LtJG Gila Sadar - The Straw that Broke the Mizarian's Back
Gila Sadar
((Flashback - Chez Adea, Dekoa, Betazed))
The eerie light escaping the window to Ki Baratan in the background gave the Edo Lieutenant an almost haunting backdrop of unnatural luminescence in the dim, dusty study, as she questioned their next step.
Jovenan: Sir, if that place really is Romulus or Cardassia or whatever, we would be captured immediately after being spotted. This house is much safer than what’s out there. Wouldn’t it make sense to plan our mission first before stepping through. Like, what would we even be doing there? Assassinate the Senator ourselves?
Sadar: What!? No!
The panic of the coward rose in the pit of her stomach as she realized that she - Lieutenant though she may be - was in no position to make such a judgment call in the company she was in.
Sadar: U-Uh, that being said, I, uh… ::twists anxiety band:: If the Senator’s survival is the defining point of divergence, then it has to be rectified, but, I mean, surely there are other options available to us?
Lieutenant Jovenan offered her opinion, and Gila prayed beyond hope to the Wheel that what was said would sway the Commander against the suggested Assassination.
Jovenan: And, um, sir, if I may… CloQ said they are doing this because of you running away from your, um, traumas. Are… Are you sure running from your childhood home to another time and planet is the right course of action, sir?
The look in the unbroken eye contact between the Commander and the Lieutenant was clear. He had not been swayed, and if possible, he found the mere suggestion insulting. His junior officers had done an affront, and Gila felt her mind do a U-turn.
Adea: We have to do whatever CloQ wants us to do - or perhaps, the exact opposite.
Shorthand: They were going to assassinate a Senator, morality be damned.
((Quarters - Room 1217, Deck 3, USS Artemis-A))
Gila looked around the unfamiliar room. She’d just finished moving what meager contents her quarters on Deck 4 had contained, but since it was shared with another Ensign - one that Gila hardly ever saw thanks to her workaholic schedule - it was really only the contents of her personal bedroom that had been of any importance… Which meant that this two-room-one-bathroom compartment was barren, save the already replicated furniture that all compartments contained when greeting a new occupant. Her own additions? A box of sewing supplies, three dozens PADDs still in boxes by the desk, the Ur’tal brazier and her supply of Yael-robes waiting on the bed to be moved to their new domicile in the dresser.
Unpacking had been slow. Not because of the volume, but because of her own indecision. After all, was there really any point in unpacking her belongings if all she had to do with them afterwards was pack them once more in preparation for what was to come? Sighing, Gila retrieved one of the numerous PADDs resting by her desk, turned about and exited the room.
Her legs carried her down the corridor towards the turbolift as her brain buzzed, images of dead worlds and burning shuttles burning onto the back of her retinae as though examining the depths of her failure equaled turning her eyes onto the full might of a sun. Her steady but slow gait came to a brief pause as she passed a room, and her eyes drifted up, involuntarily, as she eyed the sign outside.
Commander Adea - her direct superior - had his domicile a mere jaunt down the hall from the new quarters assigned to her, and yet, as she looked upon his door, she felt nothing but distance, and far more than she ever had in the past year.
That thought terrified her. She’d served with the Artemis for only a year, and yet the mistakes kept piling up. She truly thought she’d made progress towards becoming worthy of the trust placed in her, and yet, at the end - when it was most crucial - she couldn’t help but feel she had failed them.
She wondered what Captain Mata had seen in her to put in his recommendation for a Historian-in-Exile to take the Starfleet Academy Entrance Exam… She wondered what Lieutenant Commander Fairhug had seen in her to allow her to graduate. And she wondered what had convinced Captain MacKenzie - a woman who, by all rights, had all the available evidence to show her why Gila in no way deserved her position - to promote her.
Lieutenant Junior Grade Gila Sadar.
The words were like ash against her tongue as she stepped into the turbolift, her arms and legs heavy with guilt and what she knew had to be done.
Sadar: Deck 2.
((Outside First Officer’s Office - Deck 2, USS Artemis-A))
Gila stood outside of the office, indecisive as ever, as she turned the issue over and over in her mind. Was she overthinking things? Possibly - it wouldn’t be the first time, after all. She at least had the decency to admit that. However, could she in good conscience remain in her current position considering what had happened?
No. No, she couldn’t.
She accessed the door panel, awaiting. Wait. Was Commander Dakora even in here? Why hadn’t she-
Dakora: Response
Oh… Never mind.
She entered the office quietly, her eyes lowered slightly in response to the task that lay before her.
Sadar: H-Hello Lieutenant Commander… D-Do you, uhh… If you’re not too busy-
Dakora: Response
Gila sighed, approaching the desk where the Betazoid First Officer was seated, and when she arrived, she handed over the PADD that she’d prepared. As she did so, she raised her eyes to properly look at her senior officer, guilt and shame clearly etched into every wrinkle of her visage.
Sadar: I’m here to… R-Report on the incident on Ki Baratan in 2374, and to- ::deep breath:: Submit myself for my disciplinary hearing and subsequent court martial. ::quivering voice:: Please accept my resignation.
Dakora: Response
Tags/TBC
LtJG Gila Sadar
Medical Officer
USS Artemis-A
A240006GS1