Demotions Can Be a ...

Posted on Tue Aug 26th, 2025 @ 3:17pm by Captain David Hawkins & Captain Johnathon Hayter (Hawkins) & Commander Raiden Kosugi

Mission: Just Another Day on Gladiator
Location: Judge Advocate General Sector - Starfleet Command - Earth
4571 words - 9.1 OF Standard Post Measure

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“This is bullshit…”

John’s voice shattered the silence as he stormed into the empty conference room, dress shoes hammering against the polished deck plating. He ripped at his collar, yanking the top button open with an aggressive flick. “Total bullshit.”

The tablet in his hand slammed onto the table, skidding before spinning to a stop. He paced, fast and tight, the room feeling smaller with each step. Finally, he froze in front of the floor to ceiling window and stared out, jaw tight.

Outside, Starfleet Command buzzed with its usual precision sleek shuttles weaving between pads, officers in crisp uniforms flowing through the plaza with practiced purpose. But John's eyes locked on one building in particular, the Legal Affairs Division. Cold. Impenetrable. Silent. The very symbol of the hell storm now bearing down on him.

“I did everything by the book,” he growled at the glass. “And somehow, I’m the one they’re ready to crucify.”

“You’re lucky you’re even still in Starfleet,” came the voice — calm, clipped, and absolutely unmistakable.

John didn’t turn.

Captain David Hawkins stepped inside in his shadows with the kind of command presence that made the room feel smaller just by standing in it. His arms stayed relaxed at his sides, but his gaze was all steel.

“You think this is bullshit?” Hawkins said, his voice low and measured. “You stole a Federation starship. The USS Resolute. Command wanted to throw you in a cell on Ananke and forget your access codes ever existed.”

John turned slowly, eyes sharp. “They kidnapped d’Jax—”

“Commander Tayla,” Hawkins corrected firmly. Professional. Deliberate. Drawing the line.

John bristled but pressed on. “They were experimenting on her… merging her blood with multiple alien samples to manipulate the child she was carrying. It wasn’t just a medical horror show, it was...”

“There was more than enough time to coordinate with your team,” Hawkins interrupted. “They were out there too. Risking just as much to save her.”

“THEY WERE KILLING THEM BOTH!” John snapped, fists clenched, fully aware he was stepping out of line—again. Story of his career.

A heavy pause followed. Hawkins let it settle before responding, his tone gentler, older, more personal. “I know.”

John looked away, jaw twitching. He felt the tension in his shoulders ease, just slightly, as Hawkins stepped closer.

“That group… the ones behind this? They’re like cockroaches. You kill one, three more crawl out from under the deck plating,” John muttered. “I had to act. I couldn’t watch it happen. If it were your child, your partner, what would you have done?”

“There’s always a chain of command,” Hawkins replied, tone formal once more, the necessary mask of command he was now molded into for over a decade. “You crossed it. You shattered it. You made it personal. You gambled with your life, our crew’s lives, and Starfleet’s trust. Hell, my trust. Faked your deaths... And somehow… somehow you’re still in uniform.”

They locked eyes for a long moment. Then, finally, John exhaled a dry chuckle.

“Yeah... yeah, I guess I should say thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” Hawkins said, the tension between them ebbing like the tide. “You made the call no one else should. Let alone trusted me, of all people.”

Silence fell again, broken only by the distant hum of business as usual beyond the glass.

John turned back to the window, brow furrowed. The stakes hadn’t changed. Only the clarity.

Behind him, Hawkins walked to the table and picked up the discarded tablet. He studied the screen briefly, then placed it back down with calm precision.

“They’re not going to bury you. But don’t expect applause either. You’re on a razor’s edge, John. And this tantrum? It’s not helping. So knock it off.”

He let the words hang in the air before continuing.

“Get your head straight. And calm down. I had to call in a few favors just to keep this thing from exploding.”

John looked over his shoulder, one eyebrow arched. “What strings… and whose ass do I have to kiss next?”

"That would be mine." uttered a voice from the now open conference room door. "Captain Rutherford of the USS Orcrist." the man's hazel eyes having an amused expression in them, announced.

He turned towards the dark haired XO. "Thank you, Commander Kosugi." giving a slight smile recognizing the man.

Raiden nodded, then left the doorway, the door closing behind Captain Rutherford.

"I'm looking for someone who's not wet behind the ears, and has some mileage on them." he gaze went to Captain Hawkins. "Is this the one you were talking about?"

“Yup,” he said simply, before glancing toward the door where Kosugi had exited. “Appreciate you bringing him, Commander. Sorry you both missed the grand finale... final arguments, closing statements. The board was in rare form today.”

