"If it is nothingness that awaits us, let us make an injustice of it; let us fight against destiny, even without hope of victory."
-Miguel de Unamuno
Stardate 2258.45 San Francisco, Starfleet Academy [Present day]
Academic Probation. The notification beeped in reminder across Atlas's PADD as it automatically pulled up her inbox, receiving a message. Wether it was a taunt or a simple prompt it appeared with the following words: lateness will not tolerated, expect to arrive ten minute early or proper disciplinary action will be administered.
Her grip curled around the device slightly harder than necessary as a quick, but shaky, sigh managed to slip past her full parted lips. It wasn't the thought of probation that bothered her per se. The reform classes would be a slight inconvenience, but nothing Atlas couldn't handle. No, it was the disciplinary advisor assigned to her that was the problem. Out of all the honor students or professors that could have been chosen they had to choose him. The one person she disliked the most in the whole of the creation. A man who had once been her academic rival, even if he never admitted to it—though his sable eyes always stated otherwise. The same man that seemed to live to insult her intelligence and try her patience with his frustrating attitude. He had a special way of getting under her skin. Ever since the first time she laid eyes on him.
So how in the hell had she ended up staring his closed office door in an empty hallway while other cadets went home for the night or off campus to unwind, trying to build up the courage to face her old foe and the humiliation that would follow with the encounter? Atlas could swear her current situation started by saying yes to Archer's proposal. Unfortunately, the truth was, it really all started with damn a sneeze.
Stardate 2258.40 Starfleet Academy [Five days ago]
Achoo! Atlas Carter jerked up in her bed from the violent expulsion before falling back into the mattress with a miserable groan. This was not how she wanted to start her day. Vision swimming, body aching, feeling hot and cold all at the same time while her head pounded like a Moroccan drum. Needless to say she'd caught something. Probably from her lab partner in Turn-of-the-Millennium Technology, the Denobulan had been lookin' a little oozy the other day. Fortunately for her she was pretty sure what ever she had was treatable. Only problem was she didn't exactly want to report to starfleet medical to have it done.
Atlas's attitude of hospitals was never very conducive to her health, she knew that. And it wasn't because she was too proud or anything, she just had an extreme dislike of hypos. Well, anything needle like actually. Most would state the fear was irrational but with her childhood, and the crap she'd survived, it was also justifiable. Didn't make her feel any better about though. She hated seeming weak.
So when her roommate—a female betazoid with an odd penchant for walking around their shared room naked—went to rouse her that morning, as Atlas was usually up before her, she had to beg the woman not to drag her sorry ass to medical. A feat she deliriously managed to accomplish. So, Atlas resigned herself to a slow agonizing recovery.
Heaving onto her side she pried her tangled limbs from the regulation bed sheets to make a grab for the vitamin-c perched on the nightstand. It wouldn't do to pass out from dehydration, and she needed the immune boost, after all she had class in a few hours. She just happened to be lucky enough to contract whatever it was on her one class day. Of course I'd be a true blessing if she's contracted it when she had none. Wishful thinking on her part.
Gulping down the glass of orange juice greedily she coughed when it traveled the wrong way, straining her already abused throat—grating it like sand paper. Returning the cup quickly, and hacking up a lung, Atlas moaned as her fit ended and rolled back into bed. God she felt like crap. If only Bishop were there. She whimpered at the thought and curled on her side. Coming back was exactly as hard as she thought it would be. Everywhere reminded her of the man. His memory lingered around corners and classrooms, his ghost laughing and scolding her in the labs and the mess hall, there was no where she could escape that Atlas didn't catch a glimpse of a past that only existed in her mind. And it was that exact thing that kept her from sleep. Which was probably the very reason she was sick in the first place. After all, she'd settled back into academy life three and a half weeks ago. That's a long time to go without sleep. Probably left her immune system compromised. Damn it!
