Chapter Text
NCC-2131 (USS Detmer)
Patrolling the Federation-Rihannsu Neutral Zone, Warp 2.5
February 25, 2318 (Stardate 139232)
Office 4-S07
Chief Saego was the first to speak. "Walk us through what happened that morning, please." Seated across from their witness, she glanced at the PADD in her hand, ready to take notes. "Remember to only speak from your perspective."
Reter, sitting beside her, kept his piercing yellow eyes fixed on the Boatswain's Mate. His expression remained neutral, but there was a watchful intensity in his gaze.
BM2 Michael Kawhena gave a sharp nod. "Aye, Chief. We were all having breakfast in the mess, just like a hundred times before. That’s when Rol came in—"
"Rol," Reter interrupted, his voice calm but direct, "That’s Damage Control Technician First Class Rol Th'qilres, correct?" He leaned forward slightly, prompting for the record.
"Yes, Major," Kawhena confirmed with a sharp nod. "He approached us without even going to the replicator. We were talking about last night's shift, and then he moved in behind Sutton."
Chief Saego leaned forward, her tone steady but insistent. "Describe Boatswain's Mate Second Class Leslie Sutton's mood at the table before Petty Officer Th'qilres arrived. Was she upset or distraught?"
Kawhena frowned, considering the question. "Well... she was tired, understandably so. Rol called her in the middle of the night to inspect gear on one of the shuttles. She wasn't on duty, nor was she on call. Chief Loyola was the NCO he should have—"
Saego lifted her hand, stopping him mid-sentence. "Let's keep to the questions for now. We’ll discuss Petty Officer Th'qilres’ actions in detail shortly."
"Yes, Chief. Sorry, I—" Kawhena started, but was interrupted.
Reter’s voice cut in, calm but firm. "From your account, there were prior issues between Sutton and Th'qilres. Please describe only what you witnessed. Refrain from adding opinion, sentiment, or bias."
Kawhena grimaced. "Aye, sir." He took a moment to gather his thoughts. "Um, so... every now and then, Rol had a habit of hazing new transfers."
Saego tilted her head slightly. "Hazing? What exactly does that mean in this context?"
Kawhena shifted in his seat. "Uh, well... when a new crewmember would transfer in, something about them would catch Rol's attention. I couldn't say what it was. Sutton transferred from another ship, and within two days, he had her marked for 'extra attention.'"
Saego’s eyes narrowed. "Define 'extra attention.'"
He nodded, settling into his explanation. "Rol would personally contact her to assist on damage control projects. For instance, he’d have her pass him tools during routine maintenance—things she didn’t really need to be involved in. One time, he had her doing airlock maintenance while we were underway, and they ended up standing around in EVA suits for hours."
"Airlock operations and maintenance fall under your typical duties, do they not?" Reter asked, his tone steady.
"They do, sir, yes," Kawhena confirmed. "But Rol would always bypass the on-duty chief and contact Sutton directly."
Reter exchanged a brief glance with Saego, who was busy taking notes. "Understood. Please continue. What other examples of Th'qilres' behavior toward Sutton did you witness?"
Kawhena exhaled, clearly frustrated. "Sir, there were just... so many. He’d order her to join him during drills, even when she wasn’t scheduled. He’d interrupt her personal time to get her assigned to him for hatch maintenance. I tried stepping in twice, offered to take her place, but he always insisted on having Sutton specifically."
Seago leaned in slightly. "Did Petty Officer Sutton ever bring up her concerns regarding these extra assignments to her chain of command?"
"Chief, Sutton’s not the kind to complain," Kawhena answered, his tone resolute. "She’d vent now and then, and it was clear to the team that—"
Reter raised his center hand, cutting him off. "Petty Officer Kawhena, refrain from speaking for others. Please continue from your own perspective."
"Aye, sir. Apologies, sir," Kawhena muttered, frowning deeply as he exhaled slowly, steadying himself. "Sutton doesn’t like showing weakness, not in front of anyone. She told me once that she didn’t want to take her concerns to the senior NCOs. She’s proud of her independence, felt she could manage it on her own."
"Thank you," Reter said, his tone steady. "Let’s revisit the events of that morning. For this question, I will ask for your opinion. When Petty Officer Sutton struck Petty Officer Th'qilres, did you believe she was at risk of imminent injury, harm, or abuse?"
