Insecurity

Posted on Thu Jan 11th, 2018 @ 11:02am by Commander Christopher Samuels MDiv, PhD

Mission: S01E02 D-8 With the Devil
Location: USS Musashi | Roosevelt Lounge

Crewmen Mulholland was not the social butterfly that his siblings were. He was a young man with a modest appearance, hair longer than typical for old earth regulations, but nobody this day and age in Starfleet gave hair length much thought. I mean the Chief Communications Officer was a walking talking vibes all house cat when it came to basics. He admired the Lieutenant more these days than he had initially. After the recent boarding mission on the transit facility, things were changing for the awkward crewmen whom people described as ‘sour faced’ and ‘cold’ among other things.

Orsen was rattled a bit as he sat in a far corner table, alone. He was brooding in his alone time, contemplating his life and the choices he had made. Security was the department he fell into when he enlisted in Starfleet, but he was uncertain. This uncertainty had grown in the past few days and the Musashi was not due to dock at a starbase or station for shore leave for another few weeks at the very least. The Crewmen let out a sigh, his elbows on the table propped up to support his head, but soon all of it just gave out and like a child bored and stressed in the middle of class his head was down and his arms a pillow.

Christopher Samuels had entered the Roosevelt Lounge for a much needed break, and a much needed drink. The break was to clear his head, and the drink was to numb his pain. He found himself drinking more and more these days, he was well aware of it, but yet did nothing to really stop himself. He ordered up his drink and turned to look around the lounge. There were a few people who populated the various tables, but one particular one caught his eye. He approached the table. "Tired or drunk?" he asked the man who had his head buried in his folded arms.

The young man's head popped up at the sound of the man's voice. He recognized it instantly and nearly fell over when he saw the man was right there talking to him of all people. "Commander" said Orsen, nearly shooting to his feet to stand up and salute the man. But he remained seated and gave the man 100% of his focus. "I do not know, Sir. Maybe a little tired. I am not drunk. I haven't had a drop" he replied reassuringly. "I guess I am just kind of shaken by the mission I just got back from...all those bodies. I was not expecting it to be anything except an old station with faulty communications systems" he added with a sigh.

Christopher listened, nodded, and refrained from taking a drink from his tumbler. He reached for the top of the chair and pulled it out and slid into it. He knew that he probably wouldn't have been as 'shocked' to see bodies, but he had experience behind in that regard. That young man who sat across from him did not have that benefit as of yet. "I know these situations can be tough," Christopher began, he set his glass down on the table, "would you like to talk about it?" He wasn't entirely sure if talking about it would help, but he was always a willing listener to anyone who needed to unload.

Orsen looked at the First Officer and grumbled something about it not being important, but he also felt as though the Commander was not about to walk away from him. Orsen did not know Commander Samuels well. He barely knew him at all. However, reputation preceeded the Commander and reputation had it that Samuels took a great care in not only the readiness of the crew, but their wellness as well. "It wasn't supposed to be like that. We were sent over to the transit station just as good will...fix their communications systems and such. We thought that was all that was wrong. I wasn't ready for what we found over there."

Orsen was young, Christopher had vaguely remembered the young man's personnel file because of Orsen's age. To his knowledge, Orsen was the youngest person serving on the ship. "I understand," Christopher said, his voice truly conveying his understanding. "One thing you will learn as you go on more and more away missions is that things are not always what you expect." He knew what was found over there was definitely unexpected, in fact when he saw the report he was shocked, yet once again, training and experience kicked in and he had composed himself.

"Does it get any easier?" asked the crewmen nervously. His voice was rather shakey. "Seeing..." he could not really say the words he wanted. Was corpses right? Dead bodies did not seem right either. "We just found them scattered about...lifeless. It's like they had no idea it was coming" he added as he starred at his glass. "I knew to expect the unexpected when I joined Starfleet, but I wasn't prepared for what I saw. I wear this uniform and it makes no different what style the Captain chooses...I'm still Security. They call us 'redshirts' you know? It's like we have no names...just background faces. You touch the wrong alien rock or rub against the wrong plant on a strange planet and it's all over."

