Turnout Trouble
Posted on Fri Aug 8th, 2025 @ 7:00pm by Sergeant Jace Morven & Lieutenant Colonel W.B Llewelyn & Sergeant Major Bellona Juventus
Edited on on Fri Aug 8th, 2025 @ 7:25pm
3,128 words; about a 16 minute read
Mission:
Prologue
Location: Deck 13
Timeline: 0242 hours
On any other day, deck 13 in the silent hours was a peaceful place. Just one or maybe two soldiers on duty, maybe, with a dozy Private or someone completing their obligatory rounds of the deck for security. Dead silence. You could sit somewhere secluded, fall asleep and no one would notice.
Not tonight. The dozy young Corporal seated at the duty desk bolted awake as the sound of boots tapping on the deck rang through the hallway like artillery rounds hitting the ground. Their eyes widened with fear when they saw the owner of those boots, striding into the lobby of the barracks like a goddess of war descending upon all that she held dominion over.
"Good morning, Sergeant Major! I-" Their stammering was silenced, immediately, when Bellona's blue-eyed gaze, hard as steel, met theirs.
"Dispense with the pleasantries, Corporal. I want to see a level three readiness drill. Now." Bellona stated, plainly, as she retreated into a corner of the barracks she was certain she would not be seen until she wanted to be seen.
"Yes, Sergeant Major! Right away!" The corporal scrambled to hit one of the buttons on their desk before fleeing for the armory. Red light and blaring warning klaxons filled the deck at once.
From his private room, Lieutenant Colonel W.B Llewelyn bolted up in his bed at the sudden squeal and whine of the alert klaxons blaring through the barracks. He was up, quickly, pulling on his uniform jacket and pants as he gather up his boots as he rushed to the muster points. Something must be happening as he tapped his commbadge.
“Llewelyn to McEntyre, Ground Forces will be deployed in five minutes.”
“The hell?” The commodore sounded half asleep which was odd, given that alerts were sounding across the Ground Forces stations.
“Sir?” Llewelyn replied confused.
“Colonel, I’m not sure what’s goin on but it’s the ass end of the night”
Llewelyn stopped before the doors to the main staging area on Deck 13.
“Understood, sir” something didn’t add up right. No trainings or drills were on the schedule and if the Commodore wanted a drill, he’d would have told him of it so that Llewelyn would be able to get reports gathered because Llewelyn would be running it. Noting this, W.B opened the main doors stepping in to see the nervous corporal and most of the detachment armored and ready.
“What in the blue hell is goin on?” Llewelyn asked, he normally didn’t get angry but this “drill” was a surprise even to him.
Bellona chose that moment to emerge from her corner and make her presence known to the detachment. She stopped in front of her commanding officer and saluted sharply; she hadn't gone through the proper channels to make this drill happen, but she'd seen enough to learn that, in times of danger, punching through red tape before all else slowed things down far too much. That could mean minutes or hours before something concrete was done, and hours meant lives lost. Always.
And, as far as she was concerned, she didn't care whether she was liked - by her CO or the troops under her. Vigilance did not speak in sweet, honeyed tongues, or wrap itself in pleasing cloth. Her job was to make sure that the rank and file was ready to do theirs, and that was all.
"An unplanned readiness drill, sir, initiated by myself." She stated crisply. "It was my intent to assess the readiness of our soldiers should emergent situations arise, even at inconvenient hours."
"I see that they have performed acceptably. Rest assured, sir, that future exercises will be made known to yourself and the Commodore well ahead of time, and that all personnel involved will be compensated fairly for their interrupted rest." Yep, she had to cover this base, too, as much as she considered it a drag to do so. Bellona's hand remained at her temple, awaiting her commanding officer's response - no matter what it would be.
Sergeant Jace Morven stood with Alpha Squad. The klaxons had barely finished their first howl when he’d pulled on armour with the kind of precision that came from years of treating every alert as real. His squad stood ready. No fuss. No wasted motion. A tapped boot heel here, a corrected sling there. They followed his rhythm without needing to be told.