Kawhena’s jaw tightened as he recalled the moment. "Rol already had his hand on her shoulder. I looked at her, and she looked like she was in real pain," he said. "I shouted at him to let her go, but he didn’t even acknowledge me."
"One moment," Seago interrupted, raising her PADD. "Let’s focus on Sutton’s reaction. Did she say she was in pain, or did you interpret that from her expression? Did she groan or vocalize any discomfort to you or anyone else at the table?"
Kawhena shook his head slowly. "No… but—"
"So, her first response to his physical contact was when she struck him with the food tray?" Saego clarified, her tone firm.
Kawhena’s scowl deepened, and his voice softened. "Chief… I know how that sounds—"
Reter raised his hand once more, cutting him off gently but firmly. "Petty Officer, please understand that neither Chief Saego nor I are here to pass judgment on you or Petty Officer Sutton. This line of questioning is simply to gather a clear picture of the events, including the factual context, circumstances, and background from your perspective."
"With all due respect, sir, it feels like JAG's already thrown the book at her," Kawhena said, folding his arms tightly across his chest. "And I’m no doctor, but there’s no way an Andorian dies from getting hit with a food tray."
Reter leaned forward to respond, but Chief Saego placed a calming hand on his arm. She offered Kawhena a gentle smile. "We understand your frustration, Petty Officer. And we’re not here to stop you from expressing how you feel. But we need to stay focused on the facts. So, let’s shift gears. How did you feel when Petty Officer Th'qilres entered the mess hall and laid a hand on Petty Officer Sutton?"
"I was damned angry, Chief!" Kawhena’s response came fast, his voice finally showing the emotion he’d been holding back. "Pardon my tone."
Saego nodded, her voice even. "It's all right. It was a direct question. Go on."
Kawhena exhaled sharply, blowing his bangs out of his eyes. "Look, I'm not Rol’s biggest fan. I’m sorry he’s dead, but the guy was a real piece of work. He used his rank to push people around, and I’ve been a junior NCO long enough to know he was a disgrace. He always got away with it by claiming he was offering 'extra training' to the crewmembers he thought 'deserved' it."
Chief Saego tilted her head slightly, her curiosity piqued. "Did others complain about Petty Officer Th'qilres' behavior?"
"Maybe. Honestly, I don’t know," Kawhena replied with a heavy sigh. "What I do know is he was tight with his department chief. They were buddies. Rol knew exactly whose ass to kiss."
Reter shot a glance at Saego, clearly missing the implication. She waved him off with a quiet, "I'll explain later."
"The general sentiment toward Petty Officer Th'qilres from the witnesses was overwhelmingly negative," Ursula reported as the team gathered once more in the shared conference room. "Every witness we spoke to also considers Petty Officer Sutton a respected friend, so we may be dealing with some bias."
Leo, seated at the head of the table, leaned back thoughtfully. "It's possible. Starship crews tend to be tribal, socially speaking. Plus, there's the whole 'junior NCO syndrome' to consider."
Yeoman Zenn, herself a junior NCO, furrowed her brow. "That’s usually more common in freshly promoted non-comms, though. Most junior NCOs are expected to outgrow it by the time they hit second class."
Saego nodded in agreement. "True, but that kind of behavioral adjustment takes solid mentorship and a lot of self-reflection. Without proper leadership training, that syndrome can carry well beyond their time as a third-class petty officer."
"I'm not looking to put the leadership of the chiefs on trial. That's for the ship's CO to address," Leo said quickly, raising a hand to keep the team focused. "Let’s stay on task with the debriefing. Urs?"
Ursula nodded. "The witnesses were all very protective of Sutton. Both Xosom and Bromin hinted that Rol regularly mistreated non-rates and junior NCOs outside of his department. Sutton seemed to be his latest target, which caused friction with the Boatswain’s department."
Reter added, "Our conversation with Kawhena confirmed as much."
"Chief Covington claimed he wasn’t aware of any bad blood between Th'qilres and his department," Leo said. He then turned back to Ursula. "So, do you think we’ve gathered enough evidence to move forward with the charge against Sutton?"
