Title: Herculean Tasks - Chapter 1

Rating: T

Pairings: Space Cases - eventual Davenport/Goddard. "Goddenport" if you will.

Summary: The year is 2261. The conditions surrounding Commander Seth Goddard's demotion don't add up. With hints of Sol System-wide corruption in the United Populated Planets and a government conspiracy hitting close to home, how is he to make a difference when he is "grounded" as a teacher at the Starcademy military school on the outer rim? Of course things get even more complicated when his lifelong mentor, James Davenport, requests a favor. So. Expose a government conspiracy, be a champion for marginalized students, protect his mentor's daughter, and teach a band of misfit kids while operating under the radar with the hopes of getting back into space by the end of it all. Simple, right?

Disclaimer: For InvisibleNinjaPirate who came up with the conspiracy 'verse idea first. I don't own Space Cases.

Chapter 1: A Tall Order

Commander Seth Goddard paced around his Starcademy quarters as he dialed his mentor's vidphone number and waited for him to pick up. When James Davenport's face appeared on the screen, Seth didn't even bother with a "hello."

"I hate doing this," Seth grumbled. "I hate being the bad guy."

"I am doing well, thank you Seth. How are you?" the older man offered, trying to be lighthearted while making a point.

"Sorry, Sir. I'm just very frustrated and wanted to cut to the chase. I need your help."

"It is better to play the part than to become the very thing you are trying to fight," James advised through the screen.

"I know. I just wish your daughter didn't hate me."

James chuckled. "T.J. does not hate you."

"So she only uses colorful language with Starcademy staff members she actually likes? Noted," Seth retorted sarcastically.

"Interesting," James mused with a knowing smile. "She's never been prone to using 'colorful language' as you put it. I wonder where she picked that up."

"Grozit, this is a mess," Seth grumbled.

James tilted his head in question. "Speaking of 'colorful language,' did you just use a Saturnian expletive?"

Seth put his head in his hands. "Too much time around my students."

"There is a Saturnian girl in your class, yes? The one with the invisible friend?"

"Imaginary friend. And yeah." Seth paused to run his free hand through his sandy brown hair, streaked with grey at the temples. "Sir, T.J. is smart. She's insanely smart. She's bound to put the pieces together sooner or later or at least admit to herself that something doesn't add up. And you know she won't leave things well enough alone. She'll probably wind up hacking into the Headmistress's email and—"

"I am aware," James conceded with a nod as he adjusted his wire-rimmed spectacles. "My daughter is quite curious. In spite of her by-the-book attitude, she does have a history of poking her nose where it does not belong if she gets the slightest whiff of injustice. You two are very much alike in that way."

"So what am I supposed to do? She's unknowingly working for the enemy. How do I keep her safe from that?"

"Distract her."

"Sir, I think I have to tell her. I've got three weeks to figure this out and either crack this conspiracy wide open or get T.J. out. But this place and her career...it's her life. She wants to assist in governing a prestigious school that stands for inclusivity: one that teaches diplomacy and promotes peace and defends the rights of all members of the United Populated Planets, regardless of race. And people around her are using it as a breeding ground for xenophobia and violence. I mean, Space only knows what's really going on with the Andromedan colony!"

"It is a tall order, I am aware," James acknowledged.

"You can say that again. So on my agenda for the day: expose UPP corruption, be a champion for marginalized students, protect my mentor's daughter, and teach a band of misfit kids while operating under the radar with the hopes of getting back into space by the end of it all. Piece of cake." Seth sat down on the edge of his unmade bed with a frustrated sigh.

"But you are doing the right thing. And we are most fortunate that with the rules in place, you are giving my daughter enough paperwork to distract her from the truth."

"I can only be late for so many meetings before she gives up on me."

James grinned. "Seth, my boy, she would never give up on you."

"Why not? As the Assistant Principal, it's her job is to enforce the rules. If I break them all, she'll just get fed up with me. It's not like she even cares."

"She just may care more than you realize."

"Sir?"

"She wouldn't contact me to rant about your latest list of infractions so often if she did not care. She used to call me once a week before you started working at the Starcademy. Do you know how often she calls now?"

Seth shook his head.

"Every other day. Our discussions tend to last the better part of an hour. That is a lot of time spent talking about someone who doesn't matter. Wouldn't you say?"

"What does she say about me?" Seth wondered carefully.