Now, stillness. Not the soft kind. The watching kind. The Sergeant Major stepped from shadow like she’d planned it. No speech. No nod. Just presence: sharp and cold. She didn’t care who liked her, only that they obeyed.
Morven didn’t blink. Just watched.
The Colonel’s surprise didn’t matter. She hadn’t cleared it. No comms. No warning. That meant intent. Or arrogance. His people were watching. He gave them nothing. Just steadiness. This was new. And with new things, Morven assessed. Intent. Pattern. Risk. And what this woman might bring to the battalion.
Llewelyn stared down the new Sergeant Major before him, taking her in. Her stance, her arrogance, her clear lack of the chain of command. He tilts his head towards her with an observing look to him.
“Computer” he started, the computer chimed back in acknowledgment, “End Drill”
“Ending Drill” the computer replied in a monotone tone.
“Battalion,” Llewelyn started before a plucky private piped up. “COMMODORE ON DECK!”
The entire battalion stood to attention as standing in the door to the barracks, holding his 4 year old son in his arms, Elias McEntyre, dressed like he had gotten out of bed. His son, Emery let out a cruddy hacking cough, still clearly not feeling well.
Llewelyn turned on his heels as the commodore strode in.
“Lieutenant Colonel.” Elias started before he too stood before the Magna Romani Sergeant Major. Elias never used Llewelyn’s full rank unless he was angry and the commodore was rarely angry.
“So…Elaborate on why I was woken to y’all running a drill without clearance from me?”
Morven snapped to attention with the rest of the battalion, boots locked and shoulders square. No hesitation. The word Commodore had barely left the private’s mouth before he was motionless.
Then his eyes clocked the child.
Small. Curled against the officer’s chest, face buried in the crook of his shoulder. One soft cough, then another. Unwell. Clinging. Fur tousled like he’d been lifted from bed. The Commodore’s clothes told the same story: thrown on, not fastened clean. Still carried authority like it lived in his spine.
Morven kept his gaze forward. Expression unreadable. But he didn’t miss the subtle edge in the Colonel’s spine. Or the weight in Commodore McEntyre’s voice when he used the full rank.
Someone had crossed a line.
And now command had teeth in the room.
He didn’t move. Didn’t speak. Just held position, steady and still. Watching. Always watching.
The weight of the moment was worse because the Commodore wasn’t even in uniform. Wearing a faded Starfleet Academy shirt, that’s logo was faded and cracked with age, plaid pajamas bottoms, bare feet and a robe of red terry cloth. Emery had looked like he had been woken up by the alarms and none too happy, especially compounded by being sick as he was. The commodore radiated his displeasure at being woken up by the alarms and a sick child.
Llewelyn turned. “Sir, it was an unscheduled drill, conducted by our new Sergeant Major.”
Elias turned his attention to the new Sergeant Major, looking her down before looking up at the formation,
“Y’all stand at ease, except for you, Sergeant Major” Elias called out to the formation, before he turned once again to Llewelyn. “Will you take him for a moment?”
Llewelyn nodded, as Elias passed Emery over to him. “Just be for a moment, EmEm.” Elias told his son before giving his full attention to the Sergeant Major.
“I assume you have your orders on you?” He asked as he pulls out a pair of reading glasses from his robe pocket.
"Yes, sir." Bellona reached into her pocket, pulled up her posting orders and handed them to the Commodore with both hands for inspection before standing almost painfully at attention before him, waiting to be addressed - or dressed down - before speaking if asked.
Either way, it didn't matter to her. This would be a one-time thing. As far as she cared, she'd done her job. Roughly, perhaps, and with much less procedure than those above her would've liked, but so be it.
Elias nods, accepting the orders. He puts on his glasses, reading over her orders and career vitae. He looks it over with quiet intensity, his head moving from side to side as he read.
