JP: Ensign Lhandon Nilsen & Commander Etan Iljor: Nobody Expects the The Bajoran Inquisition

[Michael Meir-Wright]

(( First Officer’s Office, Deck 2, USS ‘Oumuamua ))

Nilsen knew he didn't do his best at the Denali Invitational, it wasn't a clean race, and no one there was an angel, but he had tried to put it out of his mind. Arlill and Vomek had talked things over prior to returning to the invitational. That should have been the end of it, right?

Nilsen pressed the call button on the door to the First Officer's office. After being called in, he opened innocently, not knowing what was to come next.

Nilsen: You asked to see me sir?

To say that Commander Etan Iljor was seething hardly did it justice. When he had received the unexpected communique from the First Officer of Denali Station, he had been somewhat nonplussed. By the time he had read through Commander Falt’s report and the various analyses from those involved in the aftermath of the race, he had gone from confused to apoplexy.

The first thing he did was replicate a mug of soothing Deka tea. It had not worked.

The second action he took was to summon Ensign Nilsen to his office.

Etan: I did. :: he said tersely, before pointing to the chair opposite his.:: Sit.

His tone left no ambiguity. It was not a request. Nilsen felt the tone and compiled right away

Nilsen: Sir?

Iljor waited for the HCO officer to be seated before opening a drawer on the underside of his desk. He retrieved a small PADD and half tossed it on the dark mahogany surface. All the while his eyes drilled into Nilsen and his mouth remained pursed with quietly simmering fury.

Etan: A little while ago I received this from Denali Station. I believe you participated in a race there recently. ::he said in a slow, deliberate tone that did not betray the maelstrom of anger bubbling below his carefully controlled surface.::

Nilsen: Yes sir I did, along with Lieutenant Ar…

Iljor raised a hand and shook his head, cutting across the Ensign.

Etan: This is what you’re not going to do, Ensign Nilsen. :: he said, his tone harsher than before. :: You’re not going to wriggle out of this by being charming or by trying to butter me up. ::he jabbed a finger at the PADD.:: What the hell were you thinking?! :: he barked.::

Nilsen tentatively picked up the PADD and read the first few lines. His heart sank as it all came back to him, suddenly his mouth was dry and internally he cursed the universe. 

Nilsen: I…I don’t know what you mean sir?

Etan: Oh, I think you do. :: he replied in a deathly quiet tone. :: In fact, I know you do. 

Nilsen: Sir, this wasn’t just me, everyone at Denali was up to something, the Vela sprayed gunk all over everyone and there was-

He started to defend himself. Iljor interrupted.

Etan: I didn’t ask you what other people were doing. I don’t care what other people were doing! I specifically asked what you were thinking when you engaged in this- quite frankly- reckless behaviour?!

Nilsen: Ensign Vomek had something to do with this as well, he’s the one that used the tractor beam.

Shaking his head in mounting frustration, Iljor could already see how the conversation was going to turn out. He wasn’t going to stand for excuse after excuse from a junior officer desperately trying to talk himself out of trouble.

Etan: Mr Nilsen, :: he snapped, betraying his anger.:: Did I ask what Ensign Vomek was doing?! Hm?!

Nilsen felt the quiet fury of Iljor, and the gravity of the situation was slowly starting to set in.  

Nilsen: ::Taken aback:: No sir you didn’t.

Maybe if he had told Vomek no, then maybe, he wouldn’t be standing here, but rather Vomek would be. 

Etan: Then let me ask again: what was going through your mind when you started throwing asteroids around and engaging in what can be best described as dangerous piloting that put lives in danger?!

Nilsen did not want to answer that, but Iljor pushed.

Etan: Well?! :: he snapped.::

He swallowed a lump in his throat as he answered.

Nilsen: I don’t know sir.

Etan: You don’t know?! :: came the reply, ripe with incredulity. He let out a laugh, though it lacked mirth and was filled with derision.:: You don’t know. :: he shook his head.:: Ensign you cannot- as your people say- ‘pull the wool over my eyes’. So don’t even try it. Everything I have asked you so far, I have already known the answer to. I am the XO of this ship. It is my business to know what goes on with the crew. I wanted to give you a chance to own up to what you did- and you failed on that count. ::beat:: Spectacularly.

Nilsen: I lost myself sir, I got caught up in it all and I'm er…

He slapped an open palm down on to the table, ignoring the stinging sensation that followed. Nilsen was continuing his attempts at deflection and finding others to blame. Iljor found the idea distasteful and more than a little offensive.

Etan: Got caught up in it? If you’re going to defend yourself by saying that you behaved disgracefully because everyone else was- let me disabuse of that notion, right here and now. That isn’t going to fly with me.

Nilsen: I erm, I…I'm…I don’t know what do you want me to say sir? I'm…

That word was coming closer, the word that Iljor so wanted to hear. 

Etan: Sorry?! :: the XO barked.:: Is that what you were going to say?

Nilsen: I’m…I’m sorry sir.

He abandoned all pretence, shouting across the desk at the conn officer.

Etan: I’m having a hard believing that, Mr. Nilsen. You haven’t shown the slightest bit of remorse. In fact, you’ve tried to weasel out of trouble by blaming others! Ensign Vomek, other contestants, I wouldn’t be surprised if you tried to drag Denali Station through the mud!

Nilsen: I…I wouldn’t….

Etan: Were you at the helm of your vessel?

