Assuming the Guard

Posted on Fri Jul 22nd, 2016 @ 1:41am by Master Chief Petty Officer Tanner Willeg & Colonel Damian Highsmith M.Eng & General Domingo Chavez

Mission: Zero Week
Location: Sector Command Offices- Deck 29, Section B, Starbase 329
Timeline: Mission Day 2, 0900

ON:

Damian was sitting down in the conference room nursing a cup of raktajino in his right hand and tapping on the desk impatiently with his left. He had been summoned here along with Tanner for something important that was yet to be disclosed. Taking a sip of the hot and sweet brew, he sighed as he swallowed and a warmth spread from the top of his head to the very tips of his toes. For some reason it was cold. In fact, it felt like it was freezing- the goose pimples rising from the back his hand were proving that His tapping became more impatient and increased in force to a sharp staccato beat that became more and more arrhythmic the longer he waited in this frigid room . His frustration building, he rose from his chair and walked over to one of the massive floor to ceiling windows and watched as the ships came and went, jumping to warp as they approached the boundary of the station. It was almost like a beating heart, with blood rushing to and from every chamber and circulating it throughout the body. It helped distract him from his impromptu confinement and place him into a sense of Zen. Taking another sip of his drink, he felt another surge of heat spread through his body, although this one wasn't as strong. Clenching the fingers in his free hand, he felt the pins and needles sensation of blood flow back into his barely numb arm.

"It's beautiful, don't you think?" Damian posed the question to Tanner, looking her over like a scientist would a prized subject.

Years ago, the constant tapping would've grated on Tanner's nerves, she would've glared, then eventually, placed her hand over his, forcing the tapping to stop. But she wasn't who she was years ago. Now she simply waited. She was seated at one of the chairs around the conference table with her head leaned back, eyes closed, her motionless form portraying the outward effect of carelessness that betrayed the constantly working gears. A new ship always came with problems, even if it was fully refitted and ready, there would be kinks to work out with the system, with the crew. The scheduling alone would most likely be a discussion, if not a problem. And each department would have requests, both practical and personal, in terms of stocking each area and facility. Some of those requests would be reasonable, doable, and others ridiculous. Damian's voice broke her out of her reverie. "Yes." Tanner opened her eyes, spun her chair around to face the windows and nodded. "But I have a different reason than you for thinking it's beautiful." Her head tilted, one brow raised, and Tanner smiled.


Damian turned to look at Tanner, her hair in a signature state of disarray. To him, it was slightly annoying yet endearing at the same time. She was the embodiment of a walking contradiction- dedicated to her job but despised regulations and made it her mission to trounce them wherever they could be found, and she had always been sure of herself but now, Damian sensed that there was some hesitation, especially where the two of them were concerned. Raising his own eyebrow, he walked back over to his chair and slowly sat down.

"What would that different reason be?" he asked, leaning forward towards her.

There was something about the fact that he leaned forward. It wasn't what she hadn't been expecting; it went against character. Once upon a time, she would've just brushed it off, because he was speaking to her, not some random person, but after everything that'd happened, she didn't know what to think. It wasn't typical for Damien, at least as she'd known him, to be interested in the intricacies of the opposing viewpoint. Even when it'd been an issue, he didn't ask... More often than not when there'd been any disagreement it was a just that: they disagreed, it became a debate or heated discussion, and they either figured out a compromise or...

They eventually figured things out, or they didn't. They'd always been different. Tanner looked out the window, then returned to her previous position: her eyes closed, she settled back in her chair, and with a single motion she pushed, causing the chair to turn away from the window as her leg pulled up under her on the chair. Because he'd leaned forward, she could feel her knees brush against his as the chair spun. "You look out at the ships coming and going, and see it as part of the system, the way the world works. Everything keeps going... And it's beautiful. But you think it keeps going because it has a reason, because this that or the other thing makes it make sense."

