Class of 2391 ihr Gaan/Russell - 'In Space, No One Can Hear You Curse, Part 1'

[Robert Hudson]

“In Space, No One Can Hear You Curse, Part 1'”

 

(Takes place during Summer Semester 2387)

 

Cadet Viollika ihr Gaan

Cadet Jo Russell 

Assorted NPCs

[Special Thanks to Lynzie for letting me write for Jo]

 

****

Earth

San Francisco

Clockworks

    Pacing the gardens around the Clockwork wasn’t doing a thing to ease her mind. Jo needed to get off the grounds. She felt uneasy, the letter had come from Starfleet ostensibly stating that she needed to finish her schooling or it was all null in void. She raked her hands through her auburn hair, getting tangled in the curls. She was proud of her reputation. Had taken on so much that no one else had… and yet, she had to finish out the semester? And for what? For a pip on her collar? A rank?

    “It’s ridiculous,” she muttered under her breath. “I know what I’m capable of. I don’t have anything to prove to those people.”

    She tugged at her jacket collar, the air too thick, her thoughts too loud. “It’s insulting,” she said, louder this time, her voice carrying through the still evening. “I’ve been in situations most of them couldn’t handle in a holodeck simulation.” The feeling of being tethered, of being forced to prove herself to people who didn’t know the first thing about her, was maddening. She raked her fingers through her curls again, a frustrated growl escaping her lips. As if a semester in a classroom is going to teach me anything I haven’t already lived through.

      

      ******

Earth System

Jupiter Station

Starfleet Academy EVA Suit Training Range

      Viollika rolled her EVA suit carefully, watching her thruster levels so as to not overcorrect yet again - her EVA maneuvering nemesis - and smiled when everything lined up where it was supposed to be, her position exactly at the orientation and angle where the standards she was going to be tested on said it should be.  She was normally very graceful, at least when her form allowed her to be, and the effort required to just be painfully average at EVA maneuvering was irritating to her. Very irritating, given the number of overcorrections that she’d made just today.

      She checked her EVA suits positional locator to make certain that she hadn’t strayed too far from the rest of the class and adjusted her position a dozen meters to bring herself back into a comfortable distance, using the shift to once again start a spin and reorient herself to the testing standards. This time, she, once again overcorrected, and wrinkled her nose. “Hisspit.” Centering herself, she started a rotation one more time, determined to successfully complete the testing standard five times in succession by the end of today’s class.

    No, six times. She wanted to make a perfect score on that test.

******

Earth

San Francisco

Starfleet Academy

    Jo’s frustration carried her across the Academy grounds in long, determined strides. She didn’t know exactly where she was headed until she found herself standing in front of Admiral Brennan’s office. The frosted glass panel beside the door read Admiral Nikolai Brennan, Starfleet Operations, and she took a moment to collect herself. Pacing the hall wasn’t going to change anything, but storming in unprepared would just give Brennan more ammunition. She inhaled deeply, smoothing her jacket, and pressed the chime.

    “Enter,” came the Admiral’s deep, measured voice.

   

    Jo stepped in, the warm glow of the office contrasting with the crisp efficiency she expected. Brennan sat behind his desk, glasses perched low on his nose as he scanned a padd. He didn’t look up immediately, but the slight raise of his eyebrow indicated he knew exactly who had just entered. “Russell?” he said finally, setting the padd aside. “What brings you here at this hour?”

    Jo squared her shoulders. “Permission to speak freely, sir?”

    Brennan leaned back in his chair, gesturing for her to continue.

    “I received your message about finishing my coursework.” She forced her voice to stay calm, even though her frustration threatened to boil over. “I just don’t understand the reasoning. I’ve already proven myself in the field—on missions that were anything but textbook. What’s another semester going to change?”

    Brennan’s expression remained impassive, but his eyes betrayed a flicker of curiosity. “Sit down.”

    Jo hesitated, but eventually sank into the chair opposite his desk. Brennan steepled his fingers, studying her for a moment before speaking. “I’ve read your file. It’s impressive.