But it was those awful moments of weakness that she truly pined for Bishop by her side. He always made her comfortable, always made her feel safe and even somehow manage to gain her complete trust. Hell, he was the only doctor she'd ever let near her with a hypo. Which was why at that moment she really truly needed him. He would make her better. But he was gone. Dead. And there was nothing to be done about that. It was time to move on, she knew that, it'd been three years, only she didn't know how. Nor did Atlas believe she deserved to be over it. So, she'd lay down and suffer. Beating her illness the old fashioned way. In misery.
With another sneeze Atlas buried her head into a pillow and squeezed her eyes shut, trying to slumber. A noise, somewhere across the room, permeated the darkness beginning to consume her. Like someone accessing the keypad to enter, but with her head throbbing the way it was she couldn't be sure, nor did she care. And so she paid it no mind; as long as she was left alone. Unfortunately that wasn't the case. Instantly two bodies intwined in a duel of tongues and limbs stumbled in, bags falling to the ground as they knocked items laying on a side table to the floor in their haste to the adjoined bedroom.
Atlas cracked her eyes open at the commotion, glaring at her roommate and male companion for interrupting the silence. As the two continued on, like she wasn't there, divesting the each other of their shirts with a fevered frenzy, the violet eyed woman casually regarded the asian male unclasped her roommates bra. "Is this gonna be a recurring thing or a casual fling? Just so I know if we need to set up some ground rules or something, like a sock on the door."
Danica, the unabashed Beltazoid with a pixie figure, jumped at the sound of another voice in surprise but didn't move to cover herself. Neither did her male counter part, though he did appear slightly embarrassed by the situation. "Sorry," the Beltazoid apologized looking a little lost, "I didn't think you'd be…uh, here. Um...look, this is my casual friend Sulu. Sulu, Atlas Carter. Atlas, Hikaru Sulu."
Atlas grunted a hello then pulled up her blanket, snuggling into it. "Hey, is she all right, she looks a bit peekish," Hikaru inquired with what sounded to be general concern. She almost snorted at the absurdity. No one felt concern for her. He was probably more concerned about not catching anything.
Danica ran a hand up and down her male friends biceps as she eyed her ailing roommate, "She's caught something, but since Medical let her rest at home it must not be to bad."
Atlas scoffed, "I didn't go to medical. I told you I wasn't going to that place. I just need a little rest and then I'll be fine."
The other woman raised a dark delicate eyebrow at that. Clearly not expecting that response. "So then you're just planning on playing hooky then? That's brave. I heard the professor for Plasma Physics is a hard ass known to fail a student for even the smallest infraction."
The orange haired woman jolted into an upright position, eyes wild and wide. Shit. Tossing the blanket to the floor, not caring about her half naked state or the eyes now currently ogling her black undergarments wishing they were gone. "Hooky?! How am I playing hooky? What time is it?! Computer time!?"
"Fifteen minutes past seventeen hundred hours."
"Ah hell," Atlas shouted jumping up so fast the room spun, "I'm late! How am I late!? It was only ten o'clock a few minutes ago. When the heck did I fall asleep!?"
Panicking, she hastily grabbed her red pants on the floor and shimmied into one leg after the other stumbling over to grab her reg shirt from the back of a chair. Shrugging it on Atlas quickly scanned the room for her PADD like a chicken that lost it's head, spotting it near two very bemused and equally entertained cadets. With an awkward shuffle she grabbed the damned thing and retreated from the room out the front door. Where had the time gone.
Sulu glanced down at the woman wrapped in his arms. "So she's the Atlas Perseus Carter everyone's been talking about? I thought she'd be more..."
"Cocky and arrogant, pretentious, ugly?" Danica supplied whilst moving her hands to thread them through his hair, eyeing his lips like a hungry predator does a meal; ready to devour them. And Sulu notices the look with a coy smirk. Grasping her hips he steered them towards the bed, deciding to pick up where they left off. "I was gonna say male. Now," he grinned, "I think there was a challenge issued on the dexterity of a helmsman's hands."
