Chapter Text
Starfleet ships generally ran on San Francisco time, keeping up with its twenty-four hour clock and same days of the week for simplicity, but “Wednesday” was still a somewhat nebulous concept when out in deep space. Stardates had long ago been designed to help bridge some of those gaps, but there was still no “weekend” on a California-class cruiser. Downtime was whenever you had it, and though all of the California-class ships had been experiencing a renewed joie de vivre since their combined defeat of the Aledo, one thing hadn’t changed: the lower decks were still where some of the best action was at. Even if – no, especially if – it would be considered “nerdy” by civilian standards.
D'Vana Tendi was bouncing in place on her bunk as she considered their options for the evening; her friends had offered to let her pick and she was savoring every moment of it. “I think we should do another holodeck movie.” She shrugged. “I know the last one wasn’t that long ago, but…who says we have to space them so far out? Give the people what they want!”
Beckett Mariner chuckled, sliding off her bunk and to the floor. “Hell, yeah!” She checked her chronometer. “I’ve got a planning sesh with Ransom in, like, a hour, whether he likes it or not…but it won’t take long, and I am so in after that.” She bowed dramatically to her friends. “So, Crisis Point III, Madame Director…what are you thinking?”
Nearly in unison, with the fluidity of friends who could anticipate each other’s moves, Sam Rutherford and Brad Boimler hopped up and fell into place on either side of Mariner, all three of them focused on Tendi.
“Oh…oh, wow, I hadn’t gotten that far yet.” Tendi twisted her hands together in excited anticipation. “I don’t want to ruin the cinematic universe!”
“Oh, you won’t,” Mariner assured her. Her laugh came out as something of a snort. “Did you see some of the crap we pulled in the other two? Just…go with what you’re feeling. It worked for us!”
“Yeah,” Boimler encouraged. “There’s a whole host of filmmaking tropes we haven’t even touched yet!”
“You’re right!” Tendi brightened even more, something Mariner hadn’t been sure was possible. It took so little to make her so happy and that was one of her most endearing traits. She frowned thoughtfully. “So, maybe some backstory for the characters we met before…learn something about why they make the choices they do. But, oh, there’s got to be a change arc…”
Mariner patted Tendi’s shoulder. “See? You’ve got this.” She frowned as her comm badge chirped – now that Jack Ransom wasn’t trying to trip her up and was genuinely mentoring her, he didn’t call her to meetings unreasonably early. And who else would have been calling? “Hang on.” She tapped her badge. “Yeah, it’s Mariner – go ahead.”
“Ensign…could you meet me in my ready room?” It was her mother, probably staying formal for the sake of professionalism on communications. They’d been finding a nice balance recently, more warmth in private and more ability to set their complicated relationship aside when they were at work. It was a lot of work – and far more therapy than Mariner liked – but it was coming along. Perhaps they’d had to find a rock bottom so that they finally had a place to move up from.
“Of course, Captain.” Mariner shrugged. “Wonder what she wants.” And, unless it was quick, it would leave her with little time before her meeting with Ransom. “Guess I’ll find out. Keep working on it – we can hit the holodeck after I’m done with Ransom. Or if you guys get bored waiting, I could always make a stunning second-act entrance.”
Tendi laughed. “Go on. But you’d better be ready when you get back!”
Mariner grinned. “I was born ready.” She shrugged, relishing the chance to drop a juicy personal tidbit on them before she disappeared without explaining. “Actually, I was born in the Essex’s ready room. That’s how ready I am.” With a farewell wave, she turned and headed for the nearest turbolift, their confusion and beginning debate of whether she’d made that up delighting her until she was out of earshot.
