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Welcome to the Jungle

Posted on Wed Aug 2nd, 2017 @ 4:45am by Major Storr Garlake & Captain Kestra Marunis

Mission: S2E1 - Secrets
Location: USS Vindex (Deck 25) - MCO's Office
Timeline: Mission Day 99: 1000

Storr sat at his desk, leaning on his elbows as his fingers steepled and met just under his nose. He had come nearly straight-away following his meeting with the Captain but had only needed a short time to review the reports outlining the departure of his Reman MXO and the arrival of the Bajoran that was taking his place; to say that he was displeased with either would be an understatement. Closing the LCARS interface with a swipe of his fingers, Storr continued the movement to the comm button on the corner of the desk.

=/\= Major Garlake to Lieutenant Marunis, please report to the MCO's office. =/\=

He knew that it would still be a few moments until she arrived so the Afrikaner swiveled to better lean back in the chair, looking up at the 2/5 standard that hung in the center of the wall. That standard had flown on many ships, stations, and planets and the weighty responsibility of maintaining it (and the standards it represents) now fell upon his shoulders. He was no Atlas.

Counselling was never easy, especially the first time that you met, though situations sometimes dictated less-than-optimal scenarios. Swiveling the chair again, he sat up straight and adjusted the cut of his uniform and his hair while facing the door, thanks to the mirror flanking it. Immaculate, as always. As required. As necessary.

"Look Professional...for yourself, for the Corp," he said out loud to himself, reading the gold letters outlined in maroon at the top of the pane. Nothing like a first impression.

Kestra stood outside the MCO's office, Not really caring about the looks the other crewmembers had given her as she'd passed them in the corridor, Infact, She ignored them. She made a quick tug at her uniform, Straightening it until it was absolutely perfect before hitting the door chime.

"Come," the MCO's voice boomed from the office, firm enough to be heard through the door without the standard microphone pickup for the comm box beside it.

Kestra entered the office and stood in front of the desk when she approached it. Standing at attention, She announced, "First Lieutenant Kestra Marunis reporting as ordered, Sir."

Storr nodded and stood, motioning to the only other seat in the small office. "Thanks. Take a seat LT." The MCO waited a moment for his new MXO to take the offer while he remained on his feet. Clasping his hands behind his back, he turned so that he obliquely faced both Kestra and the 2/5 battle standard. He already was an imposing figure but with her sitting and him standing, the size difference was enormous and forced a very large disparity in the power dynamic that he very intentionally desired.

"Welcome to the 2/5, Lieutenant Marunis. I'm sure that you already know our battle cry?"

"I've been told that it's 'Retreat, Hell!', Sir." Kestra answered without missing a beat.

The Major nodded. "That's right," Storr replied, turning his gaze from her to the standard. "We're the most decorated Marine detachment in the fleet and our history goes back over four hundred years to the woods of European earth's first worldwide conflict." He turned back to the Bajoran, looking her in the eyes. "You're going to be my MXO and by the nature of both your rank and position, a leader of men. This is your first posting as a Marine and I've got to say, you haven't started on the right foot. I wish I could chalk it up to inexperience but if you haven't noticed, Starfleet is fighting for its very existence here in the Gamma Quadrant. While we might have room for inexperience, we have no room for a boorish, immature Marine, especially one in a leadership position...your interaction with the outgoing Ensign Ran in the transporter room was exactly the opposite type of interplay you should be having with other Marines, let alone our Fleeter brethren. The synergy and cooperation that is required between the 2/5 and the Vindex crew are absolutely paramount to a cohesive relationship. Without that, we're simply muscle with no place to go in a metal tube full of others who despise us and think us unprofessional in the best of times." Garlake paused, taking a breath and turning back the standard.

DAMN! Kestra silently cursed to herself without saying the actual word aloud, She merely listened to Garlake's speech as he'd continued it.

"Dependability, bearing, courage, decisiveness, endurance, enthusiasm, initiative, integrity, judgment, justice, knowledge, tact, unselfishness, and loyalty...these are leadership traits that I demand from you, traits that the Corp has held for nearly three-quarters of a millennium. I expect no less because I demand the same of myself and I would never hold you to a standard that I cannot attain. We hold ourselves to a higher standard, Lieutenant, because the most important responsibility in the Corp is leading Marines. I'll help guide, teach, and mentor you but if you want to treat this assignment as a simple extension of your Starfleet Academy senior-year hijinks, there's the door," Major Garlake said curtly, cutting his hand towards the opening behind her.

"I don't think I'll need the door--" Kestra began, but was abruptly cut off in mid-explanation.

Garlake nodded. "Don't tell me how good you are, Lieutenant Marunis. Show me. I know you can." With that, the Afrikaner extended his hand and firmly shook the Bajoran's. "Dismissed".

Kestra nodded and with a quick turn on her heels, left the room. Leaving Garlake alone to finish his work, or gather his thoughts. All the while, She was grumbling to herself at her surprise at his knowledge of the altercation she'd had with Ran when she'd gotten off the Vindex's transporter pad.

After the Lieutenant left, Storr exhaled. Discipline was never something that he enjoyed, but it was something that was required. Glancing over Kestra's file again, he put the PADD down; given his new MXO's record, he had a good inclination that it wouldn't be required again.


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