Shit! Cadet Atlas hit the ground running, sprinting towards Tucker hall. The thought of bad things come in threes rang through her head like a nineties pop song. Number one would be her cold. Hopefully two wouldn't be failing her class. After all, Professor Matheson had a particular dislike for the light haired ginger. Not Atlas's fault really. Due to Archer's cover story she'd gained, or rather regained—depending on one's outlook on the matter—a reputation of sorts. While previously she had been met with disdain by fellow peers and staff due to her premature advancement to the rank of captain—pending graduation—that came with being intellectually superior and going above and beyond during a training exercise that had gone wrong, saving thirty-three lives total. Now the animosity was due to the leeway given by the brass when she'd disobeyed direct orders and went AWOL, yet still maintained some semblance of rank nor received a dishonorable discharged. Most felt it was a political move due to the nature of her investigation, bringing light to starfleet and federation negligence, others felt it was favoritism. Either way Atlas couldn't be bothered. She was there to complete a job, not make friends. That was it.
Of course, that's not to say everyone felt negatively towards her. In fact, her combined reputation from before and after her three year hiatus had created sort of a legend. A hero of the people if you will. Probably why some cadets tended to stare like they wanted to start up a conversation and go for a drink. But that was it. Just staring. No one ever seemed able to approach her, well no one nice anyways. The only people to approach her out of class were those with negative intentions; wether it be a snide remark or a bruising shoulder check in passing. It was nothing she couldn't handle. Atlas had thick skin, so few things ever got to her. Now only if she could get to class.
Rounding a corner, black boots smacking hard on the tarmac, Atlas ran down one off the lesser used courtyards, now emptied of students already in their assigned studies. It was lush and green, like a smaller version of the botanical garden on campus, quietly nestled with little seating areas here or there that paired well with the romanesque architecture of the buildings surrounding it. Or it should have been empty.
Before there was even anytime to react a foot shot out from behind a structural pillar at her legs, sending her sprawling forward into the pavement. Body scraping painfully from the momentum into the grain. She winced.
PADD skittering a foot or two across the walkway, Atlas stifled a groan and shakily stood up, brushing off her uniform as she went and ignored the sting of her palms. Today was just not her day. But the question was did she waste her time and confront the Neanderthal or carry on like nothing happened. It's funny that she thought she had a choice.
"Where are you off to in such a hurry? You're master calling!?"
A choir of male laughter erupted through the courtyard, obviously some inside joke she wasn't privy to as it wasn't a particularly good insult. The guy was no comedian that was for sure. But she had to let it slide, being in no condition to do anything else. That and time was ticking.
Atlas, moving forward, leaned over to pick up her device when a large boot stepped on it with a crunch, sending tendrils of cracks splintering across the delicate screen. Fucking assholes. Did they have no concept of personal property!? Replacements cost 700 credits.
"What in the hell," Atlas growled with a glare at the six foot tall slab of meat grinning like a shit before her. With mocking surprise the bastard, who looked like he'd been eating steroids since birth, addressed his band of lackeys that seemed to appear from no where. Each equally as muscled. All probably jughead's from the security track. "Well, would you look at that, Admiral Archer's prized pet speaks! I guess you can teach an old dog new tricks."
The others began chanting woof, woof, woof, goadingly before belting out in another round of laughter. The pricks. Containing the urge to strike out Atlas bit the inside of her cheek, close to drawing blood. She really didn't have time for this crap. Especially as her vision doubled before normalizing with a few fast blinks. Dammit, she needed to sit down. Hell, she needed to get to class. The giant, however, caught the reaction and mistook it for something else.
"Aww, you gonna cry," he patronized with a coo. No, but she was gonna pass out. Atlas was a right mess. Bosom heaving from physical exertion, a sickly sheen of sweat covering her body, face flushed from fever, she was in no shape to be taking on the idiots. So, she made to move past the brick wall. Abandoning her ruined PADD. It just wasn't worth the trouble.
The brick wall though, had other ideas, and blocked her path. A little irritated by the juvenile behavior Atlas tried again only to be met with the same outcome. She'd go left, he'd go left. She'd go right, he'd go right. Knowing this dance wasn't going to end anytime soon Atlas turned around, deciding to take a longer route to avoid confrontation. Unfortunately one of the lackey's adopted the actions of his leader and blocked her exit. It didn't appear as if they'd be letting her go so easily as Atlas found herself being encircled like prey. Never had those who resented her been so bold. Even if it was only a matter of time before things escalated.
