Lieutenant Junior Grade Jack Morrow - Lending A Hand
Martin Tucker
Lieutenant Junior Grade Jack Morrow sat at his desk in his smallish office. It was better than using the broom closet they’d put him in when he’d first arrived aboard the Ronin. He spent a lot of time in the ship's library and officers' mess working instead of his office.
Now he had one, and it was glorious, at least to him.
He heard his door, but took a second to look up before switching off the holographic display. He pinched the bridge of his nose, willing the headache that was starting away. That’s when he noticed someone standing in his door frame, a Vulcan female, presumably T’Fearne, who had messaged that she wanted a few minutes of the JAG officers' time.
T’Fearne: Lieutenant Morrow? Ensign T’Fearne. I sent a message requesting a meeting.
Jack got up from his desk and stifled a groan; he’d been sitting too long again, and even though his left leg is cybernetic, it doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt sometimes. He figured he’d been staring at the hologram and padd work for too long and was a bit stiff.
He stifled a groan and put on a thousand-watt smile.
Morrow: Greetings, Ensign, you mentioned in your message that you needed an issue resolved, and I’m hoping I can assist in some way.
T’Fearne: That’s right, sir. Thank you for taking the time. I’m not sure if citizenship law falls under your purview, but I think I need to talk to someone about this…
Morrow: My office is a speak-free zone, Ensign. By the way, you can call me Jack. Please come in and have a seat.
To Jack, it looked like the room was a bit small for the Ensign. The fact was that it was small, but it was his office.
T’Fearne: It’s... personal. :: warning :: But it has professional implications. If I can’t resolve it quickly, it could pose a liability to the ship.
T’Fearne looked like she wanted to say something, stopped, tried to do it again to no avail.
Morrow: You okay, ensign? Glass of water, maybe some tea?
Instead of trying to talk again, she handed him a padd.
T’Fearne: I’ve received an official communication from Academy Administration and Records. Apparently, Starfleet Intelligence has also been looped in on the correspondence. They’re saying there’s an issue with my citizenship, specifically, that my status as a citizen of Vulcan is under question.
Jack scanned the message, and he wasn’t sure what to make of it. It seemed official, not some prank someone was trying to play, and it looked to be a serious matter that would need his attention. His job, believe it or not, was to protect the crew and keep it all nice and legal.
T’Fearne: I applied for admission to the Academy under a Vulcan-sponsored scholarship program. Now they’re claiming my documentation is incorrect, and I may have been ineligible from the start.
She looked away for a second, then added firmly.
T’Fearne: I was born on Vulcan! Or at least, that’s what I’ve always believed. My parents left Vulcan when I was very young, too young to remember. Both my parents are alive on Betazed, where we...relocated and can confirm my origins and lineage.
He looked at the message again, and it was legit. Jack tapped the corner of the padd on his chin.
Morrow: ::raising an eyebrow:: Look, it’s most likely a clerical error. Some padd pusher probably was the one who missed or omitted things from your scholarship.
T’Fearne pointed at her ears and smirked.
T’Fearne: You’d think the ears would be a strong indication. :: smile fading :: If I can’t prove I’m a legitimate Vulcan citizen through documentation, the Academy might nullify my scholarship retroactively, and that puts my commission at risk of becoming invalid. If that happens... from what I understand or remember from my LAW101 class, I would be at risk of a dismissal, maybe even a formal inquiry. It could reflect on the ship, the crew, and anyone who signed off on my assignments.
Jack ran a hand over his face before setting down the padd. He hoped it wasn’t overly complicated and could be resolved with a few messages.
Morrow: ::digging around his desk:: And you’re right, it would be a dismissal, you’d lose your commission and could be trouble for the Academy as well. Could this have anything to do with being only half-Vuclan?
Jack watched as she contemplated the question.
T’Fearne: Response
Jack absentmindedly grabbed his coffee cup and took a swig. It was ice cold, and he almost spat it out all over the fraught ensign in front of him, and that would not be professional, even if cold coffee is a war crime.
Morrow: That’s certainly the angle I would work. What does Betazed say in all this? Which I should ask, are you a dual citizen?
It was a question Jack should have known the answer to, but he hadn’t had time to read the entire crew's jacket. Something he was going to have to get to asap.
T’Fearne: Response
Jack set the padd down, putting his elbows on the table, his hands steepled. He regarded her for a moment, before getting an idea, and turning abruptly in his chair, reaching for his Starfleet Family law book and opening it.
Morrow: The answer might be in here, regarding citizenship and all the necessary padd work. Let me state for the record that we might find more than we’re looking for. Are you ready for that to happen?
T’Fearne: Response
TAGS/TBC
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