The Price of Loyalty - Part 2

Posted on Tue Oct 22nd, 2024 @ 3:14pm by Lieutenant Kaelen Voss
Edited on on Thu Oct 24th, 2024 @ 7:33pm

2,527 words; about a 13 minute read

Mission: Interlude 1 Gamma Quadrant
Location: USS Lenox Hill

[ON]

Continuation from The Price of Loyalty - Part 1.

Commander Liora Sovan, a tall, sharp-featured Vulcan with cold eyes, scanned the scene with thinly veiled disapproval. Behind her, Major Ryland wore a scowl that could melt duranium. The four security guards flanked them, hands resting on their sidearms but not yet drawing them.

The crowd began to break apart, murmuring anxiously. No one wanted to get caught in the fallout of what was clearly about to become a disciplinary nightmare. They shuffled past the officers, heads low, like kids fleeing the scene of a high school brawl.

Kaelen remained in the center of the ring, his breath still heavy, knuckles stinging from the last blow. Radek, on the other hand, was rising slowly—more out of stubbornness than strength. Blood dripped from his split lip onto the deck, his face a mess of swelling bruises. But he looked up at Kaelen with a twisted grin, defiant even in defeat.

“Front and center, both of you,” Commander Sovan ordered, her voice sharp and unforgiving.

Kaelen stood tall, wiping the sweat from his brow. He knew he was in trouble—this wasn’t the Starfleet way, and there’d be a price to pay for it. But he didn’t regret it. Not for a second.

Radek staggered upright, swiping a hand across his mouth to smear the blood away. His eyes flickered to Sovan and then to Major Ryland, but the smug grin remained plastered on his face.

“Explain this.” Sovan’s tone was clipped, like she was already compiling reports in her mind. Her gaze flickered from Kaelen to Radek.

Before Kaelen could speak, Radek chuckled, his voice thick with mockery. “Just a friendly little match, Commander. Right, Voss?”

Kaelen’s jaw tightened, but he said nothing. There was no point in saying anything—the truth wouldn’t help here.

Major Ryland folded his arms, his expression dark. “What I see,” he said slowly, “is two of the crew engaging in unauthorized combat and stirring up a damn spectacle.”

Radek and Voss didn’t say a thing.

Then, Major Ryland’s sharp eyes swept the room—and that’s when he saw him. Brill, standing near the far wall, almost cowering in the shadows, as if hoping he could melt into the background. The young ensign looked like a cornered animal—shoulders hunched, arms folded tightly over his chest, his eyes wide with guilt and anxiety.

Ryland’s scowl deepened. The rumors he’d been hearing about Radek’s bullying hadn’t gone unnoticed, and now everything was starting to make sense. He glanced at Brill, then back at Radek, the pieces clicking together.

Sovan’s cold gaze followed Ryland’s, landing on Brill. “Ensign,” she said, her tone precise and controlled, “do you have anything to add?”

Brill froze, visibly torn between fear and duty. Most of the people left in the room turned to him, waiting for an answer. His gaze flickered between Kaelen and Radek, his throat working as if the words were stuck. Finally, after a long, heavy pause, he took a deep breath and stepped forward, his voice barely above a whisper.

”Radek’s been… targeting me. He’s been shoving me around, humiliating me in front of the others.” Brill’s voice wavered slightly, but he pressed on. “I didn’t say anything because I thought it would make things worse. But Lieutenant Voss—he… he stood up for me.”

The crowd had thinned by now, most of them having slipped out quietly, but the few stragglers left exchanged glances—some with admiration, others with concern. Radek’s smirk faltered slightly, but he rolled his shoulders, attempting to look unaffected.

Commander Sovan regarded Brill with a cool, assessing gaze. “Thank you, Ensign,” she said with a slight nod. “You are dismissed.”

The young ensign turned and slipped out of the cargo bay, his shoulders a little straighter than they had been when he entered.

Sovan turned her attention back to Radek, her expression as unreadable as ever. “Captain Radek, bullying and harassment have no place on this ship.”

Major Ryland, still standing with his arms crossed, gave a low growl. “You’re a Marine. You’re supposed to protect, not intimidate.”

Radek opened his mouth to protest, but Ryland silenced him with a glare sharp enough to cut through bulkheads.

“Radek, you’re confined to quarters until further notice,” Ryland barked. “I’ll decide your punishment once I’ve finished reviewing the reports. And trust me—it won’t be pretty.”

Radek’s jaw twitched, but he knew better than to argue. With a stiff nod, he turned to the security guards, who stepped forward to escort him out of the cargo bay. He shot Kaelen one last glare before disappearing down the corridor, his bruised pride as evident as the swelling on his face.