"Listen, cut the shit. I have to get to class so either get out of my way or-"
"Or you'll what," an orion cadet interrupted from the right, "You can barely stand mutt. Do you actually think you can take us!?"
No, not really. Truthfully her legs felt like wet noodles and it flustered Atlas that it was so apparent, but even more she was angry. Angry that clearly the only reason she'd been confronted was due to her weakened state. The cowards couldn't face her when she was in peak condition. No, they had to wait till she was on deaths door. If it was any other day she might find it slightly flattering they had to stack the odds as they feared facing her in a fair fight. Today was not that day though. Growling she took a step forward, "Move or-"
Green hands shot out and pushed her backwards causing her to stumble into the giant who in turn repeated the gesture with a snicker. Stopping herself from ending up a hot potato being shot around the circle Atlas managed to hold her ground with a wobble.
"Look at how weak she is. How the hell did she ever get the highest marks in Advanced hand-to-hand recorded!?" One of the younger cadets grunted with a sneer. The Orion leered, devouring the lithe hour glass figure of Atlas with a heated glare, "Isn't it obvious? I mean we all know the only reason she was able to get were she is is because she sucks any cock like some bitch in heat for a good grade. Why else would anyone keep her around if not for good head!? Not like she has any actual qualifications or merit. Probably slept with the proctor to get those high aptitude scores the admiral always boasts about."
Another one laughed with a snort, "Just some undeserving slut that took the easy way. Well, we're not gonna stand for it any longer."
The giant, who had seemed to be waiting for this moment, took an offensive step forward. Bearing down on Atlas with cold hard judgement. She wouldn't be surprised if they'd all rehearsed it all sounded so scripted. "We all have to pay our dues to gain rank and respect," he snarled ominously, "You don't get to jump the ladder. You don't get to get away with disobeying a direct order. So if headquarters won't take it upon them selves to discipline you we will. From now on it'll be our personal mission to teach you your place."
Atlas didn't even have a moment to catch her breath before a slap collided with her face. A bitch slap no less, snapping her head to the left with such speed she could have sworn something cracked. She almost fell over and stumbled backwards, ears ringing, but a swift kick in the ass sent her flying back towards the ringleader. A man who already prepared to deal another helping, arm poised to strike. But Atlas knew she wouldn't be able to stand another blow to the head, one more hit and she'd go down as the world already began to spin around her in a daze. If she thought her skull was pounding before it was now like taking a knife to the brain over and over again.
Reacting without thinking, her years of training finally kicking though the haze of fever, Atlas shot put her fist into Goliath's throat with all the force she could muster—sending him sputtering to the ground, clutching at his neck for air. Then she finished the move by curb stomping on his crotch to make sure he didn't recover. Because there was one thing those idiots didn't know that they were about to learn, Atlas never played fair. Because if she had learned anything in life no one else did. Today was a prime example.
It didn't take long though for the others to jump in. A fist instantly connected with her side, momentarily knocking the wind out of her with a thwack, but she pushed through the panicked feeling and spun towards her attacker. Quickly bringing her hands up and chopping them down into the junction between his thick neck and shoulders, pinching down on the bundle of nerves and then kicking him in the stomach with her left foot Atlas sent the man flying back a few feet where he landed down for the count. She was so into fight or flight mode that is didn't even register when a loud voice shouted across the court yard. What she did notice though was her legs being swept out from under her by the beefy Orion, paired with an elbow blow to the gut.
Atlas landed on the ground with a snap, fighting for breath and consciousness as pain shot up her spine. Head lolling to the side she managed to catch a flash of red and yellow barreling towards her at warp speed. And right when a thunderous leg was about to stomp down into her face said flash jumped over her, tackling the Orion to the floor. Sluggishly following the action, Atlas watched as the newcomer laid waste to the green man. Throwing bruising punch after punch into the others face as he straddled him. However before the other two security cadets could intervene they ran off spotting something in the distance. Clearly not liking the odds.