“Starfleet Special Forces. I assume you’ve read some of my old works on the subject?” He asked. He wrote some of the modern interpretations of Special Warfare tactics.
"Yes, sir." No trace of pride or even joy crossed Bellona's features as he mentioned her previous record. Opportunities had been given to her, and she had seized them in a manner worthy of the goddess for whom she was named. That was all.
It was a tense few moments before he handed the orders back to her.
“Stand at ease,” he began.
“While I am not a fan of drills at 2 am, I do applaud forward thinking and the point of view of where you were approaching this from. We don’t get many Magna Romani in Starfleet so I’ll be keeping my eye on you. Still, I am sure that the Colonel will be happy having a command sergeant Major on staff.”
"It will not happen again without your express knowledge, sir." Bellona stated, plainly, standing at ease in front of him - though her version of 'stand at ease' was arguably still too stiff.
"As I informed Colonel Llewelyn, future readiness drills will be made known to and discussed with him and all other relevant personnel well ahead of time, and all personnel involved today will be compensated adequately for their interrupted rest." Bellona glanced between the Commodore and her CO.
"Permission to address the unit, sirs." She requested, plainly.
Elias leans down to the Sergeant Major and spoke low, only letting her hear.
“One thing, you ever pull a stunt like this, I’ll walk all up and down your ass and ship you back to Tarkin Ridge. Do you understand me?”
"Crystal clear, sir." Bellona replied, meeting his eyes with her own steely gaze. "Nothing else like this without your express knowledge."
Morven had shifted to stand at ease when the order came, his movements silent, automatic. Alpha followed him, as always. His eyes stayed forward.
But his mind didn’t.
He tracked every motion in the room. The way the had Commodore passed the child off without ceremony. The way Llewelyn took the weight with a nod and not a word. The slow tilt of the Commodore’s head as he read. His fingers at the edge of the page. The flex of the robe sleeve when he folded his arms. The placement of feet. Centre of gravity. Distance to exit.
Bellona hadn’t moved much. Not wrong, exactly. But rigid. Overcorrected. Holding tension in her shoulders like it was armour. None of it was a threat. Not now. But it could have been. The lean-in, words whispered. Unreadable in the moment. As was the answer back. Not for their ears, the troopers standing there lined up.
Morven kept his posture loose, his breathing slow. Eyes fixed forward. Ears tuned to the rhythm of silence between words. No judgment. No emotion. Just pattern.
Elias then took a step back from the Sergeant Major. “Detachment! Stand to attention for the Sergeant Major!”
Bellona's eyes, blue as the ocean and cold as steel, swept over the gathered unit as she executed a sharp about turn to face them. She had to hand it to them; despite being shaken out of bed at unearthly hours of the morning, they'd pressed themselves into reasonable shape and organised themselves as they were supposed to.
"Troop, open ranks for inspection!" Bellona ordered, as she took her first steps down the line, inspecting every soldier's bearing with a discerning eye - a goddess of war, inspecting her cavalry before a decisive battle. She didn't shout or even raise her voice as she spoke - she preferred to command by sheer weight of presence alone. She'd long ago learned to raise her words, not her voice. Doing the latter did nothing for the attention span - least of all in this day and age.
Jace shifted to attention the moment the command came. No wasted motion. No hesitation. Alpha Squad moved with him, silent and exact.
He didn’t look at her. Not directly. His eyes stayed forward, posture held. But he tracked her in the periphery. Measured her pace. The way her boots landed. The silence she carried. She walked the line. He stayed still.
Read her without reading her. And waited.
"I am Sergeant Major Bellona Juventus, of Magna Roma. I will be your Command Sergeant Major for the duration of this posting. Allow me to congratulate you on a job well done. You responded admirably to this drill in spite of the time of day - your response time was precisely six minutes and thirty seconds; well within my expectations of a well-trained unit. For that, you have earned yourselves a pat on the back, when you have been released. Rest assured that everyone standing in front of me will receive adequate and fair compensation in rest for your participation today." She paused in front of a young Private to tie the knot holding the sling of his phaser rifle to his body a little tighter. She and her fellow operators had been taught something simple: treat your weapon like thine own spouse. When the hardest time of one's life comes, the strongest source of safety is one's own spouse - the very same with a soldier and his weapon, really.