With Radek gone, Commander Sovan turned to Kaelen.

“Lieutenant Voss,” she said, “your loyalty to your team is commendable. Your method, however, is not.”

Kaelen knew better than to argue. He stood at attention, knowing what was coming next.

“You will receive an official reprimand,” Sovan continued. “Violence in this way is not how we solve problems on this ship.”

Kaelen gave a curt nod. “Understood, Commander.”

She held his gaze for a moment longer, as if weighing his intentions against protocol. Then, with a slight nod, she turned on her heel. “Escort Lieutenant Voss to the brig until further notice,” she instructed the remaining security guards.

Kaelen headed for the door. The security guards followed.

Jax was waiting just outside the cargo bay, leaning casually against the wall with his arms crossed. As Kaelen passed, Jax gave him a sly grin.

“You’re a damn fool, Voss,” Jax said, falling into step next to him as he and the security guards made their way toward the brig.

“Yeah,” Kaelen muttered, rubbing his sore ribs. “But I’m a fool with principles.”

Jax chuckled, clapping Kaelen on the back. “Don’t worry. I’ll cover for you while you’re cooling your heels in the brig.”

Kaelen smirked. “Appreciate it.”

Kaelen entered the turbo lift down the call. The two security guards flanked both sides as the doors hissed closed

12 Hours Later.

The brig was cold and quiet, the hum of the ship’s systems was the only sound in the background. Kaelen sat on the narrow cot, stretching out his legs and rolling his sore shoulder. It wasn’t the first time he’d taken a hit for someone else, and it probably wouldn’t be the last.

As he leaned back against the wall, he allowed himself a rare moment of satisfaction. Brill was safe, and Radek had been dealt with—at least for now. Kaelen knew it wouldn’t end Radek’s antics entirely, but it sent a message to everyone else on the lower decks and he had no regrets.

He sat quietly. His thoughts drifted to the future. He knew the reprimand would stick to his record—a blemish that might slow down his career. But that was a price he was willing to pay. If looking out for his team meant bending the rules from time to time, so be it.

The doors to the brig hissed open. Commander Sovan entered and dismissed the guard by the door. Sovan approached the invisible force field, her hands clasped neatly behind her back.

“Time is up, Lieutenant,” she said evenly as she tapped some buttons. The force field deenergized.

Kaelen rose from the cot, rolling his stiff shoulders as he approached.

“Thank you, Commander,” he said, his voice steady.

“By the way, your transfer request to the U.S.S. Firebird has been approved.”

Kaelen’s brow lifted slightly in surprise, though he kept his expression controlled. “I didn’t expect it to go through that fast.”

“You leave tomorrow,” Sovan said, her voice calm and even, as if they were discussing routine shipboard maintenance.

“Thank you, Commander,” Kaelen said with a small nod. “I appreciate you letting me know.”

Sovan didn’t immediately respond. She studied him with that familiar Vulcan precision, her gaze unwavering. “I am curious, Lieutenant. You are a capable officer, well-regarded by your peers and respected by your subordinates. Why seek a transfer?”

Kaelen exhaled slowly, choosing his words carefully. “It’s not the work,” he said after a moment. “I’ve loved my time here. But it’s time for a new challenge. Something different.”

Sovan raised a single eyebrow, the Vulcan equivalent of intrigue. “The Firebird is a fast-response vessel. Tactical missions. High risk.”

Kaelen shrugged, a hint of a grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. “I’ve always worked well under pressure.”

Sovan inclined her head slightly, acknowledging his point. “Indeed. However,” she continued, her tone softening just slightly, “It is worth considering that you leave behind more than just your post. Your crew looks up to you, Lieutenant. They will feel your absence.”

Kaelen looked down for a moment, the weight of her words settling over him. “I know,” he said quietly. “That’s the hardest part.”

Sovan allowed a brief silence to pass before she spoke again. “What you did for Ensign Brill,” she said, “was commendable. You demonstrate a level of loyalty to your team that is… rare.”

Kaelen gave a small nod, sensing the underlying compliment hidden beneath her Vulcan demeanor. “Sometimes rules don’t cover every situation. Sometimes the rules only delay the inevitable. Meeting a threat head on is sometimes the fast and easier way to solve it.”

Sovan’s gaze sharpened slightly. “True but rules do exist for a reason.”

Kaelen crossed his arms, not confrontational, but thoughtful. “Maybe. But I couldn’t stand by while one of my own got pushed around. I made the decision I made, and I accept the punishment freely with no regrets.”

Sovan regarded him with a measured gaze. “And that, Lieutenant, is why you will do well on the Firebird. But, please, do your best to follow the rules.”