A gruff southern voice hollered presumably to the blonde man, "Dammit Jim! I can't keep my eye off you for one bleepin' second without you jumpin' into trouble! If you keep pullin' this crap you're gonna get expelled and I'll be damned if you take me with you. Now get up we gotta go!"
Jim stopped his assault and stood as his scruffy friend pulled along side him exasperated. Only he didn't leave. Instead the man turned and approached Atlas as she tried to get up, failing as exhaustion hit her. She just didn't have the strength required to get up. Nor the air. And it was too damned hot. God why did everything have to suck!
"Ah hell!" the grump groused spotting her, "You clocked a girl Jim. Are you out of your friggin mind!"
"Bones, I hit on women, not actually hit them. Those assholes were beating the shit out of her when I got here." The blonde explained as he came to stand over Atlas with his friend. He was quite a looker. Full shapely lips, blue eyes so vibrant they appeared to glow, strong jawline, and a tight muscled physique that clung to his uniform like a second skin. Not that Atlas cared about such things.
Noticing her analytical eyes he gave her an appraising look, cocking those lips into a smile that what one might consider sexy as sin. "Well, hello gorgeous."
Atlas squinted up at the blonde in disturbed confusion toward his flirtatious tone. Did he not notice how sickly she appeared. "Did you get kicked in the head by the Orion? Because I'm pretty sure I look like shit." She slurred due to her injured jaw. Bone's snorted in amusement as his friends face fell, the usual Kirk charm not having that desired effect, but his gruff features hardened when he noted the visible damage the bastards had inflicted. He squinted those souther comfort colored peepers at her. Clearly there was something more going on than an assault. She was a little to flush and out for breath for his liking.
Squatting down next to Atlas, Bone's ran a tricorder over her, "So, you gonna tell us why a bunch third year linebackers came at you like white on rice or you gonna let us come to our own assumptions."
Groaning she tried to swat away the tricorder but he was to quick for her. Atlas pouted as she gave up. Moving was to cumbersome anyway. "Does it really matter? I didn't start it if that's what you wanted to know. Now if you could help me up I'm late for class."
Struggling to sit she was pushed back down by strong hand. "Sorry darlin' but you ain't going anywhere today but the hospital. With the fever you've got running I'm surprised you were able to get out of bed. Have you been sneezing?"
"Yeah but I-"
"Kamaraazite flu," Bones surmised, "Had a patient come in with it yesterday. Lucky I caught you in the early stages or you'd be sneezing so hard you'd be regurgitating your damn pineal gland."
Rummaging through his black messenger bag the man pulled out a case filled with a hypo and an a row of colored medicines. Grabbing an amber tube he loaded it into the gun. Atlas stiffened, breath leaving her, and she silently panicked. Suddenly her fight or flight instincts kicked in again as she attempted to shift away. No one noticed though as Jim stared at his friend incredulously. "You just carrying those things everywhere don't you Bones."
"Damn straight kid! This places a hotspot for disease and illness. Cram a bunch of high strung geniuses in one area you're bound to get trouble. Weather it be some alien STD or some idiot releasing an incurable strain while messing around with virus RNA for a lab project. Not to mention you're damn allergies. I've got to be prepared-hey where do you think you're going!"
Attempting to roll away a vice like grip wrenched her back within firing range. Atlas weakly tried to fend off the doctors hands, slapping them away and using her legs to put distance between them meekly as he wrestled the hypo towards her. Jim had to suppress a laugh at the scene. It seemed there was someone who hated the darn things more than him. "Geeze kid," Bones growled in frustration, "you think I was gonna kill you with your reaction. What are you, allergic to hypo's!? Sit still!"
"No!" Atlas shouted, "I don't need your damn hypo. Don't need to go to no hospital either! I have to get to class or I'm gonna fail! I have Matheson for godsakes, and the bastard has it out for me! I'm not about to give him the luxury of-GAAAAAAAHH!"