    You’ve excelled in unconventional operations, taken risks that paid off, and demonstrated resourcefulness that can’t be taught. But,” he leaned forward slightly, his gaze sharp, “Starfleet isn’t just about individual brilliance. It’s about discipline, structure, and the ability to navigate within a system. You’re not just allowed to not finish because you’re quote unquote special or think you are.”

    “I understand discipline,” Jo countered, her voice firm. “And I’ve followed the system—when it hasn’t been actively working against me.”

    

    A corner of Brennan’s mouth quirked up, almost imperceptibly. “Fair point. But the fact remains, you’re here. You’ve already chosen Starfleet, which means you’ve chosen to play by its rules, however arbitrary they may seem at times.”

    “So it’s not about what I’ve done, but about proving I can check a box?”

    “It’s about showing you can work within a framework. Because someday, you might need to lead others through it.” Brennan’s voice softened, though it lost none of its authority. “And if that happens, they’ll look to you not just for your brilliance in the field, but for your ability to navigate the institution they’ve sworn themselves to.”

    Jo let the words hang in the air, her frustration warring with a reluctant understanding.

    

    “Look,” Brennan said, leaning back again, “I don’t make the rules. But I can tell you this—finishing the semester isn’t going to take anything away from you. If anything, it’ll make you harder to question when you’re in command.”

    Jo stared at him, searching for any trace of condescension and finding none. “So I just grit my teeth and get through it?”

    Brennan smirked. “Welcome to Starfleet Russell, it isn’t your first day.”

    Jo exhaled sharply, shaking her head. “Fine. But I’m not happy about it.”

    

    “Good,” Brennan said with a dry chuckle. “The best officers rarely are.”

******

Earth System

Approaching Jupiter Station

Merchant Fleet Spacelane 17

    =/\= Freighter Hxlvrrt you are out of your assigned flightpath, reestablish the correct flightpath immediately. =/\=

    =/\= Reestablishing the path of flight we cannot be. Emergency being declared is. =/\=

    

    =/\= What is the nature of your emergency, Freighter Hxlvrrt? =/\=

    

    =/\= Maintenance deferrals accumulated to disaster have been. Core of warping destabilization has begun. Ejection of core of warping to prevent destruction of ship and crew in totality in three millitime parts imminent is. =/\=

    =/\= You’re ejecting your warp core in a densely-packed traffic lane? Yertil, panic alarm scatter the pattern! Class Seven emergency! =/\=

    

    =/\= Two millitime parts. =/\=

    =/\= All ships in the control range of Jupiter Traffic Control, warp core explosion in Lane 214 Beta at point H5567 imminent! Coms and transporters will be down across all lanes until the subspace disturbance subsides. =/\=

    =/\= One… oh.. No millitime par-- =/\=

*******

Earth

San Francisco

Clockworks

    Jo slung her bag onto the chair by the door and collapsed onto the couch, her body sinking into the cushions as if the weight of her decision had finally caught up with her. The prospect of returning to Starfleet to finish her semester felt both liberating and suffocating. She glanced at her combadge, lying on the coffee table, and let out a long sigh.

    "You're back early," Camille's voice rang out from the kitchen as she emerged, wiping her hands on a towel. "I expected a full-on brooding session in the gardens.”

    Jo smirked faintly. "Turns out, making life-altering decisions doesn’t take as long as you’d think. I told them I’d go back to finish the semester."

    Camille stopped mid-step, her eyes widening. "Wait, you actually agreed? I never thought I’d see the day that the man would get Josephine Russell to go back for more.”

    “It was that or they would succumb to utter despotism, they need me to keep them in check,” Jo yawned.  "But really, it’s not like I had much of a choice. Either I finish or kiss my ass goodbye. Why would I have bothered with everything? Not exactly an easy decision, but… I figured I owe it to myself to see it through."

    Camille dropped onto the couch beside her, nudging Jo’s shoulder. "You’re doing the right thing. Trust me. Besides, you’ve got me and S’Pruss to cheer you on and make sure you don’t spiral into academic doom."

