"You vanted to zee me?" Paul Deveraux asked. The sickbay facilities aboard the Arizona had worked nothing short of a miracle in patching him up after his encounter with the Son'a. He now stood in Tarik's quarters, a sparse, Fleet-issue cell that also served as his office aboard the Arizona.
"Yes, Lieutenant. There are a couple of things I wanted to discuss with you," Tarik said. Paul could tell by the tone of his voice that Tarik was not entirely happy with him.
"Major, I know zhat I blew it--"
"Save it, Lieutenant! I want you to think really hard about why I didn't allow you to accompany my platoon to the B'aku world."
Paul thought for a moment. "You wanted to make it personal," he answered.
"Far from it. I will confess to being upset at what happened to Kassia, but that wasn't my primary motivation. The B'aku village was still in danger, and Lieutenant Vasser had just been shot down. Either way, we would have been going down.
"The main reason I forbade you from accompanying us is because you're too headstrong and too impulsive for your own good! You were still pretty badly busted up, and even in perfect health I would have questioned the move.
"Sir, I have already heard zhis from ze Captain--"
"And you'll hear it from me, too! I am not going to risk my life or the lives of the Marines under my command just so you can go glory-hunting! Paul, I've read your research--I'm not a scientist, but I know enough to read the journals. You're a first-rate science officer. You could go very far in Starfleet as a science officer, and if that's what you want out of life, then by all means pursue it. Scientific and cultural inquiry is at the heart of what Starfleet stands for. But leave the violence to Security and to the Marines! That's why we're here, so science officers can focus on being science officers and not have to worry about self-preservation!"
Paul was, uncharacteristically, silent.
"Bet you thought you were called here for an ass-chewing, didn't you?" Tarik asked. "Only partly so. I won't let you leave here without saying that you did a hell of a job on Thermopylae and in rescuing Troy from the Son'a. If you wanted to go that route, you could have a wonderful future in another branch of the service."
Tarik opened a drawer and produced a jewelry box, handing it to Deveraux. Deveraux opened it. It was a set of bars for a Marine first lieutenant.
"I want you to think about this long and hard, Paul. On a personal level, I regard you as a brother. On a professional level, you've got a lot of potential no matter what course you pursue once you start showing a little maturity! If you accept the transfer, I'll see that you're assigned as my executive officer and adjutant. If you really want to make a living creating ruins rather than exploring them, let me know and I can assure you you'll learn how to do it right! But if you decide to stay a science officer, then focus on your goal and don't let your emotions get the better of you. Either way, it's your decision, but I'll tell you this:
"If you decide to transfer to the Marines, I will warn you now that I will tolerate no stupidity in a junior officer! The job is too critical, and too many lives depend upon level-heaed decision-making to allow a loose cannon in the ranks! So consider your position carefully."
"Yes, sir. Thank you, sir," Deveraux replied.
"Now, how are you feeling, Paul?" Tarik asked in a more conciliatory tone.
"Much better, sir. Ze ribs are all healed up, and I'm going on anothair away mission today!" Paul said. "How iz Kassia?"
"Considering what she's been through, she'll be fine. Just don't let anything like that happen to her again on your watch or the Son'a will be the last of your worries!!!"
"Of zhat I have no doubts!" Paul replied. "You do care about her, no?"
"If you're just now figuring that out, then I'd say you're well behind all of the Starfleet personnel and most of the civilians on the station--and probably at least half the Son'a!" Tarik laughed. "Yes, I care about her almost more than life itself! Which is why I'd like you to do one more thing."
"Oui, mon ami?"
Tarik pushed a PADD across his desk to Deveraux. "Kassia's eligible for the Prisoner of War citation, and a citation for bravery as well. She did one hell of a job creating confusion behind the enemy lines with no formal training whatsoever! The Captain's already signed off on the POW citation, but I need an officer who witnessed her bravery during capture. I can't sign off on this because it would be considered a conflict of interest. But you were there!"
"Major, I vas unconscious most of ze time!"
"Nonetheless, you weren't unconscious the rest of the time! And nobody but you, Kassia, and the Son'a know that. I don't think Kassia would object, and I doubt Starfleet Command's going to take the word of the Son'a. Just sign the damn thing, won't you?"
Paul grinned as he picked up a stylus and signed the PADD. "I like your tinking, Tarik!"
"Like I said, you could have a brilliant future in the Marines!"