Monday, January 24, 2011

[USS Charon] SD 241101.24 | Joint Brig Log | Part II | Savant, COP/2XO & Cwm Morganth, Yeoman

"It is not your decision Miss Ignorant, you have no command authority over me, and lastly...well lastly I haven't attempted to kick your ass now have I?" He asked her.

His guest seemed to only raise an eyebrow as he started to speak, but when he ended on a veiled threat, she actually laughed at him. "Heaven forbid. You'll excuse me if I don't feel threatened."

He glared at her, his black eyes in contrast with his hair, "Not a threat Miss Ignorant. It's a fact!"

Savant shifted stratagems. She smiled again, a broad and predatory grin. "Seems like a theory so far. A pretty weak one."

He bit his lip hard enough to draw blood, "Go. To. Hell." he growled through gritted teeth. He hated the fact that he could get nothing off of this thing.

She stood back, arms crossed, looking thoroughly unimpressed. He was reacting pretty much as she had wanted. "Or what? I had considered being nice and sending you to Alpha Centauri, but perhaps a little time in the Vulcan desert will do you good. Make you grow out of the petulant brat that you are now."

His fists balled up without hesitation, "You have no authority over me Miss Ignorant." His temper was on the cusp of boiling out of control, he needed to strike at something and soon.

She provided him no respite, however. "You seem pretty confident of that fact. I wonder how confident you'll be staring out at the baked desert of Vulcan for the next three years. I'll have to send condolences to your family."

Her last comment sent him over the edge, he turned towards the nearest wall and slammed his fist into it, again shattering the bones as well as lacerating his knuckles, "I HAVE NO FAMILY!!" He bellowed at her.

=/\= Medical Supply Room =/\=

"One.. two.. three... four... five. Perfect." Nurse Blake was obsessive-compulsive. Not simply as a fun description for pickiness, but actually, honestly Obsessive Compulsive. With capital letters. He had good reason, really, but at the moment, he was happy. He had just finished stocking the medical carts with their hypodermics and their drugs, and everything was finally in order. Who better than an obsessive-compulsive to mange the medical store room? He smiled, dusted his hands, and turned towards the desk where a doctor was working.

"Finished. I'll be sorting out the cabinet now."

The doctor smiled and stood, turning to inspect the carts - just a routine inspection, as Blake always made sure everything was perfect. He was the best damn storeroom nurse that Charon could ask for.

But, she paused, and turned back to Blake as he opened the storage cabinet. "Uh, Kevin? You're missing one."

He started as if physically struck by the words, turning around, white as a sheet. "M-missing one? That's impossible! I - I counted! Three times! You saw me! Four hundred fifty eight doses of one hundred twelve kinds! I don't miss one! I *never* miss one!"

She smiled sympathetically and reached for the sedative, he would likely be needing it soon. She pointed at the gap where one of the five was missing. "There are only four here, Kevin. Don't worry, happens to the best of us."

He stared at the gap - and if he were allowed, he would be horrified to find other supplies missing as well. Fortunately he didn't - she gently put her hand on his shoulder and guided him from the room - some tea, some sedatives and some time off was just what he needed...

=/\= Brig =/\=

Savant only clucked her tongue disdainfully at his show of violence. "Well, at least you've learned to stop hitting *people*. I wonder if you can finish the equation and figure out how to deal with the root of the problem."

She extended an arm, and the shimmer and hum of a transporter beam dropped a hypospray into her outstretched hand. With neither menace nor kindness, she took a step forward, grasped his uninjured wrist, and pressed the hypospray firmly into his artery. Painkillers, coagulants, and bone setting agents. She'd worry about fixing the serious damage later on.

As he felt her touch him his entire body tensed up, "NO ONE TOUCHES ME!!!" He yelled as he felt the drugs kick in, "I didn't want those. Nor did I ask you for them! Why did you force them on me you to'ba! You have no right to do that!" Andrus was thoroughly pissed off at this thing.

Her tone was even, though the smile was gone. "You will refer to me as Ma'am, or if you prefer, Captain Savant. You seem to mistake this for a civilian job, Mister Morganth. As Second Officer of this ship, it is my responsibility to ensure that all crewmembers are at peak capability, regardless of whether they want to be or not. Quite frankly, Yeoman, you do *not* have a choice. I can cite the specific regulations if you don't wish to take my word for it."

She released his hand, though didn't step away from him. "By all rights you should be on a shuttle for that stockade right now. I'm not sure whether it would be a kindness to do just that, though. Quite, obviously, though, this cannot continue. Can you suggest any way that you might become a functional
member of this crew?"

"No, I will refer to you as Miss Ignorant! You are a machine, holographic and therefore do not have the actual qualification of any type of commissioned rank.  You are an internal threat to this vessel, as you can be easily manipulated. Since you are so precarious you would do well to check my records, and you will see that this isn't the first time I have ended up here for insubordination. The only person who has any authority to transfer me out of this place is the Queen of Hearts! Or those above that veruuls head." He slurred. "Let me do my job and leave me alone, and I assure you that no issues will be had. You and those like you are the issue causing personnel oh Miss Ignorant!" He finished before sitting on the bed due to the dizziness he was feeling, "You drugged me! What in four deities did you give me you dirty photon sorted idiot!"

She was smiling again, amused by his outbursts - or at least appearing so. Savant at this point was busily assembling a model of his personality from the data she had assembled over the past minutes. Once it was complete she would be able to more accurately plot his actions, which was the real point of the visit. She needed to either get him in as a functional unit of the ship or cut him loose.  So far, his odds weren't looking very good.

"Finished?" a pause, and then, "Good. Firstly, I am qualified to be here, being far more robust and resilient than an organic crewmember. The status of my being a life form or software is currently under discussion on Jupiter, and it seems likely that it will continue for some time."

"Secondly, I have no need to check the records. I am the records. I will make it a point to collect more information for your biography, it is rather sparse. All within the limits of the law and
requirements of the fleet, of course."

"Thirdly, I cannot and will not 'leave you alone' to 'do your job.' You have a clear belligerence towards superior officers which you yourself have admitted to. Such as the issue of referring to superior officers by proper titles."

She paused again, looking him over as he drowsed. He was functional, but not particularly well. The drugs were potent painkillers and would disorient him, of course. "Let's do this in a way you're familiar with, from Basic Training. Twenty push ups, please."

He looked at her, "I was treated like dirt for seventeen years. I did not enlist to be treated like dirt for an additional four years." However without hesitation he moved to the ground dizzy or not, with each thrust up pain shot through his arm "One," he responded showing no outwardly sign of discomfort.
He continued this for another nineteen repetitions, "Twenty sir," he ended and remained in the upright position pain coursing through his arm.

As he went through the regimen, which were certainly painful, but ameliorated by the painkillers; Savant spoke evenly, and even with a touch of sympathy. Twelve percent of it was sympathy, in fact, if one wished to know. "I must be blunt, Yeoman. Your inability to accept authority, any authority, is what makes you miserable - I came here to talk and got nothing but attitude from you. I even avoided letting rank get in the way. This is on no one's head but your own."

As he finished, she commented, "At ease", and then turned her head to glance behind her. The exit to the brig was still open.

Crewman Andrus Morganth
Captain's Yeoman (For Now)
U.S.S. Charon