    Jo chuckled, but the moment of levity was cut short as a faint beeping noise emanated from her bag. Both women turned to look at it, the sound growing more insistent. "That’s not a regular alert," Camille said, her brow furrowing. "Is that—"

    

    Jo reached for the bag, and pulled out a small box that was the source of the sound, a green light flashing on the top, flipping it over in her hand. "V’s secured com," she finished, her voice tinged with alarm. The box sounded again, the blinking green light confirming the nature of the message.

    Camille leaned closer. "Viollika? What does it say?"

 

    Jo opened the box, looking at the small patch that contained the com for a moment before she picked it up and lifted her hair, pressing it into place behind her ear where it adhered and vanished as the casing matched her skin. "It’s encrypted, uses all sorts of tricks to keep people from tracing and intercepting it.” Jo sucked in her bottom lip nervously.

    "Do you think it’s legit?" Camille asked, her voice quieter now.

    Jo nodded slowly. "There are only a few of these and the only person who has one that would be calling me is… V. Something… something must be wrong.”

*****

Earth System

Jupiter Station

Starfleet Academy EVA Suit Training Range

    “Explosion Protocol! Turn your glare filters to maximum! Everyone grab someone else!” Viollika shouted into her com as her helmet went black. Her hands, clumsy in their gloves, grabbed the cadet tethered to her, Ajiri, a tall human boy from some hothouse planet with skin so black it rivaled the dark of space and held on tightly. The other cadet wrapped himself around her in return like they’d been taught in class when facing a potential explosive event to keep from all being separated and alone.

There was no sound in space, no glare to tell them when the explosion happened, but there was a jolt and her suit’s inertial locator pinged, letting her know that she had shifted position and assumed a level of acceleration.

    Viollika counted to ten and canceled her glare filters, wrinkling her nose and hissing as she looked at the spin of the universe outside. “Ajiri, can you hear me?”

    No response.

    “Ajiri?”

    No response.

    She shifted her right hand and thumped him.

    He thumped back.

    With a sigh she hissed again. Shifting around without letting go of him, she got her helmet’s faceplate against his. “Glare filter off, Ajiri. Coms are out.”

    “If that was a warp core explosion that makes sense,” he returned, voice hollow through the helmet-to-helmet contact. When his visor cleared he smiled, relief and good humor mingled. “Suits aren’t shielded enough to avoid damage. The whole area is likely just a big blob on the sensors right now, too, so they can’t find us or beam us out.”

    “Wonderful.” Viollika tapped her thrusters to slow their spin. “Once I get us stopped, we need to find the others and get clustered up to make finding us easier.”

    “Good plan,” he responded with a nod.

    

    It took several minutes to cluster up and count heads with Ajiri’s help, but the other cadets all chipped in once they realized that someone had a plan that let them actually -do- something to affect their situation.

    “We’re missing Hendl,” reported the Bolian cadet, Tyxnea, touching her helmet to both Viollika and Ajiri’s. “He was still in the maneuvering course and no one could reach him to grab him.”

    “Hisspit,” Viollika sighed. “Okay, spread the word to everyone. Stay together but look for him. If someone spots him, pass it down.” She checked her thruster fuel. “I’ll go after him, and you two keep everyone together. We don’t want to string us all out.”

    

    ”Agreed,” Tynexa nodded.

    “You okay on thruster fuel?” Ajira checked after nodding.

    “Sixty-one percent,’ she reported. “That should be plenty.”

    Fifteen minutes later, Viollika was jetting through the void, alone with her thoughts, in pursuit of a rapidly-moving figure in the distance. The quiet in her helmet, the deafening quiet, grew louder and louder until she couldn't stand it any more and breathed the question that she had not allowed herself to ask in the long, lonely months since things had ended.  “Jo? Are you there? Jo?” The secure com network might not work this far out, but the underlying network of systems it depended on did extend this far, and might not be on the right frequencies to be jammed by the warp core explosion. Maybe. Possibly. Oh, she really wanted to just hear Jo’s voice. “Jo?”