James grinned. "If you wish to find out the answer to that question, you would need to ask T.J. yourself."

"What am I supposed to do? Just waltz into her office with a cup of coffee and ask to chat?"

"Of course not." James grinned and his eyes twinkled. "Tea, of course. Two sugars."

Goddard scrubbed his hand down his face. "Space help me."

Goddard trudged down the Starcademy corridors with a frown on his face. He carried two beverage containers—one in each hand—and garnered odd looks from the staff and students he passed in the halls. The truth was he could have used two cups of coffee, but only one of the beverages was meant for him.

"G-good morning, Commander Goddard," Radu offered with a small nod.

Seth stopped and offered the academy's sole Andromedan student a reassuring smile. "Good morning, Mr. Radu. Everything okay today?"

The shy boy bowed his head to stare at the floor. His long curly blond hair fell into his face as he stammered, "Yes, Sir. Th-thank you. Y'know, for standing up for me last week?"

Goddard nodded, not wishing to make a big deal of the incident. "You're welcome. Let me know if there's anything else on your mind, okay?"

Radu licked his lips nervously. "Yes, Sir."

Goddard turned to continue walking toward the administrative offices when he came face-to-face with perhaps his most problematic student, Harlan Band.

"Commander," Harlan greeted his teacher while glaring toward Radu.

"Mr. Band," Goddard offered in warning, noticing Radu shuffling behind him. "Anything going on that I should know about?"

"No, Sir," the young athletic Earther stated, the defiance in his voice evident.

"Best keep it that way," Goddard offered as he continued on. Over his shoulder, he added, "Or I know for a fact a certain assistant principal will give you all kinds of hell."

The Headmistress happened to round the corner then. She huffed at Goddard. "Language, Commander!" she admonished him.

"Bite me," he muttered, without giving her a second glance.

"What was that?"

"Good morning!" he offered brightly with a fake smile plastered on his face. "Did you do something different with your hair? Love it."

The headmistress preened a bit, touching up her hairdo, which Goddard thought resembled the Bride of Frankenstein's: large jet black curls defied gravity in an odd comical flattop.

Rosie Ianni beamed at everyone, wishing all the students good morning individually by name as she practically skipped down the hall. The Mercurian paused to chirp a "good morning" to her teacher and the headmistress as well. She'd overheard Goddard's comments on the headmistress's style and added, "I wish I had hair so I could try that. It looks great, Ma'am!"

The second the headmistress turned away, Goddard made a face of disgust behind her back and mock-shuddered, causing Rosie to shrug and both Radu and Harlan to chuckle. The two boys gave each other a questioning glance before Harlan's scowl reappeared and he continued on his way. Seth waited for Rosie to start talking to Radu and for Harlan to turn the corner before nodding again in the Andromedan's direction and venturing toward the administrative offices. He doubled his pace when he passed Bova and Catalina.

The Saturnian girl tucked a strand of her rainbow hair behind her ear as she turned to the empty space next to her and whispered, "Grozit, he's bringing Miss Davenport coffee? Suzee, how long before we start planning their wedding?"

Bova shook his head and even his antenna seemed to bob in disagreement. "Nah. One of them will kill the other first."

Goddard groaned and turned to glare at the kids. Neither seemed fazed. Catalina giggled as Bova shrugged and offered, "Rest in peace, Commander."

Assistant Principal T.J. Davenport leaned forward on her desk and rested her chin in her hands with a heavy sigh. She frowned as she glanced around her Starcademy office at the placards adorning her walls: certificates and awards boasting her achievements. Her life had been so simple before. She'd put in a lot of hard work, certainly, but at least she felt as if she had her head on straight. Now though, she was in charge of monitoring Commander Seth Goddard: former STARDOG Captain, former heartthrob, and current thorn in her side.

Be honest with yourself, you still think he's handsome. She rolled her eyes and groaned at her inner voice. Yes, she'd harbored a schoolgirl crush on him once upon a time, yes she'd admired his work when he moved quickly through the ranks as a military man in the STARDOGS, and yes she might have fantasized about him as she grew older. But the experience of meeting him in person had been like getting doused with cold water and a hefty dose of reality. He was not the man from her father's stories that she grew up admiring: he'd broken the law, been stripped of his rank, and was bitter about his entire existence. The Headmistress had put her in charge of monitoring his progress as an instructor at the Starcademy as he relearned the rules he'd broken so he could later practice what he preached. This left T.J. as a glorified babysitter who was paid to tattle on the man she once dreamed of—

She groaned again, folding her arms in front of her and resting her head on her desk. She'd vent to her father almost everyday about the latest drama the now-commander was causing, and James Davenport, who'd once held her position at the Starcademy, merely chuckled and smiled, encouraging T.J. to see past Goddard's frustration and apparent disregard for authority—that the man she admired was still underneath the scarred exterior.

