When the Chips Are Down

Posted on Sat Oct 12th, 2024 @ 2:11pm by Lieutenant Billson Portillo & Chief Petty Officer Chip Lauder CPMV & Lieutenant Commander Wayne Eastwood

2,391 words; about a 12 minute read

Mission: Boys of Summer
Location: Lauder Family Ranch, Nutbush, Santiago Bay
Timeline: Mission Day 1, 2300 Hours

ON

With the kids in bed and the wife in bed with a headache, Lauder took a minute to sit on his porch and enjoy the evening with a brew. A cooling breeze came through as he took a seat in a creaky, old-fashioned rocking chair, the gentle scent of the ocean spray filling his nostrils. Cracking open his beer, he gazed up into the night sky. He smiled to himself, knowing there were few places as beautiful as the vista he saw above him.

He retrieved his PADD from the cargo pocket of his shorts. On it, of course, was a selection of notifications asking for interviews, engagements and intercourse as ne'er-do-wells attempted to poach him for clout. He disregarded it to scroll through a selection of media, taking a moment to navigate to his classical library; Lux Aeterna was on the menu.

Taking a sip of his crisp light beer, the Chief rolled it around in his mouth as the haunting notes of Ligeti filled his ears. Lauder choreographed the silent ballet above him; the streaking lights of shuttles and starships conducting their business, as well as the orbital complex orbiting overhead. Every detailed was backdropped on a gorgeous sky, the stars of the Milky Way providing a heavenly glow to his realm.

Watching the ethereal showing above, Lauder drifted away, rolling waves crashing distantly. A contented breath inhaled, his chair gently squeaked, the Chief rocking himself to sleep like a baby.

Then it came. Buzz. Buzz. Buzz.

Lauder was jolted awake by his PADD's vibrations. A message was coming through on his official Starfleet com channel-- the one he'd never ignore. Groggy, he lifted the device, the glowing screen nearly blinding him until his eyes adjusted.

A notification read: Crewman Bath- COM-UNOFFICIAL: SUBJ- READ NOW.

Chip stood bolt upright. His beer falling to the ground and pooling on the cold polished concrete below his feet. He put the PADD in his cargo pocket and rushed inside, as though he saw an invading force on the horizon. He rushed through his house, pushing his way through it like he was clearing it against a threat. Thumping down the hallway like it was a CQCB exercise and bursting into his office like he was there to extract a target. His adrenaline pumping and heart pounding, he sealed the room off with a slam of the door.

His throat felt tight, his breathing shallow. He began to sweat, the room felt like an oven as the walls began to close in. His teeth clenched, his muscles strained.

In a vain attempt to regain his composure, he ripped his pocket open, tearing the fabric as he grabbed the PADD and pegged it at his desk. The device's screen shattered, spraying glass across the tabletop. A moment later, his desktop computer access screen came to life with the same notification.

Chip fell to his knees, sweat pouring from him as a fire within lapped at him like the pits of hell. A tortured howl escaped from him as his body strained and tried to rip itself apart.

Then it was over.

Shaking and bathed in perspiration, Chip lay on the floor, struggling to regain his composure. His vision blurred, he struggled for clarity as he heard his broken PADD continued to pulse with notifications.

He struggled to his feet, he knees nearly giving way as he clambered to his desk chair. He swiped the glass from his workstation to the floor as he breathily climbed into his seat.

He stared at the notification on his computer. It stared right back.

He wiped his damp face, and caught his breath. A jittery finger reached towards the screen and tapped the notification. He read the message. He read the attached file. He got on the phone to someone straight away.

From across the room, his PADD screen flickered, the device in its death throws. From inside its damaged speaker came the haunting tones of Lux Aeterna one last time.

| Mission Day 2, 0800 Hours (9 hours later)
| Crustacean Chris Family Restaurant, April Gardens, Santiago Bay

Stepping inside Crustacean Chris, a family chain restaurant that many saw as being both terrible and terribly outdated, Lauder took a deep breath in. He was reminded of his childhood visits to The Chris on Earth. The smell of old seafood and fry oil seemed to be the same at every location across the galaxy-- it was like they bottled it.

