Assignment of an Antique

Posted on Thu Jun 14th, 2018 @ 6:22pm by Captain Enalia Telvan & Commander Rita Paris

Mission: Curing the Black Blood
Location: Captain's Ready Room
Timeline: 2395

Enalia finally got off the comms with Starfleet Command. She'd spoken with Admiral Paris, the Office of Temporal Investigations, Starfleet Sciences Command, Intel Command, and even a specialist at Jupiter Station that studied cross dimensional travel. She now had everything she needed to make decisions and recommendations. Leaning back in her chair, she relaxed for a moment before making the call. "Rita Paris, please report to the Captain's ready room at your earliest convenience." She said earliest convenience, but in truth, she hoped Rita would be here sooner than later. She had dinner with her wife scheduled soon.

The comms sounded and the call came through loud and clear- time to get called on the carpet. The replicator had done a fine job, and even though she had modified the cosmetic design, the internals were still the same as any modern comm badge. So instead of whipping out her communicator to snap it open, Rita tapped her gold-clad chest, the shiny new Starfleet emblem that looked like her old one registering her response. "I'm on my way."

After all, it wasn't like she was busy. Rita had alternated spending time in the holodeck working on flight sims that were interesting to her if a bit laughable- she literally spent half her time disengaging the automatic controls so that she could actually pilot the ship when in the sims. But she felt like she'd gotten it down, and she'd feel reasonably confident in the pilot's seat of whatever might be asked of her. The rest of her time had been spent studying a hundred and twenty-seven years of history.

A history in which she and her shipmates had made no contribution, and it didn't mean that her life held no meaning. But somewhere out there they had. Stuck here and now just meant that she had a chance to make a difference here and now, and Rita Paris was determined to do just that.

Hustling out of the stadium that was her quarters, Paris double-timed it to the turbolift. Still wearing her archaic gold long-sleeved minidress uniform- which might just be why the Captain wanted to see her- Rita still drew a few looks and curious glances about the ship. Someone had called her 'admiral' on the same day someone had questioningly referred to her as 'ensign', as apparently knowing archaic rank structures wasn't something they drilled into cadets at the Academy any longer. Not that she would likely be great at recognizing NX era rank either, she suspected, so she just smiled and corrected them.

Stepping out on the bridge was still a marvel to her. It was so quiet- she was accustomed to so much background noise from the sensors that the silent austerity of the spacious bridge was still jarring to Rita, even after so much time spent in the simulators. The captain's ready room was located port of the main bridge, beside the forward-port turbolift, so it was a quick turn and she was there. Paris thumbed the door chime to let the Captain know she'd arrived.

Enalia leaned forward and rested her clasped hands on her desk. She was as ready as she'd ever be for this meeting. "Enter," she called, allowing the not only temporally, but dimensionally displaced traveler into her office.

"Lieutenant Commander Rita Paris reporting as ordered, ma'am," Paris stepped into the ready room- which was still half the size of the Exeter's bridge- then snapped to attention. At this point she wasn't certain how much Captain Telvan stood on ceremony, but a summons for a private audience with the captain tended to be very good or very bad, and whichever one it was, Rita figured some proper Starfleet military etiquette couldn't hurt.

Waving one hand, Enalia still couldn't help but act embarrassed when people went full formal like that with her. "Don't bother doing that unless you're here under guard. Please, have a seat. Can I offer you a drink? The replicator can create any..." As soon as her ready room doors finished closing, she offered some non replicated beverages. "I have some Betazoid hot cocoa mix, some Denobulan bottled tea, and some of my family's hand crafted beer that isn't replicated, if you like."

Taking the cue to be at ease, Paris gestured to the chair and took the silent cue to take a seat. "Well, seeing as I'm off duty and hand-crafted beer sounds interesting, I think I'll take you up on that offer, ma'am ."Scissoring her legs together to cross them smoothly, Paris lit up that million watt smile of hers that made you daydream and wonder if she could have been an actress. "So what can your resident lost navigator do for you today, Captain?"

Popping open the mini fridge under her desk, Enalia pulled out a couple of the Artan family beers and cracked the caps off of them, handing one over to Rita. "I just spent the last several hours talking with more admirals than I care to name, most of them in regards to you. Follow up analysis shows that you're not from our universe. While we have experience with members of other universes, the fact that you come from one has complicated the decision of what to do with you somewhat. I'm sure you've figured that out by now though, seeing as our history hasn't unfolded the same as yours."

Taking a sip of her beer, Enalia pressed the subject. "Using our experimental transport system, we were able to determine what universe you came from and when you came from and get a fix on the timespace coordinates inside the universe where you originated from. Unfortunately, to send you back would not only violate some imagined directives command seems to want to throw at me, but we don't have the particles or power to do it. Hell, the system was barely able to lock on to the coordinates in the first place."

