What a Mess

Posted on Tue Jan 20th, 2026 @ 12:34am by Chief Petty Officer Aaron Geiger

893 words; about a 4 minute read

Mission: Not All Orders Are Easy
Location: Deck 8
Timeline: Current

ON

Aaron, walking and reading his PaDD, made his way through the corridors to the Enlisted Mess. Weaving in and out of other Enlisted Crewmen he grunted absent responses to various iterations of "Good Evening Chief" and "Hoo-yah Chief!"

Deck 8, or Enlisted Country, had a different vibe. It was louder, filled with the voices of crewmen who lived, ate, worked, and trained together. Like the generations of enlisted men and women who came before them, the bonds of shared spaces and trials defined their adventure. Not that Officers didn't have camaraderie, it was just... different and although he now had more interactions with the commissioned members of the crew than ever before he still struggled with describing the nuance of that difference.

Finishing his report for the enlisted side of the duty roster, Aaron thumbed his digital signature to send to LT O'Connor for his approval and stepped through the doors to the Mess.

Immediately blasted by an absolute cacophony of noise, the Chief looked up to see a press of bodies, craning to watch a fist fight. No one was manning the chow line, nor bussing their own tables. In fact it looked as if the crewmen had pushed every table to the bulkhead in order to make space for the fight. As he looked himself, he saw two yellow tunics with their overcoats removed as a punch landed producing a wet thump as Crewman Rodriguez struggled to keep on his feet after one of his teeth freed itself from his gums and launched across the circle of people. The resulting mix of cheers and jeers caused Aaron to from a deep scowl.

"Great. Both numb nuts belong to me." Aaron grumbled to himself and proceeded to tap commands into his tricorder, editing his comm badge to broadcast locally and increase his speaking volume just to the Mess.

"AT EASE" Aaron bellowed, silencing and steadying the room in an instant. All the enlisted snapped to him, a wave of dread passing over each one in succession.

"I come down here to grab some chow and what do I find? Two dingleberries deciding to solve whatever problem they have like animals, and a couple dozen others not only allowing it to happen but egging it on?" Aaron continued, striding into the center of the stunned circle. "All of your department Chiefs will be notified, and you'd better hope for damned sure that we decide to keep this under Enlisted purview. None of you has shown an inkling of the discipline that is expected out of this crew. All of you idiots aside from Rodriguez and Johnson out. Now."

A mad dash for the door combined with several "Aye Chief." Not even a minute later, the Enlisted mess just contained the three of them.

Aaron walked silently to one of the replicators on the wall. "El Dorado 12, neat." After a brief hum he picked up the glass and dragged a chair over to the two. Aaron pointed to two chairs with a curt gesture, resulting in the two immediately springing for them and sitting down.

The Chief sipped the synthesized aged rum. He could always tell the difference with the more specific requests. "Two of my own Engineering Crewmen."

"But Chief he..." Stammered Johnson before Aaron cut him off.

"Did I ask you a question Crewman?"

"No Chief."

"Rodriguez, keep your hands up to protect your face next time. You drop your hands you'll get popped just like that every time." The Chief took another sip. "Johnson, you need to use your feet to drive more power. You should have knocked him out cold."

The two Crewmen smirked at each other. "Aye Chief."

"Oh, you're not getting off that easy. You idiots decided to make whatever this is, and I do not give a twisted nacelle what it is, public. If you've got a problem with each other, solve it like adults. But if you have to fight for crying out loud take it to the holodeck and figure out how to hit each other where there won't be visible bruising." Aaron took another sip of the rum.

"Now. We have a choice my young imbeciles. Do you want pain, or do you want paperwork? You choose pain, and your lives will be living hell for the time being but it stays in house. Paperwork, with what you just did I'll be recommending Article 15 Non-Judicial Punishment to LT O'Connor. Potential loss of rank, restriction, extra punitive duties to be determined by the OIC."

The two crewmen looked at each other. "Pain Chief" They said almost in unison.

"Excellent choice gentlemen." Aaron said "Now, you have 15 minutes to return this place to factory new. Then you will fix your unsat uniforms, and report to sickbay to get yourselves looked at. You will tell them that you both dropped a grav pallet or fell, or something. Just make sure it's consistent. They'll know you're lying but I'll talk to the LT." He gestured with his hand while he downed the rest of his glass. "After which, you will return to me and the pain will begin... Well what are you waiting for? Your time started already."

As they dashed around to reset the Mess, Aaron gathered his PaDD and headed for the exit. "What the mind does not comprehend gentlemen, the body must pay for..."

OFF

 

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