Part I: Loose Ends from Shore Leave
Posted on 01 Feb 2026 @ 6:40pm by Captain Sabrina Corbin & Commander Suzanna Batenburg & Lieutenant Commander Elias Harlan
1,609 words; about a 8 minute read
Mission:
Lathira Shoreleave
Location: XO's Office
Suzanna was going through the usual reports in her office, they were still in orbit of Lathira, and shore leave had not completely finished yet. Some rotations were going. The Captain was due back later today, and she had sent a note to Harlan to come by her office at the earliest convenience. Knowing that he had been on the surface all night, she didn't want to wake him for this, but she needed to figure out what exactly had happened on the surface, and what he had said or done with the Ensigns. He only had jurisdiction over the engineers, but there were also junior bridge officers involved.
Elias made his way through the ship from Engineering, PADD in hand, boots quiet against the deck plating. He was halfway there before he realized he’d left his travel mug sitting on the desk back on deck 16—still half-full, probably cooling to room temperature. He rolled his eyes at himself, a small, tired huff escaping under his breath. He could live without it for a few minutes. Probably.
The disciplinary plan was already saved in the system, pending review. No doubt that would be on the table today. But the tactical logs kept nagging at the back of his mind like a low-level plasma leak he couldn’t quite seal. How the hell had untested weapons systems slipped through yard acceptance? Checked off on paper but never powered up? Someone had signed the book without walking the deck, and now it was his problem. His responsibility. He’d have to pull the array apart tomorrow—cold boot, full diagnostic, live-fire if they could get range clearance. No shortcuts. No assumptions.
He shook it off as he reached the right compartment. The nameplate read: Commander Suzanna Batenburg – Executive Officer.
Elias paused for half a second, straightened his uniform tunic out of habit, and pressed the chime.
“Enter.”
The door slid open. He stepped inside, took three measured paces forward, and came to attention—respectful, not rigid. Shoulders square, eyes level, hands loose at his sides.
“Commander Batenburg,” he said, voice steady and low, “Lieutenant Commander Elias Harlan reporting as ordered.”
He held the posture just long enough to be proper, then relaxed fractionally—still at ease, still attentive, but not statue-stiff. The PADD remained in his hand, ready if needed.
He waited. No rush. No nerves. Just the quiet certainty of a man who’d walked into too many XO offices to be fazed by one more.
"Commander, please take a seat," Suzanna replied and gestured to one of the chairs across her desk. "Welcome on board first of all." She paused a moment, "and you were thrown in the deep end straight away, from what I have seen and read you know how to swim." She leant back in her chair, "What happened? And who were involved?"
Corbin had been back aboard the Arawyn only briefly. With work already pulling at her attention and a desire to reconnect, she made her way to her XO’s office, aware there would likely be questions about the measures put in place during her time planetside.
She hesitated when the office display indicated a visitor was present. After a moment, Sabrina tapped her commbadge instead. “I see you have company,” she said evenly. “I wanted to check in when you had a moment.”
"Captain," Suzanna stood, "please come in." She thought for a moment, she would have to explain to the Captain what happened anyway, so she might as well hear it from the 'horse's mouth'. "There was a situation during shore leave with a several junior Officers, Commander Harlan was about to explain what happened."
Corbin let herself into the office, a faint smirk touching her expression as she greeted them both. “It’s good to meet you in person, Commander. It seems we already have an interesting shore leave story.”
Elias had given pause for a moment as he collected his thoughts and stayed silent through the exchange over the comm channel. When Captain Corbin entered the room he stood a little straighter and gave her the respectful nod her rank entitled her.
“Captain Corbin,” he greeted quickly, voice low and even. When Commander Batenburg gave him the nod to continue, he launched into his response.
“This may partially be my fault. Allow me to explain the full context.”
He kept his hands loose at his sides, PADD still in one, posture relaxed but attentive—shoulders square, eyes level, the way a man speaks when he’s already accepted the blame and is just waiting for the paperwork.
“I beamed aboard yesterday at 1450 hours with the rest of the transfer party. I received the welcome information, then proceeded directly to main engineering. When I arrived, the entire department was engaged in what looked like productive work… except it wasn’t. They were running redundant diagnostics, wiping already-clean panels, looking busy for the new chief. I’ve seen it before. I told them to take at least sixteen hours of shore leave while it was available, then went to my quarters to settle in.”
