From: mgoto@indiana.edu (Masako Goto)
Date: Mon, 3 Mar 1997 10:29:51 -0500 (EST)
Subject: USS CHESAPEAKE: Keyrin and Murray go to Dinner
SD 90303.1520 (GMT)
---------------
Deck 6 Corridor
---------------
MD 1.2050
        Anne's confident glide became a frantic scramble when she
saw the turbolift door closing.  She could run extremely fast when
she needed to, and she poured her energy into it as though it were
a national race.
        "PLEASE HOLD THE TURBOLIFT!" she called, hoping that whoever
was inside would do as she asked.
        "No problem," came the cheerful voice, and Anne sighed with
relief.  It was that nice young woman, the Chief Security Officer.
Ensign Keyrin, wasn't it?
        "Hello again, Lieutenant," said Ensign Keyrin, looking at her
with a hint of amusement.  "You're looking a lot better now.  Did you
get some rest?"
        "Yes, I did, thank you," replied Anne.  "Would you mind telling
the turbolift where we're supposed to go?  I must confess that I am
completely lost."
        "Certainly." Ensign Keyrin instructed the computer, "Officer's
Mess," then watched the fluctuating patterns of light and dark that 
passed by them as they traversed the decks.
        "What do you think, Ensign," said Anne, quite out of the blue,
"is the most important duty a Starfleet officer has?"
        Aelyria leaned against the wall and crossed her arms 
thoughtfully. "To obey their commander and show them support.  To carry 
out your duties to the best of your ability.  To further the Prime 
Directive wherever you can."  
        She turned to Anne.  "Why do you ask?  Feeling philosophical?" 
        Just then, the turbolift came to a sudden halt.  Aelyria 
slammed her palms against the railing to try and keep her balance as 
the sudden stop sent her reeling.  "What the..."  
        "Computer.  Run malfunction diagnostics, level two."  
        No response. 
        "Computer.  Acknowledge vocal request, please."  
        No response. 
        "Computer, kiss my ..." 
        "I don't think it's working, Aelyria,"  Anne said, somewhat 
bemused.
        Keyrin growled deep in the back of her throat.  She tapped her
combadge. "Keyrin to Torr.  I'm on Turbolift 3 and it seems to be 
stuck. Can you come get me out of this thing before I'm late to the 
officer's dinner?"  She checked her watch.  They were starting to cut 
it close.  
        <>
        "Torr, I love ya, man... "  She turned to Lt. Murray.  "Looks 
like we're stuck."  
        "Guess so..." 
        Anne bit her lip.  It was most disagreeable to be running late
on the first day aboard a ship, but she had to make the best of it.
Besides, this was as good a time as any to ask the Ensign some 
questions.
        "Which is better, to be fired upon first so that we will avoid 
appearing hostile; or to fire first so that we will have the tactical 
advantage?" asked Anne.  It seemed like a good start, since Ensign 
Keyrin seemed to be a bit suspicious of more general questions.  Anne 
decided that she could work up to it.
        "Depends on the diplomacy involved.  And if you *know* they're 
going to fire -- fire first.  If you don't, wait, because you can't 
afford to be wrong in a situation like that."
        Anne nodded in acknowledgement, not passing judgement, positive
or negative.  The point was to listen to the answers, not to judge 
them.
        "Where do you draw the line between reasonable doubt and 
insufficient proof?" she asked next, since the last question had netted 
better results than her first question.
        "Reasonable doubt is... believing something to be highly 
likely, but being unable to be 100 percent sure.  Insufficient proof is 
... I'd say, less than fifty percent likely.  It's a matter of degree." 
        Ah.  Anne could use that information some day, if she ever 
decided that she'd like to report Kevin Mallory... but she stopped 
herself by asking the next question.
        "What is the function of the Security Department?"
        "To make sure that all internal and external threats to the 
ship are countered as soon as they arise.  To ensure the ultimate 
safety and well-being of the ship and its crew."
        Anne liked that.  This officer certainly had a firm grasp on 
what was expected of her and what she expected of herself.  She also 
noted that Ensign Keyrin was being a bit more open now than before.
        "Is war good or bad?  Why?"
        "War is neither.  It's a fact of life.  It serves good because 
it fights evil.  It serves evil because it takes the lives of the 
innocent and just.  And it is inevitable." 
        "Inevitable?" Anne raised an eyebrow.
        "Inevitable," was the firm reply.
        "Where do you think would be the best place to set up a 
diplomatic mission?" asked Anne, hoping to recover herself from the 
blow of the last answer that Ensign Keyrin had given her.
        "In a common meeting ground to both parties.  A neutral zone.  
A place that gives neither an advantage.  Unfortunately, in any 
diplomatic situation, such a place is nearly impossible to find that is 
conveniently situated to both sides."  
        "Should everyone be required to take courses in combat 
procedures and practices at Starfleet Academy?  Why or why not?" Anne 
asked, hoping that the CSO wouldn't mention a certain incident that had 
occurred earlier that afternoon.
        "Of course.  This is the military.  Like it or not, we have to 
be prepared for the possibility of battle.  A crewmember unprepared for 
battle, or at the very least, self-defense, is a liability to the 
ship." 
        A liability.  How interesting, thought Anne.  It was a good 
thing she had signed her Iotians up for combat training tapering 
sessions.
        "What do you want more than anything in the world?" she asked 
now, feeling that Ensign Keyrin was ready for the more abstract 
questions.
        Aelyria took a deep breath and closed her eyes. "To succeed.  
To be happy.  It's the same thing."
        Anne nodded in acknowledgement, though she wasn't entirely 
certain that to be happy was necessarily to succeed.  Well, it 
depended, she supposed, on how one defined "success."
        "What is your ultimate goal in life?" she asked.
        "To die knowing that I wouldn't live my life any differently 
the second time around.  To feel that I accomplished something 
worthwhile in my time in the universe." 
        Anne had to smile at that.  It sounded so much like her own 
goals. But, she wondered, do we ever live that kind of life?  There are 
always regrets, always things we should have done differently...
        "Which is better, to die in the line of duty or to survive to 
report the offenders who decimate the rest of your crew?" asked Anne.  
It was a touchy subject, but one that her former co-workers and she had 
debated over the years.
        "Again, depends.  If you can reasonably save your life without
cowardice, it's only common sense to do so.  If you can't, die 
honorably. And surviving to report the offenders only to face shame and 
court martial isn't really all that great, now is it?"   She grinned.  
"But whatever else happens, go out with a bang." 
        Somehow, the last bit didn't surprise Anne in the least.  She 
was already starting to calculate the likely results in her head, not 
even referring to the memorized formulas and guidelines.
        "If you had to choose between rescuing twenty hostages and 
saving three hundred criminals, which would you choose?  What if the 
hostages were children?  What if the three hundred were colonists 
(i.e., not criminals)?" she asked now, putting her philosophical 
questions in a worst-case application scenario.
        Suddenly, Aelyria's mind vividly flashed back to that awful,
horrible day... the day when she had come home from school to find her
mother hysterical in the living room, Theresa gazing pale and 
empty-eyed out the window... the officer gently telling her that her 
father was dead... that the hostage negotiations had gone horribly 
wrong... they were sorry.... the world going black as the pain and 
disbelief exploded through her mind... 
        "The hostages."  Her reply was tense and bitten off.  "At any 
cost. Especially children.   If... if there were a greater number of 
colonists, I suppose you'd have to save them... "  She was fighting 
tears with all her strength.  "But still I'd try for the hostages if 
there were any chance."  
        Anne sensed that she had hit a nerve.
        "I'm sorry, Ensign," she said quietly.  "I did not mean to
upset you." She looked at the CSO.  "That question wasn't so abstract
for you, was it?" she asked carefully.
        Ensign Keyrin shrugged; it could have been a yes or a no.  But 
her tense posture and her downcast eyes said it all.
        "I'm sorry," Anne repeated.  "Perhaps..."
        Anne was saved from continuing along that painful path by the
chirping of Ensign Keyrin's comm badge.
        "Keyrin here." Her voice cracked only slightly.
         said Torr.  
        Ensign Keyrin looked fit to be tied.  She made strangling 
gestures at Anne with her hands before tapping her combadge.  "Ensign 
Keyrin to Commander Brennan."
        <>
        Aelyria snorted.  "If ever there was one.  Me and Lt. Murray, 
the CSciO, are stuck on a turbolift.  My assistant has just discovered 
the source of the problem and we'll hopefully be on our way very soon." 
        <>  Brennan sounded slightly
concerned and also slightly amused. 
        "No, thanks.  My apologies for our tardiness." 
        <>
        "I'll deal with the student," said Anne.  She thought back to
who in the department could be testing the turbolifts at this hour.
        "Murray to CISD," she said, tapping her comm badge.
                
