Command 101 – Avoidance Techniques
Posted on December 12th, 1999 by AC Zuriyev and Merienn Kiela

Captain A.C. Zuriyev watched the bridge viewscreen intently, his jade eyes searching for the distinctive shimmer that denoted a cloaked vessel. Atlantis had chased the unknown attacker to behind a nearby moon, but the trail ended there; their opponent had simply vanished, it would seem. Cursing tiredly in Russian, the captain surveyed the bridge. His crew was exhausted, having been on duty far longer than usual. Lieutenant Junior Grade Belle Carver had fainted at OPS, and the rest of the bridge crew seemed similarly drained.

Frowning resignedly, Captain Zuriyev slapped his commbadge. “Captain Zuriyev to Commander Sullivan.”

Sullivan’s voice sounded tinny through the commlink as she replied, probably due to atmospheric interference. “Sullivan here, go ahead, Captain.”

“Commander,” he began, still frowning, “get back up here. Ze trail is cold, I believe our mark has left ze area.”

“Aye, Captain,” Sullivan replied, and rerouted the comm to the transporter room.

A few minutes later, Sullivan arrived on the bridge. “I’m ordering Alpha shift off duty, Commander,” the captain said, addressing his Executive Officer. “We’ve all been on duty far too long. Beta shift can resume ze search.”

Sullivan nodded. “Aye, Captain,” she replied, and opened the shipwide comm to inform the crew of the duty change.

Four minutes later, one less than protocol demanded for shift changes, the Beta shift officers arrived on the bridge. Among them was a red-headed human woman, Lieutenant Commander Eireen Doyle, the Beta shift CO. She was tall and possessed of particularly lovely striking green eyes flecked with lavender and gold. Captain Zuriyev briefed her on the situation, then turned over command for the day. “Alpha shift, clear ze bridge,” he ordered.

The officers obeyed, filing into the turbolifts. Alexi tarried, as always, the captain in him demanding that he be the last to leave the bridge. As he walked to the turbolift, he noticed Lieutenant Senior Grade Merienn Kiela still at her station, ensuring that her relief officer had the proper data to extrapolate possible courses of the cloaked ship. Satisfied, she entered the turbolift as he did.

“I was impressed with your performance, Lieutenant,” Captain Zuriyev said, wondering what Merienn would think of the comment as he remembered their heated exchange of words.

Kiela glanced at the Captain, questioning his sincerity. “Mmm,” she said noncommitally. Unwaveringly, she fixed her gaze firmly on the turbo-lift wall, though finding precious little to entertain her attention in the blank white expanse. She hoped the gesture would convey her wishes: to be left alone.

Alexi smiled slightly and directed the TL to deck eight which contained the senior officers’ quarters. “It was refreshing to see an officer stand up for herself like zat. I wanted to see if you would.”

A small blaze of fire ignited like a candle flame in Kiela’s gut. “A test?” she asked derisively. She shook her head and permitted herself to regard Alexi square in the face again. “Will I find a pea under my mattress next?” Kiela shook her head, slightly. She did not understand the need of command to constantly test their underlings as though they were mice in a maze.

She found the practice immature at best, but then Kiela frequently found herself thinking of her peers, no matter rank, as being lacking in some fundamental maturing quality that she herself had been forced to undergo by the rigors of a childhood among her ancestral enemies. Most of her compatriots simply exuded youth with all the follies and exuberance of those who have not had to endure life’s trials. In Alexi, however, there was a certain cast to the features that eradicated the hopeless innocence of many Starfleet officers who hadn’t yet reached their fortieth birthday. His eyes held a certain look of sadness that was familiar to Kiela from the hollow gaze of her own reflection in the mirror.

“Never mind tests,” she said finally, tone softened. “A little argument lets the blood boil, almost like a little combat.”

“Well,” Alexi began, “I’ll be straight with you… zis is something we are required to do for officers that we think could end up in command.” Alexi thought the woman capable enough to handle a ship of her own. She was a child of war, like he was, and had the “right stuff” — as the qualities necessary for command had been called for hundreds of years.

Kiela blinked. “Command? You must be mistaken, sir,” she said using the formal term of address deliberately even though they were alone. “Have you forgotten my record? There are plenty of unblemished youngsters who are idealistic enough to scurry through the stars trying to fix the universe.”

The turbolift arrived, its doors giving a familiar swoosh as they revealed deck eight. Alexi stepped out into the cooridor and leaned against the bulkhead. “To address both of your points, my record is probably as blemished as possible for a Starfleet officer to still be in Starfleet. Idealism is not a good quality for a CO to have, either. You’ve been zere, Lieutenant, as have I,” he said, scratching absently at his hair, which he was still not used to having.

“I thank you for your confidence,” Kiela said flatly, neither dismissing nor accepting what she considered a very generous assessment.

Kiela exited the turbo-lift and started down the hall. Her quarters were at this end of the hallway, and she nodded toward Alexi, entering them quickly, glad to escape from the awkwardness of the situation. Kiela frequently had to admit that she didn’t know what to make of her Captain. In some ways their pasts made them resonate on a subconscious level, but in other ways as both of them seemed to have a strong desire to be in control of their own situation, they frequently conflicted.

She murmured a few words of parting, and fled into her quarters.

Her cat, overdue for its evening meal, greeted her at the door demandingly. Catering to the feline, Kiela almost missed seeing the knife that sat in her replicator. It gleamed in the darkness, serated edge catching the ambient light in Kiela’s darkened quarters and making it leap in a brilliant white hue. Kiela set her cat down and walked over to the knife. She picked it up.

The hilt was cold and smooth beneath her palm, and she could feel her skin sink into an etched engraving on its surface. Delicately she cradeled the bottom of the hilt in her other palm, and mover her other hand, careful to keep herself alway from the sharp edge. The hilt was a cold blue veined with white, like marble only with a different consistency, and a snake was etched into it with a few symbols Kiela was unable to read.

She cursed softly, then louder, and slammed the knife back into the replicator. She ran through the alternatives in her mind, not liking them, and stood for a moment, not sure what to do. Finally, she concluded that the best solution was to leave the problem behind altogether and stalked out of her quarters, leaving her cat behind, mewling for its dinner.

“Computer, identify the number of Captain Zuriyev’s quarters, and direct me toward them.”

About half a minute later, Kiela pushed the panel by Alexi’s door and waited for him to come out.

Alexi had entered his quarters and poured himself a vodka. When the doorchime rang, he was sitting on the couch, his feet propped on the coffee table, drink in hand. He stood, taking another sip of the vodka, and beckoned for his caller to enter as he crossed to the door.

“Captain,” Kiela said, breathless, cold, trying to summon up a persona of bravado to mask her sudden surge of timidity.

Alexi sensed something wrong immediately, his empathy able to detect that despite her efforts to the contrary. “Da, Lieutenant?”

Kiela thought for a moment, frantically. She didn’t want to tell the Captain what was wrong, she wanted to ask Alexi to be a friend to her. “You told us we should rest, yes?” she asked. The Captain nodded. “Well, you didn’t say we had to do it alone. I have a marvelous combat exercise program for the holodeck. After the hours of tension on the bridge, I think we could both use a little physical exercise to restore our energy.”

Alexi nodded, knowing that wasn’t what she came to him for, but decided not to press the issue. “All right, Lieutenant, zat is fine.”