Reporting In

Posted on Wed Apr 1, 2020 @ 10:59pm by Lieutenant JG Sydney Friedman Jr & Fleet Captain Rhea Kennit

971 words; about a 5 minute read

Mission: Nibiru
Location: Captain's Ready Room
Timeline: Some time after the return from the planet

Since returning to the ship, the Captain had spent a good deal of her time studying the images of what she believed were star maps which had been carved into the stone panel walls of the pyramid complex, and long range sensor data of the Delta Quadrant. It was a lot of information to go through, especially as these panels were hundreds of thousands of years old. They had to survey the current data, and then track those stars and systems back through the millennia searching for a match.

She had a second query running as well. A comparison of the data collected from the planet below, and information stored within the cortical network within her body. Her implants, the systems within her which made her.. unique among the Borg had been developed from this same technology, found and assimilated by the Borg nearly 56 years ago. The Borg had been unable to identify the species responsible for the highly advanced technology responsible for the seeding and study of so many life forms throughout the galaxy. Whoever they’d been, to all available data ‘they’ had departed from the Milky Way eons past.

For Rhea, this wasn’t just scientific curiosity driving her search. It was quite personal indeed.

The chime to the ready room door sounded, and she responded without looking up. “Enter!”

The doors opened and Sydney stepped in, hands behind her back and a smile on her face. "Hello, Captain, I'm Doctor Friedman. I'm here to serve as your new ship's counselor."

Looking up from her console, the Captain said, “Welcome aboard, Doctor. Who did you piss off that they sent you out here to me?”

Sydney's eyebrows went up a bit. "I'm...not sure. No one I can think of offhand. I was told there was a position open, and this is where I was needed, so here I am." She smiled and shrugged.

Fleet Captain Kennit stood. Standing a mere 5’6” in height, despite her diminutive stature Kennit owned the space she occupied. Stepping out from behind the desk with the sinuous grace of a feline predator, she said “I assume you have a copy of your orders and authorization transferring you to the Victory. I would hate to be forced to take action against an unauthorized person. These carpets are new, my Chief Engineer would give me considerable grief if they were to be soiled and require cleaning so soon.”

Sydney paled and leaned backwards involuntarily, but willed herself not to step back. "I...well I um," she cleared her throat. "I would assume the Saint George transmitted my transfer orders when they were within range....Ma'am."

The Captain cocked her head slightly to one side, looked at the new Counselor for a moment and then let out a non-committal grunt as she turned to the console on her desk and access the computer. “Computer. Access duty assignment records and personnel orders for Lt. JG Sydney Friedman.”

Kennit spent a long moment studying the information displayed then turned and fixed the Counselor with an unreadable look in her eyes. “Not a lot of information here ...”

"I'm only twenty-five, Ma'am," Sydney said. "There isn't much to say, yet."

“Twenty five... you must just be out of medical school.” Kennit said.

"I was in a dual-program," Sydney said. "So I've had a little time on a couch already. But this is my first deep-space assignment, yes."

The Captain shook her head. “The situations into which this ship and crew become embroiled are.. unusually stressful. I hope you’re up for the challenge.”

"I hope I am as well," Sydney said. "I mean....it's not like everyone on board has escaped from an institution, right?" she chuckled a bit, in an attempt to diffuse the situation, but it quickly died under the Captain's stare. She cleared her throat. "So, um...how much stress have you been under recently?"

The Captain almost smirked. “I do not experience stress. I cause it.”

"I see," Sydney said. "So the situations are stressful for everyone, but you. That must be a relief."

“A relief. That’s one way to describe it I would suppose.” Kennit replied.

"What would be the other?" Sydney said, casually.

The Captain shrugged, looking down at something on her desk for a moment before she spoke. “I suppose that one could describe it as an interaction between the hypothalamic-pituitary-adrenal axis, the amygdala, and the neural processors within our prefrontal cortex.” She said, her voice deepening slightly. When the Captain looked up at the new Counselor, her dark eyes were very nearly black. “Stress is merely the response of hormones and chemicals designed to aid in helping to deal with a perceived threat. Easily controlled with appropriate counter measures allowing the mind to remain focused and calm when necessary.”

Sydney swallowed hard, an involuntary shiver running down her spine. "Yes...true...how-however, stress can also help sharpen one's focus, and heighten one's awareness. Sometimes too much control can be a detriment."

The Captain shook her head, “I have not found that to be the case.”

"Well," Sydney said. "I'm glad you have so much control over yourself." She clasped her hands together for lack of use of them and tried to smile. "So, Captain, if there's anything you need, please feel free to drop by my office." She stood up quickly. "Of course, first I should go find my office. If you'll excuse me?"

The Captain smiled at that, somewhat impressed by the Counselor’s reaction to her - hazing of the new arrival. “It’s a big ship. If you get lost find an access portal on the bulkhead and request directions. The computer will guide you.”

"Yes, Ma'am. I will. Thank you, Captain, and nice meeting you." She quickly turned and hurried out of the ready room.

 

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