His tone was dry, but the undercurrent of relief was hard to miss.

He turned back to Rutherford, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.

"Must have been quite the set of fireworks going on there. Sorry I missed it in person." Elijah's mouth twitching.

John arched an eyebrow, glancing between the two captains before turning to Hawkins with mock offense. “Wow. That’s a poetic way of saying I’m ancient and basically space junk. Should I go limp now and let the retirement party begin, or do I get a fruit basket first?”

Raiden stepped back inside bringing in some drinks and refreshments. This might be a long meeting or not.

"You're still a puppy, since you're younger than we are." Elijah raising an eyebrow towards Hayter. "I do need someone with experience, I've got a new ship, literally a new ship. And I'm looking for people I can count on. I'm not looking for a yes man but I also want someone who's going to work with me as well."

Elijah accepting the drink that Raiden offered. Whisky, He wondered if Raiden had a sixth sense about him.

Raiden looked at the other two, if to ask if they wanted anything.

John looked between the three and shook his head as he looked walked over at the refreshments. "Hell, why not. Not like we are across from Legal. What ya got for the strongest refreshment?"

"Whisky is the strongest. Didn't want to get into trouble with bringing in Romulan Ale." Raiden actually saying something this time.

Raiden really hoped that Hayter wasn't going to torpedo himself.

“I take back some of the things I’ve said about you,” the Marine muttered as he walked over, grabbing the bottle of whiskey and bypassing the glass entirely. With one practiced motion, he popped the top and took a healthy swig.

“So let me get this straight...” he continued, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, “...not only am I being dragged back in, but now I’m being reassigned as a Marine, part of some brand-new detachment?”

He paused, eyeing Rutherford with a half-smirk.

“Let me guess... fresh crop of wide-eyed rookies straight outta basic? All boots and no battlefield?”

"That remains to be seen." Elijah responded. "Unless you feel you are too old to get them up to snuff if they are like that. " not batting an eye. He took a sip of his drink, giving a nod of approval.

Raiden smirked at Hayter in answer. "Water off a ducks back" he said.

Before Hayter could get another swig, Hawkins stepped forward and smoothly plucked the whiskey bottle from his hand like a disappointed older brother.

"Easy, Marine," Hawkins said with a dry smirk. “Let’s not get blackout philosophical before the man’s even finished his recruitment pitch.”

He took a swig of his own of the whiskey before he sat the bottle on the nearby table, far enough out of Hayter’s reach to make a point but not cause a scene.

Hayter exhaled through his nose, grinning faintly as he gave a slow shake of his head.

"Doesn't sound like I have a choice in all this. And what's the deal with that damn ship's name? Who named it, the damn Tellarites? "

"Orcrist the sword of the Dwarven King; Thorin Oakenshield from the Hobbit. Also the meaning of that name is Goblin Cleaver. It's a good name." Elijah responded, not letting Hayter get under his skin. "It's a name to be proud of."

"Yeah if you are some Dungeon and Dragons mega-Nerd..." John shot back as he reached out and snagged the bottle again, reclaiming it with zero shame.

The bottle didn't stay too long in Hayter's hand. Elijah plucking it out of his grasp. "Thank you." he said calmly.

"Thank you, Captain." as he looked directly at Hayter. "Get some respect of the ship, Hayter. And for yourself too, as well as Captain Hawkins. He didn't want you to get imprisoned."

“I’m sorry, Captain,” he snapped, the word sharp with bitterness. “But they had the gall to demote me to captain?”

His voice was low, furious, barely restrained.

“What’s next? Mopping decks on a freighter full of Tellarite school kids?”

“Captain Rutherford’s working with JAG, so if that’s the rank they’ve assigned you, it’s out of my hands,” Hawkins replied with a slight shrug. “Temporary or not, it’s his call.”

"I know that is a hard lot to swallow. Those were serious charges. And speaking as someone who has a family of my own. I do get why you did what you did. If someone were to do that to my wife, heaven help the person who harms her. The choice is yours, Hayter, take the demotion get back to a better rank or just throw yourself away. It would be a waste though. I now owe someone a favor or two, or more. Hawkins wasn't the only one who pulled strings. Do you know what it is like to be in hock with an admiral?" Elijah grimaced.

Hayter didn’t answer right away.

Instead, he grabbed the whiskey bottle back without asking, twisted off the cap, and took a long, unflinching pull. The silence stretched as he swallowed, then turned to stare out the window not into the stars, but across the street, where the JAG building loomed in its cold, sterile architecture, bathed in artificial lights and quiet judgment.

