Bad Reputation [3/3]

Posted on Sun Jan 19th, 2025 @ 9:13pm by Commander Cornelius 'Kit' Hanlon & Crewman Mateo Gardel
Edited on on Sun Jan 19th, 2025 @ 9:38pm

2,724 words; about a 14 minute read

Mission: To Boldly Go
Location: First Officer's Office, Deck 2, USS Fenrir
Timeline: Day 7

[ON – Continued]

“So yeah... I’ll do my best to keep things from going off the rails. And if they do, I’ll let you know before it becomes someone else’s problem.”
Kit gave him a small smile at seeing Mateo's, the human response. He understood. He had sort of expected it. It was about a balance. And he got Mateo's point of view; the fact that Mateo had recognised it and adapted, even if it was a no, meant a lot. "Then we do that," he said, giving him a nod.

Because it was a balance. About what worked for Mateo more than for Kit because this wasn't about Kit. This was about Mateo and what he needed. The offer had been large and Mateo had adjusted the scope of it to his own need. And it had cost him a lot not to just flat out refuse it, he could tell by how he moved. It was time to wind it down a little, now that the serious things were covered and they had a plan.

"Is there anything else that you want to ask about? Or know?" Kit asked, because he would also hate missing something that the young man before him might want to talk about now. And there was time, he had purposefully cleared time for this man.

Mateo nodded slightly, a quiet acknowledgment of Kit’s words as they settled into his thoughts. The nod wasn’t just for Kit—it was for himself too. A silent confirmation that he could do this, that maybe this plan could actually work.

When Kit asked if there was anything else, Mateo hesitated for a moment, glancing down as he ran a hand over the armrest of his chair. The question felt open-ended, and that kind of space always made him a little uneasy. There was plenty he wanted to ask—needed to ask—but sorting through what was important enough to bring up right now was the challenge.

After a beat, he looked back at Kit, his dark eyes steady. “Yeah, actually. What’s next?” he asked, his tone quiet but clear. “I mean... what do I need to do from here? Physical with the CMO? Check in with the Counselor? Find my quarters? Or do I just head to my lab and get started?”

He paused, his brow furrowing slightly as he thought ahead. “I haven’t even seen my lab yet—or what’s in it. Probably a good idea to check the inventory, make sure we’ve got everything we need.” There was a flicker of anticipation in his voice, the first hint of energy breaking through his usual guarded demeanor.

Mateo shifted in his seat, leaning forward just slightly. “I just want to get moving. Start settling in. Figure out what I’m working with.” He shrugged lightly, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “Standing still for too long has never really been my thing.”

But beneath the surface, Mateo’s thoughts churned. It wasn’t just about moving forward for his own sake—it never had been. I need to show them, he thought, his fingers brushing the seam of his jumpsuit. Starfleet. I need to prove I can do this. That I’m not... The thought trailed off, heavy and unfinished, leaving a knot of unease in his chest.

They’d already decided he was more trouble than he was worth—shuffling him from one posting to another until he landed here. Mateo couldn’t let that be the end of his story. He needed to prove that all the work, the time, the energy that had gone into shaping him wasn’t wasted. This was his chance to change the narrative, to show them he wasn’t just some broken part to discard.

Mateo exhaled softly, forcing himself to focus. He didn’t have time to dwell. Action mattered more than anything else right now. And for that, he needed clarity. “I just need to know where to start,” he said simply, his voice steady once again.

Kit smiled as he took a PADD, opening up the information he needed. "I can help with that," he said, his voice gentle as he met his eyes for a moment before looking down to read. "First thing, get to your quarters, get settled in, unpack. You will need to see the Chief Medical Officer and a Counsellor. The classic new ship, new check up. You'll also meet the Captain, she is trying to meet as many of the crew as she can and I know she's scheduled you in..." he slid the PADD over to him, with the various times booked in. Not overwhelmingly much.

Because Mateo had just arrived and there was a lot to do, so he wanted to make sure that he had time to take a breath. He had done it with everyone he could. Just because he himself was currently functioning in very little sleep and a lot of energy didn't mean he thought it was healthy or wanted others to do what he did.

