Isn't It Grand

"Lieutenant Ordalani is correct in quoting the regulations to Mister Vega; however, this whole situation has the potential to blow up in our faces if we don't treat the press a little more gingerly."

April fought the urge to grab him and throttle him for failing to see the big picture; didn't he understand?

"Mister Simmons, if I must explain myself to you, then I'll tell you this: This situation has the potential to blow up in our faces anyway.  I'd rather tolerate bad press personally than the bad press Starfleet gets if this mission screws up.  The press is to cover the mission itself, not this crew, not our deeds bad and good; they'll do it as time allows and play by the same rules we do.  This ship's not a playground and Vega's type of journalism is sensationalism."  April rubbed his forehead; how the hell did that jerk get onto this one?  An embedded reporter.  Embedded, like a bug in a rug.  He didn't like reporters and liked sensationalism even less.

"Perhaps we should open a press center; there are ten other media outlets on board who may start to take the same tactic as Vega if we don't start telling them something."

April was past tired of it at that point.  He waved a hand.  "Excellent idea, Simmons.  Take care of it."

Simmons balked.  "Me, Captain?"

"You suggested it.  Just be careful what you tell them.  You're representing Starfleet and you're part of this crew."

Simmons' lips parted then closed again.  "I see.  Captain, I am also concerned that if we don't establish some sort of press-relations, individuals like Senator Campbell will start to use the media for their agendas.  Doctor Muniz may start to do the same thing.  Remember that these are civilians, civilians who are not accustomed to rules and regulations governing their lives.  Campbell is retired military but he is a politician.  I would suspect that his presence aboard the ship is more than just to observe.  The elections for the presidency are in six months.  It is possible that he could use this mission to grandstand."

April groaned.  "Lovely."  He turned to go.  "Posturing is your field, Simmons.  Handle it."  He didn't care; they could flaunt all they wanted if it didn't interfere with the mission.

On his way out of the briefing room, he passed Vega on the bridge.

"Very little is actually said about that."  Vega spoke to his camera, microphone clipped to his collar, apparently already online to his media base.  "In fact one that was rumored to be killed actually escorted me out of the conference room.  Eve Ordalani is definitely alive and well."

April stopped out of sight of the camera, waited until he finished, stepped forward and ripped the microphone off, pushing the camera down.

"This is off the record mister, and if you try to report it, I won't know what you're talking about.  Let's get one thing straight, you little weasel.  My crew is off-limits.  That includes Eve Ordalani.  Kapeesh?"  Vega's eyes widened as if April was about to assault him, though he never actually touched him, until he pulled his hand up and shoved the microphone into his palm.  "Behave.  Try to act respectful and maybe at mission's end I'll grant you an exclusive one-on-one.  Deal?"