Prelude to a Jobsworth
Posted on Mon Nov 11th, 2024 @ 7:17pm by Commander Onofron Zuir
1,329 words; about a 7 minute read
Mission:
New Crew, New Mission
Location: USS Colace
Timeline: 2397
For Ono, it had been a surprisingly quiet few days since he'd arrived to the USS Colace. Onboarding had been both pleasant and frustrating in the typical fashion. Most departments seemed adept at minimizing optimal performance by allowing ship systems and processes belonging to other departments to run themselves. But when an officer in another department began shirking duties because Science was picking up the slack? Well, that was unacceptable.
What made it worse was the Operations Chief couldn't or wouldn't demonstrate the command presence to make the wayward officer go above and beyond. Damned nepotism struck again.
When Ono finally found the rookie playing hooky, he was sitting at the bar, a drink on his left and his PADD on his right, holo-display disabled to ensure no-one could get a look at what he was doing. "Take a holograph, it'll last longer," he drawled without looking to see who was standing over his shoulder.
"Mister Jellico," said Ono in a very authoritarian voice from right behind him. "I might have looked for you here sooner, except that I wanted to give a man of your pedigree the benefit of the doubt when it comes to..." He sniffed. "... tomfoolery." That was patently untrue. Ono loathed nepotism and relished every opportunity to punish it. He didn't care who this upstart ensign's grandfather was.
"Man, my shift ended half an hour ago," said the young ensign. "Can we talk about...whatever this is later?"
"No." Ono's eyes were bulging, and despite the calm tone of his voice, there was still a compelling sense of urgency that hit like a gale. "We will talk. Now."
The young Jellico sighed. "I mean how did you even find me? I left my combadge in my quarters..."
"You have an impacted colon," Ono said in a droll tone, his lips pulled back like he was sucking on a lemon. "A computer expert might be able to spoof the internal sensors, but no one can hide their biological trail from someone trained in their management." It was a uniquely peculiar boast, but Ono's face was so arrogant on the matter it made him appear even more droll than he sounded. "I spent my junior officer years in sanitation reclamation, Mr. Jellico, so believe me when I negate your belief that your shit does not stink." Leaning forward, chin to shoulder, Ono whispered, "It does." Stepping back into his own space, Ono concluded, "I hope you're prepared to defecate into your hand and clap it into its constituent particles because that is what it's going to take for you to shirk your duties on my watch."
The ensign's eyebrows flew up towards his hairline as he let out a laugh he couldn't hold in. "So what you're saying is you know your shit," he chuckled, stuck somewhere between respect for command and wanting to get the hell away from whoever this new Chief Science Officer was. "That's...uh, great. I'll just be going..." He slid off the stool and did his best not to run toward the door.
"Mister Jellico," said Ono with the annoyance of a schoolmarm and the indignation of a boot camp drill instructor. "You were not dismissed."
Ensign Jellico paused but did not turn around. Annoyance practically radiated from him. "What's your point?"
"My point," Ono said, walking after Jellico, "is that you had better familiarize yourself with the Uniform Code of Starfleet before I beat you with it." Hands on his hips, he said, "You will address a superior officer as 'sir' at all times and you will not leave unless dismissed."
The ensign turned over his shoulder, took one look at Ono's deadass stare, and let his fretful frown turn into a smirk. He resumed his exit strategy. After a moment, though, he slammed right into a forcefield.
"We could have done this in the brig," Ono said, huffing ever so slightly as he caught up with the ensign, "but since you decided to show public insubordination, I asked myself, 'Why not do this right here?'"
Having caught up just a few steps down the corridor, Ono dropped from a trot into a measured pace that flaunted deliberate, high-stepping paces that encircled the field's confinement.
"What am I to do with an insubordinate junior officer?" Ono asked rhetorically as he continued his slow circling.
Random passersby shot them both assorted looks ranging from shocked to confused to decidedly oblivious to whatever was happening. One way or another, the foot traffic diverted around the forcefield that took up the middle of the corridor.
"Hey, let me go!" Jellico shouted. He tapped his combadge but it beeped at him with a connectivity issue. He knew not to hit the forcefield, so he pled with others. "Someone get me out of here!"
"We're in the final frontier, you know," Ono said, paying no heed to the various people who did their best to avoid collision with him while he continued circling the forcefield. "In the old days of voyaging, upstart crew members were summarily ejected from airlocks without so much as a trial." Breaking stride in order to lean in to face the forcefield, Ono said, "Without a trial, Mr. Jellico! Can you believe such barbarity?" he asked with a rueful chuckle and an incredulous shake of his head. Falling back into his pacing without giving Ensign Jellico the chance to answer, Ono's imperious diatribe went on with no signs of stopping.
"Now, there remains nonjudicial discipline available to commanding officers in our more civilized times. We use words, Mr. Jellico, to express our displeasure, to administer punishment, to cajole wayward crew members toward proper conduct." He stared for a moment, measuring the ensign, before going on. "Nonetheless, Captain's Mast, the rank and file call a commanding officer's nonjudicial discipline, is a callback to the barbaric origins of nautical tradition."
Tired of pacing, he looked at Ensign Jellico with an intense facial expression that belied his droll vocal inflection. "Need I go into graphic detail about the sodomy-driven consequences of being strapped to the captain's mast of an ancient human sailing vessel for summary discipline, or can we agree that from now on protocol will be adhered to in the law and letter on this ship?"
"S-s-sodomy?!" Jellico gasped in shock and horror. "You're going to sodomize me because I failed to call you 'sir' after you tried to give me more work to do?"
"Sodomize you?" Ono scowled in nauseous confusion. He waved his hand in utter dismissal of such a preposterous notion. "What in the... no, Mr. Jellico, and I will thank you to keep your 'kinks' to yourself. You will also watch your language when addressing a superior officer. You will receive a negative letter in your personal file. Do not court another." His glare held Jellico's gaze as he said, "Computer, drop forcefield."
As the computer warbled its acknowledgement, Ono leaned directly into the ensign's face. "I am watching you, Mr. Jellico. Never forget." He shook his head in understated motions that were both emphatic and livid. "Never forget." With that, Ono stepped back, certain that his message had been received. "Never," he said in a final whisper.
After Ensign Jellico quickly confirmed he was indeed free from the forcefield, he blatantly ran away with a look of horror on his face. Ono just stared with wide-eyed intensity as he backed into a nearby turbolift. As the doors closed, his face split with a grim smirk. Yes, this was going to be one for future training manuals.
"... and it is for this reason that I am administering the aforementioned Article 15 nonjudicial punishment upon Commander Onofron Zuir.
ULFRIC GUNNARSSON, CAPTAIN, USS COLACE
P.S. I was told by Admiral Shelby that Zuir would clean up the ship after the unfortunate business with the viral outbreak, but so far he is only creating entirely new messes. I'm putting in for a replacement at the next port."
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