Posted on Tue Sep 14th, 2021 @ 5:47pm by Lieutenant Colonel Shaun Bradley & Captain Luka Mahone
2,108 words; about a 11 minute read
Mission:
Frizzle
Timeline: MD Post the Mob
The sight of the Captain drinking a steaming cup of black coffee like it was an alcohol chaser was likely what deterred the remainder of the disgruntled parents from confronting him about Starfleet's actions. It certainly halted the small series of crewmen from continually updating the normally genial doctor of the situation. But Luka could gather what occurred. The group, or some part of it, had been found. Relief washed over, and while Luka wanted to run in and assist, he knew he served more good outside the caverns, making certain chaos did not erupt from them.
He spoke into his mug at the person who decided to be 'brave enough' to approach. "You know, if you stand there, maybe we can clear all the civilians out solely on that."
Yawning as he approached, the pilot offered first a big stretch, followed by a laugh. "Hold on, let me go put my intimidating uniform on first, I think the flight suit might let them think I'm here to help," Shaun said, looking to the Captain. He'd been directing Marines about, but with one of the Albatrosses having left to drop parents and scared children back off at Haumea, he was now just watching over the second rescue group. Somewhere, there was a Marine delightfully explaining the functions of the projectile based A-4 rifle to a star-struck child and a horror-struck parent. There was a new Marine being born for sure. He finally stopped beside the other man, and looked to the crowd of increasingly concerned remaining parents.
"So, was it as bad as it looked?"
"If you liken it to herding angry, feral cats? No. Wasn't too bad. Only a few people were injured, but I don't think it was life threatening." Luka quirked his brow, setting the now empty mug to one side. "But if you consider the maturity level they're supposed to have vs the level they clearly do not exhibit... I think it could have gone better. I understand their children have lives at stake, but the amount of distrust they have in us is..." He trailed off, holding up a hand. "I digress. Yes, yes it was as bad as it looked."
The Marine nodded, his eyes tracking a couple wary looking Medical Officers, the stress of a rescue starting to show on those less accustomed. "I figured," he said finally, looking back to the Captain. "But if it was only that bad, then we can all take solace in knowing it could have gone worse. And for that, I feel you deserve praise."
Luka gave Shaun a confused look. "Praise?" Then came the head shake. "For as disorganized as this colony is right now, I don't think praise is the word I'd use. I'm sure there could have been more injuries incurred, but I don't think I've heard the last of this."
With a smile and a shrug, Shaun replied "Starfleet can't sneeze without someone being offended and lodging a pile of complaints. But no one is dead, are they? The injuries were incurred by trying to stop further injuries, you've used all resources at your disposal to rescue the children, and have been as peaceful with the mob as you could be. Sure, a greater Captain wouldn't have had it come to this, would have found a way to alleviate the problem earlier. But if such a Captain exists I have yet to meet them. But a lesser Captain? I have met many of those." He paused to gesture to the remaining Albatross dropships and couple of fighter craft that had landed to provide assistance. "You have the galaxies most powerful ground fighting force at your disposal. A full squadron of fighters and the Marine Corps premiere combat transport craft at your fingertips. Enough force immediately available to have made sure that entire affair was put down immediately. But you didn't. And as a Marine, I appreciate that, and so will Rear Admiral Minawara."
The confusion on the Captain's face lingered. "I mean no offense, but sending Marines after angered parents seems a bit extreme to me. It was a mob of relatively justifiable anger." He looked out to the remainder of the group, muddling around Cornelius's set-up. The few parents there were what stood between him and more coffee. He'd give in eventually. "I don't blame them for having their emotions. Sending your Marines into a situation like that might have shut it down in the short term, but made it worse in the long term. I've already lost enough trust as it is. Best not make it worse, right?"
The Lieutenant Colonel nodded. "Correct, you can see that, and you clearly saw that before." He gestured over the security outpost. "Your new Chief also had the option of violence and phaser fire. A simple solution as well, mass stun and deal with the problem later. Another tool in your belt always, but one you had the foresight not to use. Violence is the easiest solution, and after the Dominion War there were a lot of Captain's who were eager to find the easiest solution. Following the Mars attacks and Hobeus we saw it too, a quick and simple solution to an awful problem."
He paused to stare up at the sky now, the sun starting to cast its long shadows. "Marines are used to being a violent solution, and we follow our orders to that regard without fail. Whether its counter-insurgency, putting down civil unrest, or rooting out pirates, we are efficient at what we do. We are the bad guy to a lot of people for a reason, and we have to be. Starfleet needs to have its bulldog, and its scapegoat. Our actions wash away the sins of the Fleet, letting it point a finger to an entirely separate command structure and say "Not us". Most people don't know that Marines have their entire division of Engineers and Search and Rescue personnel, dedicated to aiding the Fleet in its worst times. Or at helping at humanitarian crisis. There were Marines on Hobeus until the very end of the Starfleet presence, Marines on Mars fighting fires and dying to save who they could. Marines have been the forefront of most rescue efforts because we are trained to handle a level of stress that few can." He looked back to the Captain. "But we are only ever remembered as the tip of a sword, never the shovel."