His jaw flexed.

“Yeah,” he said finally, voice low and tight. “Hard lot doesn’t even begin to cover it.”

He took another, smaller sip. The anger in him didn’t flare anymore — it burned cold now.

“All I’ve ever done is fight for the uniform. For the crew. For the people who couldn’t fight for themselves. And now I’m standing here, stripped down, wearing a title that feels like a bad joke, being told to be grateful for it.”

He exhaled sharply through his nose, shaking his head as his eyes stayed locked on the JAG offices.

“Hock with an admiral? Hell, I’ve pissed off half a dozen just by breathing wrong. So yeah… I get it. But it doesn’t make it go down any smoother.”

The bottle hung loosely in his hand now, fingers tightening around the neck of it.

“I didn’t ask to be saved, Elijah. I asked for the chance to do what was right. And I’d do it again, without blinking.”

He scoffed, eyes still fixed on the JAG building.

“Bureaucratic vultures... cold, calculating, pencil-pushing bastards. Only fear they know is a paper cut or their uniform pants not fitting after lunch.”

His voice dropped, barely above a whisper, the anger giving way to something quieter, something heavier.

Hayter stood in silence, the whiskey bottle hanging loosely in his hand as he stared across at the cold, sterile JAG building.

Demoted.

The word still burned.

They’d reduced everything he’d done to violations and paperwork. No context. No lives saved. Just ink on a report and a line through his name.

But behind the anger, something else stirred.

Tayla. The baby. Alive. Safe. Because he’d acted.

He closed his eyes for a breath, jaw tight. Rank? Hell, he'd been in worse places with no rank at all. But it still stung—being told he was too much trouble to trust with what he’d earned.

He took another sip, slower this time.

The rage didn’t disappear. It settled. Hardened.

“They could’ve taken my name, my rank,” he muttered, voice low only for him to hear. “Just not them.”

Elijah reached out a hand and gripped Hayter's shoulder. "You did right, risked it all. I've got respect for you. I agree they gave you a raw deal. " he understood the anger.

Every instinct screamed at him to pull away, to shrug off the man’s hand with a growl and a glare. Don’t touch me. That was the old reflex — the battle-hardened response forged in years of distrust and survival.

But he didn’t move.

Not this time.

Because deep down, he knew Elijah wasn’t the threat. Hell, he didn’t even know the man, but something in his tone, in his eyes, didn’t set off the usual alarms. Another voice in his corner, maybe. And those were in short supply lately.

John stayed still, jaw tight, eyes fixed ahead.

He knew he’d screwed up — not in what he did, but in how far he pushed it. The fallout wasn’t a surprise. Lashing out at everyone around him? That was on him too. No excuses.

The part that gnawed at him most, though, was the one he couldn’t shake. The quiet, choking sense that he didn’t deserve the strings being pulled on his behalf. Not Hawkins’. Not Elijah’s. Not anyone’s.

He would’ve done the same for his team, no hesitation. But being on the receiving end? That was harder. Much harder.

Hawkins, standing nearby with his arms crossed, finally spoke, voice low, steady. “You don't have to like it,” he said, looking at Hayter, not judging, just knowing. “You just have to live up to it.”

He didn’t wait for a response. Didn’t need one. And for once, John didn’t have one to give.

A final squeeze on Hayter's shoulder, Elijah let go. "You're a good man."

Elijah then looked over towards Hawkins, one captain to another, both having faced some common situations. "Thank you, Captain Hawkins, sometime later, we'll have a drink and have a talk." raising an eyebrow.

Raiden glanced over to the two captains then walked up to Hayter. "Mind if I have a moment of your time? Captain Hayter?"

The mention of his new rank made John visibly cringe. He didn’t bother hiding the eye roll that followed, lifting the glass of whiskey Raiden had provided and taking another slow sip.

“Well, it’s only fair,” he muttered, voice dry. “You did bring sustenance. Bribery accepted.”

Raiden saw the cringe. "Okay, maybe I should have called you, Hayter or John. We've not been on the friendly level." the XO giving a shrug. "Just my own piece of advice, give Captain Rutherford a chance and whatever ideas he has with his new ship. He's a good man, and he was the XO on the ship I served on as helm, the USS Starstrike. Nice to see that he's going to a ship I feel he is better suited for an Akira class. And that he made it to Captain."

Raiden glancing back towards Rutherford.

John let out a quiet breath through his nose, the edge softening just a little.

