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NCC-2131 (USS Detmer)
Patrolling the Federation-Rihannsu Neutral Zone, Warp 2.5
Mess Hall
February 16, 2318 (Stardate 139166.3)

Boatswain's Mate Second Class (BM2) Leslie Sutton took her customary seat within the mess hall aboard the Georgiou-class light cruiser USS Detmer. She preferred the table with the least amount of overhead lighting in the corner, far from the bank of replicators. The table, along with the early hour, allowed her to avoid the crowds of enlisted personnel that clogged access to morning meals for the better part of an hour.

When the large double doors leading in from the corridor opened to admit a trio of familiar faces, Sutton grinned. "Hey, morning," she greeted them.

BM2s Michael Kawhena, Bromin, and Xosom waved at her from the replicators. Within a minute, all three carried their trays to sit with Sutton.

"Morning, Les," said Xosom, a Rigellian woman with bright red hair, golden eyes, and an athletically tall build. "Did you get enough sleep?"

Sutton looked down at her meal, allowing her dark brown bangs to fall down and obscure her eyes. "I guess so."

The stocky Bolian petty officer, Bromin, sighed. His luminescent blue skin almost shimmered under the lighting of the hall when he shook his head. "Rol bothering you again?" he asked her, already knowing the answer.

"Not.. directly," she continued to gaze into her breakfast, rather than meeting the eyes of her teammates. "He just called me down to the shuttle bay to inspect the gear."

Kawhena chewed his food slowly as he listened to Sutton explain the reason for her mood. "It wasn't your shift for small craft. It was Chief Loyola's. Why did he call you?"

Xosom scoffed. "Why else?"

"We don't have to talk about it," Sutton told them in a small voice.

"Les," Kawhena said as he placed his fork down on the tray. When she gave him her attention, he continued. "You do not need to put up with his bullying. Have you talked the Chief about it?"

She scowled. "I can handle him. I don't need to go running to the Chief every time someone is mean to me."

Bromin said, "It's more than that. If you want, we'll go with you to tell him."

Xosom agreed with a nod. "We all will."

"Well," Sutton said, softening her tone, "I have been talking with a Chief. During my last TAD in security, Sheriff Taki offered some additional unarmed training and I've been working with her the past few weeks."

The other three shared a grin. "Here we thought maybe you and Taki were enjoying some special private time," Bromin teased.

Xosom slapped Bromin's shoulder. "Don't be a jerk."

"What?" Bromin protested with his raised hands. "What did I say?"

Kawhena wondered, "While you were with Taki, honing your unarmed combat training, did you mention the reason?"

"Reason?" Sutton asked with a shrug.

"Why you were so keen to learn."

She shrunk in her seat. "No."

"Taki wouldn't care about the reason, anyway," Xosom said. "She thinks everyone should know how to defend themselves in case of a boarding action."

Bromin noted, "Right, but if Les had talked to Taki about Rol, then maybe…"

"What?" Kawhena asked Bromin. "Arrest him? You think Taki would really do that?"

"Taki'd go directly to the Gold Ring," Xosom said. "They're pretty tight." Her use of the slang "Gold Ring" referred to the ship's command master chief petty officer, Esumi Benten, the designated Senior Enlisted Member that reported directly to the ship's commanding officer. All designated command senior enlisted wore the gold-ringed rank insignia instead of the usual silver.

Sutton said, "I don't want that. Anyway, it doesn't matter. Last night, after we got done, Rol didn't… I mean, I noticed something-" She paused as the subject of their discussion made his own entry into the mess hall.

When she stopped talking, Kawhena glanced up and peered over his shoulder to see the new arrival. "Ah, shit."

Bromin and Xosom followed suit. Bromin grimaced while Xosom let out a curse in her native tongue.

"Well, well," said Damage Control Technician First Class (DC1) Rol Th'qilres. An Andorian with an intimidating muscular build approached their table with his usual arrogant swagger. "Petty Officer Sutton," he greeted her slowly. "I sincerely hope that I didn't interrupt your much-needed beauty sleep last night by asking you to assist me."

Sutton shook her head. "Not at all," she lied.

"Good, good," Rol said with a shit-eating grin. He stepped behind her and placed his hand on Sutton's right shoulder, squeezing hard. "Very good. Then you won't mind if you assist me tonight with another maintenance project, would you?"

She did not respond.

Rol applied more pressure to her shoulder, causing a wince on the young woman's face.

"Hey!" Kawhena shouted. "Get your hand off her, now!"

"Watch how you speak to me, Boats," Rol snarled. "I outrank you."