He paused, the memory of the comm chime cutting through his sleep still sharp.
“I was woken by the bridge at zero thirty hours. Gamma shift watch officer reported that a group of eight to ten Starfleet officers—a mix of engineering juniors and bridge ensigns—had been taken into custody by local constabulary on charges of public intoxication and vandalism to public infrastructure. Short version: the party had been on a beach mag-lift. They decided the inertia dampening system was ‘wobbly.’ One of them tried an unsanctioned fix. It triggered a chain-reaction overload across the resort’s beachfront power grid—lights out, replicators dead, hover-carts crashed. No injuries, but it was a mess.”
Elias shifted his weight slightly, the only sign of fatigue.
“I wasn’t entirely sure why the bridge contacted me first—I hadn’t formally checked in for duty—but as the senior officer on board, I felt it was my responsibility to beam down and see what I could do to contain it before it turned into a diplomatic incident.”
He met Corbin’s eyes directly, then Batenburg’s.
“I negotiated with the duty lieutenant planetside. They were ready to press charges—public intoxication, tampering with infrastructure, the works. I offered a deal: no formal charges, no record, in exchange for full restitution. I called for two damage-control teams from the ship—senior engineers, sober, qualified—and authorized replication of replacement parts. We spent the next six and a half hours rebuilding the affected substations, reinforcing buffers, and leaving the grid in better shape than we found it. The resort’s power came back online just before dawn. The constabulary released our people into my custody.”
He exhaled once, short and controlled.
“I confined the involved officers to quarters for eight hours as part of the verbal plea agreement—mainly to placate the locals and give them time to sober up. I’ve drawn up a disciplinary plan for those under my purview; it should be sitting in your inboxes. Extra duty rotations, supervised diagnostics, weekly reviews. No busywork. Real accountability. Commander Batenburg will handle any formal NJP for the bridge ensigns, but my engineers will fall under my chain.”
He paused again, letting the facts settle.
“I take responsibility for the department. They’re mine. If the punishment needs adjustment, I’ll accept it. But I’d like to make one thing clear: they’re young, they made a dumb call, but they’re not malicious. They’ll learn. And they’ll be better officers for it.”
Elias stood a little straighter, the PADD still at his side.
“That’s the full context, ma’am. Questions?”
Corbin listened without interrupting, her expression unreadable as the account unfolded. When it finished, she exhaled softly and let out a brief, surprised laugh, more rueful than amused.
“So,” she said, glancing briefly toward the viewport as the pieces finally aligned, “a handful of drunk ensigns are the reason I spent the night wondering why the power grid hiccupped and sleep refused to cooperate.”
Her gaze returned to Harlan, thoughtful now rather than sharp. “They are hardly the first, and they will not be the last, to push shore leave too far.” A pause. “I appreciate how you handled it, Commander. You contained the damage, protected our relationship with the colony, and held your people accountable without escalating the situation.”
She inclined her head slightly. “That tells me a great deal.”
Corbin inclined her head slightly toward Batenburg. “For the bridge officers involved, I’ll defer to your judgment.”
Her attention returned to Harlan. “As for Engineering, I’m satisfied with how you handled it. Unless there are objections, your plan stands.”
She paused, tone calm but firm. “Keep it proportional. Keep it instructional. I don’t see a need to make this more than it already is.”
"I will Captain, and agreed, it was well handled. I was informed and supported from the bridge when Commander Harlan beamed down." Suzanna replied, "I will follow the example that the Commander put in his report for the engineers, it appears logical. And Welcome on board, Commander."
Elias gave a small nod of acknowledgment as Batenburg wrapped up, then held up the PADD he’d carried in—thumb resting lightly on the edge, like he was weighing how much bad news to drop at once.
“Thank you, Commander. Captain.”
TBC in Part II...
Captain Sabrina June Corbin
Commanding Officer
USS Arawyn
Commander Suzanna Batenburg
Executive Officer
USS Arawyn
Lieutenant Commander Elias Harlan
Chief Engineering Officer
USS Arawyn
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