March
"I just don't know what to do with you!" Cadet Third Class B'Elanna Torres winced at the words spoken by her advisor and Nova Squadron supervisor, Admiral Alexander Chapman. She had never seen him angry before, and wished she didn't have to witness it now. It was Thursday during the lunch hour. Admiral Chapman had been at Jupiter Station for the past week, and had missed Torres walking out of her Interspecies Protocol class on Tuesday. He, of course, heard about the incident, and when she woke up on Thursday morning, she found a message from the admiral ordering her to report to his office at 1200 waiting on her console.
"This is inexcusable," he continued. "I took you on as a member of my lab and the Nova Squadron engineering team. Everything you do if a reflection of me and that team. I left here last week thinking that everything was under control, that my lab was running smoothly and my student engineers were so busy preparing for Rigel that nothing was going to happen, and then I find out that the student I have chosen to mentor not only spoke back to a superior officer in front of seventy other cadets, but also walked out of class early, despite being ordered to return to her seat! Do you have anything to say for yourself?"
"No, sir," Torres managed.
"That's right!" Chapman continued as if he hadn't heard her. "There is nothing that can explain your behavior. I should throw you out of my lab and remove you from the team."
"Sir-" Torres began, but the look on the admiral's face silenced her.
"When is your disciplinary hearing?" he asked.
"Tomorrow morning, sir," she replied.
"And this isn't your first time in front of that board."
"No, sir."
He sighed and ran his fingers through his still-thick silver hair. "I'm not going to remove you from the lab or the team—yet. I'm going to wait and see what the board recommends. If they remove you from the Academy or order you off of Nova Squadron, both of which are within their rights in this case, well, that makes my decision easy. If not, I'll let you stay, at least through this weekend. If you can manage to keep your temper in check through the trip to the flight range, I'll consider keeping you on and letting you go to Rigel. You should consider yourself on probation with me until further notice."
"Yes, sir."
"As for this minute, I believe your class is scheduled to begin in ten minutes. You will go to class, and you will sit politely and pay attention to everything Commander Isaacs has to say. If he has any questions, you will answer them—no exceptions," he warned when she opened her mouth to protest. "You will not talk back to Commander Isaacs or any of your other professors, you will not speak unless you are asked a question, you will stay in class until you are dismissed by your professor. Is that understood?"
"Yes, sir."
"Good. Now see to it. You're dismissed, Cadet."
She turned on her heel and left the office, her face burning in humiliation. It had been a long time since anyone had spoken to her the way Admiral Chapman just did, and she found it was no more pleasant now than it was then. She quickly made her way toward class. Entering the auditorium through the same door she always did, at the top of the stairs, she noticed the conversations grow quieter when she walked in and felt her face flush again at the realization that they had been talking about her.
She was about to make her way to her usual seat when she made eye contact with Cadet Wesley Crusher. He silently pulled out the chair next to him, against the wall in the back row, and gestured with his head for her to sit there. She sat stiffly in the seat and pulled out her PADD as if hoping that ignoring her classmates would make them go away.
"Are they still looking at me?" she asked quietly a minute later.
"A few, yeah," Crusher admitted. "I'm surprised you came back."
"I'm under orders from Chapman. He pretty much told me it's this or I'm off the squad."
"Ouch."
"Yeah," she replied. "As far as he's concerned, I'm under probation until the day I retire from Starfleet." She sighed deeply. "Kahless, this is humiliating."
"Nobody's laughing at you," he said. "In fact, pretty much everyone admires you for what you did."
"For losing my temper and leaving class?" she asked in disbelief.
"For standing up against something that's wrong. Nobody here thinks that it was appropriate for Isaacs to be asking what he did."
"I just hope the disciplinary board agrees."
"Everyone here signed a petition to the board," he informed her. "Saying that you shouldn't be punished for what happened. By this time tomorrow, as far as the Academy is concerned, it will be as if it never happened."
The class stood as one as Commander Isaacs entered the auditorium. "I hope you're right," Torres muttered as they took their seats. Either way, it was going to be a long twenty-four hours.
---
"We have taken the time to review the evidence in this case, including the testimony of Admiral Owen Paris and the statement signed by the seventy-four cadets who witnessed the event in question. It is the opinion of this disciplinary board that the actions of Cadet Third Class B'Elanna Torres were not inappropriate, and as such, no punishment will be given. In addition, a formal investigation will be conducted to look into the actions and statements of Commander Andrew Isaacs," Admiral Aret, an ancient appearing Vulcan, declared in a tone no more revealing than if he had been reading the weather report. "However, in light of Cadet Torres' lengthy record of appearing before this board, we are making a note of this event in her Starfleet Academy record along with the recommendation that she better controls her temper in the future." For the first time, the Admiral glanced down at the half-Klingon cadet. "Cadet, while this is not an order, it has been suggested that you seek assistance in gaining this sort of control. For example, there are several Vulcan techniques that could teach you to control your more basic emotional responses."
Torres flushed slightly at the idea of adopting the stern Vulcan exterior that had so baffled her. "I'll keep that in mind, sir."
Aret nodded once. "This meeting of the disciplinary board is dismissed."
B'Elanna felt a wave of relief wash over her as she turned to leave. She caught the eye of Admiral Chapman, who had been sitting in the back, near the door. He didn't look any more pleased than he had the day before, but he nodded once in acknowledgement. She walked over to him. "You're free to go to the Academy Flight Range this weekend," he said as she approached. "However, as I told you yesterday, I will be watching your actions closely before deciding if you're to go to the Rigel Cup. You have a little more than three weeks to show me that you can be trusted."
Even worse than his yelling the day before was the quiet way he had let her know that she had let him down. "Yes, sir," she replied. He nodded as a dismissal, and she exited the room and headed for her Warp Mechanics course.