"It's like that with Starfleet Captains. Everyone knows Archer, Lorca, Georgio, Pike, Kirk, Picard, Sisko and Janeway. Heros to the Federation, but we also remember Pressman. We remember those who violated everything we as Federation citizens hold dear, and those people?" He pointed to the crowd, "Will remember how you treated them in this moment. Right now they are scared and angry, and they let that get out of control, but tomorrow their egos and their bodies will be bruised, and their leaders will apologize, and you'll be remembered as the Captain that had two fully armed teams at your finger tips, and didn't use them. You'll be remembered as the Captain faced with escalating violence or protecting as many people as you could, you chose to protect people." With another shrug, he pulled free his kneeboard PaDD. "At least, that's what my own report says."
"That's one way to word it." Out came the heavy sigh and a shake of the head as Luka leaned against one of the heavier looking crates. "It's all about perspectives, isn't it?" he mused, waving a hand, "And I can't say I don't appreciate this perception of the situation. Haumea is still in it's construction stages. We hemorrhage senior staff members left and right. Our initial arrival began with an unintended bang. I suppose, all that considered, a few bruised and banged up adults is far better than other damage control we've had to experience."
"Best I can tell, you've done everything to the best of your ability and no one is dead. As General MacTayrn would say "A Fleeter could have fucked it up a whole lot worse." Though I haven't managed to capture the withering glare." He flashed a smile and a wink. "Don't worry too much Cap. General Klans likes Minawara, and as far as I am concerned, that's a win from the Marine side, so he probably won't be too hard. And with all the angry parents, someone will have lodged a complaint, so if it was really that bad, him and his fast ship would already be here, no?"
And that was a fact even Luka could not disagree with. He shook his head. "If I'm worried about anything, it's the children in the caves. I want to know what the hell happened that multiple teams couldn't find whatever had the kids lost. No cave ins? No seismic activity? Even after all this time exploring the stars, you'd think we wouldn't be caught off guard by something like this."
The pilot shook his head and laughed. "You've spent too long on a cozy starship with the luxuries and resources to solve any problem. Things like this happen all the time, every single day. Space is vast, empty and a terrible place to hide odd phenomenon. But a planet? Planets are weird, unforgiving, and always full of small surprises." Thumbing towards the gather support craft, from shuttles to the Albatrosses, to even his own fighter. "All of that technology sitting there, all the abilities to fly blindfolded with a computer at the controls and not even need to touch them - and all pilots have to know how to fly without any of it. Why? Because the unknown happens every day, and you have to be prepared." Once again Shaun stopped, this time turning around to face the cave. "So when the unexpected happened, what did you do?"
"The best I could." Luka ended the sentence with a small sigh. The report would reflect how many teams and of what kind were sent to scour and re-scour not only the reports given, but the caves themselves, as well as the teams who gave the initial reports. Not one person who explored the caves initially meant an ounce of harm, so it was (quite happily) nodded off as an accident before those same teams turned around and started their umpteen scans for the missing party. "Which is what I would have done regardless of the circumstances." Not even Starfleet could have given him that training.
"I'm sure there's a lot of lessons learned from this," Luka pressed on, "Which is exactly what I will be doing, but right now... could have gone worse, right?"
Shaun reached down to his side, drawing a magazine from where it sat - his SERE sidearm had been a projectile weapon as long as he could remember - and slid a single duranium tipped round from the mag, before sliding the small rectangular item in its pouch. The little projectile looked like it belonged to an insect, a sharp point at the front with a tapered body. It was coated in gold except the tip, due to the high conductivity and unlikeliness to rust and reduce the conductivity if it sat in poor conditions. He handed the small projectile over to the Captain and nodded. "That's the only round wasted today," he said plainly. If you looked around, with the exception of the Medics it was the same projectile, in different sizes sure, that all the Marines carried, and the man had been a Doctor first, he could figure out how these worked. "I'd say it could have gone much worse."
Luka turned the small object in his hand. He had seen enough of these, or projectiles utilized for similar purposes, to last him multiple lifetimes. Despite the drudged up memories, his lips quirked into a subtle smirk. "Is it wasted if it's going to serve a purpose?" He asked. "It might not be the intended purpose, but it has one all the same."
"Requires the same amount of paperwork on my end really," he replied with a laugh, "so I guess probably not. Hold onto it, and remember, that there are Captains that would have preferred that option." He was about to walk away when he stopped and pointed to the sky. "Though, I would maybe not word it like that to the people above, they might not see it the same way, or be as fond of that answer..." He finished his turn, giving a wave over his shoulder and disappeared back towards the rest of the Marines.