A Surprise Meeting

Posted on Saturday August 10th, 2019 @ 2:46am by Commodore Gregory Paladin & Lieutenant Commander Freya Mannerheim & Lieutenant JG Sydney Allen

1,846 words; about a 9 minute read

Mission: Getting to know the XO
Location: USS Poseidon; Officer's Lounge, Deck 3
Timeline: Pre-Poseidon Launch; Drydock

Commodore Gregory Paladin had been the first person to board the Poseidon. It was against tradition, naturally, but considering he and his family legacy were deeply tied to the ship, no one at Starfleet Command or the Drydock crew seemed to mind. It was intended to be a surprise visit, but the Commodore had been considering a more permanent visitation beyond what he had committed himself to; the trial run of the ship was something he had obligated himself to, then he would have been off. Seeing the old girl again, however, gave him second thoughts.

For the interim, he was simply a Mission Advisor and acting Chef for the Officer's Mess. Presently he was laying out a meal for himself that he had personally cooked. Real food had been stocked on this old girl, since she still had the storage facilities for it, and Gregory loved cooking. There had been intentionally left a bit extra of the stew he had concocted just in case the new arrivals wanted some, but considering they'd likely be acquainting themselves he didn't want to assume.

As he sat, the Commodore enjoyed the scent of his stew. He carefully took a few bites, looking out to the Officer's Lounge and the small pond to the left of it, along with the view upward of outer space. The Poseidon was from an era long past, of conveniences mixed with utilitarian means. It was right that she was under the command of Franklin. That boy would take her places, farther than Gregory could ever have managed.

His thoughts were broken as he looked up to a new arrival, an Ensign by the pips. He gave a slight smile, and nodded to her.

"Ensign," he greeted. His voice formal, stern.

"Sir, Can I sit?" the Ensign asked

He raised his eyebrow, then nodded. "Plenty of seating, Ensign. There's some leftover stew in the Officer's Mess, my treat. Actual food. Get yourself some."

With another smile, he went back to eating, admiring the scenery. His raven-black hair seemed to glean with the overheat lighting, a casual and gentle reflection. A stern expression seemed to hide the occasional smirk and soft smile, which would turn back to a stoic expression regardless of where he would gaze.

"Sir, before I go to grab some food, I would like to ask you a quick question?" Sydney nervously asked as she took a seat.

The Commodore glanced up, gently placing his spoon down and, all at once, changing posture and demeanour as he wiped his mouth with a napkin and sat straight up. The standoffish posture was gone, replaced by an open and inviting professional officer. His eyes, when looking at the Ensign, betrayed nothing other than a professional interest and complete attention paid to Sydney.

"Of course, Ensign. How can I help you today?"

Sydney leaned forward and whispered sternly.

"Sir, why the hell did you request me to join this crew. I know the mission but why me?"

Freya frowned to herself as she secretly listened to the conversation in the next booth. Neither of the two other officers had seen her come in and sit in the booth next to them with a coffee, and that was probably for the better. As a language specialist, she was especially skilled at picking up nuance - and she noticed immediately that Sydney appeared to be hiding something. Sure, eavesdropping on one's comrades was not something one should do, but considering her own situation, she decided that she could always need some more information. She took a sip from her coffee and leaned back, hoping to hear the conversation more clearly.

Gregory seemed to take in Sydney, judging her as his eyes scanned her over. Something about him took her in with a new light, perhaps not for the better. He didn't show it immediately. His voice, however, would definitely have a hint of it.

"I realize that taking a student out of their classes two years into the course is not traditional," the Commodore began with a gentle tone, full of patience. "There are times, however, when a member of Starfleet witnesses an up and coming cadet and wants them on their ship. Also, you had a very high recommendation from a Vice Admiral. Roddenton, I believe? Ring a bell?"

Sydney sat back and had to think about that name for a little bit, then all of a sudden the name brought memories about youth. When she was a 15 tall man with short black hair approached her, introducing himself as George Roddenton and a Starfleet Officer.

"Sir, I do indeed when I was in school he approached me with an offer to join Starfleet, which I took up and unfortunately I can't go into anymore details until I get permission from him to brief you fully." Sydney said with a serious face on.

"I see," Gregory said, eyebrow raising. He'd bring this up to the Vice Admiral later. Then, with a shrug, he remarked, "orders are orders."

Looking at his slowly cooling stew, he gazed back up at the Ensign. "Is there anything else? I don't mean to be rude but I'd like to finish my meal. As I said, you're more than welcome to grab a bowl in the Officer's Mess."