"Miss Davenport?"

T.J. lifted her head to see the subject of her wandering thoughts standing in her doorway. Goddard wore his trademarked knowing lopsided smirk: the one that wholly disarmed her. She retaliated by glaring at him to overcompensate and noticed when his concentration wavered. She wondered if perhaps this maneuver of hers was his undoing. But no, then that would mean...

She cleared her throat and stood, sparing a brief glance at the clock on her wall. Her crisp British accent was pronounced when she addressed him. "Commander? We are not scheduled to meet."

"Nope."

"And you have not, to my knowledge, done anything that requires me to lecture you about regulations and procedure today."

His blue eyes twinkled with mischief. "It's still early."

T.J. shook her head and swiped her auburn fringe out of her eyes before getting to the point. "May I ask what brings you to my office?"

"I can't just stop by to say hello? I brought you tea from the canteen: English breakfast, two sugars."

It was only then she noticed he was carrying two travel cups: one she assumed contained coffee (black, as he preferred it) and one containing her standard tea order.

"That was very thoughtful of you," she said, crossing the room to meet him and hesitantly accept the beverage.

"Relax, I didn't do anything to it. Promise."

"You cannot blame me for proceeding with caution, what with your behavior lately," she defended herself. "You've been no better than your students who, by the way, tried to glue me to my chair again this morning."

Goddard made a pitiful attempt at covering a laugh with a cough. "I'll have to talk to them about that." He glanced at her desk. "So the chair you were just using...?"

"Is borrowed from another member of staff." She shifted uncomfortably.

"And your chair...?"

"Was once identical to the principal's in every way." She cleared her throat. "As of this morning, there is now one significant difference."

Goddard gaped at her in shock.

"Your students did not mean to glue the principal to her chair, you see. So you can honestly say that they are not to blame for the incident if you are asked."

"You... But... Why...?"

"Perhaps I'm spending too much time around you. Or perhaps I am just growing tired of filling out paperwork for you and your students. Or perhaps I dislike the principal as much as you and the children do." She took a small sip and hummed in approval. "This tea is from the canteen, you said?"

Seth was still processing what T.J. had done. He snapped out of his stupor with an, "Uh, yeah."

"How is it you've used their meager supplies to prepare a better cuppa than I've ever managed?"

He shrugged, recovering with his usual dry wit. "Guess it's one of my many talents."

"Yes, well, thank you for the tea, but I do not have time to chat right now. I have an administrative meeting scheduled in fifteen minutes that I am required to attend. I'd hoped the Headmistress would be otherwise occupied, however I do not think I will be that lucky "

"What's the meeting about?" It was an odd question, and Seth ran his free hand through his hair and rubbed the back of his neck as he leaned against the doorframe.

T.J. quirked an eyebrow at him. She didn't see the harm in telling him. "It would appear we are to discuss admitting more Andromedan students. Several members of the Starcademy Board are against the idea, given Mr. Radu's less-than-stellar performance."

Seth cocked his head to the side, and T.J. swore she noticed actual concern on his face. She also now noticed that he was blocking her way out. "They have to know that one student's performance doesn't reflect the potential of an entire race of people."

"Nor is his current performance indicative of his own skills," T.J. added with a sigh. "He appears to be extremely bright, though painfully shy. And the poor boy is being relentlessly bullied. During one such incident last week, I believe you were the one who intervened."

"Radu knows his own physical strength, so he refuses to fight back. The last thing he wants to do is hurt someone. You and I both know he could snap someone in half with his pinky without even trying."

"I would say that you are using hyperbole, but you are not that off the mark," T.J. conceded.

"I found him curled up in a ball on the floor as a group of entitled asshole kids beat up on him. I broke up the mob."

"And slammed a student against the wall in the process."