Kaelen raised an eyebrow. “Is that your way of saying good luck, Commander?”

A flicker of something—amusement, perhaps—passed through Sovan’s eyes. “I do not rely on luck, Lieutenant. However, I do offer you this—continue to apply the same loyalty and dedication on the Firebird, and you will excel.”

Kaelen smiled, small but genuine. “Thank you, Commander. I’ll try not to disappoint.”

Sovan gave him a slight nod. “You never have, Lieutenant Voss.”

For a moment, there was nothing but the soft hum of the brig’s systems between them. Then, with a final glance and nod Kaelen left the room. The door hissed open and he disappeared.

The brig was now still and quiet. She took a moment to look around then turned to the panel on the wall and pressed it. The lights dimmed as the room reduced power usage.

As Commander Sovan exited the brig, Major Ryland waiting just outside, arms folded across his broad chest. He leaned casually against the wall, his sharp gaze following her as the door closed behind her. The hum of the corridor was the only sound between them for a long moment.

“I have to say,” Ryland drawled, tilting his head slightly, “Voss reminds me of someone.”

Sovan raised a single eyebrow, the barest hint of curiosity crossing her Vulcan features. “Oh? And who would that be, Major?”

“You.” Ryland smirked, clearly enjoying the moment. “Back at the Academy. You did exactly what he just did.”

Sovan’s gaze remained steady, though something flickered in her eyes—a fragment of memory she preferred to leave untouched. “You are mistaken. My situation was different.”

Ryland gave a low chuckle, standing up straight and folding his arms behind his back. “Yeah? Funny how I remember it differently. You went toe-to-toe with some hotshot cadet who thought it was funny to bully another student. Decked him right in front of half the classroom if I recall correctly.” He grinned. “You even dislocated his shoulder. They called you ‘The Logic Fist’ for a whole semester.”

Sovan’s expression didn’t shift, but she clasped her hands behind her back—a subtle sign she wasn’t as unaffected as she appeared. “The matter was handled appropriately afterward, in accordance with regulations.”

Ryland gave her a knowing look. “Oh, sure. Afterward. But you still threw the punch first, didn’t you?”

Sovan’s gaze narrowed slightly, though her voice remained cool and even. “What I did was a lapse in judgment. One I have ensured was not repeated.”

Ryland grinned. “Maybe. But don’t pretend it wasn’t satisfying.”

Sovan remained silent for a moment, as if calculating the worth of engaging further. Finally, she allowed herself the smallest of nods. “There may have been… a sense of resolution.”

Ryland let out a short laugh, clearly pleased. “See? I knew there was a bit of fire under all that logic.”

Sovan adjusted her stance, redirecting the conversation. “Lieutenant Voss demonstrated loyalty and initiative, qualities essential to leadership—though his methods require refinement.”

Ryland gave a small shrug. “He’ll fit right in on the Firebird. They like officers who think on their feet—and aren’t afraid to punch above their weight.”

Sovan tilted her head, as if in agreement. “That is my expectation.”

Ryland’s smirk softened into something closer to admiration. “You respect him, don’t you? For doing what you did.”

Sovan gave him a level look, her expression once again composed. “I respect that he acted to protect a crewmate. That is what matters.” She paused for a moment, then added, “But respect does not excuse action outside the boundaries of protocol.”

Ryland chuckled. “Yeah, well, sometimes the regs don’t cover everything.” He leaned closer, dropping his voice. “You know as well as I do—sometimes you’ve gotta bend the rules to get things done.”

Sovan’s gaze didn’t waver. “And sometimes, Major, bending the rules leads to unnecessary consequences.”

Ryland smirked, knowing full well there was no winning an argument with a Vulcan. He straightened up again, his grin lingering. “Well, I’ll say this much: Voss will be just fine. He’s got good instincts.”

Sovan gave a slight nod. “Indeed. And perhaps…” She allowed herself a brief, thoughtful pause. “He will learn when to act within protocol—and when to trust his instincts.”

Ryland crossed his arms again, looking amused. “Like you did, huh?”

Sovan raised an eyebrow but chose not to respond directly. Instead, she turned to leave, her posture as measured and precise as ever.

As she walked away, Ryland called after her with a grin, “Hey, Sovan—‘The Logic Fist’ still has a nice ring to it.”

Without missing a beat, Sovan replied, “I would advise you not to test the theory, Major.”

Ryland’s laughter echoed down the corridor as Sovan disappeared around the corner, her expression neutral—but perhaps just a little more satisfied than usual.

[OFF]

Lieutenant Kaelen Voss
Damage Control Specialist
USS Firebird NCC-88298

 

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