“No offense taken,” he muttered, swirling the whiskey in the bottle before taking a sip. “I’ve been called worse than Captain, lately. At least you weren’t holding a court order when you said it.”

He glanced at Raiden, then followed his gaze toward Rutherford.

“Look… I’m not here to burn the next ship down or steal it just to act out. I am better than that. If he’s good, I’ll know soon enough. I’ve worked under worse.”

There was a pause just long enough to make the next part feel honest.

“I’m not looking to start trouble. Just trying to figure out if there’s anything left worth fighting for.”

His eyes dropped briefly to the floor, then back up to Raiden.

“Appreciate the heads-up.”

Raiden's attention went back to Hayter, a faint smile. giving a nod in acknowledgement to his thanks. "That is something a few of us have had to figure out, if we've got any worth. "

He took the bottle from Hayter to take a drink from it. "Good thing I brought another one." giving a wink.

"Also I didn't think you would steal the ship either or burn it to the ground. Just don't do that to yourself either, setting yourself on fire. I see someone who is worthwhile and has a lot of worth. Both of them can see it in you." Raiden handing the bottle back to Hayter.

John took the bottle back with a grunt that might’ve been a laugh or just a breath caught in the middle of something heavier.

“I’m not the self help type,” he muttered, eyes locked on the glass. “But I’ll try not to go full arson.”

He took a sip, then added under his breath, almost as an afterthought. “No promises.”

“Can’t say I’m surprised,” John replied, setting the bottle down with a dull clink. “Crew’s been scattered, ship gutted. Hell, I’m surprised you managed to keep her at all.”

He glanced over at Hawkins with a raised brow.

“How’s Davvy boy handling the whole ‘no ship, no command’ thing? Still brooding by the viewports, or has he started a gardening hobby yet?”

"No gardening hobby yet. And it hit him hard, we'll get the ship back though ,we'll get her back." Raiden, looked over towards David. then turned back to Hayter.

" I need some advice from you. And that is about Petty Officer Spitfire, I've been keeping tabs on her, but she's seemed to have lost a bit of her fire. Her family reached out to me wondering just what has happened." Raiden having a rather concerned look.

Hayter exhaled slowly through his nose, then looked over at Raiden with a dry expression.

“She got dealt a raw hand, just like the rest of us. Only difference is, she doesn’t know how to fake being fine.”

He leaned back slightly, arms folded with the bottle of whiskey now against his chest, almost like he was a child clinging onto their stuffed animal.

“If you’re asking me? Don’t bury her in busy work or handholding. Give her a post that matters, something real. Hell, maybe even under Rutherford. He’s a new face, which she maybe given something to prove, just like she used to.”

A pause. Then quieter.

“Give her a reason to fight again.”

"Have you spoken to her since your disappearance? Maybe she needs to talk to you. You two seemed to have bonded when you both got into that barfight, on a friendship level." Raiden felt that this could help bring Tia out of her slump.

Raiden also took note of how Hayter was holding onto the bottle.

"You are the one who gave Tia the nickname of Spitfire" Raiden had an amused expression in his eyes. "That nickname truly fit her."

"Well, I just called it how I saw it," the marine countered before he shrugged.

Raiden had a half smile. "Well, I will take your suggestions and see what I can do with Tia. Do you have a message to send to her?"

While Raiden and Hayter spoke, Elijah glanced over towards the two men, then returned his attention to David. "I am hoping that this change will be a good one for him. I'm willing to work with Hayter but its going to be all up to him on his success."

David let out a quiet sigh, shaking his head. “You think he made Lieutenant Colonel because I handed it to him? Hell no. I only bumped him to Captain the first time because he hit time-in-grade. Hayter earns what he gets.”

He paused, voice dropping slightly. “Success? That’s not what you need to worry about with him. It’s making sure he doesn’t piss off the wrong people on the way up that’ll keep you busy.”

"I will keep that in mind, there will be some growing pains most definitely." Elijah responded, "Looks like we're going to be getting to know each other and figuring out how he will get along with the crew."

"Looks like it," David agreed as he nodded before turning away from Hayter and his first officer and looked at the Captain. "So, I hear you don't like the Sovereign class and chose to take command of an Akira class."

"I was an XO on an Akira class ship, the Starstrike and after being Captain of a Nebula class, The Nighthawk, and then the Majestic, I found that I like the Akira the best. Its a hard working class of a ship. And it appealed to me." Elijah answered quietly. "Granted, the Majestic was a fine ship, but it wasn't the right fit for me."