"I don't give a shit, Snipe," Kawhena got to his feet as he spoke, dropping his fork atop the table with a loud clatter. "She's in my section and my responsibility. Remove your hand."

Bromin and Xosom also stood up, ready to support Kawhena and Sutton.

Rol, seeing the three hostiles threatening to flank him, raised both hands up in surrender. "Fine, I will play nice."

"And she doesn't have to do shit with you tonight," Kawhena pressed his advantage. "Find some other snipe to help you."

The Andorian offered a friendly smile. "If that's what young Sutton wants. I was merely trying to broaden her professional horizons by helping her to-"

His words were interrupted by Sutton's tray hitting his throat near his collarbone. In a matter of seconds, she forcefully removed her tray, causing her omelet to splatter against the bulkhead. With a firm hold, she unleashed her full might, sending Rol tumbling.

Sutton got to her feet, tray still in hand. The sight of Rol on the deck, unable to move his throat after her attack, brought her great satisfaction. Despite witnessing his struggle to breathe, nobody offered help because of the collective shock of the violent escalation.

Rol attempted to kick her away by lifting his leg and foot, but she evaded the attack and forcefully stomped on his midsection with her sturdy boot. To protect himself, he turned over and gasped, "Wait!"

She expressed her disdain by sneering at him. "'Wait?' What are you telling me to wait for, you jerk?" Suton retaliated by forcefully kicking him in the side. Feeling confident, she closed the distance to deliver another blow, but he surprised her by coming to a kneeling position.

Rol swiftly defended himself by twisting his core and delivering a backhanded blow to her face before she could react.

The backhand struck Sutton's lower jaw. He used his notable strength to propel her backwards into the table; the impact of the edge knocked the breath out of her. Each of them struggled to catch their breath, gripping different areas of their bodies as if it could somehow ease the immense pain.

Sensing the break in the action, Kawhena ordered, "Bromin, call sickbay, now. Xosom, help Sutton." He moved to determine Rol's condition, who had now laid prone on the deck, his arms tucked underneath the weight of his form.

"Sutton?" asked Xosom as she brought the woman to her feet. "Are you all right?"

The injured petty officer tried to open her mouth, but tears streamed from her eyes and moving her jaw caused her sharp spikes of pain running up and down her face, neck, and ears.

Xosom saw the lumpiness of her cheeks. "Oh, shit, Mike. I think he broke her jaw."

Kawhena did not respond, instead continuing to prod at Rol with his hand. "You all right, snipe? Or did you let a little girl knock the shit out of you?" Again, he prodded and added, "Get up."

Sutton moaned through the pain as she clung to Xosom for support. Blood dribbled from her lips as she tilted her head in the other direction.

"The corpsmen are on the way," Bromin said after closing the circuit on the intercom. He looked down at Rol and asked, "Is he okay?"

Kawhena chuckled. "I think she knocked him the fuck out."

Xosom said, "Hey, she needs a doctor. Look."

As both men turned, they witnessed Sutton's bloody mess on the deck. The doors then opened for a junior grade lieutenant and two corpsmen.

Lieutenant (jg) Soni Toer, M.D., took the lead and assessed the situation. Medical tricorder already in her hand, she waved it over Sutton, first. "Mandibular fracture, right shoulder contusion, and an acute spinal cord injury. Immobilize her and get her to sickbay, stat." She shot an angry look at Xosom. "You shouldn't have moved her."

The shorter corpsman took Sutton from Xosom and gently placed her on the gurney. Within seconds, both departed for sickbay.

Doctor Toer had turned to scan Rol Th'qilres. A warning of impending death shrilled loudly from the medical device. "Cardiac arrest. No signs of respiration. Turn him over and begin compressions."

Kawhena assisted the remaining corpsman in rolling the heavy Andorian to a supine position. The doctor broke out another device from her kit. She began attaching the leads to the sides of Rol's forehead.

"Toer to Transporter. Medical emergency. I need a site-to-site transport to sickbay for three," Toer said, after a quick tap of her commbadge. "I've got a patient coding."

The doors parted once more and Master-at-Arms Senior Chief (MACS) Taki and a team of three similarly rated junior non-commissioned officers entered. Taki approached Xosom and asked, "What happened?"

"I don't know exactly," she admitted with a shake of her head. "One minute we were all having breakfast and chatting amongst ourselves, the next, Rol comes in and starts putting his hands on Sutton. She tried to defend herself, and he broke her jaw."

Taki glanced downward at Rol just as he, and the medical team, dematerialized. "And she did that to him?"