The instrument jabbed into her neck with a hiss as the grumpy southerner overpowered her. If she weren't so sick he'd be eating pavement instead of grinning so smugly over his accomplishment. "Now you're gonna feel a little light headed but," he paused before getting her again while she was to busy glaring, "this sedative should put you out for a few days as the flu works it way out of your system at medical."
"No," she whined, eyes misting over as she shook her head weakly, "no hospitals. I don't-I don't...don't….like….hos...pi...tal...s."
Voice tapering off Atlas slipped into unconsciousness, wide violets fluttering shut, knowing that when she'd woke up, it would be to her worst nightmare. Hospitals never held good memories for her. For many different reasons.
Having watched that quick panic of fear flitter across her face before she went limp Jim felt the need to do something. He never could resist a damsel in distress. Plus it'd be a win-win for everyone. "Hey Leonard, why don't we just take her back to our room. You could monitor her there and she wouldn't have to go to medical. We should respect a ladies wishes after all."
"Oh no Jim. I'm not bringing her back so you can play florence nightingale. She need's proper medical attention and that's something I can't give her at the dorms. She's gonna get a lot worse before she gets better. Now pick up your handiwork while I take care of her," Leonard stated, pointing over to the prone men strewn across the ground.
The younger man looked around before before returning to his friend with a bemused grin, "I only took down the Orion. The other two aren't my doing."
Both men glanced down tentatively at the beauty bellow them. "Her," Bone's uttered, "she could barely get up let alone fend me off!"
Jim grinned waggling his eyebrows. "Well, she must have some secret moves to take them down as sick as she was. Especially the big one. Love to know the name of a girl who can do that."
"Well, that's easily fixed. We're gonna need it anyway."
Rummaging through her pockets Leonard pulled out her Academy badge and read the name out loud. "Atlas Perseus Carter. Third year. Command track. 22 years old."
Jim sucked in an air of breath recognizing the name. "No shit."
Stardate 2258.44 San Francisco, Starfleet Medical
Beep. Atlas twitched. The smell of antiseptic overpowering her senses. Beep. A disjointed flash of light blinded her, disarming her. Where the hell was she? Why is it so bright! Beep. "Nurse strap her down!" What!?No. No, not again. Please don't do it, don't let them hurt her. Beep. "I'm trying! Someone dose her!" A woman yelled, pinning an arm trying to claw at her face. "No," a deep baritone cut through the chaos of orderlies wrestling her down, "She needs to be awake for this." Awake? No. No, not awake. Please don't make her suffer through it again. Wasn't last time enough?! Beep. Beep. "Doctor do you really thing that's wise? What if she codes due to the stress? Wouldn't it be safer to-"
"If you won't do your job effectively without question I will find someone who will," the resonating voice stated. Never changing in pitch or tone. Yet it was the one sound Atlas feared most. It always came right before pain. "Yes, of course Doctor. I apologize," the woman said demurely, grabbing a nasty looking hypo. Atlas thrashed in her bed, fighting off her attackers blindly. They wouldn't get her again. She was stronger now. Older. They couldn't hurt her. Beep. Beep. Beep. But nothing she did mattered as twenty hands held her in place. As ten faces watched her with cold distance and malevolent sneers. As one man stood at the foot of her bed with an analyzing gaze. Just as she was powerless to the needle plunging into her carotid. It was then, with a painful hiss, that her body exploded in white hot agony.
"Noooooo!"
Atlas erupted with a scream, eyes now fully open, arms wildly flailing about, she bolted up in bed. Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep. With each noise she fended off the visages of her fading memory as the realms between reality and nightmares began to split, pulling apart. Starting to break free from the tight hold of fear did she notice her surroundings. The heart monitor erratically jumping in the corner, the warm soothing colors of the wide spacious room, windows looking out to the bay, but more importantly no restraints."Atlas."
Twisting like lighting towards the sound of her name, she automatically raised her arms in a fighting position. It was instinct really. Of course there wasn't really any need. To her surprise it was Archer. Sitting in a lounge chair he watched her wearily, like if he were dealing with a wild animal and not sure wether or not it was gonna bite. "Where?" she asked breathlessly, chest heaving frantically.
