Big Blue Problems

Posted on Saturday, 10 April 2021 - 9:54pm by Captain Barret Stillwater & Lieutenant Talarn Zilth

Mission: Operation: Peace or P'Jem
Location: USS Standing Bear | Deck 01 | Briefing Room

With Commander Soral having spoken with Captain Stillwater, and on his way out to the Bridge, the doorway parted and exposed the corridor where a certain Cardassian was standing, waiting to speak with his Captain and husband. "You're up next, handsome," Stillwater said waving Talarn on in.

The discussion with Soral had been the First Officer outing himself as having his hands in two intel pockets, Starfleet and the Vulcan V'Shar. Knowing his Cardassian husband who still very much had a lot of Borg parts and pieces, Barret raised a brow and looked at his husband. "How much of that did you eaves drop on?"

Talarn stepped into office, his eyes on his husband. He didn’t speak until the door was completely closed behind them. “Enough...” he said softly. “Is that going to have a problem?”

"Nothing you and I cannot handle if we ever need to," he replied to his husband. "It was not much of a surprise to me, but I've lived my life with suspicion as a constant companion. I just don't like that my First Officer kept it from me as long as he did."

“Mm...” It was a noise Talarn made when he wasn’t satisfied. His crystal blue eyes remained fixed on Barrett’s. He didn’t have to say anything else for Barret to know what he was thinking.

Stillwater sighed. "If there comes a point where he cannot be trusted..." There did not need to any further exchange of words. "However, I'd rather it be handled by the book, but worse case scenario, I have a few planets we could conveniently have an accident."

“I understand... but the First Officer was not the reason I wanted to talk to you. I have concerns about the Andorians.”

"I think we all do," Barret replied, not intending to come off as sarcastic as he may have. "I know you are always analyzing. What is it about the Andorians that has you concerned?"

“Combat... Andorians are tough. They have several disciplines that involve hand-to-hand combat. Their bodies are denser than humans... or Vulcans. They’re formidable. I’m not sure this crew is ready for that. I know we all had to learn combat... but how many of them have used it in actual combat?”

"Not many I'd imagine," Stillwater admitted. "The away team I had aboard that luxury star cruiser last year did right, but a few Ferengi with some Nausicaans aren't the same as a boarding party of Andorians."

Stillwater mused for a moment. "Petty Officer Baciami is tough for her size and figure, but she's off the ship on... leave" noted Stillwater, the elongation in his voice was a clear indication she wasn't tanning on Risa. "Soral is capable and your department I'm not concerned about. The others, you have a valid point. Are you thinking hand-to-hand training?"

“I don’t know...” Talarn admitted with a shrug. “You started talking about drills. I started to worry.” He shrugged. “Unless they decide to let us shoot them out in space, but if it comes down to it they’re like Klingons. We will get boarded.”

"Then, I say we prepare for that," replied Stillwater. "Though I won't hesitate to blow their frosty blue asses to bits if they attack any Federation vessel, facility, or planet."

“What’s going on anyway? I know you told me at the meeting, but I want to make sure I understand.” Talarn said seriously. He often asked for a second telling. He wasn’t sure if he asked again because it was his nature or if it was a Borg backup.

Stillwater laid it out for his husband. He knew Talarn would get it from a tactical and logistical lense. "The Andorians haven't been pleased since we tried helping the Romulans, Andoria would not take refugees openly. The Synth attack on Mars was one of the last straws."

"When we lost Utopia Planitia fleet yards, the Federation lost it's mainstay in starship construction. The Andorians have been building starships under our noses unsung resources other than the Federation, and Intelligence feels they are going to attack Vulcan."

Talarn snorted and crossed his arms over his chest. “The Andorians have always been a little... xenophobic. I’m not surprised. It makes me do that things I do... the picture, as you say... what’s next after the Vulcans? What’s their angle?” He shrugs and then looked at Barret. “If they move on Vulcan it’ll be war for us.”

Stillwater had to agree. "You are absolutely correct, Tal. If they attack Vulcan, even if it is just firing upon one ship... they start something. An attack on Vulcan or any Federation world or vessel will be an act of aggression marking the beginning of a war. We will have to respond as such." Captain Stillwater did not like the thought of having to go to war against the Andorians. He had served with several. "I don't know what is next after Vulcan. At this point, I would say their angle is aside to potentially prove a point, and take out their anger of losing Utopia Planitia against one of their ancestral adversaries. Before the Federation was founded, the Andorians and Vulcans were not known for seeing eye-to-eye."

Talarn nodded. “I know... the Federation can’t afford a war though. We’re already bleeding.” He stepped toward Barret, arms still crossed. “We’re not stable. There are too many cracks. The Federation...” He shook his head, not wanting to say what he was feeling, but knowing that Bear wanted to hear it. He took a deep breath and let it out again slowly. “At its core the Federation... is currently rotten.”

"Yes, and it is up to us old guard to hold down the fort, to usher forth a new period of light, restore the Federation and Starfleet's good name." Stillwater looked at Talarn. "We will do whatever we have to. We will be heading into head first and soon. You better get your men ready as best that you can."

“I will do what I can... they’re Starfleet though... not soldiers.” He dropped his arms and put one hand on Barret’s shoulder. “Maybe it won’t even happen, but it looks bad.” He patted Barret’s shoulder. “That speech was nice though. Vomit inducing...” He kissed Barret’s cheek. “Why I love you... Superman,” he teased.

"Thank you, Cyborg," Barret replied. It made him think about his old Earth comic book collection. He wish he had Superman's abilities right now, but Barret always fancied himself more Bruce Wayne than Clark Kent. "Do you want marines? Because if you do, just say the word and I'll have a you reinforced with jarheads."

“Mmm... marines. It might not be a bad idea. A few... if our pocket. Can this ship hold marines? I mean where are we going to put them?” he asked. “I don’t think a few... and I mean a few wouldn’t hurt. They might be able to bring us all up to speed if we get the right ones.”

"We haven't exceeded emergency capacity yet," Barret noted. "It won't be pleasant, but they would only be aboard temporarily. We take part of a cargo bay and set up cots."

“Maybe four... if we can do that. I would feel better... or five. Whatever set they come in.” He dropped his hand. “I guess I go back to work now.” He smirked.

Stillwater nodded. "A squad," he noted. "The ship was designed to hold one squad in emergency situations, ten to fifteen marines. I wasn't planning on having children aboard, but we see how that went. We can probably trim our request down to a smaller squad. I'll let you know how that goes."

“Please... thanks.” He headed toward the door. “Dismissed, Captain?” His words might have been simple, but the tone suggested so much more, so much more... intimate.

Barret looked at his husband and walked him towards the exit, giving the Cardassian a good smack on the ass. "Dismissed, Lieutenant."