Tacking the Admiral

Posted on Thu Feb 5th, 2026 @ 10:26am by Lieutenant JG Kate Kono & Ensign Aidan "A.J." Reid
Edited on on Fri Feb 6th, 2026 @ 5:56am

1,720 words; about a 9 minute read

Mission: Not All Orders Are Easy
Location: SCIF & Off Ship
Timeline: Present

USS Revenant - NCC 2091

Lieutenant Commander Aerial Tapping's footsteps echoed across the polished deck as she approached the bridge. Captain Emily Braddock stood silhouetted against the viewscreen's glow, the Washington's signature appearing as a faint blip among the stars. Braddock's fingers drummed against the captain's chair as Tapping slid into her seat, the tension between them thick as vacuum.

"Whitfield's scrubbed the mission," Braddock said, her voice cutting through the ambient hum of the ship. "Kono's people are digging—about you." Her steel-gray eyes narrowed. "Your asset slipped the leash, and now we're compromised. The entire operation hangs by a thread."

Tapping adjusted her collar, buying seconds to compose her response. "Our operative aboard the Washington will signal when extraction becomes viable. Intelligence suggests Kono has no interest in recruitment. She's tracking toward special ops, not our division. With this many eyes on her, we'd be fools to move now."

Braddock's laugh was bitter as she studied the sensor array, the Washington's position marked in hostile red. "The woman slaughters my brother, vaporizes the Aphellion with every soul aboard, and walks away clean because of 'obsidian classification.'" Her voice twisted into a mocking singsong. "And now Whitfield and the Section want her... skills." She spun, capturing Tapping's gaze with predatory intensity. "...not if I have anything to say about it."

Tapping's voice hardened. "Admiral Keller's orders still stand. My... miscalculation was merely a temporary complication."

The captain tucked a rebellious strand of chestnut hair behind her ear, the regulation bun failing her as thoroughly as her subordinate had. "Enlighten me," she said, each syllable dripping with venom, "about the precise nature of those orders. Because my recollection suggests they identified you as the security breach—not my ship or crew."

"What would you have me do?" Tapping's pale knuckles whitened against the executive officers chair as she leaned forward, her face flushing crimson to match her fiery hair. "I executed the mission parameters flawlessly. That spineless Intelligence Operative we coerced—he's the one who triggered the emergency transport before I secured the target. His incompetence, Captain. Not mine."

Braddock's face contorted as she leaned in, voice dropping to a venomous whisper. "Your 'flawless execution' left intelligence officers crawling all over us the moment we materialized on Risa." Her knuckles whitened around the edge of the console. "And I don't give a quantum-damned photon what Whitfield or Keller want her for. She will never wear a Section 31 badge." The final words scraped through clenched teeth until she choked on what came next. "She killed my brot—" The word fractured as Braddock's breath caught, her eyes suddenly glassy with barely contained fury.

Tapping leaned forward across the captain's status console as she sat in the command chair, lowering her voice to just above a whisper. Her fingers splayed against the soft surface of her arm rest as she chose her words carefully.

"Section 31 isn't in her future plans. My Washington contact was explicit about that," she said, her tone deliberately measured to calm the captain's visible anxiety. "We have breathing room. And with Keller assigning her to that off-ship mission..." She paused, studying her commanding officer's face. "I can temporarily transfer to Starfleet Command. Feed you information while staying beneath notice. My classified posting records will shield any connection to you until this operation concludes, sir."

Braddock's eyes narrowed to slits. "Upon arrival at Starfleet Command, establish covert surveillance on Kono using the tools at your disposal. Document every meeting, every communiqué." Her voice dropped to a near-whisper. "The Federation cannot afford another idealist corrupting our defense apparatus. If Kono continues gaining influence among the admiralty, we may need to implement... contingency protocols." She struck the captain's chair armrest with her fist, the sound echoing across the bridge. "Section 31 exists precisely to excise these cancers before they metastasize throughout the command structure." Tapping studied the commander's face—the rigid jaw, the practiced conviction—wondering if she truly believed in this crusade or if she was simply justifying the inevitable purge to herself.

USS Washington - Present Time

Kate Kono smoothed her Starfleet Intelligence uniform, the crisp fabric clinging to her slender frame as she approached AJ, whose broad shoulders cast a shadow across the corridor's gleaming floor. They paused before a door marked "Secure Contained Information Facility" in stark lettering, then entered together. Admiral Whitfield's weathered face filled the viewscreen, her silver hair pulled into a severe bun, lips pressed into a thin line of disapproval despite their early arrival.

"What's happening here?" Kate glanced between AJ's stoic expression and the Admiral's cold stare. The door sealed with three electronic buzzes, and the security indicator transitioned from threatening red to authorized blue.

The Admiral's voice cut through the silence. "Lieutenant Junior Grade Kono. Your department has been operating without proper oversight. Consider yourself fortunate that future assignments are all you're losing."

"Excuse me?" Kate's eyes narrowed.