Although he knew exactly what Mateo really wanted to know. It wasn't where his quarters were. It was the lab. And he had already pushed the right buttons for that. "Medical lab 1 is yours to use. Deck 7. But if you want my...advice, don't go there until you've unpacked and taken a moment. Try and explore the ship." And he suspected it would be disregarded and that was okay too. He didn't practice what he preached when it came to that and being hypocritical had never sat well with him. So he had framed it as gentle advice.

Mateo took the PADD as Kit slid it across the desk, his fingers brushing the edges as he glanced at the schedule displayed on the screen. A few appointments, nothing overwhelming—it was manageable. The thought of the lab, however, lingered. His skills had always been a double-edged sword—valuable, but often misunderstood. Here, though, he might finally have the chance to show how vital his expertise could be when it mattered most.

When Kit mentioned his quarters, Mateo’s brow furrowed slightly. “Quarters...” he stated, his voice carrying a note of curiosity. “Am I bunking with someone, or...?” He trailed off, glancing back down at the PADD, half-expecting to find an answer there. As junior enlisted, he was used to the cramped realities of shared space—sometimes with one or more roommates, and occasionally, the hell that was hotbunking. The idea of having his own room wasn’t even on his radar.

He nodded faintly as Kit continued, noting the mention of the required visits with the Chief Medical Officer and the Counselor. Standard fare, he thought, though the mention of the Counselor didn’t bother him. If anything, it was familiar territory. Counseling had been one of the few constants in his career—an anchor that helped him navigate the storm of his ODD, Starfleet’s rigid expectations, and his own restless mind. It wasn’t always easy, but it worked. He’d even come to respect the process, though he didn’t talk about it much.

What really caught his attention, though, was the mention of the lab. “Medical Lab 1,” Mateo murmured, more to himself than to Kit. Deck 7. His lab. A space he could actually call his own—or at least, his during his shift. That was something. No shared benches, no jostling for equipment, no compromises about how the space should be used. A place where he could finally work without interruption.

When Kit offered his advice, Mateo smirked faintly, the expression more reflex than anything. “Unpack, settle in, take a moment,” he echoed softly, his tone carrying the faintest hint of teasing. He appreciated the suggestion, even if he wasn’t sure he’d take it. The lab called to him, its possibilities already stirring in his mind.

“Explore the ship, huh?” Mateo asked, his voice lighter now. He leaned back slightly, the PADD resting on his lap as he glanced back at Kit. “Good advice. But... I’m not one for sitting idle. Chances are, I’ll end up in the lab anyway.”

He paused, the smirk fading as he tilted his head slightly. “But... thanks. For all this,” he added, his tone quieter now, more serious. “I know it’s your job, but... you didn’t have to make it this easy.” His gaze dropped to the PADD, his fingers brushing over the edge of the device. “And you didn’t have to trust me with a lab right off the bat, either. That’s... new.”

The admission was small, almost offhand, but the weight behind it was anything but. For Mateo, the lab wasn’t just a place to work; it was an opportunity to prove himself in a way he hadn’t been able to before. Starfleet might have lost faith in him, but now he had a space—and a chance—to show that he was more than just a name on a transfer list.

He exhaled softly, forcing his focus back to the present. “I’ll make it count,” he thought, keeping the words to himself but letting the determination settle into his expression.

"You're a specialist. You need a space for that," Kit said as he looked at him, raising an eyebrow before he chuckled, a hint of a blush coming to him. At the thanks. "And it's my job, sure, but...why make things hard for people? I get to organise stuff, might as well organise it right." And Kit wanted to do things right. Right for the people, for Starfleet, for the Federation.

I might be a soft touch, or too sensitive. Maybe I read too much into people. But I remember sitting in front of someone feeling like one breath and I'd do or say something stupid. I never want anyone to feel like that when sitting across from me, he thought to himself, reaching for his coffee and drinking the last of it. It was bitter and by now tepid, but he still drank it. He never wasted coffee.

"The quarters are shared, but it isn't like...five to a room. You'll share with one person, although we're still getting people onboard. I didn't see anyone else's name next to yours yet," he added this slowly, as if he was still thinking and had only now heard the half-question. Answering the wrong way around. He blinked and looked at Mateo, a small and almost self-conscious smile coming to him. "So I guess for the next couple of days at least, you're not sharing."

