Heart/Jail Break

Posted on Sat Sep 13th, 2025 @ 4:05am by Lieutenant JG Kally Kellerman & Ensign Henry Taylor & Senior Chief Petty Officer Jadizon Enor

Mission: Lower Decks
Location: Sickbay
Timeline: After Launch

Jadizon’s boots echoed like thunder across the deck as he paced the length of Sickbay’s waiting room, arms folded tight, the fury in him rolling off in waves. What felt like hours had passed since he’d carried Kally in under a shimmer of transporter light, but the storm hadn’t eased—if anything, it had only sharpened, every step a reminder of how helpless he was forced to be.

His Betazoid blood carried emotions like plasma through a conduit, raw and volatile, and now it threatened to burn through his skin. His jaw was locked, teeth grinding, the black of his eyes swallowing nearly all trace of iris—a telltale Betazoid sign when anger ran too hot. He hadn’t gotten the full story yet, just fragments: bruised lungs, broken ribs, blood soaking her uniform. And Henry Taylor sitting in his brig instead of on the shuttle he’d been hell-bent to board.

Every empathic thread in him was ablaze—rage at not knowing, fear for Kally behind those surgical doors, hatred for the chaos that had left her broken in his arms. The waiting room felt too small, the air too thin, as though even the ship itself couldn’t contain the fury pulsing through him.

Those doors ahead of him weren’t just partitions of duranium and polymer; they were bulkheads holding back a warzone. Every instinct in him screamed to break through, to see her, to do something. But all he could do was pace, shoulders squared, breath sharp through his nose, the fury of a Betazoid barely chained behind the mask of the Chief of the Boat.

The doors hissed open, and a young brig enlisted men —barely out of his first cruise, by the look of him—stepped in, padd clutched in nervous hands. He cleared his throat. “Chief Enor, sir… just checking in about Ensign Taylor. He’s secured in the brig. Protocol requires I—”

Jadizon spun on him so fast the kid nearly dropped the padd. The black of his Betazoid eyes burned hot, his voice low and dangerous.

“Protocol requires you keep him behind that forcefield until I say otherwise. Protocol requires you don’t breathe a word of him to me while I’m standing here waiting to find out if she survives. You want a report? Here’s your report: he’s alive. He’s breathing. That’s more than she had when I carried her in here. Now get the hell back to your post before I decide you can share a cell with him.”

The crewmen’s face drained of color. He stammered a quick “Aye, Chief!” and all but fled back through the doors, leaving the waiting room in silence but for the hum of Sickbay and Jadizon’s steady, furious pacing.

Doctor Kilgallen came around the partition from the surgical ward and saw Jadizon pacing. "She's all right," he said, not mincing words, as he rarely did. "The healed ribs held, and her lungs are feeling better. She's breathing well. She just needs rest. Twenty-four hours and she'll be fine. We're moving her to a biobed to recover. We wanted to put her in a recovery room, but she insisted on being in Sickbay to 'supervise.' He gave Jadizon a look and rolled his eyes a bit. "She'll be out shortly."

Jadizon stopped dead mid-pace, shoulders stiffening as if the doctor’s words had slammed him to a halt. He turned slowly, the black burn of his eyes easing just enough to show relief flicker through the fury.

He exhaled hard through his nose, running a hand over his face. “Damn stubborn woman,” he muttered, the edge of a smirk tugging at his mouth. “Only Kally would take a beating like that and still try to run Sickbay from the biobed.”

His gaze locked back on Kilgallen, tone dropping into something rough but genuine. “Thanks, Doc. I mean it.”

He straightened, squaring his shoulders. “Bring her in I guess.”

A moment later, an orderly came out of the ward with an antigrav gurney, Kally lying on it, wearing a sheet to give her some modesty she hardly needed. He slowed by Doctor Kilgallen and Kally looked up at Jadizon, giving him a small smile and taking his hand. "Thanks for the assist," she said.

Jadizon caught her hand as the gurney passed by, following along and passing his thumb back and forth across her knuckles. His eyes stayed locked on hers, the mix of relief and fury plain in his face.

“What the hell is going on, Kally?” he said, voice low but sharp. “You’ve got some explaining to do.”

Kally cried a bit. "It's...it's my fault," she said. "Tessa came to see me. She was so upset over leaving Henry. She had told him she wanted him on the planet, but she'd changed her mind and needed me to stop him. I knew she hated the arrangement, and I wanted her to confront her feelings, so I tried to provoke a response and she...well she was very upset and she lashed out." She allowed the orderly to help her transfer to a biobed and as she sat back, she looked at Jadizon, worried. "Oh, wait, Henry. Jadizon, none of this is his fault, please don't keep him locked up."

“You know what gets me, Kally?” he said, voice firm but not raised. “We’re Starfleet officers. All of us. Misfits or not, this uniform still means something. And too often it feels like some of you forget that. The way things spiral, the lack of decorum—hell, half the time it’s like nobody remembers there’s a line we’re supposed to hold.”

He jabbed a finger toward the floor, toward the ship beneath their feet. “This may be the Chimera, not some Academy parade ground, but Starfleet is still Starfleet. Maybe that’s a conversation I need to have with Captain Skyie herself.”