The streets of Southport had been quiet, many of its citizens having been redirected into the city for the second observance of Sagan Remembers. A chilly morning felt all the more colder for the lack of activity.

Lauder surveyed the tables, seeing Bath- weedy as ever- across the way. He reached inside he coat, charging his phaser pistol as he walked over, just in case he needed to give the peon the Greedo treatment.

The Chief strolled over to the small square dining table, which looked like it hadn't been replaced in thirty years. A chill ran down his spine as he heard the livestream of the Sagan Remembers ceremony coming through on a nearby screen.

"Mister Bath," Lauder hissed, as not to arouse the suspicion of nearby morning seafood diners/psychopaths as he took a seat opposite the Crewman, "I received your message."

Cameron Bath savoured a rock lobster leg, slurping the contents into his mouth. He placed the empty leg back on the plate and let out a burp and hiccup saying, "Chief, have a seat. You have to try this rock lobster, Chip—it's simply to die for."

"I've already eaten," Lauder replied. "As they say, the early bird gets the worm."

"Wait," Bath interrupted, pointing to Chip's hidden hand under the table. "If you're considering harming me, remember that any harm will lead to the ship's log being exposed. So, Chief, please keep both hands on the table."

"Cam, Cam... the man," Lauder began as he complied, a quiet chuckle as he showed the crewman his hands. The Chief was quiet, considered in his words, "I wouldn't kill a man holding a lobsters leg as he sat at a table in a Crustacean Chris restaurant. We all deserve just a little better than that. Regardless, I do wonder just what the hell you're playing at. These lies... Cam... I just don't get it. This isn't like you, you were so loyal back on the Saber. Are you coping with everything, man? What has Starfleet got you doing now?"

Slamming his hand down with a loud thud that made the plates and cups on the table jump, Cameron wore a smug expression as he glanced at Chip, shaking his head and sneering, "Wouldn't you love to know? Meanwhile, you've been hobnobbing at extravagant functions with Aeyers and Fletcher. I've even heard rumours that Sisko and Picard are eager to meet you. And let's not overlook your entanglements with both women and, at times, even men, despite being married. Meanwhile, I've been tirelessly toiling, stacking barrels and operating bio-mechanical loaders on the dry dock. Ever since the Saber investigation, the outcome has unjustly favoured you, leaving me looking like a complete fool. Chief, don't you dare forget the lengths I went to for you, breaking countless rules."

"I don't know what you're talking about, sorry, Cam," Lauder replied sympathetically. "I know it was a difficult time. A time that, despite my best wishes, required you and so many others to go the extra mile. I do think you're overblowing my fame and prestige a little, though; a couple of functions with the brass, yes, but at the end of the day I'm just an orbital controller. It's important to remember, as I do every day, that you are an important piece of the puzzle, and without you, so many things would go unattended to. I'm sorry you're having a hard time, Cam. Is there anything I can do?"

Shaking his head in disbelief, Cameron scoffed, "That's some supreme bullshit. I guess all those hours spent with Isabella Fontane and her PR team have been teaching you well. Or perhaps those secretive after-hours appointments?" With an air of accusation, he forcefully placed a set of pictures on the table, revealing a scandalous revelation. The images captured Isabella Fontane, partially undressed, pressed against the window of the lavish Presidential Suite at Santiago Bay Hilton. Chip stood behind her with a smug grin, his hands cupping her tender breasts.

"Oh, what a prestigious individual you are, masking one deception with another," Cameron continued, his voice dripping with disdain. "I still can't comprehend how you had the audacity to deliver Chief Engineer T'Var's eulogy at the memorial service, only to later kiss your wife. Knowing only hours before you were... let’s not go there. But let’s say a Christopher Pike Medal of Valour recipient probably shouldn't be cheating on his wife with a hermaphrodite."

He leaned forward, his tone now filled with a mix of accusation and warning. "Despite some claims of it being an accident, it was murder, Chief. And rest assured, Chief, I possess the original copies of these snapshots with the Saber's Logs. So, I advise against testing my patience. I'm not a man to be toyed with."

"If I'm so dangerous, maybe the same goes for me, Cam," Lauder chuckled. He became a little more pensive now, "T'Var... his loss was a loss to the entire Federation, but never forget that I sacrificed him to save you. Without me, it would've been your eulogy I was giving. Do you think T'Var would've even attended?"

