexa. But you didn’t.”

“We started our careers hating each other,” he told her. “But I always respected his talent. The man… Zach… could fix anything. In recent weeks, we’ve started to move past that hatred, thanks to his wife.”

Getting back to the subject at hand, he continued, “He and I spoke just after the briefing. Like you, I questioned why you were being put on this assignment. Being Betazoid was part of it, but it was your analysis of both the written word and the spirit of the law that caught his attention. Too many people are black and white these days. You know how to see past that. That is what I need on this mission. I don’t need a diplomat to conduct trade. It’s not about that. It’s about knowing when I’m about to have the wool pulled over my eyes and to know who can be trusted.”

Harvey looked back towards the stars. “Take the Karemma for example. Say, in this universe, the Karemma are the quadrant’s Ferengi, bound by the Rules of Acquisition. We’re not just a target, we’re a commodity. And, if the Karemma and the Confederation have enemies, which who doesn’t have an enemy… then other people are going to want us as well. We’re going to be played from every angle.”

“And you really think I can see that?” Janell replied.

Harvey nodded. This whole escapade was a long shot, but it was all he had. Something had to come from it. “Yes, you can,” Harvey told her, phrasing the confirmation purposely.

Janell looked at Harvey, who turned his head to meet her doubtful gaze. For the first time since coming into his quarters, she opened her mental gazes and scanned his emotions. She could feel his doubts, but none of them were connected to her. Janell also sensed his sincerity and determination.

After a few more moments of study, she told him, “The Black Hawk needs her Captain. And these crews need you to get everyone home. I’ll go, but if only to keep your determination from doing something stupid.”

Harvey immediately grinned, pleased that she’d finally opened up a bit. “Now, who said anything about being stupid?”

Janell couldn’t help but smirk in response to the Captain’s infectious smile. “Your spirit,” she simply replied.

The Captain kept his smirk. “Tomorrow, Holodeck One. Oh-nine-hundred. Don’t be late.” He watched her nod and leave. As soon as he was alone, Harvey made a mental note to talk with Lieutenant Roshe to let him know why he wasn’t going on the mission. He had other ideas for the Betazoid counselor.

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