Life of an Exhausted Diplomat, Pt II

Posted on 11/18/2020 @ 6:55pm by Captain Cian D'Anvers

Mission: S3E1: Time of Change
Location: Palais du Concord, Earth
Timeline: Day 87 at 2335

Desperate sighs of exhaustion found themselves strangulated beneath his throat as the cream material flexed into a heavy, uncomfortable breath. Seventy-two hours into his current shift and Kieran could hardly begin to recall the last proper moments he'd spent in his actual office. Or bed for that matter. Come to think of it, the man hadn't been anywhere near the area where he'd set his quarters up. Sure he'd been given his pick of the lot, and selected quite a nice loft overlooking the bay north of France. Perhaps that was his first mistake. He dread to even begin pondering over the others, wondering if taking up his current post was one.

Ever since he'd taken up the call for the adjutant role, his life had become nothing but a whirlwind of activity. He missed Sherlock, only too thankful that he actually had an assistant come with the job. An entire department of them for that matter. Even still, it left no room for breathing, nor much of anything for a personal life. Not that he ever had one to begin with. Truthfully he'd lived vicariously for years, and had only begun to exemplify that as of late.

The slimmest notions of pastimes were clung to as he listened to the chatter feed of his subordinates in their meetings. At least they had a personality, which he couldn't always say for the outward appearance of politicians. He knew it was part of the job. They were people too; few just ever actually demonstrated it once the bureaucracy hit. It was likely the moment one entered the council chamber, the cold faces went on. He knew. He'd experienced it. Thousands of times at this point. It was more than a daily occurrence, and it still got to him.

He loved the prospect and mission the Diplomatic Corps stood for. He really did. From the first glimpses back with his mentor, out to his role as the aide de camp for Pacifica's Federal Diplomatic Corps satellite. Those were all enjoyable. His brief stint aboard the Crazy Horse was...different. Not at all what he'd anticipated, but in the least it wasn't wholly life-sucking.

You could never expect politics to move quickly though. Patience was a must, and had to be a given trait for anyone. He was only too thankful that he had a few ounces of it. More than, by this point given the project he'd stood in charge of. At first he'd thought it was madness, falling underneath the hammer and anvil of the council. Surely an operations officer would have been better.

No -- it had never been the case, given the demands laid behind an tiring number of member worlds, and the expectations of countless others...it was a politics job. Naturally. Thank goodness for subject matter experts. He'd have been lost in the numbers, were he to get through it alone.

He'd been allocated a beautiful suite near the Palais, where he frequented more often than not. At this point it more or less had become his office, superceding that of the one at the Federation's Diplomatic Corps headquarters. It wasn't all bad. Clean air, soothing ambience and the people were a fresh breath compared to the stuffiness of the behemoth in the local vicinity. The Capitol of the Federation herself.

His comm-badge chirped, already beginning to read out before he could tap the damned thing. "Kieran, you're scheduled to interview the next candidate for the project."

"Thank you, Elo Ahn. What are we up to now?"

"Forty six, sir. The second of those currently on Earth." He sighed audibly, rising from the bench he'd placed himself. Treading in from the balcony he looked for the nearest replicator. "You may be interested in this one. You actually know him." That caught his attention. He'd encountered a vast sea of officers, more senior than the latter, but few enough that he could say that he knew beyond a cursory glance. Not that he had to act as such. They expected you to know everything about them, and be up-to-date with their current needs.

"Alright. You have my attention," he grimaced, bracing himself as he leaned against the wall. Hot ichor bubbled in the mug which had been dispensed as he looked over at an all-too-cheerful serving of tea. Grasping it, he waited.

"Cian D'Anvers. Captain. USS Crazy Horse." Elo Ahn's statement was punctuated as she clicked the line off, his PADD already reading a connection address which had been sent over. He blinked, blindly. Yes, he'd encountered the man. Even spoke with him...briefly. But he wouldn't have gone so far as to say he knew him. That was a bit presumptuous, given he'd barely spent any time at all on the ship.

The things he did for everyone else...

Eight minutes later he'd finally managed to secure a debriefing room after a lengthy deliberation between visiting counsellors against that of the executives' demands. After encouraging them to relocate to a more scenic establishment at a nearby eatery, he'd finally gotten the room to himself. Getting a free space was hardly an easy arrangement in these parts, even more so to get everything to line up.

He sat down at the desk, wishing that he could have done this at his own. Little more than a few strokes of his finger later, a holographic terminal rose from the surface. "Cian D'Anvers. Captain, USS Crazy Horse," he requested groggily as he tightened his collar, waiting for the connection to establish.

Reading in his quarters, or trying to anyway, with thoughts of the impending court martial uppermost in mind, Cian walked over to the desk and dropped down. Dressed in a soft white pullover and loose-fitting drawstring pants, he marked his page as he completed the connection. "D'Anvers here," he said as he set the volume, a fifteenth century Chinese novel called "Journey to the West," to one side and waited.

Kieran had been ever too glad it hadn't taken long for the connection to be reached on the other end. His focus briefly cast over to the clock underneath the moonlight shining into the office he'd abducted. "Good evening, captain," the diplomat opened. "I apologise for the late hour. I'm calling on behalf of the President and Federation Council. Is now a good time?" The point of the question was moot; he knew it, but still didn't enjoy asking it any more. Rather he dreaded it. Anyone with enough sense knew well you didn't refuse the call of either office, unless you wanted to leave your career out to hang. It was drilled into you at the academy. Even still, niceties be damned, the faux courtesy was the least of gestures one could offer.