His black eyes locked on hers, softer now but still cutting. “Henry stays in the brig for the night, he needs a timeout. You want to defend him? Fine. But don’t expect me to excuse what’s starting to look like a pattern. Not here. Not under my watch.”

"I understand you are upset, and I understand why," she said. "Just...please understand that he didn't do anything wrong," Kally said. "He's a young man who just had his soul torn in half. He shouldn't be in the brig...I should be."

Jadizon’s eyes narrowed, the tension in his jaw working as he listened. He drew in a sharp breath, then shook his head.

“No,” he said flatly. “You’re not taking the fall for this. Not with me. Not ever.”

He stepped back toward the door, giving both of them one last look, the edge in his voice still hard but steadier now. “Call for your sister to come back. I’m going to have a talk with Ensign Henry. We’ll finish this discussion later.”

He paused, letting the weight of his words linger. “But hear me, Kally—you and I aren’t done.”

Kally felt her blood chill and stared at him, eyes wide. She simply nodded and didn't say anything.

Jadizon strode out of Sickbay, the doors hissing shut behind him. His pace was steady, deliberate, every step echoing the storm still simmering inside.

When he reached the Brig, he nodded once at the enlistedmen on duty who were sharp, wordless acknowledgment of their watch. Their spines straightened in response, hands instinctively clasping behind their backs.

Without breaking stride, Jadizon crossed the deck and stopped square in front of the holding cell. He stood there, tall and immovable, arms folding across his chest as his black eyes fixed on Ensign Henry.

The silence stretched, thick and unyielding. Then, in a gravelly tone that carried the weight of command, he finally spoke.

“…Ensign.”

Henry was sitting on the floor where he'd been dumped, not looking up. He didn't respond, just stared despondently at the deck.

Jadizon slammed a hand against the brig’s frame, the sound cracking through the space like a gunshot. “Henry!” his voice roared, sharp and raw. “When I’m talking to you, you don’t sit there like some broken doll. You get off your ass!” He took a step closer, leaning into the words, his tone low but burning with fury.

“You hear me, Ensign? I don’t give a damn how bad you’re hurting you don’t curl up on the floor and tune out the world when I’m standing here. You get on your feet, look me in the eye, and act like you’ve still got a spine.”

His glare hardened, the silence after as heavy as his words. “Now move.”

Henry gripped the bunk and hauled himself to his feet. He made a half-hearted effort to smooth his dress uniform and looked up at Jadizon with red-rimmed eyes. "Sir," he croaked.

Jadizon paced in front of the cell, each step echoing against the bulkheads, his voice cutting sharp through the air.

“You will address me as Senior Chief or Chief. Not ‘sir.’ I work for a living.”

Henry frowned slightly at the insult, but didn't have it in him to say anything.

He stopped for a beat, glaring into the cell, then started pacing again, slower this time, voice tightening with each word. “Whatever you’ve got going on—your feelings, your baggage, your drama... you handle it on your time. Not mine. And by my time, I mean Starfleet’s time. "You let that mess bleed into this crew again, and you’ll find out fast how thin my patience runs when I have your ass back in this holding cell until we hit the nearest starbase and off this ship.”

He turned on his heel, eyes hard. “I am the Captain’s left hand. My responsibility is to enforce standards, advise the Captain, and look after the welfare, discipline, and performance of the enlisted and advise on the officers. I don’t answer to Ensigns, Lieutenants… hell, I don’t even technically answer to the XO. So when I say I can do it, I can do it.”

His tone dropped, low and gravelly. “I hope you remember that next time you think your personal storm is more important than this crew. Go see the Ship's counselor if it's that damn bad..... Do you get me?”

Henry nodded, his voice flat. "Aye, Chief," he said. "It won't happen again. You have my word." Of course, the cause of the whole kerfuffle was now gone, but that didn't matter. He'd spent his life following the rules, and the one time he put a toe out of line...well, far more than a toe as it wound up being. He knew the Senior Chief was right, and even if he thought he could argue the point, he didn't have the energy anymore. He looked at Jadizon with resignation. "I'm sorry you were put in an awkward position, Chief," he said, quietly. "I don't know how much weight an apology carries for you, but it's sincere."

Jadizon stood there for a long moment, watching Henry’s shoulders slump, the fight gone out of him. His voice came quieter this time, not sharp but steady.

“Look… I don’t doubt you mean it. Maybe you just got caught up in something bigger than you could handle. Happens to more people than you think.” He gave a small shake of his head. “But you put me in a spot, and worse—you put yourself there. Don’t do it again.”

Henry nodded, offering no rebuttal.

He stepped back from the cell, eyes lingering just long enough to make sure the words landed. Then he turned toward the guard at the duty station. “Petty Officer Darvis, cut him loose.”

The brig forcefield dropped with a faint hum, and Jadizon glanced back at Henry. “You’re confined to quarters until your next duty shift. No detours, no excuses. Get some rest, get your head on straight.”

Without waiting for an answer, the Chief made his departure, leaving the weight of his words to hang in the air.

Henry stepped out of the cell, lifting his feet with effort as if they were anvils. He shuffled out of the room and into the corridor, heading for his quarters as told, following the rules once again.

Jadizon knew this was now his time to head to see Kally and Katie and get some understanding of what was now going on.