When one spoke of a veteran captain it was not easy to imagine a man to which the term applied to more than Joseph Barabbas Akinola. A man who had worked himself up from the very bottom rung of the ladder to become one of the Border Services’ most experienced and respected commanding officers, he was not known to the members of his crew as somebody who could easily lose his temper.
It was so much more astonishing then to hear his deep baritone voice cursing and shouting with such force that it startled the bridge crew even through the closed doors of his private office.
Dale McBride, first officer, stood at once from the captain’s chair and like everyone else on the bridge his eyes turned towards the closed doors leading to source of the commotion.
There was one final brunt, something along the lines of getting the goddamn status report showing the correct damn figures and the doors swished open, the last colorful sentence of the captain slipping out of the ready room along with a very distressed young officer, clinging to his padd as if his life depended on it.
Ensign Lennox Okonedo had been on the Bluefin for all but one week but already looked as if he was ready to call it quits. The dark African man possessed the imposing body of an Olympic athlete and yet he looked very close to tearing up right then and there.
T’Ser, the Vulcan operations officer felt immediate sympathy for the recent Academy graduate and stepped over to console him. “What happened, Len?”
He was so shaken it took him a moment to realize that he could let his guard down again. “I ... really don’t know,” he stammered. “I tried to show the captain the status report he requested and he ... I guess there was something there he didn’t like,” he added trying to look over the padd himself but unsuccessful in locating the problem.
“Let me have a look,” she said and gently took the device off of him. She too could found no fault with it. She gave him an encouraging smile which only helped to irritate the poor ensign further as he had likely never encountered a Vulcan smiling before. “It’s alright, Len, I’ll have a word the captain, okay?”
He nodded all too eagerly. “Yes. Thank you,” he added and darted off, quite happy to put as much distance between himself and the ready room.
McBride had witnessed the exchange and watched as T’Ser was bracing herself to face the captain. “Lieutenant.”
She stopped and turned to look at him.
Dale wanted to swallow when he spotted those powerful eyes focusing on him. T’Ser was a stunning young woman and the fact that she was a Vulcan who did not adhere to her people’s uncompromising dedication to logic made her attainable. He would have been lying if he didn’t admit that he would not have minded in the least to get to know the alluring Vulcan much better. Once again he mentally cursed himself for losing his resolve every time she faced him.
T’Ser for her part had the tiniest smile on her lips, almost knowingly, almost as if she liked teasing him with it.
It felt like minutes but McBride had relocated his voice in less than a couple of seconds. He stepped towards her. “I’ll take care of this.”
She handed him the padd. “Yes, sir,” she said with a smirk and then returned to her station.
Moments later McBride stood in Akinola’s ready room after the captain had allowed him to enter in a voice so soft he had nearly missed it.
The room appeared darker than usual. On the captain’s desk the first officer discovered a bowl of melted cherry vanilla ice cream which Cookie, the ship’s cook, had brought the captain about an hour earlier. An unfinished wood carving of an old Earth sailing ship stood nearby. Unfortunately the main mast had been accidentally separated and now hung loose from the main deck.
Akinola himself was sitting in his chair but facing away, his gaze firmly fixed into the infinity of space.
“I hope you haven’t come here to defend Mister Okonedo’s less than stellar work attitude,” the captain said without facing his first officer.
“Well,” he began, not quite sure how to reply at first. “I’ve taken the liberty of looking over his report and--”
“And you honestly believe that it is an adequate document which adheres to standard Starfleet regulations?”
McBride scratched his head and glanced down at the padd again at the off chance that he had missed something. “Some of the figures may not reflect maximum efficiency ratings but they’re not outside acceptable levels. Besides Ensign Okonedo merely collated the information and is not really responsible for the content. The general structure of the report itself does appear to be satisfactory.”
Now the skipper did turn. “So what you're saying is: “˜Don’t shoot the messenger?’”
The Texan shrugged his shoulder laconically. “I don’t think there is a need to shoot anybody over this.”
An uncharacteristically vicious grin came over the captain’s lips. “Is the young chap alright? Not too rattled I hope?”