"Private room," he supplied, "I figured you'd react like this and I didn't need to give Marcus an excuse to give you a psyche eval. and deem you unfit. But I expect you to get this demon of yours wrestled with. Have you been going to your appointments with T'pol? I didn't set those up for you so you could squander them yah damn brat. Those meditation technique she's gonna teach will help you keep control, over everything I'm told."
"If you're worried about me having a telekinetic episode I've been taking psychic suppressor. They taste god awful but they keep me in check. And as for the lessons I've been a bit busy."
"Yeah, I saw," Archer grunted, "security camera's caught it all. Nice cross check by the way. But you should have come to me sooner. I told you if you had any trouble to come talk to me. Dammit, I can't help you if you don't say something."
Despite his scolding, Atlas was thankful to have something to occupy her mind from her current settings. Even if it looked like a three star hotel room, it still smelt like a hospital and that enough had her in a jitter of nerves. Thank god for his foresight though.
Sighing she turned a tired eye toward the admiral. "Honestly it wasn't that bad, just a few nasty remarks in passing was all. I hadn't even seen these guys till today. And it's only gonna happen again. Their getting bolder."
"Yeah, well it better not. Because as of yesterday you're now on academic probation," Archer groused. She almost jumped out of bed. That's not right. What happened to starfleets stupid protocols. "What the hell! Don't I even get a hearing!?"
"There was, but you were in a medical coma."
"How is that fair!? I didn't even get to plead my case!"
"I told you this was gonna be hard! The opposition is gonna do everything in their power to get you out of the picture," he told her. Unfortunately things were only going to get harder. With this restriction any small infraction could send her packing. Archer was a hundred percent sure another fight was going to head her way, Marcus would make sure of that, and she'd be powerless to defend herself. If she threw even one punch starfleet was done for. There would be no stopping the militarization. Damn.
"So how come I only got the special treatment," she muttered, trying to keep the conversation going, "Please tell me the others got worse."
"No, you're not the only one. Captain Pike's pet project got it hit with it to. The cadets who attacked you, however, only got a temporary reprimand pending an exit interview after graduation."
Harpies the lot of them. If she thought Starfleet was bad before well her opinion definitely dropped a couple decibels. Atlas gripped the sheets. It was all utter bull crap. "Comforting. At least I won't be the only one going to reform classes though."
"Actually…."
Oh great, she didn't like that tone. What else. How could it have possibly gotten worse. "What?"
"They'll be one on one classes, but…"
"But what!? Just spit it out man."
"You're disciplinary advisor-I went to bat for you kid. I tried to get you someone else, any one else, but I was out maneuvered."
"Who's my advisor?!" She demanded, EKG beeping furiously in the background. "Who is it!"
Stardate 2258.45 San Francisco, Starfleet Academy [Present day]
And so there Atlas stood, staring at that damn door, holding a new PADD in hand, wondering what deity or cosmic force she'd pissed off in a past life to deserve such punishment. Figuring it was better not to know she waved her hand over the doors keypad, signaling her arrival and request for admittance. Better to rip off the band-aid then slowly peel it off.
The door suddenly slid with a hiss and a stoic voice usher her in. "Please enter Cadet Carter."
Squaring her shoulders she stepped through the threshold and into the mouth of hell. A hell which was orderly and clean. No ancient tome out off place on the bookshelves, no PADD not perpendicular to the surface it was placed on, or spec of clutter anywhere. It was like a little neurotic paradise. She already hated it.
As if sensing her thoughts those deep brown eyes clashed with hers in silent reprimand. Atlas had to stop her self from making a tactical retreat back the way she came to avoid argument. Oh yeah, this was not going to go over well. Plastering on a fake smile she addressed the ridged man before her. "Hello, Professor Spock. I hope I'm on time."
"You are currently 2.032 minutes ahead of schedule. If you continue with such action there shall be no consequences, but should you appear late, skip a session, argue with me, or cause any such other disturbance here or outside this room I will not hesitate to have you expelled. Do you understand that which I have said cadet."
"Yes sir."
And so the fun begins.
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