Mateo nodded as Kit explained the quarters situation, a flicker of relief crossing his face at the mention of having the space to himself—at least for now. Sharing with one person wasn’t ideal, but it was a far cry from the cramped chaos of some of his previous postings. He could live with that.

His thoughts, however, quickly shifted to the lab. A space of his own. The idea tugged at him, sparking both curiosity and the familiar itch to dive into his work—his preferred refuge.

“Got it,” he said simply, his tone steady but not unfriendly. He tapped the edge of the PADD lightly with his fingertips, the motion small and absentminded as he mulled over the next steps.

The conversation had been easier than he’d expected—far easier, really. There had been no judgment, no veiled warnings or passive-aggressive reminders to fall in line. It left Mateo feeling a little off-balance, like his internal script for meetings like this had suddenly gone missing. But that wasn’t a bad thing. If anything, it made him more eager to dive in and prove he could handle the trust Kit was extending.

After a moment, Mateo rose to his feet, the PADD in hand. His movements were deliberate, calm, but the anticipation simmering beneath the surface was hard to ignore. The lab, the inventory, his quarters—it all felt like pieces of a puzzle waiting to be put together.

Still, he was mindful of Kit’s time. The XO clearly had a lot on his plate; there were likely dozens of other crew members awaiting their one-on-one welcomes, and Mateo had already taken more time than he’d expected. No sense in dragging things out when there were tasks he could tackle on his own.

“Thanks again, Commander,” Mateo said, his voice quieter now but no less sincere. “For the lab. For all of this.” He hesitated, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “And for not making this feel like a tribunal. Appreciate that.”

He adjusted his posture, straightening slightly as he stood before Kit. Protocol dictated he wait for dismissal, but the subtle tension in his stance hinted at his readiness to go. Not out of impatience, but out of respect for Kit’s time—and a growing eagerness to hit the ground running. For the first time in a long time, Mateo felt like he had a reason to look forward to what came next.

Kit smiled for a moment, watching him closely. Like a racehorse ready to go. He couldn't just keep him back and the meeting had gone its natural journey. "Thank you, Crewman Gardel," he said and gave him a nod. "You're dismissed. I'll set up another meeting with us before we leave spacedock, just to see how you're settling in. Have a good day, and don't overdo it," he said the last with a chuckle, because he was pretty sure that overdoing it was something most of them would do in the coming week.

Mateo stood a little straighter at Kit’s words, the faintest flicker of a smile tugging at his lips. “Thank you, sir,” he replied, his tone even but carrying a subtle undercurrent of something that hadn’t been there at the start of the meeting: confidence.

As he turned and stepped toward the door, PADD still in hand, he felt a strange mix of emotions swirling just beneath the surface. When he’d walked in here, he’d expected the worst—a stern lecture, thinly veiled warnings, maybe even the dreaded “one last chance” speech. It was the kind of thing he’d learned to brace for, to meet with sarcasm and a stoic exterior that hid the frustration beneath. But this? This had been different.

Kit hadn’t treated him like a problem to be managed or a name on a transfer list. He’d spoken to him like a person, with trust and respect that Mateo hadn’t felt in a long time. Maybe ever. It was unsettling in a way, but also... grounding. For the first time in a long time, Mateo didn’t feel like he had to fight just to stand his ground.

The door slid open with a quiet hiss, and Mateo stepped through, the soft hum of the ship’s systems filling the air around him. He paused for a moment just beyond the threshold, his fingers tightening slightly around the PADD as he replayed the conversation in his mind. The lab. The quarters. The clear expectations. The willingness to listen.

He exhaled softly, the tension in his shoulders easing just a little. It wasn’t trust—not yet—but it was something close. Something he could build on. For the first time in what felt like ages, Mateo found himself looking forward to the work ahead, not just as a way to prove himself, but because it felt like it might actually matter.

With a faint smirk, he started down the corridor, his steps purposeful. There was much to do, and he felt the pull of anticipation more keenly than he had in years. For once, it didn’t feel like a solitary struggle against a system determined to see him fail. But as much as the idea of working under someone like Kit gave him hope, Mateo knew better than to let his guard down entirely. Trust was earned, not given—and he intended to earn it, one step at a time.

[OFF]

Commander Cornelius ‘Kit’ Hanlon
First Officer

&

Crewman Mateo Gardel
Medical Science Specialist

 

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