The Truth Won’t Set You Free [Back Post]

Posted on Thu Jan 5th, 2023 @ 12:41am by Fleet Captain Maxwell Culver & Lieutenant JG Evelyn Stewart
Edited on on Thu Jan 5th, 2023 @ 1:22pm

1,414 words; about a 7 minute read

Mission: Mission One: Goodwill Tour [Part One]
Location: Deck 5: The Sand Bar
Timeline: MD4: 2300 hrs

The bar was empty, the main lights off with only the soft ambient lights along the large glass display of the passing sea life illuminating the room. Sitting in one of the comfortable leather chairs, Lieutenant Stewart had her feet up on the coffee table in front of her as she gazed out the window without really looking through it. She took another long sip from her fourth glass of whatever alcohol the replicator provided her and was preparing to order another, but her mind was elsewhere ruminating and she was slow to get to her feet.

She had to be on duty in about eight hours, but that fact did nothing to deter her. She bitterly reminded herself she had nothing to do at her post as it was. It didn’t matter if she was hungover or not.

Max was having trouble sleeping with his newfound El Aurian abilities. The doctor, along with Vianola, were helping him to get them under control, but in sleep, the feelings and colors could overwhelm him.

“Coffee, decaf,” he ordered. He had been trying to find a candy store that several of his crew had mentioned casually. It always seemed to be on a different deck or section of the base. Max was starting think it was a prank being played against him.

The windows below deck were only black, but he noticed Evelyn Stewart sitting in the poor lighting. “Trouble sleeping?” he asked quietly.

Evelyn thought it was her imagination when she heard the doors open behind. It was only when she heard the order for coffee at the replicator that she turned and saw the captain. She considered his question far long than she should have needed to. “I suppose so. It’s hard to fall asleep when there is so much excitement going on each day.”, she said sarcastically before finishing her glass and getting to her feet.

Stewart hardly glanced at Culver when she ordered another alcoholic beverage. She didn’t care what the replicator provided as a random selection. If the captain could tell she was drunk, she didn’t mind as she went back to lounging in her chair, watching the lines the water.

Max tutted. “Lieutenant, I realize that this must be frustrating for you. You’re a pilot with little piloting to do. Let’s be honest, there isn’t a lot of piloting to do for the seabase. It follows the ocean currents and requires very little intervention.

“There’s plenty more to do, Lieutenant. You can engage in piloting for the meteorology department, tracking current changes and upcoming storms.

“Apart from that, we have the smaller submarines, which could be taken out for deeper water studies. They are small and quick but harder to pilot, I’m told, due to the deep water currents.

“What I’m saying is that you can brood here at night, drinking alcohol and coming to work hung over, or you can come to work and look for more interesting things to do than sit behind a console and grit your teeth all day.”

Evelyn sighed in annoyance. She didn’t need or want a lecture. She took a long sip of whatever the replicator gave her, tasting the bite. “So my options are to chauffeur a bunch of scientists, or get drunk every night.”, she made an act as if she was considering it. “I think I’ll stick with the latter if it’s all the same to you, Captain.” Her tone surly as it was disrespectful.

Stewart was toeing the line, but she knew regulations. What could Culver actually do to her? She wasn’t on duty, she wasn’t putting herself or the ship in danger, she was arriving on time to her post every morning, all be it hungover.

“Typically people ask for permission to speak freely, Lieutenant, but with your history…well, let’s just say I expect to be treated with behavior just short of insubordination. We both know you know how to play the system.

“Look, you’ve made it a point to reach the pinnacle of your career as the pilot of a base that can basically pilot itself. You’ve elected to be hungover and sloppy at your other duty stations and you’ve been passed down the line again and again.

“Your next stop will be Starbase 80. She’s going on her centennial year of operation. They work with equipment that’s older than most of the officers on this base and there certainly won’t be anyone who cares if you show up to your shift at all. The reason? Because nothing there matters anymore. It’s the last stop for Starfleet’s hidden gems, the worst of the worst.

“Just say the word and you can be there. Where nothing matters anymore…” Max suggested gently.

Evelyn looked up at Max from her chair, going so far as to lean back and recline to a slightly more comfortable position, arm with her drink stretched over the back of the leather. She considered his not-so-thinly veiled threat. “And here I was thinking we could be friends, Max.” She said with a melancholy in her tone that was hard to pin point if it was genuine or mocking.

Stewart shook her head at the man, as if she was disappointed in herself. She took another long drink, downing nearly a third of the glass, before she stood up. “You want to play this by the books, fine. But you remember I kept my word and broke regulations on the bridge and lied for you,” she said pointedly about when Max was poisoned and she kept quiet. “Don’t expect that again.”

Max settled his rear end on the sidearm one of the white leather chairs, finding it rather uncomfortable. “You did what I ordered you to do, Lieutenant. Let’s not pretend you’re doing me favors here.”

Max paused as he drank his hot, black, decaffeinated coffee. “As for expectations, your own words have me lowering them with every shift. If I had a minimal understanding of why, I might just let it slide. Starfleet Command assigned you here. You’ve ruined your chance with counseling. This. Is. The. End. Of. The. Line.

“The way I see it, you have three options. Pull it together. Continue being the ship’s drunk until you’ve lost favor with the entire crew. Or, resign and go do whatever you want to do. You don’t seem like you need Starfleet.

“And trust me, by the reports I’ve read, they’ve about had it with you.”

Evelyn set her jaw as her pride bristled. She narrowed her eyes at the Captain. “What exactly is that supposed to mean?” She asked, struggling to hold back her temper.

Evelyn had made her share of enemies at Headquarters, she wouldn’t deny that, in truth she should have probably been a lieutenant commander by now based on her skills alone. But her history since leaving the Academy to go the Epsilon III was impeccable.

She was given a bad hand to start with coming into the Academy, made bad choices, but she was a competent officer.

Max sipped his coffee. “It’s as I said, Lieutenant. This is the end of the line.” Max sighed. “Just get your shit together, Stewart. You see, I’m fun outside of work, but when my shift is due, the captain takes over. The professional takes over - barring being poisoned.

“Try and take that page out of my book, huh? Leave the fun and drinking for off the boat, please.”

Evelyn took in what Max said. It didn’t make it any less insulting. She could feel her muscles ache from the tight flexing of them throughout her body to hold herself into check. She glared up at the El-Aurian. “Permission to be excused, Sir?”, she asked coldly as she ignored his request. She was eager to get out of the bar before she said or did something she would actually regret.

“No need, Lieutenant. You were here first.” Max walked toward the exit, deposited his coffee to be recycled. He stepped out of the small bar and moved out of range of the glass doors before shaking his head.

Somehow, he felt like this was going to be the first of many conversations like this with Evelyn Stewart. He already had a headache.

 

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