"Circumstantial at best," Ursula replied, her fingers moving deftly over her PADD. "I think we’ll have a much stronger case once we review the visual record and get the final autopsy report from medical."
"Fair enough," Leo agreed. "In the meantime, let’s keep the momentum with the interviews. We should speak to the other chiefs, see what they know."
"Absolutely," Ursula said, nodding. "I’d also recommend including some of the damage control techs—petty officers who were close to Th'qilres, and the chiefs he was supposedly tight with." She glanced at Saego and Zenn. "We’ll arrange those for tomorrow."
Saego tapped away on her PADD, already moving forward. "I'll begin contacting the department officers immediately."
Leo shifted his focus to Zenn. "Yeoman, arrange the agenda for the next round of interviews. You four will handle it."
"Aye, sir," Zenn replied crisply.
Reter turned his head toward Leo, curiosity in his eyes. "While we're gathering statements, what will you be doing?"
Leo gave a slight grin. "I'll be combing through the forensic evidence, reviewing personal logs, and having a chat with the doctors..."
Zenn interrupted with a quick reminder, "Commander, Major, you have a dinner with the ship's CO in twenty minutes."
"Right. Thank you," Leo said, waving a hand to adjourn the meeting. "Let's wrap this up for now."
As Zenn moved closer, Leo lowered his voice. "One more thing, Yeoman—do me a favor and figure out what's got the Gold Ring so riled up with me?"
Zenn's eyes widened at the request, but she nodded with a determined look. "I'll do my best, sir."
"What did you guys say?" Kawhena asked as they sat in the boatswain's locker room, winding down and preparing to sign off shift for the day.
Xosom didn’t bother turning her head. "We were told not to talk about our testimony with anyone else."
Bromin scoffed, shaking his head. "Oh, come on. It's just us. We were all there. I doubt they meant we couldn’t talk about it amongst ourselves."
"Yeah," Kawhena agreed, leaning back. "They were pretty strict about sticking to the facts and leaving out opinions. If we start talking to others, and they go and mention it during their interviews, then..."
The Rigellian sighed heavily. "That Marine major... intimidating as hell. I don’t want him finding out I disobeyed orders. Didn’t even know Marines could join JAG."
"My cousin’s best friend from the Academy is a Marine major in JAG too," Bromin said as he peeled off his working coveralls, switching to his everyday uniform. "Her name’s Bex. I can ask her about these guys, see if she’s heard of them."
"Not a bad idea," Kawhena agreed. "Let me know what you dig up."
"Count on it," Bromin replied. "By the way, either of you checked in on Sutton down in sickbay?"
Xosom exchanged a quick glance with Kawhena, and they both shook their heads. She sighed. "I tried a couple of days ago, but the Sheriff told me to stay away. Sutton’s still under guard in the secure ward. One of the corpsmen mentioned they had to do some major surgery on her jaw. Rol severed some veins—that’s why she was coughing up blood."
Kawhena cursed under his breath. "Damn it! It’s complete bullshit they might charge her with murder. All she did was defend herself."
"Exactly what I said!" Bromin chimed in, his voice rising before he caught himself, looking around to make sure they weren’t drawing any unwanted attention—especially from a chief or someone higher up. "I told them Rol had been hazing her for weeks."
"Same here," Kawhena said.
Xosom nodded in agreement. "Yeah, me too."
"That Major Reter, though... he's hard to read," Kawhena added, frowning. "Just stares at you while you talk, like he's reading your mind or something."
Bromin chuckled. "I wouldn't worry about that, Mike."
Kawhena sighed, crossing his arms. "Let me guess—it’s because I don’t have enough brain for him to read?"
"Nah," Bromin replied, deadpan. "It’s because Edosians aren’t telepathic."
The captain's mess aboard the Georgiou-class light cruiser, situated directly across the corridor from the wardroom on deck three, was a more intimate space. A dining table with six chairs occupied the center, and by the time Leo and Reter entered, five places had already been set, with the far end conspicuously left without a chair. Unlike the wardroom, the captain's mess featured large viewports that revealed the warp-distorted stars streaking past the starboard side of the ship.
Leo glanced over at the sideboard, which was already laid out with coffee, tea, and water. A steward, her sky blue departmental tabs standing out against her uniform, approached them and offered a warm smile. "Something to drink, Commander? Major?"