        
        "Mr. Prokofiev, may I please speak with Mr. Cassidy?"
        
        "It's an emergency, Cadet.  Please call him."
        
        A moment later, Daryll Cassidy came on the line.
        
        "Mr. Cassidy," said Anne, mustering all the patience she could,
"please discontinue the turbolift diagnostic program until *after* the
Beta shift, please.  We have a mandatory meeting to attend, and we are
already running late."
        
        "WHAT DID I JUST SAY, MR. CASSIDY?" If tone could kill, Daryll
Cassidy would have been dead, buried, and possibly fossilized by the
end of that sentence.
         Good.  Sufficiently scared into
obedience, thought Anne.  Plenty of time to build up trust later.  For
now, she needed immediate results.
        "Right *now*, Mr. Cassidy."
         There were some beeps, and a barely perceptible
hum made its way back into the turbolift.   said Cassidy.
        "Very good, Cadet.  Please run all-level diagnostics on the
Department computer partition.  Murray out."
        Anne cut the link before Cassidy could object.  She ordered
the turbolift to resume course, and she and the CSO rode the rest of
the way to the dinner in silence.
        Anne hoped that her inopportune question hadn't quenched the
fragile friendship they had been forming.  She would talk more with
the Ensign... but not now.  They had a dinner to attend.
Respectfully submitted,
Lynnaea AelCaymarth, aka       Masako Goto
Ensign Aelyria Keyrin          Lt. Anne Murray, Ph.D.
CSO, USS CHESAPEAKE            CSciO, USS CHESAPEAKE
_____________________          _____________________
rneces@mastnet.net             mgoto@indiana.edu

*NRPG*
Lynnaea: if there's anything you didn't like, you can hit me
         over the head with a virtual sledgehammer...
Melvin: thanks for the post!  :)
Amy: are we going to get into trouble for being late???
Well, off to send this message...
	Masako, who added the gratuitous (yes, it's one of my
        favorite words) NRPG at the end

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