"But! That is all the praise you will receive today." She paused her slow, unhurried walk at the very end of the first row of troopers. "If any of you arrived to this station harbouring the thought that you were given a calm, uneventful 'golden ticket' posting, you will discard that thought now. A 'golden ticket' implies a prize won with ease - and that sentiment breeds complacency. At no point will complacency find a home in my unit. Each of you knows that what you accomplished today is only the bare minimum. We must do better - we can do better - for the sake of our Starfleet colleagues, and so we will do better."
"This morning's exercise will be the first of many." She resumed her walk now, inspecting the second row of troops. "Not all of them will occur at convenient times. There is no shortage of enemies that turn up their noses at our rulebook, that will strike when our guard is lowest. So we will train ourselves and get better at what we do, and make sure that none other will find purchase over us - because the security of those around us demands it."
"To that end, I expect no whingeing, no grumbling, no wringing of hands when it matters, because our mission demands it. You will not like all of the training that we do together. Feel frustrated or downtrodden if you'd like, grumble to each other in private if you feel the need, it's only human - but when the time comes, the only expression I want to see on your faces is a state of readiness to confront what comes, because that is what we must do. You will show me your best, and only your best. I vow, with our senior commanders as witness, that I will, at all times, show you the very same - no more, no less."
"I pledge before you now that I shall be firm but fair, and that I will treat you with every ounce of dignity and compassion you have earned. No more, no less." She declared, now walking amongst the third row of troops. "I pledge, with the Gods of my homeworld as witness, if the need ever comes, to die amongst you as a fellow soldier. Whatever the danger that comes, we will face it as one unit. This I swear." She completed her inspection then, seemingly satisfied with the condition of her troops. Silence reigned as Bellona walked back to the front of the gathered men and women and turned to face them, expression stony but not quite cold.
"Because we dare." The unit's motto erupted like a gunshot over the ranks.
Sergeant Morven stood motionless as she spoke, face unreadable, eyes fixed forward. The words rolled over him like drills always did. Measured cadence. High ideals. The same structure, heard a hundred times before, this was just a different voice.
Until...
“If the need ever comes, to die amongst you as a fellow soldier.”
That hit something. Not her voice. Not the vow. The truth underneath it. The kind that didn’t need saying.
Vel would never have said those words. He hadn’t needed to.
Jace felt it then, low in the chest. Not grief exactly. Just the echo of where grief used to sit. A hollow space long since bricked over. He didn’t move. Didn’t blink. But his fingers curled slightly tighter, pressure felt. And then it was gone. Locked down again. Expression smooth. Posture perfect. Still. But somewhere behind his ribs, a quiet weight had shifted.
As the unit called back their motto, he stayed silent, eyes forward. But something in his stance had changed.
Elias nods, quietly taking back his son from Llewelyn. The Lieutenant Colonel stepped behind Bellona.
"Detachment! Dismissed!" He bellowed before he turns to his new Sergeant Major.
"I will brief you in the morning on our current operation schedule, and suggest you get some sleep, hoo-ah?"
"Hoo-ah, sir. I eagerly await the briefing." Bellona waited for all the rest of her unit to file out the door before turning on her heel and walking out.
-----
Commodore Elias McEntyre
Commanding Officer
U.S.S. Guinevere
Lieutenant Colonel W.B. Llewelyn
Detachment Commanding Officer
U.S.S. Guinevere
Sergeant Jace Morven
Platoon Sergeant, Alpha Squad
FGF Detachment
USS Guinevere
Sergeant Major Bellona Juventus
Command Sergeant Major
FGF Detachment
USS Guinevere
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