The 'redshirts' moniker had bothered Christopher. Maybe it's because he hated labels, or maybe more to the point that he had seen a lot of death over the course of his career. This was why he didn't talk the war, because it lead to discussing Starfleet losses, and personal loss, and what he lost. "Do these types of things get easier, yes, but dealing with death should never get easier and if it does than you need to rethink a few things. I hope to God that what you all witnessed over there it something you never have to witness again." He brought his glass to his lips and took a long draw from the amber liquid, downing half the drink in one gulp. "I know of the 'redshirts' nickname that security personnel has gotten over the years, and it is one I am not fond of. It will not be a term used on this ship, I can guarantee you that."

Orsen smiled a little just hearing the reassuring response of the First Officer. "I just do not want to be one of those people who get assigned to landing party and some stupid plant creature snatches me with its vines and drags me underneath the soil...and oh I don't know...I just want to be a good officer" he said with a sigh. "Do you think it would be better if I transferred out of Security?"

Christopher finished off his drink as the young man spoke. Plant creature? Being dragged under the soil? Where do these kids come up with these things? he thought, a bit amused by the image. "I think it's very admirable that you want to be a good officer. But do you think being in security will make you a good officer? Do you only want to move out of security because you are worried about a plant creature snatching you up? Or more importantly, why did you choose security?"

Weighing what the Commander was saying, Orden thought for a moment. “I do not know” he admitted. “I don’t want my career to be hindered by anything. I just don’t know if Security was the right placement for me. I much rather be tinkering with things than being shot at or attacked by a creature.”

Again, Christopher was amused by what he was hearing. Was it too many science fiction novels, or movies? "Well, I can tell you from experience, you are going to get shot it. It happens, sometimes it's on purpose, sometimes it's a misunderstanding, but it does happen. Just like our little ship will get shot at, you just hope and pray you come out of it alive I suppose." He wasn't one to sugar coat or give false hope. Christopher Samuels was a forthright man, he felt those who skirted around the truth did more harm than good. "However, being in a different department does lessen your chances of getting shot at," he said, "and if you rather be tinkering with things, maybe I can see if there is a spot for you on one of the engineering teams?"

"I will think about Engineering, Commander" replied the young man. He let the Commanders words settle in. Orsen winced a bit hearing the adjective 'little' applied to a description of the USS Musashi, and he was not quite sure why he had that reaction. Maybe I should be in Engineering. That stung a bit he thought shaking his head. He looked at the Commander. "I understand that it is not realistic to have the false belief that we are unsinkable. We could be destroyed by the Klingons, by the Romulans, or just by dumb luck coming across a special anomaly that we fail to understand....no offense" he said the man. "We are a small ship, but we are well armed and maneuverable. I think we are also quite fortunate to have both Captain Figueroa and yourself, Sir. Everyone says that the experience the two of you have will get us through anything out their on the final frontier."

Christopher almost almost felt like his ass was being kissed, but he held back the groan and the eye roll. The response he received was a typical one who was just up-and-coming in the Fleet. "Thank you for your confidence in both of us, but the captain and I are certainly fallible. Her and I are new as a command team as well, there might be friction in that... but one thing her and I can agree on is that we will always do what is best for all of you and the Musashi. We want to be able to give you opportunities, but you have to be able to want those opportunities and seek them out. I want you to give some serious thought to where you want your career to take you, and I want you to give some serious thought on what it truly means to be in Starfleet. Once you do, come see me, and then I can see what I can do as far as placement."

To say Orsen was a bit star struck was an understatement. No matter how small a starship was, it was an honor and surprise to be spoken to and acknowledged by the First Officer. The Captain would have been glorious, but the Commander was just as appealing to a young crewmen. Heck even the Second Officer would have felt good. “Yes Sir. Of course Sir. I will really give it some serious thought and talk to you about it when I’ve given it serious thought, Commander. Thank you for talking with me.” Orsen watched as the man walked away. I cannot believe he stopped to talk to me thought the starstruck crewmen.