Posted by Warrant Officer Jacen “Flex” Flexwood (Security Officer/Special Forces Division) in Anger and Accountability…Flexing ones muscles…When the past doesn’t match the future or the present

Posted by Captain Kelly Bordeaux (Commanding Officer) in Anger and Accountability…Flexing ones muscles…When the past doesn’t match the future or the present
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Bordeaux Quarters 0830 hours
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“I told you I am not going,” Jessa echoed through the door with the volume and pitch only mastered by tween girls taking a stand. The transition from sickbay to their quarters was proving more difficult than Ian or Kelly assumed. The small measure of privacy afforded to Jessa by gaining a bedroom had allowed her to withdraw farther from everyone. This was the last thing Ian and Kelly needed.

As Flex approached the quarters he could hear a voice piercing the relative quiet of the corridor. He paused a moment outside the door listening to see how it would play out.

“Fine then you both can sit here and have a staring contest. I don’t care,” Ian pulled on a uniform boot. While Ian was not one to jump willingly onto a therapist’s couch, he also didn’t ignore solid counsel. “I have a meeting from 0830 to 1100 hours,”

“What the triff does that mean? No one is in a meeting for eleven hours,” Jessa snapped. She barely had a grasp on the Federation numerical system and the PaDD containing the preschool information with the dancing pencil as a guide had never mentioned anything about hours and time past being a unit of measure.

Grabbing a clock, they had replicated with an old-fashioned face, Ian pointed out the numbers. “It is not eight to eleven hours but three hours. Eight, nine, ten, eleven.” Rinker had spent an inordinate amount of time explaining that while Jessa was extremely bright, the gaps in her knowledge base were massive when it came to Federation basics. His advice was to counter her tantrums with a calm tone and plenty of patience. Given clear expectations along with clear boundaries to increase her trust in him and Kelly. Jessa had minimal surprises in her day-to-day routine. When something was altered, Ian, Kelly, and the few people with direct access to her prepared her well in advance even when it was met with resistance. So far it was working but a Sisyphean task at times. “You are going with Mr. Flexwood from 8:30 until 10. At ten he will take you to Rinker’s. I will be in the lobby as always waiting for you when you are done.”

“I don’t need a babysitter,” she rolled her eyes.

Having lingered long enough, Jacen reached out and pressed the door chime.

“Oh you absolutely need a babysitter,” Ian countered taking a drink of his coffee as the door chimed.

Moving across the space he opened the door and got his first look at Warrant Officer Jacen Flexwood. Extending his hand, Ian shook Jacen’s in a far more informal manner than might be expected.

Ian Bordeaux and Jessa Novar

Jacen shook the offered hand and he surveyed the man who just opened the door before looking past him at the young lady who was clearly not thrilled about her time being appointed to spend with him. “Good morning Commander.” Jacen said as his eyes returned to Ian. There had been rumblings around the ship that the Diplomatic Officer had recently learned the child standing behind him was his daughter, though the stories also indicated that the girl wasn’t aware of that fact. Armed with that knowledge and looking closely Jacen felt that he could see a certain familial resemblance but he was fully aware that his mind could just be making that up since the brain liked coherent narratives.

“Call me Ian,” he corrected Jacen. “I know you are new here but we don’t tend to stand on rank or file much unless we are on duty and even that at times it’s iffy. Come in, come in,” he gestured. While Jacen Flexwood wasn’t part of the command staff in the traditional staff, the fact Kelly picked him for this assignment indicated he was going to be closer than most to the Bordeaux’s at least in the short term. Ian had an easy way about him and the only tension Jacen might perceive originated from a third party source.

“Pleased to meet you si…” He caught himself and corrected, “Ian.” It was clear in only the first few words they exchanged why Ian was the Chief Diplomatic Officer. The man was smooth and had a relaxed air about him. Hell he’d probably run for office one day.

“Care for some penthouse coffee,” Ian cracked a smile moving to the kitchen-type area. The space had a definite home feel much like her office only less eclectic in its decor. It mimicked the nautical feel with blues and tans along with images of alien oceans, ships, and family on the walls. Even though she was the captain, the room felt more like a place one flopped into chairs and propped their feet up on the coffee table.

“Kelly told me about your comment,” Ian chuckled. “Humor is a plus when dealing with her.”

Flex cracked a smile at the penthouse statement. “No thank you. I’m ok for now.” It was a strange feeling listening to Ian speak so casually about the captain, they were married… it made perfect sense, yet it felt strange actually hearing it.