Ransom checked the chronometer at the bar again, sighing in annoyance. Casual meetings were still meetings, and while he appreciated the strides Mariner had been making, he expected her to be on time. Especially since she’d been the one to request that they go over some training scenarios together. Timeliness was something he valued, and Mariner was nearly ten minutes late. He sighed, activating his comm badge. “Ransom to Mariner…” When she didn’t answer, he tried again, not even bothering to wait for her to reply before asking where she was. Again, met with no response, he turned to the ship’s computer. “Location of Ensign Mariner.”
The computer, as always, didn’t hesitate to reply. “Ensign Mariner is in Captain Freeman’s ready room.”
Well, that was one excuse for tardiness he might have been willing to accept, if she was with the captain…well, professionally. And if it was a personal meeting, he figured the captain still wouldn’t mind him reminding them both of the time. After all, she was even more of a fan of punctuality than he was. But that still didn’t explain why Mariner was ignoring him. Frowning, Ransom stood and began to head for the bridge. Something seemed off, and he’d long ago learned to trust his instincts.
Ransom rang the doorbell of the ready room, waiting for the captain to invite him in. When nothing but silence greeted him, he frowned, ringing again. Something was definitely off. “Computer, locate Captain Freeman.”
“Captain Freeman is in her quarters.”
The only thing that explained was why she hadn’t let him in, but it opened up a whole host of new questions. Ransom tried to ignore the growing, uneasy feeling in his chest. “What is the location of Ensign Mariner?”
“Ensign Mariner is in Captain Freeman’s ready room.”
That was it; he was going in. The door didn’t slide open when he stepped forward to enter, but that wouldn’t stop him. He gave the computer the override code for the door and it opened obligingly…revealing a ready room that looked like a hurricane had blown through it. The captain’s knickknacks were off the shelf and strewn about the room, her desk chair overturned. Mariner wasn’t anywhere in sight, and Ransom wished he had a phaser on him. While he wouldn’t have been shocked to find his captain and her daughter blowing off a little steam with a sparring session, this wasn’t where they would have done it. And even if Mariner had decided to prank Freeman by messing with her collection, this was too far. Once, he might have thought she didn’t know what “too far” even was, but they’d both grown in the last couple of years. “Mariner!” Had her comm badge fallen off after whatever brought her here? There was no closet for her to be hidden in. He walked around the desk to look, and gasped as he saw her, unconscious and in a pool of blood. “Mariner!” For a moment, he feared she might be dead until she groaned quietly and took a raspy breath. A wave of guilt washed over him for the moments he had wasted being annoyed while waiting for her, even though rationally he knew he could have never guessed this. Did someone on the crew still have it out for her? Or, worse, was there a criminal with no relation to the crew in their midst?
Ransom reached up to call both security and for a medical team, but Mariner was barely breathing and he knew he could probably get to sickbay in less time than it would take a team to reach them. Plus, the fewer people walking through a crime scene, the better. He scooped Mariner into his arms as gently as possible, calling for security and for the room to be sealed to all but Shaxs and his team – then took off for sickbay at a run, calling Dr. T’ana along the way. Crew members turned to look at him in alarm, which was entirely justified, but he was a man on a mission and he barely spared them a glance. T’ana and her team met him at the sickbay doors, and he surrendered Mariner to them before sinking into the nearest chair. Ransom was fit enough that he was barely winded, but his initial shock was wearing off and the gravity of the situation was beginning to sink in. Someone had tried to kill Mariner and had been able to not only attack her, but leave her for dead without a trace. Not to mention that the one person who needed to be informed next was the last person Ransom wanted to break that news to. But he was the first officer, and sometimes that meant he had to suck it up and deal with the tough tasks. He tapped his comm badge. “Ransom to Freeman.”
She answered immediately. “This is Freeman.”
Ransom sighed. “Captain, we have a problem.” Before she could ask too many questions, he continued. “It’s too sensitive for an open channel. Meet me in sickbay as soon as you can.”
Her response spoke volumes. To a crew member, Freeman probably sounded perfectly calm, but Ransom easily recognized the edge of anxiety in Freeman’s “crisis” tone. “I’m on my way.”