The Trouble With Thomas
Posted on Sat Apr 16th, 2016 @ 10:33pm by Marine Captain Quentin Harrison & Sergeant Dalton Thomas & Sergeant Major Victor Birchall
Edited on on Sun Apr 17th, 2016 @ 10:55am
Mission:
Further Challenges
Location: Marine Barracks
NCO QUARTERS
MARINE BARRACKS
The welcome he received from the NCO's was a cordial one, despite some of the NCO's showing him the cold shoulder y not welcoming him, but Sergeant Thomas was past caring. The former-Borg drone had fully recovered from his assmilation and had been appointed to a special task group by the regimental commander himself. Thomas went about placing his belongings on his personal table, arranging a picture of a beautiful Deltan woman on the endtable near his bed.
"Welcome to the goat locker, sergeant!" a new voice said above him.
Thomas raised his head to see Sergeant Major Birchall staring down at him. Springing to his feet he was about to shout an "at ease!" when Burhall waved him down. "As you were, boy, as you were. This is a social visit"
Thomas sat back on his bunk, his eyes nervously on the master sergeant. "What can I do for you, sergeant-major?" he asked nervously.
"It's more like what can I do for you," Birchal replied, sitting down on on a chair near Thomas' bunk. "I'll come right to the point; you're not very popular since your mission to retrieve Comander Sakkath and his away team. I would imagine that 70% of the regiment wants your head on a pike, while the other 30 think you're a traitor to both the Fleet and the Marines. Personally, I think you're a victim of circumstances and you got the shaft from both sides."
"Get to the point, sergeant-major," Thomas said, an edge in his voice.
Birchall gave Thomas a warning glare. "I'm trying to save lives here, sergeant. I don't think you'd be a good fit here in the Goat Locker. I can speak to the XO and arrange private quarters for you, should you want them...."
"Tell me, Sergeant-Major Birchall, what is it that Thomas would be needin his own quarters?" asked a low, menacing voice of Captain Quentin Harrison, who had the annoying habit of magically appearing when he was least expected.
"Um, sir, I was just explaining to our new NCO that we don't think he would be suited to life here and that a private setting would be more conducive to his role as a techincal advisor in a top-secret project..."
"Can the balloon juice!" Harrison barked, quickly shutting the sputtering senior NCO up. "I'm sick of this.."
"Sir?" Thomas spoke up. "I'd like to handle this myself, if you don't mind."
Quentin's stern face broke into a knowing grin. "Aye, I think that would be best."
As Harrison left the room, he heard the sounds of a scuffle, furniture breaking, and the muffled curses of what could only be two Marines in a fist fight. The door suddenly hissed open and a stunned Birchall was hurled into the corridor. "If anyone else want's to question my loyalty or honor, they will get what you got!" Thomas yelled as the door hissed shut.
Harrison gave a low chuckle as he helped the dazed Birchall to his feet. "Got a bit more than ye bargained for, eh?"
"I'm bringing him up on charges," gasped Birchall.
"Try it, and you and he will share a cell!" Harrison growled menacingly. "Sergeant Thomas is here to stay and if ye dinnae like that, ye can pack yer bags and get yer ass to the enlisted barracks!" Harrison picked Birchall up off the deck, bringing the now frightened NCO to within inches of his face. "You have a new mission. I want you to deliver a speech about tolerance and respect to your brother Marines. I'll even confine ye to yer quarters for seventy-two hours so that you can write a whiz-bang of a speech. If one more person under me command harasses Sergeant Thomas, you're outta the Corps, just like Kruger will be!"
"Permission to speak freely, sir?" Birchall rasped.
"Granted."
"Thomas is a danger to those around him and has no place in a Marine combat unit! Drumming myself and the chief out of the Corps will not remedy the danger that Thomas has placed this regiment in by his continued presence."
Those were the wrong words to say to Captain Quentin Harrison. "So, a little danger makes ye tinkle in yer panties, is that what yer sayin to me? Well, we can fix that. Effective immediately you are relieved of your duties as senior NCO of this regiment. Get your traps together and get to guest quarters on the station by turn o' the watch. I will not have a man who cannae handle an element of danger under me command. We're Marines, you arsehole! Every fookin Marine here is yer brother.."
"Captain?" came the voice of Sergeant Thomas, now somewhat more composed. "Permission to speak?"
"Go ahead, laddie," Quentin nodded, lowering a very-relieved Birchall.
"Sir, it seems the whole enlisted cadre is up in arms about my presence here. Maybe SGMR Birchall has a point. I should be the one to resign."
Harrison returned his gaze to Birchall. "Get outta me sight!" When Birchall left the scene, Harrison turned to Thomas and frowned. "Lad, the major and i fought to keep you here. I think ye need to give the lads in your unit some time to let things die down. Concentrate on yer duties in the BRRF and things will blow over. Yopur request for early retirment is denied, and as far as I'm concerned the dust-up ye had with that asshole ne'er happened. This is as far as it will go."
Thomas nodded, half-smiling. "Thank you, sir."
Harrison's voice turned brittle, but his eyes were kind. "Ye can thank me by not fucking things up in my project!" Harrison reached into his pocket and handed Thomas a coupon. "Take this to Jackson Banning in the Nexus and tell that old sky-pirate I'm cashin' in a favor he owes me with this! You have liberty until we get the rest of the BRRF assembled, and that will take no less than two weeks!"
"Thank you, captain," Thomas said softly.
"Son, dinnae quit now. Ye've come far, and after what ye've been through, you can go further if ye just tough it out. Take the leave and think things through, then report to the major and meself. I'm sure that Jackson will help ye find yer bearings and set ye on the proper course."
Thomas moved back into his quarters as Harrison walked away, his dark eyes scanning Marines as they nervously crossed his path. When Harrison got to his office he sat down with a grunt. "Computer, pribvate message to Jackson Banning,"
=/\=Proceed=/\=
"Jack, I'm sending ye the lad who shot Sakkath as a Borg. He's physically recovered but he's getting both ends of the spoon that stirred the shit pot in the regiment. I sent him that coupon ye gave me months ago. This lad, thomas, needs it worse than I do. He's lost like I was and needs to find his way back. I need him back in two weeks, refreshed, focused and maybe sportin a tattoo and a girlfriend! Q-Ball out. Send message immediately."
=/\=Message sent=/\=
"Hey, big man, got a minute?" David Lorenz asked, sauntering into Harrison's office.
"Of course,"
"I have here an anonymous report that Thomas assaulted Master Sergeant Birchall a little bit ago. From the sound of this, it seems Birchall got the hell kicked out of him. What can you tell me?" Lorenz asked, looking at Harrison.
"I haven't heard anything like that at all." Harrison said, straight-faced.
Lorenz nodded. "Since Birchall tried to do an end-run around you directly to me, we can add superceding the chain of command to the list of charges for an Article-31 hearing. How long did you ground him?"
"Seventy-two hours."
"Make it indefinite. Sends a message."
Harrison nodded. "Makes it seem like we're coddling Thomas, sure."
Lorenz shook his head. "I don't see it that way, and i know you don't either. Carry on, Q."
Harrison nodded and went back to his work, inwardly wondering if even Jackson could help Thomas regain his sense of self without beoming a violent psycho the way he had been once.
MCPT Quentin Harrison
Looking Out For The Little Guy
SGT Dalton Thomas
Getting Shafted Again