“Rattled is putting it mildly.”
“Good,” said Akinola. “It’s good to know I can still put the fear of God into folks. I used to be quite good at it in my younger days,” he added, looked at his failed sailing boat with disgust before dumping it unceremoniously into a nearby bin.
“You could always get pointers from Gralt.”
The captain looked at him. There hadn’t been the slightest hint of amusement in the first officers’ voice. His face was an unmoving mask. “You think I’ve been too hard on the young man?”
“You have singled him out ever since he’s come aboard sir, and quite honestly I don’t understand why. And today ...” he didn’t add that he thought that today the captain had gone too far.
“You know he’s my nephew, don’t you?”
McBride’s eyes opened wide at this revelation. “I had no idea.”
The captain nodded. “Yes, my sister’s oldest. Got married last year, took on the name of his wife if you can believe it.”
“Why not?”
“He’s a good kid,” Akinola said with sudden compassion. “Very bright. Did you know he was third of his Academy class? Of course I was a bit disappointed that he didn’t choose to sign up as an enlisted man and get some experience under his belt first,” he said and when he spoke he sounded like he was talking about a son instead of a nephew. “But then I guess I can’t expect everyone to do as the old man did.”
McBride simply nodded, not wanting to interrupt the captain.
“Melody - my sister - is so proud of him and I promised her that I look out for him. It’s difficult to make a promise like that, Dale. Out here you can never know what to expect. While my own heart is filled with pride at seeing this promising young man wearing the uniform, I can’t help but wish he hadn’t come out here.”
“Is that what you’re trying to do, sir? Getting him so spooked that he’ll ask to be reassigned to a safer place instead?”
“Of course not. But I want him to toughen up a bit. If he can’t deal with me than how’s he going to deal with boarding an Orion raider jam-packed with men wanting nothing more than using his head as a springball? How is he going to represent the Service in light of young ignorant Starfleet officers with half his wit giving orders that will make his life a hell of a lot more dangerous for no reason at all.”
And then McBride finally understood what all this was really about. Certainly Akinola felt immense responsibility towards his nephew but the captain was not a man to worry about the perpetual dangers of being a Border Dog. What he had a problem with was to follow the orders of man who didn’t know what he was doing.
What he had problem with was Starfleet swooping in on his well conceived mission to get one of the most notorious crime figures in the sector behind bars only to have the entire operation pulled out from under him by a Starfleet captain chasing his admiral bars.
“This is about Captain Schwarzkopf,” McBride said. “That’s what made you lose your appetite.”
Akinola shot him an angry glare but quickly realized that it was misplaced and his features softened. “We’ve been trying to catch Shuun for months. We’ve prepared a brig just for him and the other big fish he would eventually lead us to. Oh what would I give for the chance to show Lortho and his thugs some of our hospitality. But now that Starfleet has shown an interest we can forget about all of that.”
“How do you figure, sir?”
“Didn’t you hear Schwarzkopf? Oh yes, he claims he wants Shuun for the raids and his Syndicate contacts but what he’s really after is to expose some phantom connection between Shuun and who knows whom. It’s all this damned cloak-and-dagger stuff and I guarantee you the moment they get Shunn in custody nobody will see him ever again.”
“Maybe that’s not such a bad thing.”
“Don’t be so naïve, Dale,” said Akinola and stood. “He’s not going to get what he deserves. He’ll never even spend one day in a cozy rehabilitation colony. They’ll make some sort of deal with him that will allow him to disappear and with him our best chances to shut down the Syndicate for good. We’ll be back to square one, fighting the Elix clan in the trenches and putting good people like Lennox in the crossfire.”
Akinola stepped away from his desk and headed for the doors. “Tell the good ensign that I’m satisfied with his report, might as well take it a bit easier on him considering the difficult times ahead,” he said. “And do me a favor, Dale, dispose of that ice cream before it starts to mold, will ya?”
And with that Akinola was gone to brood over the general senselessness of the galaxy within the privacy of his quarters.