“Yeah, it’s all about finding the one that fits you,” David said with a small nod. “For me, that’s always been the Gladiator. I’ve commanded a Defiant, an Intrepid, even one of the new Odyssey-class ships, but nothing feels quite right like a Sovereign. She might be a couple decades older than the latest models, but she fits me.”

He glanced over with a faint, knowing smile. “I’ve got no doubt the Orcrist will do the same for you.”

An answering nod, and smile, Elijah, looking back towards where Hayter and Kosugi were talking.

"Then there is the search for an XO that fits. How is yours doing? I've got a new one to break in."

Hawkins’ smile edged into something a little wry at Elijah’s question. “Raiden? He’s sharp. Got instincts you can’t teach, and he doesn’t let me get away with half the crap I try to pull, which, if you ask Starfleet Command, is exactly what I need.”

He folded his arms loosely, leaning back a little as his gaze drifted across the room. “Finding that fit in an XO’s a lot like finding the right ship. When it works, you know it right away. When it doesn’t… well, let’s just say you feel every damn bump along the way.”

His eyes came back to Elijah, the knowing look returning. “Here’s hoping your new one keeps you on your toes. But if you really want to cause a twist. You could make Hayter your XO and see how that goes.”

“I’m going to see how my new one will work, especially since in just a matter of days after he had signed onto the Majestic, he got word of us being called back to Earth, and getting changed to another ship, just after he and his kids were having dinner with me and my family.”

Elijah gave a wry laugh at the memory.

“It looked like I had taken the wind out of Craig’s, my XO, sails, with that news. Couldn’t be helped though. When an admiral gives an order-”

Elijah gave a slight shrug, then looked back towards where Hayter and Kosugi were talking, though it looked like that conversation was starting to wane.

Raiden once more took the bottle from Hayter, taking a small amount.

“As I asked just moments ago, is there a message you want to leave for Tia? Or… is that more of a private matter for you, and I’ll butt out of that.”

He handed the bottle back to Hayter, then looked at the amber liquid inside the glass. then back to Hayter.

Hayter smirked faintly, taking the bottle back. “If I had a message for Tia, I wouldn’t be passing it through an XO. I’ll tell her myself… when I’m good and ready. Probably after I sober up.”

He tipped the bottle slightly in Raiden’s direction. “But I appreciate the concern.”

"You know, that sounds like a good plan. talk to her when sober." Raiden looked at the bottle that Hayter held.

"You know, I've got another bottle that's waiting to be consumed, if you're willing to help. And, we'll leave the two captains, to do more conversing, if they let us escape. " Raiden cracking an impish grin. "its a bit stifling right now."

“Don’t have to twist my arm,” John said, already stepping out in front like the escape had been his idea all along. As they passed, he shot the pair of captains a lopsided grin. “Alrighty, el’ Captain… Captains. Three of a kind’s too much at one table, so this captain’s cashing out early. You two can scheme about my future without me—there’s a bottle yelling our names, and we are not about to be rude and ignore it.”

Raiden gave out a laugh, clapping his hand on John's shoulder giving a slight wave towards Captain Hawkins and Captain Rutherford, with his free hand.

Elijah turned to regard both John and Raiden, as the two men made their escape, a chuckle escaping from his lips.

"I think your XO is going to be sporting a major hangover, tomorrow." Looking back at Hawkins. "Acting like they don't have any cares in the world. Then again, probably a good thing for those two to-say their farewells. Though, I am thinking that they weren't buddies were they."

Hawkins smirked, watching the two make their getaway. “Nah… ‘buddies’ would be stretching it. Hayter never really had the chance to figure Raiden out. Guess that’s what a bottle’s for liquid diplomacy.” He gave a small shrug. “Who knows… maybe by the end of the night they’ll either be friends, or one of them will be sleeping on the floor. Care to wager a bet?”

"Liquid diplomacy I like that term, and sure, I'll take the wager. The prize will be?"

Elijah paused, looking towards Hawkins, waiting his answer.

David looked at the captain and smirked slightly as he took a sip of his drink. "More like the loser has to deal with Hayter?"

"Wait a minute" Elijah giving out a laugh. "I don't think it will be a bad thing, having him onboard. I'm not going to say its going to be easy for anyone of us. But the journey I feel is going to be worth it."

"Uh huh," David nodded, although he just smirked even more as he led the other captain. "Let's go get that drink. Trust me, you are going to need this."

Elijah shook his head, giving out a slight chuckle "You've known him longer than I have so- A drink sounds good to me. Lead the way."

Elijah knew that Hayter was hurting and there were going to be some lashing out in some form or other. That though is just a bridge to cross over.

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