AT/D13 - Security Complex

[Tyra Crawford]

== The Security Complex is an extensive facility that houses all the needs for the ship’s Security personnel. Training Areas, Shooting Range, and Armory are some of the larger features. The Chief of Security’s Office is located along with a few other small offices and interview rooms. There is a sizable Lounge and Rest Area that is permeated with the aroma of coffee, even in emergencies. There is also a Locker Room with refreshment facilities, a Briefing Room, and an area for communications exchange usually referred to as ‘Dispatch’. Finally, the Brig area features several holding cells, with most designed for multiple occupancy with bunk beds, refreshment stations, and an ever-present forcefield when in use. A couple cells are designated for single occupancy only, when isolated or protective custody is needed. The brig area is overwatched by a few desk terminals occupied by security personnel at all times when detainees are present. ==

[Mara Calleja]

== Morning of the launch ==

Historically, Mara was very much not a morning person. Her natural rhythm ran much later than others and she was normally still active long after dark. But after all of yesterday’s drama, she just flat hadn’t been able to sleep. Having snatched a couple of hours in amongst constant tossing and turning, she’d given up. That was why, as the ship chronometer ticked past 0600, she was hard at work dealing with her department’s admin having already powered through her morning workout and showered. Her tunic hung from the back of her chair as she cooled off a little in the black tank top she normally wore underneath.

There had been a few changes to the way Security ran under Calleja’s nascent leadership. She’d stepped up the drills dramatically. Pretty much everyone was going through 2 sims daily, 1 on the offensive on a variety of enemy vessels and hostile planets, and 1 on the defensive holding Artemis against attackers. It had caused a lot of grumbling but the COS had been relentless in her attempts to increase tactical awareness, physical fitness and the ability to work in teams. She had put herself through the same simulations both as a leader for the Artemis crew and taking charge of the efforts to test them, earning respect for her sharp tactical mind just as much as her prodigious physical fitness.

It wouldn’t have surprised anyone to know that Mara was also trying to build a culture of openness. Questions were encouraged, new ideas welcomed and honest feedback given. Her department were still getting used to this. Freedom to speak was not freedom from consequences for point-scoring or trying to grandstand. There had been a couple of incidents where officers had tried to change a plan at the last minute and torpedoed a drill, earning themselves Mara’s wrath. And whilst she had been happy to discuss most things, so far nobody had had the courage to bring up ‘fight night’. Her hostile views on martial arts, boxing and sparring were very well known and there hadn’t yet been anyone willing to try and champion the ship’s boxing tradition.

Mara had also put her own stamp on the Chief of Security's office. Most noticeable was the jacked up desk, set to be comfortable for her 6’2” height, and high-end coffee machine set up on a table just outside that she had procured and provisioned with Support’s help and paid for out of her own pocket.

One of the office’s walls was given over to lauding the department. Every time one of her crew earned a promotion, medal, citation or anything else, a copy went up on the office wall. There were also scoreboards showing the best scores and times in drills, and team photos of the best performers. It was becoming a badge of honour to have your name up there in lights.

The wall opposite was given over to reminders of what Mara and the others fought for. There were pictures of Bandar City back home, showing both its dirty underbelly and the brutalist magnificence of the governmental Spire building at night. Her parents featured in others, along with a collage of the sparse few images she had of her sister from before her untimely death. She’d let the shift leaders add their own images, places they found special and beautiful, some with loved ones in. It was an eclectic collection but the COS found the effect inspiring.

Sending off her feedback on the recent round of performance reviews, Calleja levered herself to her feet and moved to the coffee machine, a used mug in her hand. She loaded in a particularly strong Colombian blend that she had started to enjoy and set the fire engine red device going. There were some faint cracks and pops as she stretched out her back and shoulders, and then she leant against the office door frame as her cup was filled.

I’m still not used to my name bein’ over that door she thought with a faint smile. Never thought I’d ever actually make it. An’ I probably came really really close to losin’ it yesterday. But here I am. Bandaran street trash to Chief of Security, USS Artemis. Kuik was right. I need to let myself enjoy that more than I do.

A faint chime indicated that her coffee was ready, and Mara wandered back to her desk cradling the freshly brewed drink like it was an elixir of life. She settled back down in the chair and leant back, boots on the desktop as she took a sip.

== As for whom the bell will toll… ==

[Tyra Crawford]

== 0615 ==

Tyra's steps, solid and sure in her early morning journeying, faltered ever so slightly as she caught sight of the doors to Artemis' security office. Truth be told, Tyra wasn't exactly certain she had the time or emotional fortitude for this particular task but it felt necessary, something that needed to be righted before it slipped through her fingers.

She let herself waver for a second under the guise of taking a hearty sip of coffee, the warm notes of cinnamon and nutmeg causing her shoulders to relax just a fraction. It seemed that her trek into DS9 for real coffee had been worth it, even if it had spurred her out of her quarters earlier than necessary.

Not that it had impacted her sleep any, what little she'd gotten. She didn't think falling asleep at her desk while talking to Thomas counted as restful sleep but the fact that her husband had managed to settle her nerves enough for even that little nap to be possible should have qualified him for sainthood, among numerous other qualities.

Regardless of the lack of sleep, she felt more in control and certainly looked more like a decorated captain now than a haggard traveler stumbling in from an unfortunate journey. Her hair was woven nearly into a braid that hung over her shoulder easily at it's current length; her uniform was perfectly pressed, even if the jacket was currently hanging open for comfort. Her skin was back to it's sunkissed hue with faint freckles peaking out instead of dominating her pale skin and her eyes, previously the window to her conflict, easily hid the turmoil under a sharpness that was familiar and steady.

There was still plenty of conflict and turmoil to hide from view. Her conversation with Bill, while enlightening and insightful, hadn't fixed anything, other than temper her anger with the older man. She was still angry that the choice had been taken from her but she understood the lay of the board, what he had seen that she hadn't and how that had pushed him to make the moves that he had. She understood that he had acted in the best interest of Artemis and in his mind the Fleet, trying to protect Artemis from vultures when it became apparent that Coleman was on a sinking ship, and she knew he had felt that was a conclusion she wouldn't have been capable of abiding. He was probably right and fortunately, it was theory that wouldn't need to be tested ... yet.

And that was partly what had her walking into the security office at the crack of dawn. If there was any hope of keeping Artemis intact come what may, she needed everyone's cooperation and she needed everyone on the same page. That included headstrong and overly opinionated Chiefs. Having been one at one time, she was hopeful she could make some headway before the launch began in earnest.

Fortunately, the office was quiet with most personnel not due back for another 45 minutes but she didn't miss the look the watch officer sent her, though whether it was due to her presence aboard Artemis after her removal or the mere fact the captain was visiting the department this early was anyone's guess.

She made note of the changes to the space between Miller's departure and Calleja's promotion, nodding her approval to the new chief making it her own place, before she hit the chime to the Chief's office. She could still feel the watch officer's eyes on her as she waited so she busied herself with another sip of coffee.

Did I forget my scythe? He's staring at me like I'm the Grim Reaper...

== Tag ! ==