"I will be going now but I don't know if you have met the the new Conns officer Freya just over there." Sydney is pointing to where Freya is sitting and gesturing her over.

Sydney walks away from the table.

Gregory watched as Sydney walked away, sighed, then concentrated on his stew. He began to eat again as he ignored Freya's presence for the moment.

Freya nodded a greeting at Sydney as her bunkmate brushed past. What had that been all about? "Seems I am not the only one here with a secret," she thought to herself as she got up to get another cup of coffee. On the way to the replicator, she decided to shoot a glance at the Commodore, who was focussing on his food and did not seem to notice her. She got the impression of a seasoned veteran, who seemed to be slightly wary of secrets around him. What had stuck with her most, however, was the apparent disregard that Sydney held for any form of hierarchy - Freya hoped that that would not come back to haunt her eventually. Her coffee finally refilled, she sat down at her lone table again, pulling out a PADD with the specifications of the ship's navigation systems and began to read.

"Lieutenant, Junior Grade, Freya Svanirsdottir," said aloud the Commodore who somehow pronounced the foreign-sounding last name perfectly, "or should I properly greet you as Freya, as per your cultural traditions?"

As he spoke, he continued eating, not facing her. This stew was apparently good enough to ignore basic etiquette, that or he simply didn't care at the moment.

Freya put down the PADD and turned to the Commodore. "Well, sir, as you know, the Patronymic is only used in extremely formal circumstances, or to differentiate between two people of the same name. I don't see either being the case. You must be Commodore Paladin? I have read about your rather impressive career. What brings you to the Poseidon, sir?"

Slowly he brought the final spoonful of stew into his mouth, slurping politely as swallowing after a chew. He brought a napkin up to his lips afterward, lifting his dishes and taking them to dirty dish area - he'd get back to cleaning that later. Turning, he faced the Lieutenant, nodding at her.

"Duly noted," he responded to her prior quip, then answered, "I am here as a mission advisor. As one of the most experienced commanders who have captained the Poseidon still living, my place is here, temporarily."

Freya slowly nodded. "I see. It is an honour to meet a veteran such as yourself, sir. Did you want to speak to me about something in particular?"

He casually approached her, taking the seat across from her on the booth. He crossed his leg, hands crossing across chest as he examined her.

"How are you fitting in? Much different than the brutality you're used to, right?"

Freya paused for a moment. So the Commodore knew. She would have to be very careful around him, especially if he was anything like the Commodore she had known back at the academy. "It takes some getting used to, sir. Discipline and hierarchy are definitely handled differently." She looked the older officer straight in the eye. "Of course, there are far more similarities than you would expect. Sir."

"I doubt that," Gregory stated, firmly. "I don't send my officers to some hell cage to be tortured, for one."

She laughed. "I don't think I mentioned that when Starfleet questioned me about my time at the academy. You are very well informed, it appears. Sir, may I speak freely for a moment?"

His expression softened, visibly satisfied with the show of emotion from Freya. "Of course, Lieutenant," he replied. "Go right ahead."

Freya avoided the Commodore's gaze as she spoke. "Sir, I hated my Commodore at the academy. And I was not the only one." She hesitated for a moment before continuing. "A few of us were planning to... let's just say, to deal with him, when he was due to visit the Cromwell on our return from the Badlands. One of the last things I noticed before evacuating the ship was that the shields had deactivated for no apparent reason. I will never know why, but I have my suspicions." She looked up at Paladin. "Please understand that if I seem apprehensive around you, that may not necessarily be due to your own actions. I certainly hope we will have a better working relationship."

Gregory locked eyes with Freya, keeping a firm and polite smile.

"People live according to the environments they are grown in. It just happens your Commodore was grown in a harsh society, but I am grown in a more civil one. Let us both hope we can exist in such a society."

Freya slowly nodded. "We all need to adapt to our circumstances." She pointed to her PADD. "Which reminds me, I need to continue familiarising myself with the ship. I have experience with a Nova-class, but not a Miranda. Is there anything else you wanted to discuss, sir?"

The smile raised to a smirk, briefly out of character, then he shook his head as he stood.

"Not at all, Lieutenant. Carry on."

The Commodore went to get his dishes, then head to the Officer's Mess to set about cleaning his mess.

Freya returned to her PADD, but her thoughts were elsewhere. In her mind, a suspicion was lingering. But that could not be possible, could it? She shook her head and stood. There was no sense in pondering possibilities. Grabbing another coffee in a takeaway cup, Freya returned to her quarters to continue reviewing the ship's navigation systems. After all, there was not much time now before they were due to depart.

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