Joint Log | FAdm. Malone & Gen. Sharpe | "There's always something else..."

Posted on 241411.02 @ 9:50pm by Fleet Admiral Kerry Malone & General Richard Sharpe
Edited on on 241411.13 @ 3:10am

Mission: The Fight For Peace [GQ Plot]

=/\= Starfleet Headquarters =/\=

It felt extremely weird to be dressed in a Starfleet uniform again, walking on Starfleet Campus, receiving salutes from passing personnel. Sharpe, wearing the marine green variant of the Admiral uniform, walked through the tattered remains of the grounds. The gardeners, not Starfleet personnel, looked at him with anger and hatred in their eyes - since he was the one who blew great big holes in their perfectly arranged gardens.

To be fair, that was actually the one thing Sharpe did regret - damaging the gardens of Starfleet Campus, but it could not be helped, and it was war. Now that was over, and he was walking to Starfleet at the behest of Malone. His intention was to formalize the deal that had been struck with the CinC following the rescue of Kassi Denterius. He'd been informed that once the war was over - he would be instructed to retire. He'd come here to do just that, and expected that was what Malone wanted.

At sixty years of age, Sharpe was hardly young, but he wasn't exactly old by modern standards either. Sulu had stayed in deep space until he was one hundred and fifteen. But he'd served his time, risen to the highest rank in the marine corps, and was ready to settle down and raise his daughter. He had more decorations than he knew what to do with, and was content that he'd survived forty years of harsh service.

The inside of Starfleet Tower was still being repaired, but it was clearly returning to some semblance of normality, as aides and staffers hustled and bustled about the building. In this building, a flag ranked officer strolling through the front doors was hardly a notable event, so he was ignored. He ended up physically grabbing a passing Ensign, and asked to know where Malone was holed up. The aide somewhat reluctantly escorted Sharpe up to the fifth floor, where Malone had his temporary office.

Strolling into the office without ceremony or invite, Sharpe came in and sat down in one of the chairs in front of Malone's desk. "Decorating your other office, are they?" He asked.

"Hardly." Malone sighed, wondering why he put up with this petulant marine. There weren't many people who could just waltz into a Fleet Admiral's office and make themselves at home, but it appeared that Sharpe considered himself one of those people. Well, you could win a war, but you couldn't win every battle, Malone conceded. He was tired, and couldn't be fussed with fighting with Sharpe over manners. "I've been relieved as Commander-in-Chief, so that office isn't mine anymore. I'm borrowing this one until I head out to my new assignment."

"Oh? And where do they assign former Commander-in-Chiefs these days?" Sharpe chuckled. "They got you repainting the fleet you dinged up?"

"Just as they've got you replanting the lawns you blew up?" Malone retorted. "Believe me, if the Head Gardener had his way, you would be."

"I can well believe it." Sharpe mused. "But to be fair, it wasn't me who drove tracked tanks over the lawns."

"No, you did that at Sandringham instead. You should be appreciative that the new President is a Vulcan, and can't get pissed off. The place is a shambles. It's going to take months to clear that mess up." Malone replied.

"The price of doing business, Malone." Sharpe responded. "It was a battle, not a stroll through the trees."

"Quite." Malone smiled. "And both the Triad war and the Civil war are over." He'd finally twigged why Sharpe was being so curt - he thought he was out of the service.

"Yes, they are." Sharpe smiled. "And in accordance with your disciplinary action, I am here to present myself for retirement from Starfleet."

"Yes... about that..." Malone replied carefully. "It seems that won't be happening."

"Excuse me?" Sharpe asked, his voice having dropped all joviality.

"Well, when that order was given, we hadn't suffered the defeat at Sol, or the Civil war. Frankly, we're a bit short of senior officers, so all retirements are being postponed due to the exigencies of the service." Malone explained. "You're also a war hero, like as not, and the Federation people would prefer you stay in your uniform. They feel safer knowing that you're out there keeping the enemy from the doors."

"Funny, eleven months ago, they were ready to court-martial me in disgrace for shooting that annoying doctor." Sharpe scowled.

"Well, the people are a fickle entity, but you're popular now, and Starfleet wants to keep its popular people - to help boost its fragile image." Malone continued. "I would have preferred to let you retire, but alas, you're needed."

"Like hell I'm needed." Sharpe snapped. "The SFMC only lost five flag officers, and they were lower grade officers than myself, and they can be replaced from the senior line officers. What exactly does Starfleet need with a four star General?"

"Well, they're putting you in command of the 3rd Marine Expeditionary Force heading out to the Gamma Quadrant." Malone smiled.

"An MEF... in the Gamma Quadrant... you're kidding right?" Sharpe asked, incredulously. "For starters, an MEF is a 3 star billet, not a 4 star. Secondly, the Gamma Quadrant?!"

"Yes, the Gamma Quadrant. You'll be working for me, since I'm taking over Quadrant Command out there." Malone explained.

"Oh, so that's where they send their war heroes is it? As far away from Earth as they physically can?" Sharpe snapped angrily. "This is bulls*** Malone! I'm demanding my retirement!"

Malone rose from his chair, leaned over his desk, resting on his hands. "That is enough, General." He said, with cold fury in his tone. "You're a member of Starfleet, and that's the end of it. Report to Camp MacArthur, where you will supervise the embarkation of the 3rd MEF, ready to deploy to the Gamma Quadrant in three weeks. You can bring that asshat Towers and his MEU with you."

"Yes...Sir." Sharpe growled. "What about Denterius?"

"She's coming with me, if she'll take the Chief of Staff billet." Malone replied, standing straight. "I'll need your help handling her."

"Pfft. I just need a bottle of scotch and a night off, and she'll be completely tame." Sharpe smirked.

"I do not wish to know, Sharpe." Malone cringed.

"Well, since you've screwed me yet again, I guess I'd better go do my.... job." Richard replied, forcing himself not to swear at the Fleet Admiral.

"Happy to oblige, General Sharpe." Malone sighed, and watched as Sharpe threw him a salute and left. Great, just great. Now he was going to have to deal with Sharpe's wrath the entire time they were out there.

=/\= End Log =/\=

Fleet Admiral Kerry Malone
Gamma Quadrant Commander
CO, 5th Fleet

General Richard Sharpe
CO, 1st Marine Expeditionary Force
Gamma Quadrant Command