Facing the Music

Posted on 10 Mar 2016 @ 4:21am by Lieutenant Commander Temerant Bast & Captain Harvey Geisler

1,491 words; about a 7 minute read

Mission: Outbreak
Location: Captain's Ready Room
Timeline: MD 1 || 1000 hours

Lieutenant Bast leaned on his cane as the turbolift doors opened on the Bridge. His ankle was still sore from the accident, and Doctor Kij had recommended the use of the cane while the muscles stabilizing his foot finished healing. But he was using it for emotional support as well as physical.

He was still trying to come to grips with recent events. He found it difficult to believe that he could have been so easily abused, violated and manipulated by the Consortium, but the evidence was there.

All activity on the Bridge stopped as he stepped out of the turbolift. All eyes turned to look at him, as he made his way silently toward the Captain's ready room. He avoided making eye contact with anyone, and pressed the door chime.

Harvey stood on the other side of the door, once again staring out the window at the dilithium processing center so wonderfully labeled Starbase Unity. He was not looking forward to at all what was about to happen next. Still, he knew that he didn't have a choice in the matter. Protocol was very specific on this matter, but Harvey couldn't help but take this personal.

He was doing everything he could to prevent his anger from taking the best of him when he heard the chime. In a moment, Harvey straightened his posture, but did not turn to face the door. "Come," he bellowed.

The doors opened, and Bast walked in, leaning heavily on the cane. He held his head high, intent on taking whatever would come his way like a Starfleet officer, and a man with over a hundred years of experience.

He stood at attention - or at least as close to it as his ankle and the cane would allow, and took a deep breath.

"Lieutenant Temerant Bast, reporting for... Whatever disciplinary action you see fit."

Harvey took another second's worth of the view of Unity before turning to see the Trill before him. He'd read Doctor Kij's report, but it did little to dissuade his opinion of the man. "Explain yourself, lieutenant," Harvey demanded, refusing to take a step of any kind in the Ops Chief's direction.

Bast took a moment to collect his thoughts, and chose his words carefully. "I don't really know how I can explain this," he began. "It was like being trapped in some sort of psychotic nightmare. I was cut off from my symbiont. They somehow got inside my head, and twisted everything around. I was convinced that Starfleet was doing bad things, and that somehow it would lead to the resurgence of the Dominion. They had me convinced that the Federation would fall, and that Trill… and Earth, for that matter… would burn."

"So... Starfleet was going to bring about the end of the Federation?" Harvey asked, his expression grim. "And, knowing the uniform that you wear, you believed that?"

"No, Sir," said Bast. "I never believed Starfleet would turn against the Federation. But I believed - or I was manipulated into believing - that the Federation's policies and Starfleet's strategies in the Gamma Quadrant would lead to the Dominion regrouping and mounting a counter-attack on Starfleet, and taking the war back to the Alpha Quadrant. A war that they could win, this time."

He paused. He'd had three days to intellectualize the recent events, and to consider his answer. "On Earth, World War Two occurred under the watch of the Society of Nations, and was sparked by a nation that had been subjugated after another world-wide conflict. The Middle-Eastern Insurgency of the early twenty-first century occurred under the watch of the United Nations, a body devoted to maintaining the peace. And there are other examples on Andor, Tellar, Trill, Betazed...

"Commodore Terlexa convinced me that she was doing everything she could to make sure that didn't happen. And that she was relying on a handful of trusted officers to help her accomplish that task."

Harvey was surprised as to the Trill's knowledge of human history. But that did little to dissuade his opinion of the man standing before him. "And now? Do you still cling to those truths?"

"I believe the Federation needs to remain vigilant," replied Bast. "We've won the war against the Dominion, we've tamed the lion, but it still has teeth, and could turn around and bite our hand off on a moment's notice. But do I believe our vigilance should come at the expense of our trust of one another? No, I do not. If and when the Federation falls, I'd like to think that it does so while standing for its founding principles of duty, honor, and fraternity among the peoples of the galaxy."

The captain nodded, walking over to his desk and began to sort through a couple of PADDs. He selected one and set it on Bast's side of the desk with the emblem of Starfleet Medical displayed on it. "I've had the opportunity to read Doctor Kij's report. An interesting read, if I do say so, Lieutenant. Hypnosis. Mind-control. Whatever you want to call it. A fantastic story."

"I can understand why you would think that, Sir. But I can assure you that this situation qualifies more as a horror story than fantasy," replied Bast, pursuing Geisler's literary genre analogy. "I don't know if it's possible for a non-Trill to grasp the extent to which interfering with the connection between a host and the symbiont is... grotesque, even obscene, to us. What was done to me is tantamount to a rape." Anger was creeping into Bast's voice, and he could feel tears welling up as he spoke the last words.

Harvey didn't move, instead he absorbed every word and emotion he could sense. "It still leaves the question though," he pointed out. "How much of the last few days was Temerant?" he asked, deliberately referencing his birth name, and not the name of the symbiont. "And how much was Terlexa?"

"I'm not sure you can categorize it that way," replied Bast. "Say in a moment of drunken stupor, you're doing stupid things. How much of it is the alcohol, and how much of it is you?" Before Geisler could reply, Bast continued. "They violated my mind, and cranked up every psychosis to eleven. Then they convinced me that the only way to avoid everything was to help them stop the Dominion from regaining strength, and that the only way to do that was to prevent Starfleet from continuing its current policies in this quadrant. How much of it was Terlexa, and how much of it was me? I honestly can't answer you."

Geisler again did not nod or otherwise move, weighing carefully the argument. Finally, he looked down and picked up a PADD. This one he did not place on the desk for Bast to see, though Harvey did step out from behind the desk and approached the Lieutenant. "The difference is, Lieutenant, the drunkard is held accountable for his actions once he sobers up." Without giving Bast a chance to respond, Harvey continued, "My first instinct is to see you transferred off this ship, believe it or not, for your own safety."

"What if someone spiked your drink without your knowledge?" replied Bast. Then he picked up the subtlety in Geisler's choice of words. "Your first instinct. Meaning you've reconsidered that decision."

"Indeed." Harvey waved the PADD. "You have several factors working in your favor. Starfleet has set quite the precedent when it comes mind-control and outside influences. Hell, Captain Picard's own Chief Engineer once tried to assassinate a dignitary after being conditioned by Romulans. He's now on his own path to command."

Bast nodded once skeptically, and waved those comments aside. "That's what Starfleet says. But you and I both know keeping me here is pointless unless I have the trust of my commanding officer."

Harvey nodded in agreement. "Frankly, Mister Bast," he confessed, "I don't have much choice. While personnel are being shifted from ship to ship out here at Unity, the fact remains that I need a competent Chief of Operations. And those are hard to come by right now, even out here."

Bast nodded again. At least now he knew what to expect - Geisler didn't trust him, but rather he was stuck with him because he needed a Chief of Operations. He knew that he would be under close scrutiny.

"Understood," he replied simply.

"And I expect nothing short of your best, Lieutenant," Harvey stressed.

"I wouldn't have it any other way, Sir," replied Bast.

Captain Geisler lowered the PADD. "Good," he confirmed. "Unless you have anything to add, I believe we're done here."

"Yes, Sir. Thank you, Sir," Bast replied. He turned on his heel, and walked out of the Captain's Ready Room, supporting himself with his cane.

Once outside, and after the doors hissed shut behind him, he allowed himself to breathe a sigh of relief.

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