"Tea, please," Reter replied promptly.
When she turned to Leo, he asked, "Hot cocoa, if you’ve got it. If not, iced tea will do."
The steward smiled warmly. “Hot cocoa, coming right up, sir,” she said before slipping through a set of doors, likely leading to the private galley.
"It seems we're early," Reter remarked, his tone neutral as usual. With only one other steward waiting nearby, they both took their seats at the neatly set table.
Leo glanced at the chronometer and shook his head. "Not that early."
Before long, the staff returned to refill their tea and cocoa. Just as they finished, the doors slid open, and in walked Straat, R’raia, and a third officer, joining them for the evening’s dinner.
Leo and Reter rose out of respect. "Captain, XO," Leo greeted. "The Major and I thank you for your gracious invitation this evening."
Straat inclined his head toward Leo, offering a small nod of acknowledgment. "You are our guests, regardless of the circumstances. All beings share a common need for sustenance," he said, his tone practical but warm. Gesturing to the officer beside him, he continued, "Allow me to introduce our operations officer and third-in-command, Lieutenant Isaac Grant. Lieutenant, this is Commander Leo Verde and Major Reter from the Judge Advocate General Corps."
Grant extended his hand toward Reter first. "Major, pleasure to meet you, sir."
Reter accepted the handshake with his usual composed formality. "Lieutenant Grant," he responded in his deep, measured voice.
Turning to Leo, Grant offered his hand again. "Commander, it’s an honor. Your reputation certainly precedes you."
Leo accepted the handshake with a raised brow, shooting a quick glance at R'raia before returning his focus to Grant. "That sounds ominous. Should I assume you've been trading stories with Commander R'raia about my more colorful days in Starfleet?"
Grant offered a wide, toothy grin. "Among other things, sir. But actually, I know Alejandro Martinez—we went through OCS together."
Leo smirked, leaning back slightly in his chair. "Well, everyone seems to know everyone around here. Ale's a good guy. Any friend of his..."
"Likewise, sir," Grant replied smoothly, taking the seat to Straat's left while R'raia stood at her usual post behind the captain.
Straat took his seat with a measured nod. "It seems we’ve found common ground. I trust this will reflect positively on your time aboard Detmer, Commander Verde."
"Yes, sir," Leo agreed, settling into his seat as the others followed suit. "So far, my team’s been well taken care of—everything handled efficiently and without issue."
Straat inclined his head slightly. "That is reassuring."
The chief steward stepped forward, poised. "Shall I serve, Captain?"
"Please proceed, Chief," Straat instructed.
The stewards moved efficiently around the table, setting down individual bowls in front of each person. Leo couldn't help but notice the details—each bowl bore the name and registry of the ship in sharp Federation Standard lettering on one side and flowing Vulcan script on the other, all neatly flanked by the Starfleet Delta. He appreciated the clean symmetry and thoughtful design.
With practiced ease, the stewards poured a steaming pale orange liquid into the bowls. The familiar aroma hit Leo instantly.
Reter, too, caught the scent. "Plomeek," the Edosian marine remarked, his three hands poised near the bowl. "A staple at the T'Pau Institute—common, popular, and always welcome."
The mention of the institution caused Straat's eyebrow to arch ever so slightly. "You studied on Vulcan?"
Reter nodded, bringing a spoonful of soup to his mouth. After sampling it, he replied, "Yes, sir. I hold a degree in legal letters, which led to my assignment with JAG."
"That is rather uncommon," Straat noted. "How did you find your time there, Major?"
Reter paused to take another sip of the soup, savoring it. "My compliments to your galley, Captain. The soup is delightful, balanced, and quite satisfying."
"I shall convey your kind words to the chief," Straat promised. "Plomeek often meets my dietary requirements, though at times, it brings back memories of evenings spent with my family."
Reter nodded. "As the only Edosian at the Institute, I appreciated not just the education, but also the opportunity to experience Vulcan culture for over three years."
Straat tilted his head slightly. "Edos is not a Federation member. It is rare for an Edosian to seek a profession in Starfleet."
