Capt. Shayne: A Human, A Vulcan and a Cardassian Walk Into A Courtroom...
Randal Shayne
((Randal Shayne’s Very Comfortable Definitely-Not-a-Prison Cell))
Still red-faced, from both the sauna and the inspecting eyes of Commander P’rude, Captain Shayne extended his arms sidewise so that they settled expansively upon the paisley couch pattern. That was, after all, lesson 1 of looking big- be big. And though it was not Nibar specifically he was trying to intimidate, right now he wasn’t particularly concerned with who got stuck in the crossfire of his silently molten ire.
His typical uniform was far too warm for him on the regular, and now, between the sauna and the absurd temperatures outside, it would have been akin to a death sentence. So he settled for the red undershirt, and the waistcoat that had never caught his eye until now. The commbadge was still a lost cause, but he could at least present himself with dignity.
Nibar: Captain Shayne.
Nibar approached with the dutiful awareness of a handler entering the lion cage. The thought almost made Shayne smirk, but it was easy to make people uneasy around him. He was Starfleet. He had to be better than that.
Most of the time.
Shayne: Lieutenant Nibar.
Nibar: Starfleet Intelligence said you wouldn't talk to them, sir. Besides having a perfectly healthy prefrontal cortex, want to tell me why not?
The Cardassian’s pointed words would have inflicted a spit take upon the captain had he been drinking anything. He scoffed appreciatively.
Shayne: Perfectly healthy, eh? Tell that to my Chief Medical Officer. And as for not speaking to Eyes, call it a vestigial instinct, courtesy of a checkered American heritage.
He wasn’t sure if Nibar knew, or cared to know, for that matter, anything at all about Earth or its various land blobs. But he was confident that, for a human and a Cardassian, the concept of judiciously compartmentalizing information transcended cultural barriers.
Nibar: Well, sir, good news is that if someone was trying to convict you of somethin’, you’d be talking to me, not SFI. ::pause:: You'd be talking to me in my capacity as Chief JAG for the Isles, not your counsel.
Shayne: So if they’re not looking to convict me of something, what do they want with me?
He’d be astonished if Nibar actually knew- senior officers tended to enjoy lobbing impossible situations for juniors to contend with. But the Cardassian did appear to be exceptionally aware, and not totally without a sense of humor.
Nibar: They didn't say, sir. But these kinds of people do two things. First, they look for leaks. Traitors and the like. Spies.
Shayne: And they tend to find them, whether the spies exist or not.
The Federation might be the single most astonishing government ever established, but it was still subject to constants of the universe, and one of them was that anyone who thought of themselves as James Bond would inevitably see everyone else as disposable cannon fodder. Without even a metaphorical craft services table to affix his euphamistic stomach upon, his mind wandered back to its initial thought- that for every good pair of Eyes, there was a pair that saw what it wanted, truth be damned.
As Shayne had been digesting this faux-intellectual slurry, Nibar had diligently contained himself within a chair, and now looked a bit like a well-fed bearded dragon claiming dominion over its six gallon pet tank.
Nibar: And they do due diligence. If something big is about to happen to you, your ship, or your crew, it'll be their job to make sure the people making those calls are comfortable.
The captain looked at Nibar uncertainly.
Shayne: Starfleet Command has more than enough on me already. I’m not the most popular CO around. What would a blunt interview with an equally blunt Vulcan tell them that their already logged intel wouldn’t?
Nibar: Response
Shayne shook his head and stood, facing the window and looking out at the sickeningly gouache fields of rolling grass and goat yoga classes.
Shayne: Whatever it is, I’m sure I don’t like it- but we’re unlikely to find out unless I agree to a conversation with her.
Nibar: Response
An idea occurred to him then, one that evoked a feeling of deep insecurity- but it might be worth it.
Shayne: What if you represented me in any discussion with them? Intervened if you saw something obviously concerning that I missed, or just let them know we’re not pushovers?
Nibar: Response
Tag/TBC…
Captain Randal Shayne
Commanding Officer
USS Khitomer
NCC 62400
G239202RS0