"I see the beauty in the chaos. There are twenty-five ships, all with the same engine and specifications, but each of them is different, each individual piece has been touched by a different pair of hands, been sitting still for this length of time, been through this mission or that. It makes a difference. The level of stress, the amount of time it's been running, the people who've maintained it, the missions it's been on or the lack thereof. I see every engine, piece of machinery as unique, and having had it's own life. You find comfort in the system, in the fact that we follow the rules and do things a certain way. I see the beauty in that chaos. It's a miracle that despite the fact that Starfleet tries to make everything work within the system, tries to make everything the same, even something as non-sequitur as a machine still doesn't and cannot at all times conform to those rules. The idea and concept that we, as humanoids, insistent on patterns, can somehow keep all those ships in the air, keep things moving, despite our own differences, despite all the problems that are inevitable... That's beautiful."


Even after all these years, Tanner still managed to take Damian aback with her viewpoint. As always, she was correct- he did always see things in a lockstep form- it either worked or it didn't. He was a Marine, where they taught that everything was black and white and that gray areas were anomalies that needed to be corrected before they got bigger and caused problems that couldn't be so easily fixed. And then there was Tanner... she was a tempest- a whirlwind of contradictions, possibilities, and attitude. She had forced Damian to confront many feelings that he had kept to himself over the years and in a way he was grateful to her for it but there were other days that she filled him with a sense of sadness, longing, and anger. When they loved each other, they loved like there was no tomorrow and when they hated, they could strike fear into the fiercest Klingon warrior.

Deep down, Damian still loved Tanner but both of them had made some unconscious decision to keep a cautious distance from each other since she had decided to pursue her career ahead of parenthood- a strongly divergent path that had driven a particularly painful wedge between the both of them. Each day following their loss had been filled with tears and screaming that eventually subsided into pained silence to the point that they could barely bear to be in the same room as each other for a long time. Eventually, he had packed his things and left to try to make sense of his life and his place in the universe in the only way that he could- through his duty.

"You're right. In fact, you're absolutely right. It's chaotic but there is a sequence in it all." he said, sighing as he leaned against the rail.

"That sequence you see is a want for pattern, and it could go wrong, go against plan at any given moment." Live in the moment, fix the problem at hand. Tanner remembered some point in the past, building a shuttle craft out of nothing but what happened to be on the ship, random supplies and whatever spare pieces could be scraped together. It'd been a great ship, once it was built, not perfect, but workable, and... "The perfect combination of tactical and mechanical feasibility."

Realizing the statement didn't make sense, Tanner sucked in a breathe and stood. It wouldn't make sense to anyone other than him. But it did, make sense. It made great sense, which was why the Betazoid engineer found herself walking across the room and looking out the window. As he leaned against the rail. pretending to be at ease, she rested her hands upon it, pushing forward, staring out that window with anticipation. "I get it, I know you don't want to deal with me, and to be honest..." Her head dropped, then turned, her chin resting on her shoulder, her eyes meeting his momentarily before darting away. "We worked well together... at one point."

There was an uncomfortable silence in the room that lasted for what felt like eons. Then Damian decided to break it. Letting out a slightly sarcastic laugh, he launched into a rambling rant of feelings that he had been bottling up for months. "We worked well at one point? Is that the best you can say? I mean, we did more than work well with each other, Tanner, we were going to start a life together. Then... Then you decided to go off on your escapades as always, leaving me to wonder what you would or wouldn't do next." His hands were a flurry of motion as he gesticulated as if to make his points with sharp hand gestures. "There were points when I wanted to chase after you and bring you back but then I realized something- no matter how many times I searched for you, it would never be enough. You never wanted to settle. Not with me. Not with anyone." Damian sighed for a moment, a single, solitary tear welling up in his eye. Quickly turning away, he relented and fell into a pensive silence.

Still staring out the window, Tanner dropped her head, closed her eyes and sucked in a breath. After a moment, her head lifted, turned toward Damien and then once again dropped down, "we did work well together." Her eyes opened once again, staring out the clear glass, watching the constant motion, the coming and going of the spacedock. "I miss that. I miss what we had, working to build something new." Tanner sucked in a breath, finally looked at him, black eyes staring. She lifted her hand, her palm grazing his jawline. Pushing herself forward, and raising up on her toes, her eyes drifted closed as she brushed her lips against his cheek, kissing away the single tear. Tanner sighed and dropped back to the floor, "But you're right. I didn't want to settle."

