"Past Becomes Prologue" (Backpost)

Posted on Tue May 10th, 2022 @ 6:24pm by Commodore Karyn Dallas

Mission: Episode 2: 18th and Constitution
Location: Commodore Karyn Dallas' Home, San Francisco, CA; Starfleet Medical Headquarters, Starfleet Command, San Francisco, CA
Timeline: Mission Day 1 at 0730

The air inside the auditorium was stifling.

It might've been cooler in the dark space were it not for the presence of 40 to 50 other ambassadors of various sizes and species sitting at tables that were too close for her comfort.

To make matters worse, the tables were arranged in a rectangular fashion so that she had no choice but to look at the person directly across from her in her own delegation or at the person at the podium at the front of the room. She could see the hot lights were only trained on the speaker at the front of the stage, but the heat they emitted enveloped everyone in the room like a sauna. On the outside, Karyn Dallas felt as though she were burning up, but strangely, on the inside, she felt as though she were numb.

For the past two days, she and the rest of her team had alternated between terror and frustration, the words of the ransom note playing over and over in all of their minds. When they weren’t in the stifling auditorium putting up what they hoped was a convincing façade, they were searching for evidence to save Captain Price. With limited time and resources, they’d failed thus far, and everyone knew time was running out. The (now waning) hope was that one of the other ambassadors would slip up somehow and reveal their complicity in the kidnapping of the captain before it was too late.

If that wasn't going to happen, the next best (albeit temporary thing) was that they didn't have to make a decision right now and could almost convince themselves that maybe the Yridian ambassador hadn't actually slipped her a ransom note after all… that maybe it never actually happened and when her turn came to speak on behalf of the Federation's position concerning the trade route, she could actually express her support as planned. Maybe the worst thing that was going to happen was that they would lose a few pounds of water weight sweating in their dress uniforms. She knew better, of course, but hope was eternal.

And then of course, it happened. On the third day and into the sixth hour since their nightmare began, her name was called and she was directed to come to the podium.

Karyn forced herself to meet the eyes of her fellow counselors. They were counting on her to act, to be their leader. Though they all supported her without question, they understood that this decision was hers and hers alone. Good or bad, she would be held accountable for the consequences, and Dallas was determined not to show any fear. It would be a disservice to her many years crafting her impassive counselor’s mask if she showed anything less.

She wasn't ready and she had no idea what she was going to say, but she knew time was up. As she took one last sip of the remaining water in her cup, just after taking a moment to swirl the remaining liquid over the melting ice cubes, she kept her eyes forward and no longer spared her team a second glance. Her game face was on now, and for once, she found herself grateful she was using her grav chair. It would take some time to travel up the ramp from backstage that would lead her to the white-hot spotlight.

As she maneuvered her chair slowly up the ramp and felt all eyes upon her, she forced herself to slow her breathing. Now that she was at the top of the ramp and center stage, she felt an incredible jolt of adrenaline even stronger than the one she had experienced when she had been first given the note. Refusing to close her eyes, she continued to keep her breathing steady, not even noticing when someone lowered the microphone to better accommodate her height or lack thereof.

She began to speak, but her own brain could only register sound, not substance. She was truly on autopilot, her heart in control. It was only after she noticed people angrily jumping from their seats and shouting in her direction while others uttered gasps of surprise that she realized what she had done: she had denounced the trade route as the ransom note had demanded, and in doing so, she had violated her orders and her oath. That was what she knew she had done, but the only thing Karyn Dallas cared about in that moment was whether she had actually saved her Captain.

If she had continued speaking, it would be hard to say. No one and nothing could be heard over the din, and though Karyn searched the audience frantically for her people or any sign that she had done the right thing, she just kept getting more and more dizzy until she was startled by the crack of a gunshot...

... and promptly found herself in an unfamiliar bed, the buzz of the chronometer alerting her it was time to get up. Blinking away the bright light and panting heavily, at first Karyn didn't know what was going on or where she was, and her hand traveled instinctively down to her abdomen, as if she were checking for bullet holes, which alone did not make any sense.

"You're getting some variety, I see," the lilting British tone of her personal assistant, Julia Monsoon answered, gesturing to her charge’s abdomen.

Everyone knew Captain Robert Edward Lee Price had been shot in the back by Klingon weaponry, not in the stomach by an old-fashioned projectile. Karyn knew this particularly, as for at least three weeks after the incident, that was all she dreamt.

Despite the adrenaline still coursing through her and the panic and sadness she felt, bangs still plastered to her in sweat along with her pajamas, Karyn managed a wry smile. "Yeah, well, I've got to keep it interesting for you, don't I?"

She was met with nothing more than a small chuckle before the two women got on with their day. Julia eased her out of bed and helped her into her grav chair, washing her face and dressing her in her uniform, pinning her hair in the standard up do.

Monsoon had been with Karyn her entire Starfleet career, to include the Academy. The bond they shared was as unbreakable as it was unsurprising and perhaps ordinary. Julia knew Karyn had violated her orders in the hopes of saving her Captain's life, and although he had been shot anyway and suffered paralysis that put him in his own grav-chair, the Brit knew Karyn had done what she believed to be right. On good days, Dallas allowed herself to be reminded of this, and on bad days, sometimes the entirety of the good Monsoon could do was wash her friend's face in companionable silence.

Julia decided she would give her friend and charge time to brood through breakfast. That was all, she'd decided, the future deputy chief of Starfleet Medical, Chief of the Starfleet Counseling Division, could be spared.

Such was their bond that Julia understood how conflicted Karyn felt without Karyn uttering many words. To be given such an honor after what she had been through would be perplexing, to be charitable. Was it a good thing to be given a promotion after almost getting your previous superior killed? Or was it just a socially acceptable way to keep her out of the way so she couldn't get anyone else killed?

Monsoon knew better than to engage her charge in such arguments, particularly on her first day in the new job. Besides, they had many such discussions before, and Julia knew better than to continue to argue with someone who was determined to dig themselves into a deeper and deeper hole.

No, Karyn was going to have to heal from this and find her way on her own.

So, when it was about the time for them both to leave the comfort of the apartment they had been graciously assigned, Julia said the one thing she knew would make Karyn smile. "Buck up, Buttercup. It's time to get to work."

***

By the time she made it into the Starfleet Medical building, Karyn had shoved her old demons to the back of her mind. Lord knew, there were plenty of current demons to confront in the wake of the bombing not so long ago.

If there was one thing Karyn could be counted on, it was to focus on helping people, even when it wasn't clear what choice would allow her to do the most good.

By the time she approached the reception desk, her game face was back on. "Karyn Dallas to see the Director, please."