As the conversation progressed, Paris perked up at the mention that her home dimension and chronal coordinates had been identified, but she didn't manage to completely keep the disappointment off her face as the 'unfortunately' came into play, and by the end of the statement, she looked resigned. "Well, yes ma'am, I know this isn't my reality, and I wasn't planning to hide it from you. I already told Lieutenant sh'Zoarhi, and I assumed it would make its way to you if I didn't beat it here. As I told her, you can't get much more lost than this."

"So my question is, what now, Captain? Am I a guest until we get back to Starfleet Command or a starbase? Am I under arrest? Does Starfleet Command want to study me? Am I to be debriefed and interrogated?" Paris took a long draught of the beer, savoring the flavor. "That is a good beer..."

"No, as far as most everyone is concerned, you're still a member of Starfleet. I've been able to talk Command into transferring your rank with one exception over since your counterpart in this universe was lost in an almost identical manner." Reaching into one of the drawers of her desk, Enalia pulled out a tiny black box and slid it over to Rita. "Welcome back to Starfleet. You've been granted the rank of Lieutenant but at my discretion, I can promote you back up to Lieutenant Commander at any time I see fit. I'm also assigning you as Chief Flight Control Officer of the USS Hera. That means you'll not only be flying my ship, but you'll be the go to pilot for any away missions. Ensign Gonadie will be your Assistant Chief. She's a Miradonian and has an innate talent for flight since her people are evolved from some form of tropical bird. If you need any help with the department or the new flight controls, she's your woman."

"Yes ma'am," Paris replied before she chuckled, then she laughed genuinely and heartily for a good ten seconds. "I get to pick up where this Rita left off, eh? Sonak said there's a certain symmetry to the universe, and like always, he was right." Paris picked up the box off the captain's desk, opened it and eyed the two gold pips inside. "I figured out what happened to her, you know. I worked it out."

"The Office of Temporal Investigations had a theory on that as well. I'd like to hear yours and see how far off theirs is." Enalia took a long draught off her beer and leaned back to listen to what was bound to be a rather depressing tale.

"This Rita Paris, from this dimension, had the same accident I did. But Ensign Wells wasn't assigned to the Constitution, so he never figured out from Dr. Lang's notes and scans what had happened to her. So she rode the Constitution and haunted her from 2260 until 2280. I'm pretty sure that when they pulled the dilithium- ah, no, the warp core, when they pulled it out they'd remove the crystals, salvage them then install them in another warp drive with a different signature. That's when she finally got to die... after twenty years alone in that living hell, when that warp field failed, she finally got to dissipate." Paris stopped and took a few gulps off the beer.

"That's pretty close to what they estimated..." Enalia mumbled, staring into her bottle. "The Constitution flew through an ionic disturbance in the same region of space we picked you up in though, in the year 2266. Due to the frequent ion storms in the area Starfleet now avoids the area. That ion storm could have scrambled her right out of the ship's warp field and sent her who knows where. Maybe even to another universe, just like you."

"Cheery, right? And that's assuming she didn't get picked up by another passing warp field. That's an even worse thought, that she might still be out there." Paris finished off the beer and set the empty bottle next to her chair. Turning her attention to the pips in her hand, Rita Paris turned those baby blues on her commanding officer.

"I've a request, Captain, with your permission?"

Finishing her own beer, Enalia set the bottle aside and nodded. "Of course."

"Starfleet fought wars and faced horrors, and it got a lot darker and grimmer. I understand that. But we used to wear these bright colors intentionally, because we wanted people to be able to find us. Because we were the helpers, the good guys who swooped in and saved the day. Be it because you were under attack by Klingons or your colony was out of supplies or the geological study station was suffering a disaster, Starfleet was there. We fought wars and faced horrors and suffered losses, but we didn't become what we fought, Captain Telvan." Rita leaned in as she spoke, her enthusiasm and idealism swelling as she continued. "We didn't lose our idealism. We went exploring the galaxy in brightly colored uniforms because we wanted the citizens of the galaxy to see us, so they could find out we came in peace."

Eyeing the captain's uniform, Paris waved a finger in Enalia's direction.

"It's just so dark, Cap'n... I can't. I'll fly the Hera true for you, and do tricks with her you won't believe. Thex gives me engines, I'll get you anywhere you want to be and back again. Hell, I've limped some sublight out of photon torpedo shockwaves when I'm really out of options. I'll do my nav on the fly and prove my math later if you like. I'll fly her round the Outer Nebula and 'round Antares Maelstrom and 'round perdition's flames on your command. But I ask my one indulgence." Rita paused to attach the two magnetic gold pips to the black angular collar of her archaic uniform.