"I pushed Harlan away after he dared to take a swing at me too." Goddard took a sip of his coffee and shrugged. "Wasn't my fault the wall was there. Oddly I haven't been reprimanded by the 'Headmistress of Frankenstein' for that one yet," Seth mused.

T.J. had been taking a sip of her tea and sputtered as she tried to swallow her beverage and laugh at the same time. She ended up coughing and dribbling a good amount of tea on the floor as she hunched over, careful not to spit the drink all over herself or Goddard.

"You okay?" Seth wondered. The smile was back again, but there was also a look of genuine concern that flitted across his features momentarily.

T.J. brought a hand to her chest as she coughed once more before clearing her throat. "I am fine, thank you."

"So, are you gonna write me up for that?"

"We shall see," T.J. mused. "However, whether or not I remember to file all of my reports is another matter entirely."

Seth blinked back his surprise. "This isn't like you."

"I do not know what you mean." She gave a shy smile in return. "Back to the matter at hand: Mr. Band's tendency to lash out is definitely cause for concern. And the high expectations and emotional trauma, in addition to the language barrier have the deck stacked against poor Mr. Radu. He has come to me with his concerns—and I admire that he took that step to ask for help. I've attempted to issue disciplinary action toward those who have given him grief, but the rest of the staff have not properly enforced those punishments. I've even held private tutoring sessions with Radu in the hopes that additional instruction would help his grades improve. Sadly, it would seem you and I are the only ones looking out for him."

"Rosie Ianni has been kind to him," Seth offered.

T.J. smiled softly. "Yes, it is in her nature to see the best in everyone. It is a shame her grades have slipped so much. Though I don't know how well she would do out in space, as impressionable as she is. She is entirely too trusting." T.J. blinked as she considered the man before her. She came to a realization, "For as much as you complain about the class of students you've been assigned, you do seem to care about their wellbeing, Commander."

He shrugged. "For as much as you complain about being assigned to monitor me, you seem to care about my wellbeing."

The comment took her by surprise. "Well, Father seems to still believe in you. You were his brightest pupil, and once held a record of accomplishments to which other students aspired. You may have 'fallen from grace' as it were, but you were once very noble indeed. I suppose I hope that once you conclude your pity party, you will acknowledge your potential and rise to the occasion. It would make everyone's job a lot easier and may even benefit the students if you were to cease your juvenile nonsense and apply yourself to teaching; that way they could succeed with your guidance. I believe your students could learn a great deal from you."

Goddard swallowed thickly. He hadn't considered that he had been sabotaging Radu with his calculated "nonsense." T.J. would vote to allow more Andromedans into the Starcademy, and her absence from the meeting she was supposed to attend would only serve to once again "stack the deck against Radu" and his entire race. Seth's heart sank. He couldn't win. "I've been given a Herculean task," he whispered.

"Surely your students are not lost causes, like many believe them to be," T.J. stated matter-of-factly. Gently, she added, "Just as you are not a lost cause, like others may believe you to be...or even perhaps as you believe yourself to be."

Something shifted between them as she looked up at him with kind eyes and a sympathetic smile. How she continued to have faith in him after everything he'd done was a mystery. Yes, she often lectured him, but anyone else would have given up on him ages ago with the number of stunts he'd pulled. She admitted she'd been going easy on him and trying to help him when most people would have recommended he be fired and forbidden from teaching ever again. He was a distraction from her responsibilities, and he would surely ruin her career if he continued, even if he had the noblest intentions. In trying to protect her, he'd failed to see the bigger picture.

"I've failed so many people," Seth whispered in a moment of vulnerability.

"Is that why you've set out to sabotage yourself?" T.J. wondered. "If it has been your goal to disappoint me, you have not succeeded in doing so. Father and I still have hope for you."

"I don't deserve it."

"Well. Agree to disagree. Davenports can be very determined."

"You mean stubborn?"

She didn't miss a beat. "If you like. Regardless of what you choose to call it, Father insists that you do share this quality with me, and indeed with him. Best to pick a name that makes it sound like a strength rather than a weakness, wouldn't you say?"

"Touché." Seth took a deep breath before stepping aside. "Better get to your meeting," he offered with a frown.

T.J. held his gaze for a moment, searching his eyes and wondering what had caused him to suddenly appear so somber. "Thank you for the tea, Commander," she offered kindly.

His eyes were downcast as she brushed past him. "It's literally the least I could do," he all but whispered.