Post 2 - The Rumor Mill
Posted on Wed Dec 9th, 2020 @ 9:20pm by Captain Jocelyn Blake & Lieutenant Jordan Hoover
Edited on on Wed Dec 9th, 2020 @ 9:29pm
Mission:
Episode 1: Acta Non Verba
Location: Horseshoe Cafe, San Francisco, CA, Earth
Timeline: The morning before the new CinC is announced.
[Horseshoe Cafe]
[San Francisco, CA]
[Day 10 - 0700 Hours]
The small café overlooking Horseshoe Bay and the Starfleet Headquarters served freshly ground and hand brewed coffee. None of that synthesized stuff with limits placed upon the caffeine content and questionable flavor profiles. You couldn’t burn your tongue on a synthesized cup of coffee and so some of the experience of sipping a freshly brewed cup was lost. This café’s particular specialty was catering to those who might not mind a bit of a burnt tongue in exchange for some extra caffeine and some real flavor.
Although it had been there for a long time it was easily overlooked. The street facing entrance was small and worn compared to the buildings around it, a vestige from years past that had been owned by many over the years and somehow not torn down as the hills surrounding the area were built up to support the sprawling infrastructure that was the United Federation of Planets and the Federation’s Starfleet. Unless you were the type to seek out such a place the inconvenience of waiting for a freshly brewed cup would outweigh the experience for many.
Jocelyn Blake came to this spot as much for the coffee as the view. The back of the café had been renovated a divergence from the drab exterior. The entire back wall, from floor to ceiling, was made up of one unbroken window letting a person look out over the whole bay as though they were standing on a precipice. She had always found it breathtaking and, when hoping to avoid a gaggle of reporters, came to this spot to think, and to work, and sometimes just to quietly sip a cup of coffee.
Today she was situated at a small wooden table, another holdover from bygone days, next to the broad window. A PADD sat in front of her; numerous press outlets drawn up in tabbed files onto the screen ready for review. For the last 5 years she had been the leading Public Relations and Media liaison for Starfleet’s R&D Department. It was a fast paced job and one she loved, but also one she didn’t mind the periodic escape from. Today’s scrolling news sat largely untouched, her gaze instead drawn out over the expanse, two hands wrapped around a warm mug.
A buzz from her PADD wrested her out of her reflection alerting her to an incoming message. She looked down at the device and a smile quirked across her features at the name of the caller. Quickly she adjusted a nearly invisible earpiece and tapped the PADD to accept the communication.
“Jordan Hoover.” She said, her smile leaking out into her voice. “To what do I owe the honor?”
From her PADD Jordan’s smiling face beamed back at her. “Where are you at?” he asked, not even bothering with a hello.
“Horseshoe Cafe.” She replied. “Why…”
“Excellent.” Jordan cut her off. “Order me a large black coffee. I’ll be there in 5.”
It was only belatedly that it registered that Jordan’s call was not coming from his office, but that he was clearly out walking.
“Jordan, wait…”
But he had already ended the message.
Jocelyn sighed, picking up her mug of liquid warmth and draining the dregs before standing and moving back to the counter to order.
She set her mug down in front of the barista, a young Bajoran man, plastering a dazzling smile across her features.
“Could I get a French press of your house medium roast and two mugs?” she inquired.
The man nodded, unable to keep from smiling back at her. She had a way of having that effect on people and it had served her well amidst the press. But it never hurt to use a bit of that winning charm to ensure you got the best possible coffee as well.
While the barista put together her order she returned to her table, picking up the PADD and thumbing through reports. One in particular caught her eye.
Announcement of the new Commander in Chief of Starfleet expected today.
That was a surprise. The Federation had been reviewing candidates for what felt like weeks now with no clear end in sight. She knew of their short list, but it wasn’t nearly as short as she would have expected if they were making a final decision.
Curious she tapped open the article, waving to the table as the barista came over with a small tray bearing the French press, two mugs, a small jar of cream, and some sugar.
“Thank you.” She said, pausing to pin the man with her smile again.
He nodded and mumbled a quick “You’re welcome,” before retreating back to his post.
She had barely gotten into the first paragraph when the door opened, a small ding from a bell over the door alerting the occupants of a new arrival.
Jordan swept across the café, bending over to kiss her on both cheeks in the European style, before settling into the chair across from her.
“Cream and sugar?” he asked, wrinkling his nose.
“You drink your coffee your way and I’ll drink mine how I please.” She replied, pouring them each a cup and then doctoring hers until the dark brown liquid more closely resembled a light khaki.
Jordan had picked up his own cup, blowing across the top of the warm liquid before taking a large draught.
“Ok.” She said, as he pulled his cup away from his lips. “Out with it. What on earth warranted tracking me down in person on such short notice.”
He grinned at her, setting his cup back on the table. “The CinC.” He said, conspiratorially. “They’re announcing this evening. Rumor has it they’ve settled on FAdm Sturnack.”
“Sturnack.” She exhaled. Of course. The Vulcan was well known in many circles, an excellent diplomat, and a calm and steady presence amongst the admiralty. Not to mention that he had been groomed for the position by the former CinC, FAdm McGarry, who has passed a few weeks prior. It made sense.
She pinned Jordan down with a pointed look. “And how, pray tell, have you come across said rumor?”
He grinned impishly at her. “A journalist never reveals his sources.”
“Of course.” She said, faux graciously. “And what does this have to do with me, exactly?”
Jordan’s face lit up like a kid who had a secret he couldn’t bear not telling. “Well… said rumor mill also has it that you are on the short list for Press Secretary.”
That got her. She sat back in her chair letting out a long breath, all pretense of cool collectedness gone.
Press Secretary. Holy smokes.
It was a role she aspired to, of course, but certainly wasn’t one she would have expected to be appointed to any time soon. She let herself imagine it for a moment. Fielding inquiries from the various press throughout the Federation. Standing at the podium with the Federation seal and delivering the most salient news of the day—happenings that would have a ripple effect on worlds throughout known space.
“Earth to Jocelyn.” Jordan said, waving a hand in front of her face. “Come back Jocelyn.”
She frowned, blinking. “Your sources are usually good, but this one…” She trailed off.
“Can’t be true?” he asked. “Why not?”
She shook her head. “You know why not, Jordan.” She said, irritation sparking in her voice.
“Because you don’t already have a few years of PR at R&D under your belt?” he asked incredulously. “Or because you don’t happen to hold press credentials for 5 major publications on 5 different worlds including Qo’noS?”
She cocked her head and pursed her lips giving her friend a look that would make men who knew her less well stop in their tracks.
“Or is it because you’re younger than 4, have never held a position on a starship and still happen to hold the rank of Lieutenant Commander?”
“Ok, ok.” She said, relenting, but still maintaining a look of intense credulity. “I have the right credentials. Yes. But why would they replace Admiral Truman? Just because they’re naming a new CinC doesn’t mean they need a new Press Secretary.”
A look of triumph flashed across Jordan’s features and he leaned in, his hands wrapping around his cup and an impish grin lighting up his eyes. “Ah. So you haven’t heard then.”
“Heard what?” she asked, curiosity despite her own better judgment coloring her voice.
“Truman announced his retirement. There’s an opening at SFC.”
=/\= A mission post by =/\=
Lieutenant Commander Jocelyn Blake
Public Relations
Starfleet Command - Research and Development
Lieutenant Jordan Hoover
Journalist
Alpha Centauri News Network