AJ's warm hand settled on Kate's shoulder, his touch gentle but firm. "We don't have de luxury for dis conversation about leadership philosophy, Admiral," he said, his words carrying just a hint of his Jamaican heritage. "Dat's a clever way to burn through our time, but we're running short as it is. If you please..."

Kate blinked at AJ's boldness, watching as he stood tall before the Admiral, his military-precise haircut and confident posture betraying no hint of intimidation in the face of such authority.

The Admiral's face on the secure transmission flickered slightly, the encryption protocols causing a millisecond delay that made her scowl seem even more severe against the sterile backdrop of the SCIF's viewscreen. "You tasked Ensign Reid with tracking down the owner of a... garment left on the beach in front of the resort where you and Ben were staying during your Risan vacation," she stated, her voice crackling through the subspace channel. Kate's stomach tightened as she raised her hand, her fingertips trembling almost imperceptibly.

"Admiral Whitfield," she interjected, her mouth suddenly dry, "for clarification—he's now Assistant Chief of Intelligence. AJ briefed me earlier. Given the circumstances, wouldn't his professional designation be more appropriate than... personal associations?"

The Admiral's nostrils flared, the high-definition feed capturing every twitch of displeasure despite the sixteen light-years between them. "Lieutenant," she growled, each syllable precisely measured, "I've had quite enough of this insubordination. I'm extending an olive branch while you're practically igniting it. Now, if you would permit me to continue."

Kate pressed her lips into a thin line, saying nothing. AJ's solid presence beside her was a comfort as the Admiral fidgeted with her collar, the woman's weathered fingers betraying her reluctance to continue.

"Lieutenant," the Admiral finally said, her voice dropping to a near whisper, "we need you for a classified operation after your current assignment concludes. This comes with full authorization from Command—everything by the book." She leaned forward, the overhead lights catching the silver in her hair. "But there's a complication. That shadow division you encountered last year tried to claim you first. We've learned little else, except that certain operatives within their ranks hold you personally responsible for the loss of an entire covert team."

AJ's sharp intake of breath cut through the silence. Kate felt his eyes boring into her profile, questions radiating from him like heat. She kept her gaze locked on the Admiral, refusing to acknowledge the memories that clawed at the edges of her consciousness—memories of screams she couldn't silence, even in her dreams.

"Me nah see how dem two ting connect," AJ said, throwing his hands up before scratching his high-and-tight head. His Jamaican lilt grew stronger with his frustration. "Dem man dem want kill de girl or dem want kiss her? Which one?"

"Kate has a way of making people reveal themselves," the Admiral said, her steely gaze fixed on Kate standing rigidly beside AJ. "They've planted someone on your vessel to monitor reactions during recruitment attempts. However, they're prohibited from approaching anyone scheduled for upcoming missions."

"I wasn't informed of any upcoming missions," Kate replied, her voice steady despite her racing pulse.

The Admiral's mouth tightened. "That was intentional. Information is compartmentalized for security reasons. You weren't cleared until now." She leaned forward, her voice dropping. "And this intelligence doesn't leave this secure facility. Are we clear?" She held their gaze until both Kate and AJ nodded their acknowledgment.

"Do you recall Captain Braddock of the Aphelion?"

Kate's blood ran cold. The memory crashed through her mind—the shuttlecraft's engines screaming as she reversed out of the bay, her knuckles white on the controls. Through the viewscreen, she'd watched in horror as the writhing darkness peeled itself from the walls, tendrils of impossible shadow congealing into grasping limbs that wrapped around Braddock's thrashing body. His silent scream, visible through the airlock window, as the living darkness dragged him into the ship's bowels, leaving nothing but smears of crimson on the corridor floor.

Admiral Whitfield's stern face filled the viewscreen, her silver-streaked hair pulled back in a regulation bun. "The USS Revenant dispatched an operative to recruit you during your shore leave. Lieutenant Junior Grade Aeriel Tapping met with someone from the Washington—identity still classified—to gauge your interest." Her jaw tightened. "When Command discovered they were pursuing an officer already assigned to an upcoming mission, recall orders were issued. They've gone silent. You're explicitly off-limits to that division, but Revenant's captain is disregarding protocols. I've ordered them to cease operations." She leaned closer to the camera. "Captain Braddock's sister commands the Revenant. We have reason to believe she holds you responsible for her brother's death."

Kate's shoulders slumped. "Perfect. What better way to torment me than serving under someone with a vendetta."

"For an intelligence officer, I shouldn't need to connect these dots for you," the Admiral snapped.

"De best part," AJ cut in, his rich voice carrying a melodic Jamaican lilt, "you lecturin' Kate 'bout losin' control of her officers when you can't even keep a whole starship in line."

Kate pressed her lips together, fighting a laugh that threatened to escape as Admiral Whitfield's face flushed crimson. AJ had a point.

"Watch your back, Lieutenant," Whitfield growled. "Someone's got you in their sights. We'll reconvene after your mission." She glared at AJ before jabbing the disconnect button, the screen going dark with a soft electronic hum.

 

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