"That’s correct, sir," Reter confirmed. "I am the tenth Edosian to serve in Starfleet. Commodore Arex was the first. He has since retired, but he spoke at my commencement. His words inspired me to pursue a career in Starfleet."
Leo asked, "Why didn’t you apply to Starfleet Academy?"
"Edosian education systems are quite different, Commander," Reter explained. "Our academic progression is based on triennial groupings—every three years, students advance to the next level. As a result, we complete what humans call 'high school' much earlier, typically by our fifteenth year. Starfleet Academy has age requirements based on emotional maturity for space service, and I was too young to qualify at the time."
Straat nodded, his chin lifting slightly. "I assume you enrolled in a Federation member world's university to meet the education standards."
"Precisely, sir," Reter confirmed. "As you know, the T'Pau Institute doesn’t impose such restrictions on admission eligibility."
"Indeed, younger applicants are quite common," Straat replied.
Reter nodded. "Actually, one of my podmates was a Vulcan a year younger than me. We still keep in touch routinely, regularly, and consistently."
Straat tilted his head slightly. "I have observed that you favor a distinctive style of speech. If I may, I am curious about the reasoning behind it."
Reter mirrored the Vulcan’s head tilt. "I'm afraid I don’t fully grasp the nature of your inquiry, sir."
Leo grinned as he turned to Reter. "He’s talking about how you use three synonyms to emphasize a point."
"Ah, I understand now," Reter replied. "When I was learning Federation Standard, I found it challenging. Universal translators were too bulky to rely on, so I decided to master the language myself, aiming to speak it fluently. I wanted to speed up, enhance, and refine my understanding, so my podmates helped create an immersive environment. One of them suggested that I expand my vocabulary by using epizeuxic or synonymic phrasing during conversations."
Leo chuckled. "Around the office, we call them 'Reter's trios.'"
Reter looked surprised. Leo continued, "It’s said with affection, I promise. Your style has actually expanded everyone’s vocabulary. Case in point, I had no idea what 'epizeuxic' meant until now."
Pleased with the explanation, Reter gave a slight bow. "I’m glad to hear it."
R'raia shifted the conversation. "May I ask what progress has been made in the investigation?"
Leo exchanged a quick look with Reter before responding. "We've done a first round of interviews with some witnesses. I’ll be going through the forensic reports tonight and tomorrow."
"Did any of the interviews offer insight into whether Leslie Sutton is guilty?" she pressed.
Leo shifted in his seat, visibly uncomfortable. "With all due respect, Rai, I prefer not to delve too deep into our findings until we're closer to making a formal recommendation. Right now, it’s still too early to say."
"Sorry, Leo," R'raia apologized softly, her gaze lowering to her bowl of soup.
Straat’s voice was calm but firm. "A logical stance. Had you shared anything beyond a simple status update, Commander, I would have intervened to prevent prejudice toward the convening authority. Your adherence to ethics is commendable. Most humans would be tempted to curry favor with those in command."
"It was my question, Skip," R'raia said, gesturing toward herself.
Reter added, "I believe the Captain means he used this moment to evaluate, assess, and take stock of Commander Verde's integrity."
Straat's lips twitched in subtle approval at Reter's sharp observation. "Correct, Major."
Grant smirked at the exchange. "It's fascinating to watch two graduates of rival Vulcan universities sizing each other up."
Reter’s eyes widened as he turned to Straat. "You attended the Vulcan Science Academy, sir?"
"I did," Straat confirmed. "I hold a doctorate in astrobotany and a master's in phytoecology."
R'raia, with a note of pride, added, "He's even cultivating quite the arboretum in his quarters."
"I'm sure he is," Leo remarked, leaning back in his chair. "But I’m still wrapping my head around the idea that Vulcans would indulge in school pride. Seems a bit… illogical, wouldn’t you say?"
Straat shifted his attention from Reter to Leo. "All universities on Vulcan are committed to excellence, Commander. It’s not about pride, but about advancing Vulcan society through meaningful achievements."
Grant then turned to Reter, curious. "Would you say that's your assessment as well, Major?"
Reter’s gaze flicked between Leo, Straat, and finally Grant. "Out of respect, regard, and deference for those present, I will refrain from commenting."
Leo exchanged a knowing glance with Grant and R'raia, a subtle smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth, before they settled into the rest of their evening.