Demanding Answers

Posted on Wed May 21st, 2025 @ 10:20pm by Commander N'Garzi Zora & Lieutenant Commander P’rel M.D

Mission: Pandora's Box
Location: USS Athena, corridor near Sickbay
Timeline: MD 6 - Right after "Piecing It All Together"
1401 words - 2.8 OF Standard Post Measure

Zora marched along the corridor in the direction she hoped that P'rel had taken. She thought about returning to her office and calling the Vulcan up to see her. But would it be worth getting security to frog-march P'rel against her will, when she ignored the summons? It really would she thought, against her better judgement. The petty side of her would enjoy that very much and if the intelligence officer continued the way she was going, Zora might get a chance one day. But today was not the day, she needed to rise above being petty, for the sake of the mission and the ship.

Zora spotted the Vulcan and increased her speed to catch up with her. I'm getting déjà vu, why am I always chasing this woman around the ship? She decided against calling out and instead waited until she was within reaching distance and took P'rel's arm to slow her pace. "Are you going to tell me what that was all about or do I need to order you to?"

Recoiling, it took every fibre in every depth of every recess of Vulcan mental discipline not to send Zora through the bulkhead. The momentary flash of anger at being touched having subsided, P'rel composed herself and took, instead, to her usual calm demeanour. She found this to be generally be an effective method at aggravating the Commander. "Your logic assumes a fallacy " she plainly stated, standing with her hands clasped behind her back and her head slightly cocked to one side.

Zora took a slight step back as she looked into the Vulcan's cold eyes. She waited for a beat as a crewman in a blue uniform passed by them and disappeared into one of the rooms further up the corridor, presumably one of the medical labs. "How so?" She eventually asked, as she crossed her arms across her chest.

"That your orders supersede classification protocols and that I would thus obey them, ma'am" came the flat reply from the Vulcan, perhaps a hint of intentional smugness had crept it. Mostly unintentional. "Really Commander you must learn your place in the order of things" she finished, with factual eyes but just the barest flicker of the very faintest of a smile flashing up the corner of her lips for a nanosecond.

Navigating P'rel was just as dangerous as trying to navigate the badlands, at high warp. You were already in dangerous territory and risking the hull plating being ripped from your ship but if that wasn't enough you decided that going faster than the speed of light was just the adrenaline rush you needed. One wrong move, one miscalculation would mean sure and instant death. P'rel personified this, tenfold. And to add to the already life-threatening situation was the fact that there was no love lost between the pair of them. Rank be damned, P'rel was a force of nature, just like the plasma storms, and she wanted everyone to know it. So insecure, so sad! Zora mused internally. "Well considering you were happy to interrogate Zade in front of the Doctor and me, then I think it's safe to assume that not all aspects of this are classified," she said with a widening smile. "So tell me what you can so I can get back to work."

P'rel's head tiwtched to the side involuntarily as if she'd been hit in the jaw by Zora; Commander Clueless did have a point. "I am investigating a security breach involving Lieutenant Wrea and, potentially, Lieutenant Zade" she answered factually, without giving away more than the most superficial level of the matter.

"Okay," Zora replied, happy that they were finally getting somewhere. She wasn't pleased that these two officers were back on her radar again but tried to reserve judgment until she got a full picture of the situation. Well, part of the picture at least, there was no way P'rel was going to give up her power too easily and Zora was not in the habit of bending the knee. "Do you believe their involvement was accidental or intentional? And how much of a risk to the ship and the mission are we potentially looking at?"

P'rel looked at Zora. The Vulcan's instinct was to be flippant, to literally interpret the protocols she had every right to interpret in such a way; 'you do not have clearance' and the rest. In no small part, to derive satisfaction from winding the Executive Officer up. But, she had to admit she had no idea how to answer; the second part at least. The Vulcan hadn't been aware of the transmissions in the first place, and even if she had then she wouldn't have likely come to the conclusion that the away team was in danger,, and yet officers and crew lay dead and dying this very minute. So, truthfully, she couldn't be sure there wasn't a risk to the ship. She needed help. "Entirely deliberate. Lieutenant Wrea conspired to conceal transmissions. She has given a plausible and defensible justification though I do not necessarily believe her. Though I have confined her to quarters, I do not the extent of risk".

And this is the woman you decided to promote against my better judgement! It took every ounce of strength for Zora not to say the words out loud. Instead, she bit the inside of her cheek, a tried and tested technique that forced her to keep her mouth shut. "I see," was all she managed to say as she thought things through. Her arms dropped to her side, allowing her index finger to tap out a beat on her thigh. P'rel wasn't telling her everything, obviously, but she was being more forthright than the El-Aurian had expected. She's just as confused. "How can I help?"

P'rel frowned; her frustration becoming her. "I do not know," she answered truthfully, "I am...unaccustomed to seeking assistance..." she found her voice trailing off into confusion. "I also do not know of any abilities you possess which may be of use in this matter," she concluded aloud as her composure returned of its own volition.

Zora let out a laugh that caught even her by surprise. "There's the tone that I love," she said earnestly. "Humility doesn't suit you." If this were any other officer that she was speaking to, Zora would offer up some advice or wisdom working through the problem together. P'rel, on the other hand, was a lone wolf and defensive as hell. She didn't need advice or wisdom, maybe just some encouragement. "I hate to admit it P'rel, but you have great instincts, and they rarely steer you wrong," she said as she looked the Vulcan in the eyes. "Trust them now, do what you think is right for the safety of this mission. Just try not to break any more laws," she added with a grin.

Taken aback somewhat, the Vulcan immediately realised her micro-expressions conveying shock and attempted to cover them with her default stoicism. "It would not be logical to promise that which can not be guaranteed" P'rel responded; it wasn't entirely an attempt at joking with Zora and certainly she was deadly serious. Though, she mused in the brief moment, a little levity was perhaps appropriate given the first officer's seemingly elevated disposition. "...Commander", she finished by adding just the slightest acknowledgement of respect to Zora. Just the slightest, however.

Zora went to open her mouth to say something, thought better of it and closed it again. Instead, she gave the Vulcan a curt nod and moved past her towards the nearest turbolift. P'rel was an enigma wrapped in a Kal-toh puzzle; on one hand, she was the less-than-subtle battering ram causing chaos wherever she happened to be, and on the other, she was an Algoriak swan, subtle and mysterious, one sudden movement and she would flee. From the outside looking in, this was a regular interaction between the two officers, a clash of power creating a discordance. But the first officer thought of it more as a convergence, two minds one day becoming one. It was a slow process, and there would be many pitfalls along the way, but this interaction was a step in the right direction. She stepped into the turbolift feeling lighter than she had in a while.