"What Atton Did"

Atton sat behind Julia's desk in the ready room of the USS Aquarius, reading over the reports from the Corps damage report. McCabe estimated his final report would be completed in a day or two, though the preliminary reports appeared hopeful. Perhaps it was a fool's hope however. While the superstructure appeared intact, it was another question entirely if Starfleet would pour the resources into bringing the ship back from the dead. One thing leads to another, and he found himself thinking about McCabe. He hadn't spoken to the engineer since their tiff in McCabe's office besides collecting his reports. It provoked an odd feeling that he couldn't quite describe. On one hand, Hugo had done the very thing Atton would have done in his position. But, he had obligations and duties outside this ship that McCabe and his band of pirates almost derailed. So he swallowed his pride and compromised his principles once again. Three and a half centuries ago he could justify it as necessary for the good of the Federation, to bring it into being. Now that he was here, now, he had to wonder when it changed to simply, "I've already gone this far". He sat in silence for several minutes before, as if some Devil was actively parsing his thoughts, a dark shadow entered the edge of his telepathic perception. It stank of a soul tainted by deceit, betrayal and sadism and it was clearly headed his way. With a sigh he put down the padd he was reading and stood from the desk making his way to the viewing window that positioned his back to the door, awaiting the inevitable chime.

Fiona straightened, steeling herself before pressing the chime. She would have been surprised if he did not already know she was inbound, despite all of her best telepathic blocking techniques firmly in place. It was difficult to contain all of her emotions, however, when rage was simmering so close to overflow. True -- the Betazoid's mission had been a success in the strictest sense of the word, but his lack of adherence to the plan carefully set out for him was troubling. He wouldn't care, of course. He wasn't the one who had to answer to their superiors when he went off the rails, and he wasn't the one whose capabilities as a handler were questioned when things went poorly. That was her particular joy to experience.

Cooling herself, she pressed the chime, and waited.

"Come," Atton replied after a hard, five second count. "Fiona. Welcome to the Aquarius, apologies for the unkempt state she's in." He didn't turn to face Fiona when she entered and continued to look out the window. Everything he did to frustrate, enrage and disrespect her served two purposes. It was just generally satisfying, but on a more practical point it made her easier to read and distracted her focus. Every slight was another crack in her walls.

Fiona bristled, looking at the generally tousled state of the captain's office, and returned her attention to Jetrel. "Considering that the ship's state ought to be 'debris,' I hardly mind." She circled around the desk, taking the seat he'd vacated, and gestured to the chair opposite. "Explanations are in order. And they had better be good. I have every right to apply whatever disciplinary methods I want after that debacle," she added, her tones harsher than her intent.

He chuckled softly still staring out into the starfield. He could see her sitting in Julia's chair just at the edge of his left periphery. Atton furrowed his brow, considering his words before returning to a neutral expression. "The crew...over performed," he finally turned to face her, with a sly grin on his face. "I did everything you wanted, but they persevered. You really should look to whoever did the projections for this operation. Shoddy work."

The unpleasant expression darkened further. "I did those projections. And please -- they were either unassailably lucky, or you didn't do your job well enough to ensure the destruction of the ship." She sat back in the chair, tilting it back to gaze up at him. "The only reason you haven't been hauled in to whatever prison colony Section 31 has co-opted is that Duras still came out looking heroic. But for all of the work that we did setting this up, aligning the Klingon factions against one another, Duras could have emerged much more notably if we had had another Narendra III, rather than a tow operation accompanied by some Klingon chest-puffing." She toyed with one of the padds on the desk, scooting it and its neighbor into a neater position absentmindedly. "But no; the 'shoddy work' came from you."

Atton smirked, turning to pace around the side of the desk opposite of Fiona. "I suppose there really isn't anyway to project the chiefs of science of engineering would hijack a Bird of Prey and manage to disable Vort's ship. So I'll give you that. Still...Governor Bor'tesh is dead, his opposition to Duras silenced and you and I both know he'll take all the glory back in the Empire. His position in the high council will be elevated and he'll be well positioned to succeed Kem'pec, whenever he goes. Beyond that, the fleet is abuzz with the tales of the valiant stand of the Aquarius. So I suspect your superiors will let this slide. Starfleet doesn't punish success."

A small smile passed her expression. "I suppose it doesn't at that. And that," she added, handing over a small data-rod, "is why Starfleet is keeping the lot of you together. And, for better or worse, why you will be installed in your position as executive officer permanently. Your temporary posting might not be prestigious, but I must assume that being the second-in-command of one of the flagships must be quite the honor, once the Aquarius has been repaired. Congratulations, by the way," Fiona added, grinning a devil's smile.

"Thank you. This must be very painful for you," Atton paused to pluck the data-rod out of her fingers. "You were so sure about this op. Airtight, flawless. Yet here we are, life's strange like that wouldn't you say? I can only imagine the strings Section 31 will have to pull to get this ship repaired. I wonder if it compromises them in other areas? And my assignment as XO will be made permanent? Well there's more strings to pull because Julia has no intention of doing that herself. Gods only know what admiral you'll get to call her. We're going to need to address that you know."

Fiona's smile fell into careful neutrality. "Yes, it will," she replied, vague as to what would be painful. "The components are being re-routed from a refit that had been planned. Your ship's lucky day, with a bit of help from us. And we already have someone in mind who will be able to deliver the bad news. I didn't really expect you'd be welcomed back so warmly, after all."

"Julia doesn't trust intelligence, with good reason. I suppose you should have considered that when you sent me here in the first place. Still, it presents us with convenient story. Amend my service record to have had me in intelligence since the dreadnought. She'll hate it, but she'll accept it." Atton paused in place, letting a deep sigh escape.

Fiona nodded. "That seems acceptable to me. It will allay any sort of suspicions as well as to some of your... extracurriculars." She smirked. "I think I will enjoy crafting your service record in Intelligence. Any preferences for your history? Black operations? Behind enemy lines? Training of the newest ensigns for Intelligence Headquarters?"

"Just...just write whatever you want. You can't craft anything worse than the things we've done." Unconsciously, he began looking around as if looking for an escape while clenching his fists into balls. "Are we done here?"

"Indeed we are." She sat smugly for a second, then seemed to realize that it was not her own office. "I will expect a report at the end of your Polaris tour on the crew and so forth. The usual." Weber walked towards the door, then turned and looked back. "Try not to get yourself killed on a supply run," she added, smirking as she disappeared.