In a tone, Xosom sputtered, "No way. She got in a few good licks, but he broke her jaw!"

The senior chief pulled Xosom, Bromin, and Kawhena from the mess hall to clear the immediate area, and they both found themselves in the corridor. Finding a secluded spot, she instructed Xosom to start from the top.

In quiet confines of Detmer's wardroom, Executive Officer R'raia relished her mug of kla'ah; the processed grounds delivered via family members from her homeworld. Since graduating from Starfleet Academy, the Caitian officer spent the entirety of her nine-year career in the Border Service. Beginning from her time as a newly commissioned ensign, she mastered the art of restraining her craving for the creature comforts of home. After reaching a field-grade rank and following her appointment to her current billet, she allowed herself the luxury of enjoying a single mug of her favorite beverage in the morning. The chef prepared and arranged for daily delivery, ensuring freshness using R'raia's personal stores aboard.

While savoring her morning routine, Senior Chief Taki contacted her through the ship's intercom.

"Good morning, Sheriff," Lieutenant Commander R'raia responded with good humor. "How may I assist you on this lovely morning?"

Taki spoke solemnly, "XO, sorry to spoil your mood. Petty Officer Rol Th'qilres died a few minutes ago in sickbay. Doctor Saager has transferred the body to stasis pending a full autopsy."

R'raia set her mug down on the table and sighed. "An accident?"

"No, sir." Taki's contralto responded crisply. "There was a physical altercation in the mess that may have contributed to his death, according to witness accounts so far."

"Are you holding the other person or persons involved?"

"No, sir," Taki repeated. "Our lead suspect, Petty Officer Sutton, is in surgery. Doctor Toer has not yet released her from sickbay."

"Sutton? Leslie Sutton?" R'raia blinked in surprise as she failed to imagine the petite, introverted woman killing an Andorian twice her size. "She killed Th'qilres?"

"Allegedly. We've cordoned off the mess hall and are still gathering evidence. I presume a JAGMAN will be forthcoming."

"Almost certainly. We'll reach out to Starbase Ten, update them, and they'll dispatch a team."

"Understood," Taki said. "My team will be ready to assist them, sir."

"Thank you, Sheriff. I'll handle notifying the Skipper. If there are any developments, please report forthwith," R'raia ordered.

"Aye, sir."

"XO, out." As the circuit closed, she took a long quaff from her mug and tapped on her PADD to call up the commanding officer's present location. She lamented her need to gulp down the rest of her beverage briefly, then set herself to the immediacy of her duty. R'raia returned the empty mug to the bus tray for the ship's stewards and hastily exited the wardroom.

In minutes, she reached her destination and touched the left panel next to the hatch. A muted voice responded from within, "Enter." When the hatch slid open, she complied with the order.

Commander Straat, a tall and wiry dark-skinned Vulcan with dark brown hair and eyes to match, did not turn his head to greet the entrant to his cabin. He wore his botanist's smock over his departmental white turtlenecked shirt and uniform trousers. Before him, a small arrangement of flora and fauna hung underneath a series of specialized lighting. Said plants held his attention as he fed and watered each one meticulously. The lack of visual confirmation of his guest's identity did not prevent him from greeting her properly, "What can I do for you, XO?"

R'raia said without preamble, "Suspicious death reported from the mess hall, Skip. Petty Officer Th'qilres died a few minutes ago in sickbay." She continued with her briefing, including everything disclosed by Taki in their discussion.

Straat immediately paused his ministrations. "An unfortunate incident," he noted in his bassy tones. "Have you informed the Command Master Chief?"

"No, sir, I felt it prudent to inform you first, as the convening authority," she replied, matching his solemn voice.

He turned his head partially and inclined his head. "Thank you. Please notify her presently. I shall contact Starbase Ten and request a field investigation."

"Aye, sir," she said. "I presume we cannot return to the starbase, given our orders."

"Correct," Straat confirmed. "We shall consider our options once the Judge Advocate General Corps responds."

She nodded, forcing a stoic expression. "Logical."

He faced her fully now. She saw only the barest hint of a twitch along his lips that she understood to be his equivalent of a smirk. "I am gratified."

She held no such repression and showed off her canines as she smiled. "A small bit of levity, under the circumstances." She offered thoughtfully, "I have a friend who recently transferred to JAG, but he's assigned to Starbase Eight."

"Given the distance between our present location and Starbase Eight, it is highly unlikely that they would dispatch him," he said as he returned his attention to his plants.

R'raia frowned. "You're probably right, Skip. Still, it would have been nice to see Leo again."