Cam's gaze fixed on Chip, frustration etching his features. Dismissing Chip's words, he leaned forward, his voice laced with gravity. "Chief, you grasp the weight of this situation. I've issued my warning, yet the decision to heed it lies with you." Rising from his seat, Cam cast the crumpled napkin onto the table, emphasizing his point. "I possess the incriminating logs and evidence. A mere keystroke could expose them to the Federation. The extent to which you are willing to fall rests solely in your hands."

A smirk played across Cam's face as he confidently delved into his pocket, retrieving his Star Fleet ID for payment. "Besides, T'Var was a insufferable prick at the best of times, is no secret," he quipped. "To be done with this predicament entirely, I require 250,000 Latinum by tomorrow. For an individual of your esteemed stature, such an amount must be trivial. Shall we meet again at this very location for the exchange?"

"Cam, I can't be bribed over an empty threat," Lauder smiled. "However, if it means I can help you work yourself out, I'll do what I can. Why don't I make it 300,000? Consider it a donation to your welfare, maybe you could spend a little on your treatment? Maybe something you can enjoy, even?"

Cam looked at Chip and spoke with a hint of smugness, "Since you're feeling charitable, how about we make it 400,000?" He paused for a moment, considering his next move. "Anyway, duty calls. I better head back to the docks. Will I see you around, Chief?"

"Oh, Cam, I'm trying to my best to eliminate the negative influences in my life. It's a shame you're being this way, especially when I'm doing what I can to help you. But know we must go our separate ways. Perhaps we'll meet again at some memorial when you're feeling better," Lauder said. He pursed his lips, his expression soft, "Just give your word you'll get some help and spend that money right, okay?"

Cam responded nonchalantly, a sly smile playing on his lips as he glanced down at the Chief. "Is that right? Well, just remember, same time, same booth. Once I have my payment, this whole ordeal will be over." With a chilling undertone in his voice, he swiftly made his way towards the exit.

"Sure, man, whatever you say," Lauder smiled. He stood and grabbed a fresh menu from the servery counter, examining it carefully. "Any recommendations, Cam? I simply love making quick work of a bottom feeder."

A grumpy old bat-winged server named Darryn gave Lauder a scowl from behind the counter.

"Cam? Oh, he's gone," Lauder chuckled, looking from the menu to the door, seeing Bath leave like dirty water down a plughole. "Darryn, is it? I meant what I said about bottom feeders, I really enjoy a good crawdad--"

Outside, thunderous boom was preceded by the sound of a revving engine. Lauder shot a look outside, seeing a black vehicle stopped in the middle of the road. His gaze darted back to Darryn's sad eyes, then to the bitumen as he saw Cam lying on the ground, the Crewman's belly on the pavement.

The Chief dropped his menu and rushed to the exit, shouldering his way past gawkers on the footpath to get to his former shipmate. The car that collected Cam peeled away like lightning as Lauder knelt by the boy, grabbing him in his arms like a father to a child. Rolling Cam over, he looked into the boy's eyes as the life seeped from his body.

"No! No!" Lauder struggled, watching the blood trickle from Cam's mouth. Lauder felt his own heart race. He watched Bath's eyes vacantly search for salvation as he drew has last breath. Holding Cam, Chip felt an emotional rush inside. He began to sob, holding the boy tight.

The crowd looked on, helpless as an ambulance siren wailed in the distance. Pushing their way through the crowd came a Starfleet officer, using their military standing to squeeze their way through the crowd. Emerging into the chaos was Billson. She watched Chip kneeling on the ground, as powerless as anyone else as she observed the living renaissance painting before her.

She went to the Chief. He rested her hand on his shoulder. She waited with him as the morning was washed with red and blue light. Medics appeared, pulling Chip away, the hulking Chief Petty Officer falling into Billson's arms.

Within moments, the medical team confirmed Cam Bath dead, they were quick to admit there was nothing they could do. Looking inside Crustacean Chris', Lauder saw the screen showing Sagan Remembers. The cameras lingered on grieving family members during their moment of silence, which was broken with the Rememory Melody.

How incredibly appropriate.

OFF

 

RSS Feed