Lt. Commander Solaris McLaren - Reliving.

[Theo Whittaker]

This was an excellently written character study that I actually snook off from my desk at work to read! ❤️ @Solaris

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(( Starfleet Intelligence Headquarters - Vauxhall Cross - London ))

 

Sol sat quietly in the interview room. She didnt appear particularly upbeat or happy. Neither was she depressed. She was just currently existing. This was now the third of what she was sure was going to be the same interview she had already had two previous times, and likely would atleast a few more times in the coming days. It was a test to see if her story remained consistent. Part of her road back to active duty. Of course there was also counseling, and medical checks too. But those were somehow less annoying.


She wasnt in uniform, but she wasnt dressed as she normally would have been. A bandage covered her forehead above her left eye and she wore a black glove on her right hand. Reminders of what she had been through. Wyn had done his best, but he couldnt remove everything. Some of the implants had fused to her. They were dormant, and there wasnt even a nanoprobe to be found in her. He had said he would find a way, but Sol had waved him off it, thinking she needed a reminder of what happened when you were careless. Her hair cascaded down her back and over her shoulders. She was dressed in a semi-professional looking blue dress, and a pair of black heels, one of which clacked on the floor impatiently.


She reached up fiddling with her sunstone necklace, as the door opened and the interviewer walked in a few PADDs in his hands. The three gold pips on their collaer glistened even in the dim like of the room.


Interviewer: Commander McLaren. Thank you for coming.


McLaren: It's not as if I had much of a choice.... but you know... sure.


The interviewer chuckled, organizing their PADDs.


Interviewer: No... not as such.


Sol rolled her eyes, letting the sunstone pendant rest against her chest. The interviewer slid a PADD across the table.


Interviewer: On your most recent mission, the Operations staff of Starbase 118, including yourself, were tasked with dealing with an emerging situation on Miri four alpha. Correct?


Sol skimmed the PADD, which was her own report of the situation on the moon and the resoulution that the crew had engineered, including the apprehension of the person who caused the situation in the first place. If she had known what would have occurred after she wouldn't have departed before the rest of the crew of the Narendra had. She nodded, setting the PADD back onto the table.


McLaren: That's correct.


Interviewer: What happened after the conclusion of that mission?


Sol sighed. She had gone through this twice and it was growing old.


McLaren: I was contacted by Admiral Vivian Hauke, the commander-in-chief for the Trinity Sector. She requested my presence on Raskor, believing there was a situation brewing here in Sol after she had received several worrying reports.


Interviewer: And how did you get to Raskor?


McLaren: The starship Kongo, a ship tasked to Intel in Trinity, picked me up from the moon and dropped me off. :: Sol paused for a brief moment then continued premepting the Interviewer's next question. :: I met with the Admiral very briefly and then departed via a slipspace courier for Earth.


The interviwer flashed her a look.


McLaren: Youve asked me the same questions every time Ive been in here... you cant be surprised I have them memorized.


Interviewer: What happened when you arrived on Earth Spacedock?


McLaren: I checked in with the station's Director of Intelligence and informed them of my task. I then proceded to commence my investigation, with some assistance from that stations intelligence department.


The interviewer tapped a few notes into one of his PADDs, sliding another across the table.


Interviewer: I see. :: He paused. :: It was aboard the station where everything ocurred?


McLaren: For the third time, yes. While the station was preparing for the festivities to commence, there were several unexplained systems malfunctions. Believeing them to be related to the reports Admiral Hauke received I investigated. None of the systems seemed relevant to anything related to the Frontier Day celebrations, but they were too conincidental to ignore.


Interviewer: What did you find in the course of your investigation?


McLaren: I spent some time in the lower sections of the station. Much of the crew were on parade duty for the launch of the Enterprise, so those sections were mostly empty at the time.


Interviewer: Commander--


Sol sighed, fixing the Commander in front of her with a pointed look.


McLaren: Im getting there... context is important... context is everything, you should know that. :: She paused, taking a breath. :: I dismissed the few officers assisting me while I continued my investigation. No reason everyone should miss the launch of the Enterprise.


Interviewer: You didnt want to see it?


