Suspicions

The lights in the Starfleet Command Center were dim, casting long shadows across the sleek consoles and shimmering viewscreens. Jamie sat alone in a quiet corner, her fingers hovering over the computer terminal. The hum of the central power core was a low, steady pulse beneath the polished floor, like a heartbeat for the entire facility. For most officers, this was the nerve center of the galaxy, a place where decisions were made that would shape the future of the Federation. But tonight, for her, it was the site of something far more personal.

She had been restless since Pike's death. And now one of the only people who knew of his suspicions. All she had to go on was a name. Grant Whittamer. She had been meaning to do this ever since Pike mentioned his name, and had mentioned his concerns. Pike had assured her he had a hand on things and an eye on him but now ... no Admiral keeping an eye out and no one to be suspicious of them.

Jamie tapped a few commands into the terminal, bringing the Starfleet database to life. The screen flared with a cool blue glow, reflecting off her features. She hesitated for a moment before typing in the name that had been haunting her for the past several hours.

Garrett, Matthew.

A part of her didn't want to see what was about to appear on the screen. She still remembered the shockwaves that had rippled through the fleet when Garrett's trial had concluded, leading to his imprisonment.

The system processed her request, and in a few seconds, Garrett's file appeared on the screen. She leaned forward, her eyes narrowing as she scanned the information.

Name: Matthew Garrett
Rank: Commander (Decommissioned)
Status: Deceased
Cause of Death: Cardiac arrest—classified under natural causes.

Deceased. Garrett was dead. The idea of Garrett wasting away in a cell, only to die of something as mundane as a heart attack, seemed almost anticlimactic. It was a far cry from the person she had known.

But something didn't sit right. Jamie knew that Garrett had been in perfect health the last time she'd seen him. Natural causes, especially in someone as fit as Garrett, seemed… unlikely. She delved deeper into the file, searching for anything out of the ordinary. But the details were sparse, just enough to confirm the facts without providing any real insight. The prison medical logs showed a few visits for minor ailments—nothing that would suggest an impending heart attack.

She clenched her jaw, frustration mounting. Was it possible that Garrett's death wasn't as natural as the file suggested? She couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to this. But without any solid evidence, it was just a hunch—one that would be impossible to prove, especially now that Garrett was gone.

She leaned back, running a hand through her hair. If there was a connection between Garrett and Whittamer, it wasn't going to be found here. The only thing left was to check on Whittamer himself and see if anything in his file could shed some light on this puzzle.

She returned to the main search screen and entered Grant Whittamer's name. The system took a moment longer this time, as it compiled the information from various Starfleet records. Jamie tapped her fingers impatiently on the desk, her mind racing ahead of the system. Finally, the file appeared, and her eyes began their methodical scan.

Name: Grant Whittamer
Rank: Lieutenant
Status: Active
Service Record: Immaculate

Jamie's brow furrowed. Everything Pike had said was true. Whittamer's record was spotless, a model Starfleet officer in every respect. He had graduated near the top of his class at the Academy, completed his assignments with distinction, and had glowing recommendations from every superior officer he'd served under. There wasn't a single blemish, not even the hint of a reprimand or an issue with his conduct. The man was practically a poster child for Starfleet recruitment.

"It's perfect, almost too perfect," she muttered to herself. There wasn't a single blemish on Whittamer's record, not even a hint of controversy or conflict. The only record that she knew looked like this was Spock's. But Spock had a reason for his file to be like this.

Jamie delved into the finer details, hoping to find something—anything—that might hint at a connection to Garrett. She read through Whittamer's assignments, his performance evaluations, and his extracurricular activities. Nothing stood out as unusual or suspicious.

If Whittamer and Garrett were connected in some way, it wasn't obvious from the official records. In fact, there was nothing in Whittamer's file that even suggested he knew Garrett. Their careers hadn't overlapped, they hadn't served on the same ships or been assigned to the same missions. There were no mutual acquaintances listed, and no shared activities or interests. On paper, they were strangers.

Jamie sat back in her chair, staring at the screen in frustration. It was as if the system was mocking her, presenting him with two entirely separate lives, with no indication of how or why she had come to believe they were linked. And yet, the feeling persisted, a nagging suspicion that she was missing something vital.

"But what? The answer is here somewhere."

She leaned forward again, staring at Whittamer's personnel photo. The man's face was calm, and composed, a hint of a smile at the corner of his lips. There was no physical resemblance between the two men either. Jamie found herself wondering what was behind those eyes. Was this really just a simple case of a good officer doing his job, or was there something more hidden beneath that unassuming exterior?

"I don't trust you. You give me the same vibes he did."

She focused back on the terminal. The last section of Whittamer's file was a psych evaluation. her eyes narrowed as he opened it. Psychological evaluations were often where cracks in a seemingly perfect record could be found. A few sentences buried in jargon could reveal more about an officer's state of mind than pages of commendations.

The evaluation was thorough, and conducted by one of Starfleet's top psychologists. The report spoke highly of Whittamer's mental resilience, his ability to handle stress, and his strong sense of duty. But there was a line near the end of the report that caught her attention.

"Subject exhibits a heightened sense of idealism, with a rigid adherence to Starfleet principles. This, while commendable, could lead to potential conflicts if the subject were to encounter situations where those principles are challenged by the complexities of real-world scenarios."

Jamie sat back, considering the implications. It was a subtle note, but it spoke volumes. It indicated that he might struggle when faced with moral ambiguity. It was a dangerous trait, one that could lead to the same kind of disillusionment that had destroyed Garrett.

"And there's the similarity you spoke of. No wonder you were worried Chris."

Whittamer might be everything Starfleet wanted him to be, but that didn't mean he was infallible. In fact, it might mean the opposite. If Whittamer ever faced a situation that tested his beliefs, he might find himself standing at the same crossroads Garrett had, with no way to turn back.

She returned to Garrett's file, flipping back and forth between the two men's records. There had to be something he was missing, something the official documents weren't showing her.

She let out a sigh of frustration, leaning back in her chair once more. Maybe there was no connection. Maybe she was chasing ghosts, seeing links where there were none. But her instincts told her otherwise and had told Pike otherwise, and they'd rarely led her astray before. Jamie tapped the console, closing the file. She had seen enough for tonight.