Damian took a deep breath as he fought the urge to pace the room. Attempting to silence his racing thoughts, he was interrupted as he saw a pair of immaculately shined shoes enter the room. Slowly bringing his head up, his face drained of color as he saw who the shoes belonged to- General Domingo Chavez, Commandant of the Starfleet Marine Corps. Snapping to attention, Damian stared straight ahead, his gaze piercing the nearby bulkhead.

General Chavez looked around the room at Damian, then over to Tanner where his face began to reflect a look of slight disapproval as he noticed Tanner was still sitting on the deck. Turning back to Damian, he looked him over slowly, looking for any infinitesimal mistake in his uniform or bearing. "You know, I was really surprised when they picked you for another command, Highty-Tighty." Domingo continued his inspection for a few moments, his eyes razor sharp. Finally stepping back, he took his seat and beckoned to Damian, pointing to a seat directly opposite him.

Tanner cocked her head, interested to find out why she’d been summoned here in the first place. Highty-Tighty? Raising a brow, the engineer remained where she was, sitting on the floor. Ordinarily, she might smirk at the comment, for it did have some form of truth to it, but the General obviously wasn’t making the comment in good humor, and Tanner couldn’t decipher any reason why this person would be making the statement with such disdain.

"What's even more surprising is that they decided to give you a Kelvin to run around the Delta Quadrant with-" Domingo slid a PADD across the table, Damian deftly stopped it and spun it around. Reading it over, Damian was at a loss for words, he was finally getting back into the center chair where he belonged. In that moment, everything seemed to slow down to the point where everything was simply inching forward at a snail’s pace. His heart began pounding in his chest as he finished reading the PADD. Setting it down slowly, Damian tried desperately to project an aura of calm.

"-You'll even notice the name might seem a little familiar. I notice you spent a good hour in the museum judging by the security footage and you researched her pretty extensively so I figured I'd pull a few strings and get her named for you." Domingo said as if he had simply tapped a few keys as opposed to exercising the massive amount of political power that Damian knew that he had.
Lifting herself from the floor, Tanner came across the room to glance at the PADD over Damien’s shoulder. Her eyes lifted to the General, a clear question in them. She didn’t ask out loud, but it was obvious she was curious about something.

"Colonel Damian Highsmith, please stand."

Damian, still slightly surprised, stood and came to the position of attention.

For whatever reason, she’d been summoned here to witness the pomp and ceremony of the changing of hands, changing of ships, and general orders. Considering this wasn’t some kind of party, or official ceremonial with the presence of the entire crew, she didn’t see the purpose of another person/herself being there. And despite her own questions on the general interaction, knowing they wouldn’t be answered here and now, possibly not ever, she didn’t see the point of standing at attention or even paying attention.

"Colonel Damian Highsmith, effective immediately, you are hereby authorized and ordered to assume command of the USS Hammersley. Select your crew and depart within the next 7 days to the Delta Quadrant. Prior to your departure, I will be delivering a more detailed briefing detailing your mission. Until then, you're dismissed."

Tanner had resumed staring out the viewport, watching the ships entering and leaving the docking bays. When she heard the General say that Damian was dismissed, she waited a beat, wondering if the man would even acknowledge her ever being in the room.

"Sir, I accept these orders and will carry them out." Damian said, the same rehearsed script that he had heard several times.

Domingo looked him over again and let out a sly smile. "Then you're dismissed, Colonel. I'll see you in six days."

Damian nodded and turned on his heel to exit the room. Reaching the door, he stopped and turned to Tanner, who was still staring out of the viewport. "Master Chief, let's go." Thoughts raced through his mind at one million parsecs a second. The general did know that a full overhaul of a ship that size would take weeks, if not months if the engineers were working on normal shifts. Turning to Tanner, he smiled a highly uncharacteristic and devious smile. "Tanner Willeg, will you go on one last crazy adventure with me and soar through the stars?"

"Seems it's never one last, Colonel." She raised a brow as she walked across the room, "but you know I'm always ready for another round."
:OFF