McLaren: Youve seen one big starship launch youve seen them all. Also, Im fairly disappointed that Starfleet would have wasted that ship with an early decommissioning so I saw no point to take part. PLus I was there to work.


The interviewer just made some notes.


McLaren: I was alone when the ship launched, though I heard Admiral Shelby's speech over the internal comms. I have to say hearing Shelby praise something so... Borg-like... was something else, especially given the hindsight I now possess.


The interviewer tapped his finger on the desk. Sol just smiled, taking her time.


McLaren: Shortly before she activated the formation system, the section of the station I was in went dark. No internal communications, no lights and even the doors barely worked. As I advanced further into the section, I started to observe evidence of Borg incursion on to the station. Bulkheads were covered in their tech, but not a 


Interviewer: And then?


McLaren: I started to make my way out of the section, but was ambushed by several drones, right around the time the formation system was activated. I managed to take one down but was overwhelmed shorlty after.


Interviewer: You were assimilated at this point?


Sol glared at the interviewer. Why? She had no idea. They were correct, that was when it had happened. She closed her eyes focusing on her breathing. She felt her hand start to shake, and quickly pulled it off the table, clenching it into a fist. She could feel the tendrils that were still running down the back of her hand and fingers rubbing against the inside of her glove. The interviewer just sat there silently, observing her. Sool took a few more breaths. She had never had qualms about walking into dangerous situations. Going undercover. Fire fights. Starship battles. Unknown planets. But even thinking about what happened was enough to bring her to pieces.


McLaren: Yes. :: She continued speaking. :: A terrible feeling... hot and cold... quiet and loud... all at the same time.


Interviewer: Commander you don't--


McLaren: Yes I do! You asked. You always ask. :: She sighed. :: I dont understand what happened to the younger members of the crews later on... but I know what happened to me. I remember in in vivid detail. :: She stood, pacing a bit on her side of the table. :: I was taken deeper into the section. They had converted it into their own tidy little unimatrix. I was implated with technology...  sent against my own crew... my own family.


She hadnt gone this far the last two times. Those had just been standard recountings.


Interviewer: Commander you seem agitated...


McLaren: Really? Agitated? I was violated within an inch of my life! Agitated doesnt even begin to cover it, Commander. :: She turned to face the Commander still seated across the table. :: And now I get to relive it. Multiple times, thanks to this farce. :: Not to mention the counseling sessions. And the veiled looks she got from the crew on the Narendra itself. :: Ive told my story the same every time... what happened on spacedock, on the Narendra... everything is consistent. So, due respect Commander, make your report... but stop calling me in here to do this little song and dance. Youre handsome, but you arent my type.


Sol set herself down in the chair, resting her head in her hands. The interviewer tapped a few more notes.


Interviewer: I anymore will be necessary Commander.


Sol looked up, raising an eyebrow. Just waiting for them to continue.


Interviewer: My report will clear you of any blame. Medical will have to clear you for duty... but Intelligence is satisfied for you to return to your old position when that time comes.


McLaren: Why now? Why not after the second time?


Interviewer: You were disassociating from it. If you had kept going down that path... you wouldnt have been any good to us... and you are a good agent. I needed to see that you werent at risk of that... because it would put you or your crew in danger in your line of work.


McLaren: So all I had to do with yell at you? If I had known that...


Interviewer: Well, I would have preferred not... you are well known for your fiery gazes, and they live up to the rumor... but its a start. :: He gathered his PADDs, standing. Sol looked up at him. :: I hope your recovery is speedy, and smooth, Commander McLaren. Have a good afternoon.

 

 

 

He turned and left the room, leaving Sol slightly bewildered. She leaned back in the char for a moment, hand returning to her pendant. She laughed, before standing herself and heading out of the room herself. She had been expecting it to go longer and now was at a loss for something to do. She strolled down the corridor, having only been to the building a few times. Maybe she would just go back to the Narendra... no, too many looks there... she would visit home. See her parents. Maybe have a nervous breakdown. Yea... that sounded good. Mostly.

 

 

~~~

 

 

Lt. Commander Solaris McLaren

Director of Intelligence

Starbase 118 Ops

C239210SM0