07-19-2024, 02:54 PM
Cassandra must have skipped the part of her command refresher that covered what to do when you truly wanted to hide in your Ready Room and never come out. She'd voiced as much to Admiral Anderson but she'd only gotten an amused look, no sage advice on what she felt was an awkward situation.
In fact, the admiral was being less than helpful in general. They'd spoken twice since she'd begun the recall process and he'd rather skillfully dodged most of her questions. He wouldn't tell her why Coleman hadn't been a suitable CO candidate and actually, he wouldn't answer any of her questions. Usually, he used questions as teaching points but during that first conversation, he'd grated out that she needed to trust him.
It had taken her a moment to recognize the tone and the expression on his face. Whereas he was normally blunt and forthcoming, each answer and statement seemed to be weighed and assessed before coming forth as if he was carefully considering the consequence of every little tid bit he gave her. He was maneuvering, moving pieces around a chess board that only he could see, but to what end, Cass didn't know. What she did feel confident of was that control of Artemis was at stake but who was he racing for it?
That question had sat heavily in her stomach as she worked on launch checklists. She'd spent weeks digging through Artemis and her crew and while she hadn't voice diy or put it in her report, she'd come to the conclusion that Artemis had been the victim of politics. Someone had made Artemis a pawn in a game of chess, or maybe, Artemis had been the prize. She still wasn't certain on that point but someone had gotten exactly what they wanted with the collateral damage, of that she was sure. The question was the committee involved, had they wanted Artemis in more controllable hands so badly that they'd torpedoed the career of one of their most stable commanding officers? It seemed possible, maybe even probably if Cassandra's own presence meant anything.
She's tried to push that aside as she met with Coleman. She wished she had an answer for why he hadn't been considered during the conversation but the commander had seemed more upset on behalf of his former commanding officer than on his own snub. She could appreciate that, even if she had no comfort to offer. He'd been understanding enough, more than she'd expected at least.
But she didn't expect that level of understanding from the crew gathering in the briefing room. In their defense, she doubted she'd have been very understanding of this situation had played out against Captain Huddle or Captain Mghoun.
She took a long sip of her coffee, which might have been more cream than coffee, as she moved across the bridge from the ready room, her steps surer than she felt as she approached the back door to the briefing room. Even having talked to the admiral again --this time wheddling a little more information out of him --, she felt far less than confident in this situation but she didn't need to broadcast that.
As she reached the edge of the door sensor's range, she paused. She quickly ticked through the checklist: her uniform was straight, her dirty blonde hair was swept back into a neat low bun, her boots weren't shined but they were clean, she had her coffee, and she had both PADDs that she'd need.
With that checklist marked off, she stepped forward, letting the doors yawn open before her before stepping in with a decisiveness she didn't feel.
It was no shock that some personnel were already present. There was acting Chief Tactical Officer, a young but capable officer based on his records and Crawford's recommendation. There was the newly minted Chief Science Officer, whose move from security puzzled Cass to no end. There was her minion, who had a rather colorful history based on Cass' study of the Planitia Utopia mission. There was the young engineer, who she believed was seeing Commander Coleman. An unwise decision by Cass' estimates but this ship seemed born of unusual circumstances and decisions. And there was the Chief Medical Officer, who was an anomaly on not one but two fronts. Not only was Mayfair not a doctor but she was an augment; Cass wasn't sure which fact had raised her eyebrows higher.
All the same, Cassandra offered the occupants a smile, not quite warm and certainly reserved, but a smile all the same as she walked to the head of the table and set her cup and PADDs down.
Her eyes skimmed over the room once more, noting that Lieutenant Commander Morgan hadn't finished her task yet it seemed. They were also still waiting on some personnel so there was time.
I should have stayed hidden longer...
In fact, the admiral was being less than helpful in general. They'd spoken twice since she'd begun the recall process and he'd rather skillfully dodged most of her questions. He wouldn't tell her why Coleman hadn't been a suitable CO candidate and actually, he wouldn't answer any of her questions. Usually, he used questions as teaching points but during that first conversation, he'd grated out that she needed to trust him.
It had taken her a moment to recognize the tone and the expression on his face. Whereas he was normally blunt and forthcoming, each answer and statement seemed to be weighed and assessed before coming forth as if he was carefully considering the consequence of every little tid bit he gave her. He was maneuvering, moving pieces around a chess board that only he could see, but to what end, Cass didn't know. What she did feel confident of was that control of Artemis was at stake but who was he racing for it?
That question had sat heavily in her stomach as she worked on launch checklists. She'd spent weeks digging through Artemis and her crew and while she hadn't voice diy or put it in her report, she'd come to the conclusion that Artemis had been the victim of politics. Someone had made Artemis a pawn in a game of chess, or maybe, Artemis had been the prize. She still wasn't certain on that point but someone had gotten exactly what they wanted with the collateral damage, of that she was sure. The question was the committee involved, had they wanted Artemis in more controllable hands so badly that they'd torpedoed the career of one of their most stable commanding officers? It seemed possible, maybe even probably if Cassandra's own presence meant anything.
She's tried to push that aside as she met with Coleman. She wished she had an answer for why he hadn't been considered during the conversation but the commander had seemed more upset on behalf of his former commanding officer than on his own snub. She could appreciate that, even if she had no comfort to offer. He'd been understanding enough, more than she'd expected at least.
But she didn't expect that level of understanding from the crew gathering in the briefing room. In their defense, she doubted she'd have been very understanding of this situation had played out against Captain Huddle or Captain Mghoun.
She took a long sip of her coffee, which might have been more cream than coffee, as she moved across the bridge from the ready room, her steps surer than she felt as she approached the back door to the briefing room. Even having talked to the admiral again --this time wheddling a little more information out of him --, she felt far less than confident in this situation but she didn't need to broadcast that.
As she reached the edge of the door sensor's range, she paused. She quickly ticked through the checklist: her uniform was straight, her dirty blonde hair was swept back into a neat low bun, her boots weren't shined but they were clean, she had her coffee, and she had both PADDs that she'd need.
With that checklist marked off, she stepped forward, letting the doors yawn open before her before stepping in with a decisiveness she didn't feel.
It was no shock that some personnel were already present. There was acting Chief Tactical Officer, a young but capable officer based on his records and Crawford's recommendation. There was the newly minted Chief Science Officer, whose move from security puzzled Cass to no end. There was her minion, who had a rather colorful history based on Cass' study of the Planitia Utopia mission. There was the young engineer, who she believed was seeing Commander Coleman. An unwise decision by Cass' estimates but this ship seemed born of unusual circumstances and decisions. And there was the Chief Medical Officer, who was an anomaly on not one but two fronts. Not only was Mayfair not a doctor but she was an augment; Cass wasn't sure which fact had raised her eyebrows higher.
All the same, Cassandra offered the occupants a smile, not quite warm and certainly reserved, but a smile all the same as she walked to the head of the table and set her cup and PADDs down.
Her eyes skimmed over the room once more, noting that Lieutenant Commander Morgan hadn't finished her task yet it seemed. They were also still waiting on some personnel so there was time.
I should have stayed hidden longer...