The Department of Hard Knocks

Posted on Sat Feb 14th, 2026 @ 7:20am by Lieutenant Commander Rin & Lieutenant Anthony Cardel

Mission: MISSION 0 - History Speaks
Location: Rin's Office
Timeline: Sometime before the Circinus Accident
1475 words - 3 OF Standard Post Measure

Lt. Rin sipped what most would call profoundly over-sweetened coffee as she scrolled through digital files. A whole new cache had been delivered overnight, and now she got to sort it all out and parcel out new assignments to her staff. None of it was terribly interesting, although she enjoyed the analyzing process for its own sake.

The reassignment had been framed as good news. Career advancement, new challenges, the kind of language Starfleet liked to use when a Captain wanted to cut dead weight from their little feudal kingdom.

Anthony had accepted it the same way he accepted most things now. Signed the transfer, packed what he needed, didn’t ask questions that wouldn’t be answered honestly anyway.

He waited just outside the office, listening to the muted sounds of the ship as they bled through the bulkheads. Meetings like this once felt like the start of new adventures. Now all he felt was empty platitudes.

When the doors opened, he stepped inside and came to attention with the ease that came from practice but even after all this time he only felt the spikes of doubt.

“Lieutenant Cardel, reporting as ordered.”

"At ease. Welcome aboard. I'm Lt. Rin. " She stood and offered her hand. Rin was not an imposing figure, standing at about 5'5" with a trim, athletic build. Her motions were deliberate. There was no wasted effort on personal quirks or manner. It wasn't robotic, but it was...impersonal. If was not unlike what one might expect from a Vulcan.

The hand she offered was unmarred, quite at odds with her left hand, which hung at her side. That hand was covered in a web of implants running along her fingers and disappearing into her uniform sleeve.

She gave a slight smile with the gesture. It wasn't fake, but, like everything else, it was deliberate and measured. The implants sitting above and beneath her left eye didn't help matters. That part of her simply did not move in the same manner as the rest of her face.

Anthony leaned forward, his height making the interaction a little awkward already as he grasped his new boss’s hand firmly, without trying to be dominating. He’d learned long ago that just because your boss was shorter than you didn’t mean they couldn’t absolutely split you seven ways to Sunday if you got on their bad side.

It was always a careful dance deciding how honest or dishonest to be with a new department head. His last department head, Lt. Cmdr. Stewart, had learned early on that Anthony wasn’t going to bleed Starfleet, even if the work he produced was always proficient.

The implants hadn’t caught him by surprise. Like every paranoid new employee, he’d done a deep dive on his new boss. He’d read her service record, which reminded him again of Wolf 359. Still, his eyes naturally snapped to the metallic, surgical nature of their design. They were an example of what Borg technology would always be known for across the galaxy.

Perfection.

The word echoed in his mind before he pulled himself back into the reality of the moment, his eyes returning to her. The thought that lingered was how many people had been taken by this xB.

Anthony blinked and drove the thought away. He knew he wasn’t the first to give her that look, nor would he be the last. All he could do was move past the reaction and get on with the job he’d been assigned aboard the USS Elysium.

“Thank you, Lieutenant,” Anthony said, keeping his tone and expression flat.

He’d learned long ago that what mattered most was getting back into a predictable routine.

He didn’t want to stand out.

Anonymity.

That’s what he wanted.

When he spoke again, his tone settled into something familiar and unremarkable.

“I’ve reviewed the departmental briefings. I’m ready to be assigned wherever you need me.”

"I appreciate the eagerness, but, please, have a seat," Rin said, indicating a chair on the other side of her desk from her own, which dropped into. "Where is it you would *like* to be, Lieutenant? Where are you hoping to go from here?"

Anthony paused for a moment before pulling the chair back and sitting down. His eyes scanned across the desk before settling on his new boss, holding her gaze briefly in contemplation.

It wasn’t the question he’d expected. Some department heads were so busy they could barely tread water, much less spend the kind of time the lieutenant in front of him had just decided to carve out.

Still, he wasn’t in a position to argue, and he felt little inclination to do so despite how coolly he viewed the interaction.

“I’m not decided on anything in particular,” he said evenly, keeping his tone professional. “I’m sure the department has areas where I can be slotted in to help strengthen whatever needs improving.”

“I’m here to contribute, Lieutenant,” he added, scratching his knee absentmindedly.

"Yes, here to contribute, team player, will work wherever needed..." Rin sighed. "This is not a job interview. You already have the assignment. You've been in Starfleet 15 years. If I were to believe you, I'd fear you're going to retire before you decide on a direction. That would be a problem even for enlisted crew, but you are not enlisted. You are a lieutenant, and lieutenants don't just fill in where needed. Lieutenants have drive and take initiative. and, according to your records, you used to have that."

She took a breath. "And then you made a mistake. That's what people do. They make mistakes. And you accepted the disciplinary measures without complaint. As far as I'm concerned, that is ancient history. My concern is that's where your file stops. Your work becomes consistently... 'acceptable.' And you might coast your way through the rest of your career being 'acceptable,' but is that really what you want? Because the pips on your collar suggest you don't."

Anthony sat still, absorbing the pointed assessment from his new department head.

He didn’t flinch.

“You’re right,” he said evenly. “I made a mistake. I accepted it. I moved on. Starfleet has sent me where it needs me.”
He understood what she was doing. Pressing for reaction. Testing for something beneath the surface. He wasn’t inclined to bristle.

“What I want,” he continued, “is less relevant than what this department requires.”

His gaze stayed steady.

“If ‘drive’ is measured by volume, then yes, that changed.”

A brief pause.

“If it’s measured by results, my record speaks for itself.”

Another beat, quieter now.

“But if you’re asking whether I’ve stopped caring… no. I haven’t.”

"It's not what I'm asking, but I'll accept it as your answer," Rin replied. That was enough for today. Maybe he'd warm up. Maybe not. Regardless, she got enough of an initial measure of the man. If he was going to be a problem, she could always stuff him in a corner somewhere. But that wasn't going to be today. Today, she was going to assume Starfleet sent her an officer capable of being a lieutenant.

"Do you have any questions? Otherwise, we'll get you set up at a station with an assignment."

“One,” he said after a brief pause.

“What does this department struggle with that isn’t in the official reports?”

His expression remained measured.

“I’d prefer to start where it actually matters.”

Rin frowned slightly as she considered what the intended meaning of that statement was. "Alright, I'm going to assume that was an attempt to show initiative, which I appreciate, as opposed to a complaint that Starfleet is wasting your time. Every position matters. Every job matters, and I trust this is the last time I'm going to need to say that."

She turned to her console and scrolled through a bunch of data. "So, I'll send these files to your station. It's a bunch of chatter in the Badlands, except a lot of it is nonsense. I mean actual nonsense, not just we-can't-decypher-it nonsense, and it took us a long while to figure that out. Clearly, it's meant to cover something else up, and they're doing it well. They may be masking data in the background radiation. We've sent in probes. We've had agents scouting out areas. They've found some pirates, but I don't think that's what we're actually looking for. We're clearly in the wrong area. I'd like fresh eyes on it, and you've had quite a bit of experience with this sort of thing. I have three petty officers working on it. They will now operate under your direction."

She stood and held out her hand once more. "Welcome to the department, Lieutenant."