Turning his attention to the girl now, Jacen introduced himself. “Hello Jessa, my name is Jacen Flexwood. You’re welcome to call me Jacen, though many people choose to call me Flex and that’s perfectly acceptable too.” He didn’t make any move to get closer to her, remaining just outside the door. If he was going to build any kind of rapport with this young woman, he felt that it was more likely to get started by respecting her personal space.

Flex

Jessa looked him up and down not saying anything or returning the greeting. “So it is a requirement everyone is at least your height, good-looking, and built for the front lines of combat?” Her comment was laced with sarcasm and valid observation. In the security field, few people were five feet tall and a buck twenty wet. Security was by nature a physical job and required controlling people.

“Be nice,” Ian shot Jessa a look and turned to Jacen. “Yes that is Jessa and she is oh so excited about meeting you.” It would be clear humor was something both Ian and his wife shared.

“Thrilled,” she responded to Ian more than Jacen.

“Be nice? Didn’t you hear her, she thinks I’m good looking. Everyone needs such a stroke to their ego first thing in the morning. Thanks!” Flex said, the humor in his voice obvious as he looked at Ian.

“Ugh even your personalities are issued,” Jessa groaned with the annoyed tone mastered by tween girls and mother-in-laws.

As if to punctuate her enthusiasm at the situation, Jessa touched her neck raising her armor. If Jacen had not seen it before, it was an impressive site. The armor seemed to originate at a disk from her neck, spreading out in overlapping scales as it if had the viscosity of a liquid. The speed at which she transformed from a little girl to a metal monstrosity was almost blinding.

Below the playful banter, Jacen’s eyes analyzed the young woman’s transformation from an annoyed pre-teen to a hulking mass of metal straight out of an old Earth comic book. The tech was every bit as impressive as it was intimidating.

Jacen would notice the thinly veiled irritation by Ian’s clenched jaw and tension at the corners of his eyes but Ian’s voice remained casual. Turning to Jacen, Ian rolled his eyes. “So Kelly said she told you to drop her at Rinker’s by ten. If she gets out of the metal suit you can turn on the holovision, go to the gym, whatever. The transporter has a lock on that signature so if it enacts it beams her back here.” The look Ian gave Jacen indicated the last part was probably not true but since they had not had any alone time it was probably a ploy to keep Jessa in check. “Good luck,” Ian patted Jacen on the back like they were old friends and walked out of the room, “you are gonna need it.”

Jessa and Ian

“Thanks Ian. We’ll be fine.” Jacen said nonchalantly. As the door slid shut behind him, once again Jacen returned his attention to the young woman. “So are you going to stand there fully armored up so that this legitimately becomes babysitting duty… or are you going to power that thing down so that I can play tour guide instead?” Jacen asked casually. His demeanor was relaxed as if he didn’t mind either way.

“Because honestly… I was joking when I called this the penthouse… but compared to the shoebox that enlisted folk are stuck in… I wasn’t wrong… It won’t hurt my feelings to hang out in the swankiest room on the ship.”

Flex

“Rule of three,” she commented through a voice that was slightly tinny coming from the speakers. “Three minutes of air, three days without water, and three weeks without food. Power is not my main concern.” Her comment was meant to impart how powerful she was. Jessa understood the strength she had in the suit and it was obvious she wanted Jacen to be impressed or at least wary. The problem with her bravado was it often revealed a weakness instead of intimidation. If they didn’t know before, they now would know the specs on how long one could be bottled up in the tin can. Her immaturity and inexperience in tactics shown as bright as if it has a spotlight on it.

Touching her neck, Jessa took down the armor. It was not that she felt comfortable but more a demonstration of how fast she could enact it. Biting her lip, Jessa didn’t know what to say. Her gut and her mission needed her to scout out the ship, gain intelligence about the crew, and find the Prism. Her common sense told her leaving the safety of this room was best for her health. “I have had a tour of the ship before. It didn’t work out so great and that was when people liked me. I had to perform a cleansing to get away from the large green man. Even then he refused to take me back to Rinker or sickbay.” Jessa had a hostile look on her face but Jacen had probably been in enough hostage situations long enough to recognize something else. While she was in no way a hostage, it was clear Jessa was on edge and nervous about the idea of leaving this room. “How do you know Ian,” she asked.

Jessa