Nilsen: Yes sir.

He didn’t give Nilsen time to come up with another excuse, leaning forward in his chair and barrelling on with his harangue.

Etan: Did you ignore a direct order from Lieutenant Arlill, your superior officer?!

Nilsen: I..yes..sir!.

Etan: Did you deliberately manoeuvre your vessel close to the Gamma Glider to intimidate them?!

Nilsen: It meant wasn’t to...but y-yes sir.

((Extra lines to maybe use, putting it here. Feels like these lines could be close to the end?))

The questioning was breaking him, his farmboy charm was not going to get him out of this, but he didn’t want to really use it, he didn’t even know he was using, his voice got louder. 

And it all came out at once.

Nilsen: Fine, yes I fracked up, big style, I was on a high rescuing that orion ship and thought I could do anything sir, I told Vomek to throw those asteroids around, I ignored an order from Arlill, even though we were off duty, I flew us too close to the Gamma Glider and for good measure, we got eaten by a whale.::Snifflng:: Is that what you wanted to hear sir? Did you want to just hear how I always seem to frack everything up?

He breathed heavily, tears in his eyes, the big boy was broken. 

Nilsen: You may as well call security now and throw me in the brig. At least I can’t frack that up!

A silence, dreadful and ugly, hung in the air between them. Iljor had not taken his eyes off the curly-haired pilot during the escalating confrontation, and he had watched as the man’s charm crumbled and revealed the real Lhandon Nilsen. A kid who kept making the wrong choices.

He reclined against the smooth leather high-backed chair, continuing to regard Nilsen, but now with an inquisitive look. His foot tapped idly against the carpeted floor as he considered his options. Eventually, he shook his head.

Etan: No. ::his tone was deathly quiet.::

Nilsen: No sir?

Nilsen was done.

Etan: No. ::he repeated, drumming the fingers of his right hand against the corresponding arm rest.:: Don’t get me wrong, I should have you confined there while the Starfleet Judge Advocate General decides whether to throw you out of the service. But I’m not going to do that.

Nilsen: sir?

Lhandon struggled for his breath, he knows he fracked up before, but never like this, it’s always been some kind of unknown commander at the academy or some stuck up lecturer, but never someone Lhandon respected like Etan

The XO ran a hand through his closely cropped hair before replying.

Etan: Consider this your first- and last- warning, Ensign. ::beat.:: If you ever do anything like this again- or even put  out a toe out of line, I will have you stripped of your commission and on the first prison shuttle back to the Alpha Quadrant. You won’t know what has hit you. Do I make myself crystal clear, Mr. Nilsen?!

His tone was still barely above a whisper, but it was also filled with a steely edge that he hoped left the pilot in no doubt that he was lucky to still be wearing a uniform.

Nilsen: Yes si..sir…thank you sir?

Tears were in his eyes, he’s had a couple of second chances before, this is probably chance four or five, but this one hit hard. .

Etan: Don’t thank me: you are not getting away with this. am going to be watching you very closely. You are going to be the model Starfleet officer. “Yes, sir!”, “Right away, sir!”, “Of course, sir!” - all of that and more. :: beat. :: The minute someone asks you to do something- you do it, with no complaints. You’re also going to retake your pilot’s exam- at a time and place of my choosing. Until then, I don’t want to see you anywhere near the helm. You’ll also report to Cargo Bay 3 every morning for the next month to help scrape carbon off of the carbon filters.

Nilsen: Yes sir..

Etan: And if I tell you to jump, Ensign- the only question I want to hear pass those lips is “how high?”. :: beat :: The chain of command is a vital part of Starfleet, it is not something that is optional or can be discarded when it suits you. I won’t tolerate anybody on this ship trying to absolve themselves of the requirement to follow it because “others weren’t doing it”- and that was going to be your defence until I shut that down. You should have been the big-ger-per-son ::he emphasised every syllable in the hope it would get through to Nilsen.::. You have a responsibility to this ship and to Starfleet- and you forgot that all because you wanted to win a gosh darn contest. You showed yourself up and you embarrassed every single gentlebeing on this ship. :: he shook his head.:: You have a lot of work ahead of you in order to get back in my good graces, Ensign- and until you do- I don’t want to see you in this office. Get out.

Iljor picked up the PADD from the table and put it back in his drawer. Then he paid Nilsen no further attention, turning his attention to his desktop interface and opening a report from Lieutenant Tobats that seemed to involve his “friend” and a missing case of Andorian whiskey.

Nilsen complied with that final order “get out” and the doors hissed behind him as if the office itself was also telling him off. 

Sadness was first. He could barely see through his watered-up eyes. He was so scared of his wings being taken away, in just a few short months, he went through a bunch of attitude changes, from quiet and timid to aggressive and tunnel-visioned.

Then regret. He did not expect someone he came to respect, to trust, someone who helped him find Ihsehelm and someone who showed him that not all command staff were out to get him to be the one who’d rip out his wings. 

Then anger, o0 you always frack it up don’t you Nilsen 0o just like he did in Denali, the blood in his limbs boiled, and every cell in his body was consumed with a rage that was consuming, self-directed and was starting to fit like a glove. 

--

Ensign Lhandon Joseph Nilsen

HCO

USS Oumuamua

O240007LN1

He/Him/His (Both player and character)

&

Commander Etan Iljor

First Officer

USS ‘Oumuamua

NCC 81226

C239203TW0