"Of course," Cian said. A million possibilities left unsaid. Politicians and bureaucrats tended to think of themselves as the center of the universe which meant dancing attendance regardless of the hour. "What did you need?"

Little more than a faint nod came from Kieran in due silence. "I appreciate your openness. Please hear me out when I say I have no pleasure in calling at this hour. I did however figure best to give you heads up." Drumming his fingers, Kieran pulled his PADD over, reading over the information which had been sent his way regarding the man he was speaking to.

"In less than a day's time, you're going to be summoned in front of the Council for your own defence. My office and I are in the process of interviewing for that specific reason, to help ready individuals being called forth. While I am not at liberty to discuss it further over the comm, if you are open to it I can arrange for a debrief to help prepare you for the matter." Formalities aside, the diplomat put the document in his drawer.

"My defense," Cian repeated. Should have known. I should have known. "Should I retain the services of a lawyer," he asked.

"If I may be honest, a lawyer would make no difference in the matter. They likely wouldn't even let them in the chamber. Previous individuals were only admitted by themselves."

"Debrief it is then," Cian said. "When did you want to meet?"

"I'm free in about an hour, if that works. Otherwise, if you prefer rest, you can risk it and wait until morning. Your choice, but I'll come to you, to save you time."

"An hour it is then," Cian said. "I'll be waiting. D'Anvers out." After notifying the bridge that Lieutenant Nachtgeist would be coming aboard, Cian rose from the desk and headed into the bathroom. There would be time for a shower, a fresh uniform, and possibly a cup of coffee before the meeting where, hopefully, he'd get a better understanding of what was happening.

[One Hour Later]

He was back in his Ready Room when he got the announcement that Lieutenant Nachtgeist had come aboard and headed toward his Ready Room. He put Journey to the West aside and waited. It hadn't taken long for the dreaded chirp to wail above his door, signalling that his expected informant had arrived. Upon the opposite side of the wall, the blond had been standing with a mug in one hand, a pair of PADDs in the other. Patient as he was, the white-collar held clear signs of exhaustion as he waited for the door to open.

Returning to the Crazy Horse was not something Kieran had admittedly planned or expected. Then again, nor had he ever planned to be recalled to Earth. The entire happenings of the past few months were littered with the unexpected. Only time would tell what would come of it, unfortunately.

"Enter," Cian said as he rose to greet his former Chief. Exhaustion wrapped in mystery and a late-night visit. "Welcome. I'd offer you something to drink but it looks like you came prepared." Cian gestured toward one of the guest chairs in front of his desk. "Have a seat. You look like you need it." He moved over to the replicator and ordered himself a cup of coffee, French Roast this time. "So, what's going on?"

Strides measured beneath the diplomats foot were heavy and ungraceful, not at all typical to his norm despite having the background as a marine. He took the offered seat with the simple raise of his mug and a glum smile. "Duly appreciated, captain." He looked to the door, waiting until it closed. "I apologise for the hour, no doubt you are, or were busy. Most likely sleeping. That aside, politicians will be themselves." Placing one of the dockets onto the surface in front of him, he slid it over to the man. "You've been marked and summoned by the Council. Please consider this your official notice, if earlier wasn't enough."

The younger man sighed, taking a long swig of the contents from his beverage. "With respect, what I am about to place before your knowledge cannot leave this room. Some, if not all of the premise is enough to cause stirs within the Federation itself."

"Alright," Cian said as he returned to his seat and took a moment to peruse the document, sipping coffee as he did so. It didn't seem to him that the man had profited by his abrupt departure from the ship but then, you never about people or the choices they made. Recent events had certainly reinforced that idea in his mind. "So, please continue."

Given the faintest bob of his head as confirmation, Kieran spoke frankly. "When I was recalled to Earth, it wasn't willingly. That said, it did open my eyes to something that may peak your interest. Something the many believe the Federation lost its way from. I'm currently responsible for quite possibly the largest exploration initiative being constructed." He paused, pulling his chair underneath him more comfortably. "As you can imagine...not all the member worlds agreed due to the allocation of the resources, despite the idea coming from the President themselves."

He paused, glancing out the window before returning his focus to the captain. "You're probably wondering how this involves you. More importantly what you're defending yourself for." Laying his own tablet on the desk, the diplomat folded his palms. "The Council has identified you, among a number of others as a potential candidate to lead the new vessel I spoke of. I'm in the process of conducting interviews to prepare you for what can only be described an an interrogation. More or less they're going to ask you, regardless if you're interested or not, why you should be selected. And please believe me when I say, if you don't know how politicians work...they'll use every opportunity they have to strike you down."

"So, they identify me as a candidate and then call me in to what will be a hostile interview," Cian said with a slight shake of his head. "It boggles the mind. I am assuming here, and please, correct me if I'm wrong, that I have to go into this blind and that I won't know any pertinent details until I've been accepted for the position." He took a sip of coffee, thinking about this kernel of information, and finally nodded. "Alright. I'm willing. If nothing else, it will be an interesting, if grueling, experience. Let's get to work, shall we?"

A Post by:

Captain Cian D'Anvers
Commanding Officer
USS Crazy Horse

and

Captain Kieran T. Nachtgeist
Presidential Adjutant to the Federation Council