Acts of Rebellion

Posted on Tue Oct 31st, 2023 @ 1:09pm by Commodore Jacob Kane & Lieutenant Commander P’rel M.D

Mission: Wrath of the People
Location: Starfleet Headquarters
Timeline: 24 Hours after "Ramifications"
1580 words - 3.2 OF Standard Post Measure

Aside from his conversation with Keating, the other obvious conversation Kane had pending was with Lieutenant P'rel. With the circus around Starfleet Command's rapid u-turn and his subsequent promotion, it felt like things had become rather busy. But it wasn't a meeting he wanted to postpone.

He'd chosen to arrange the meet for a balcony overlooking San Francisco bay. It was an old hangout of his leftover from his academy days; not well-known, a little out of the way, and suitable for a discussion of this nature. What he was going to say, however, still eluded him, even when he heard her approach.

Notably quieter than the rest of the public spaces, but not conspicuously so, the Vulcan noted the choice of venue Kane had stated was far from a happenstance. Debriefed by Command, Security, Intelligence and even Medical, the Lieutenant had been cleared of wrongdoing owing to the sealed nature of the case; perhaps that was fair, she had considered many times, perhaps it wasn't. Ultimately Nerak was in prison, and a raft of coconspirators within Starfleet had been arrested pending investigations.

Some good had come of all of this, even if it had cost her and Finnley, and even the Captain. As she approached him, she noticed he had taken the time to update his uniform to befit his new rank; there wasn't a huge difference in Flag uniforms however, but even so the subtle differences suited him somehow. "Sir" she said softly, announcing her presence as he looked across the concourse from the balcony - past the concourse probably, and out into the Bay itself. Water seemed to have a somewhat sedating, contemplative effect on most humans she had discovered.

"It's funny," he said, not quite acknowledging her, but at the same time storytelling for her benefit. "When I was at the Academy, I was standing just over there when the Breen plasma torpedoes rained down from the skies. A green cadet. No idea how complicated the universe actually could be." He let go of the railing he had been grasping tightly. "We've come a long way since then. And yet...the scars seem to remain."

She approached and followed his gaze out to a small common area on the Academy grounds; it was difficult to imagine Kane as anything other than the man she knew, let alone a cadet. She wasn't quite sure what he was getting at, nor which part of his statements to pin a response to. "Complicated...is evidently a way of life..." she began, before testing a bond with him; "...for people like us", she finished.

"Yes." He nodded in agreement. "On the other hand, we walk some fine lines far too closely." His head finally turned from the tiny memorial somewhere in a garden to look at the Vulcan. "You had Keating lie on the stand. I understand what you were intending to do, but you played a little too fast-and-loose with lives for my liking. This isn't a game of Dabo. Real people could have suffered lifelong damage."

Nodding thoughtfully in agreement, she momentarily looked Kane in the eye - just for barely a fraction of a second - before she had to look away. His eyes were like phaser beams which could penetrate her very katra. She exhaled deeply, collecting her words; "I need not remind you of that which you already know - that the needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few..." she deflected, or at least attempted to.

"Does your logic extend to your Commanding Officer being framed for treason? Seems like that doesn't quite add-up; expending all that effort for one man." He shook his head. "I know you better than to assume you hide behind logic, P'rel. You gambled. There's nothing logical about that."

Taking a few steps to the balcony railing, she mirrored his earlier body language and stared across the concourse and the bay as she spoke, in a measured and careful tone. "One man can serve the needs of the many..." she offered cryptically, looking at her feet suddenly as if there were some divine answer there she looked back up and continued; "...you are a good person, and the Federation needs good people sat in the Captain's chairs across Starfleet, across the galaxy. Was it a gamble...yes, but a calculated one; ultimately I needed to draw them out...and it worked".

"So now I'm a pawn in your grand plan to stick it to the man?" he said, his own eyebrow raised almost Vulcan-style at the rhetorical question. "You know, as much as you like to pretend you don't care about your posting to Athena and the crew you 'have' to work with...why am I getting the sense that you actually like it there?"

"You were already a pawn in someone's plan" she countered quite truthfully. "I only changed the rules of the game to ensure we won". She ignored his question, at least directly; "You will recall that prior to the bombing I was offered reassignment back to my old posting, and I declined..." P'rel didn't want to spend any time on the uncomfortable topic of where she wanted to be, lest she reveal that ultimately where she wanted to be was wherever Kane was; she had developed a strong loyalty to the man. He had earned it, of course, and she had been forced several times over to reevaluate her professional goals and values, having found a - whilst somewhat problematic - kindred officer who shared her priorities for the most part. "I visited Commander Keating this morning..." she offered, trying to turn the topic of conversation onto someone else.

"Indeed." She wasn't the only one to have shared company with Finn. "I returned her to active status on Athena. But not without a stern word about her choice in friends." He fixed her with a meaningful look. "I wonder how many more of my senior staff you are yet to lead astray?"

"Commander Zora should prove a sufficient challenge..." P'rel responded, turning back to face Kane and offering a way out of the tense conversation with an attempt at humour.

"Good luck," Kane snorted. The moment of levity waited in the still air. "I assume that means you haven't changed your mind about the reassignment, then? I assume you've pissed off more than your fair share of senior officers and fellow spooks by this point." He raised an eyebrow at her. "I suppose I'm your last resort, then?"

She returned his raised brow; "I have not altered my mind. With your permission, I will return to the ship and recommence my duties".

"I guess I owe you that much for saving my bacon," he acknowledged. "If you think you're still in a position to play well with others, we've got plenty of work to do. I've been assigned to head-up Starfleet's primary operations along the border, along with a small squadron of dedicated ships. No doubt I'll be needing a hand to make sense of all of the intel they gather."

"No doubt" P'rel returned. "Will there be anything else, Commodore?", she asked. Relieved that this encounter had gone far smoother than she had anticipated.

The smile on his face wasn't one he could hide. "Yes." He put a small box down on the edge of the railing. "Like I said, I'll need help with coordinating the actions of multiple ships at once. Lieutenant Commander Shan has already transferred to take command of the USS Spartan, meaning I have a gap to fill at Second Officer." He let the unspoken meaning of that set in. "Since you're so keen on having 'good people in the Captain's chair' perhaps you'd like to have a shot at that yourself at some point?"

Were she not so in control of her reactions, the Vulcan would have gulped. He surely wasn't serious? It was flattering, of course, that someone with as keen instincts as he would want her at his right hand. She eyed the box on the railing, then looked to Kane, the box and back to Kane again. "No thank you" she said flatly.

"I'm afraid this is a package deal," he said, without a trace of humour. "If you want to stay, this is the cost. Not so much a reward...call it a penance." It was a small gamble on his part, but he knew he had her backed into a corner; she wasn't going to be desirable under any other command. And he suspected she wasn't ready to just walk away entirely.

P'rel stood for a moment calculating her options; the last thing in the galaxy she wanted was to be a leader; more to the point she supposed. He did say it was a penance after all. She snatched the box off of the railing and fixed him with a stern look. "I will not say thank you" she informed him bluntly.

"I'm sure you and Commander Zora will be thrilled to continue your close working relationship," he retorted, just as bluntly. "Welcome back, Lieutenant Commander."

Expletives were usually a conveyance of emotion, and so the Vulcan language had retained very few of them over the centuries; but the few remaining ones rattled around her mind at moment. A decidedly curt "Sir" was instead all that came out as she wheeled around and stormed off in that way that only a Vulcan could.