"I worked hard for this gold uniform, ma'am. I earned it working my rear off in Starfleet Academy, then in the fleet. I don't mind the 'show me you're worth it and you can have your rank back'- that's fair, and frankly I respect you for that one, Captain. But this is my uniform, and if you don't mind, I'd like to keep wearing it. I realize it's sexist and embarrassing in the modern day, but back then it stood for something. Something I think maybe Starfleet needs a little more of- hope." Rita was laying it on thick and channeling her inner Captain Stuart, but she was earnest. As corny as it sounded, she honestly did believe she was right.

Enalia stared at her a moment before bursting out laughing. Wiping a tear away, she shook her head. "Is that it? Oh goodness, you're definitely a Starfleet officer." Standing and moving away from her desk, Enalia called an order. "Computer, activate full spectrum lighting." With a confirmation chirp, the lighting in the office switched to almost uncomfortable levels, but the effect it had on the Captain's uniform was instant and insane. the black turned irridescent white, the grey was a shimmering purple, and even the red was more of a pink. She looked more like she belonged in a rave. "Remember how I said the uniform was redesigned for species with a wider range of vision than humans? This uniform means something too, you know. Possibly more because we have a hundred more years of history behind it. As for when black started moving into the uniforms, that was around the time the Klingon moon of Praxis was destroyed, I believe. Right after or during your generation."

"As for your uniform, I can't approve it as it is without some sort of protective covering on the legs." Sitting back down, Enalia shook her head a bit more. "Computer, return lighting to normal." With another chirp, the computer complied. "Welcome to Starfleet Intel. Now, would you prefer to modify your current uniform to include leggings, wear one of these, or wear the white and blue flight suit your department is allowed?"

"No offense intended- I didn't mean to imply your uniforms didn't stand for something as well, ma'am. Just to my plain human eyes..." Paris redirected the conversation. "Leggings is a compromise I can live with Captain... and thank you. I'll take a look at that flight suit, and I see you still offer a 'scant' skirted version of the uniforms, so let me get used to the idea, and... well, I'll keep you posted. Praxis was a few decades after my time, ah... 25 years, 2293 I think. I'm crash coursing history along with a few other subjects. I'll catch up."

"I recommend using the temporal observatory program for any speed learning on history. The ship-wide holo-emitters can display it in your quarters whenever you want." Enalia leaned forward on her desk and took on a slightly more serious tone. "I'd like to ask a favor as well. even with our dangerous missions, we have a few families aboard and enough children to warrant a classroom. Could you speak with them? I know there are some differences in your history and ours, but your experiences are what's important, I think."

That request caught the pretty pilot completely off guard, and she sat back in her chair a bit. "The ship has holo emitters? Wait, teach classes? To kids? I mean, sure, of course, but... what do you want me to teach them, Captain?"

"Just tell them about your experiences. most of the time, that's more than enough. The teacher can give you any specifics, if you need them." Enalia smiled her lopsided grin. "At least that's what I do, anyway."

A smile slowly grew on the pretty face of the throwback. "Teach kids what it was like back in the pioneer days of Starfleet, about the great discoveries and captains and the new life and new civilizations we found by boldly going where no man had gone before. Yes ma'am, I think I'd rather like that." Paris rose from her seat to offer her hand to the captain, then hesitated.

"You deserve to know the truth, ma'am. I'll never betray my oath nor the ship, but if I ever get the chance to get back home... well, I hope you understand," Paris offered her hand. It was a stupid thing to say to the woman, and it served no strategic purpose save to be honest with her, but Rita was damned if she wouldn't be honest with her captain.

"Thank you." Standing and returning the handshake, Enalia had one last thing. "In the spirit of full disclosure, there's one last thing though. The thing that I think tipped the scales for keeping you aboard, especially with Admiral Paris. Our Operations Chief is an artificial life form that was created by a Federation Starship called the USS Katana from another universe. One where Romulus was destroyed, as I understand it. You might want to speak with her. One of her mothers is my wife's counterpart from that universe."

That left Rita's jaw hanging open for a moment, then she laughed musically. "Leave it to Starfleet. If you're an orphan of another universe, you might just end up with another castaway shipwrecked in the same place. Yes ma'am, I'll be sure to look her up." Smiling, Paris shook her head a bit. "I have to say, it was a relief to discover that my rotten brother at least raised a decent son."

"As weird as it may sound, Admiral Paris may enjoy a call from you. As for his son, he may enjoy a shuttle race against you. If you do race him, be warned. He won an interplanetary race in the delta quadrant that made his Klingon wife queasy." Grinning like the cat that ate the canary, Enalia just dropped that little Easter egg for Rita. She'd have to find out for herself the circumstances of the crew of the USS Voyager.

"I'll... do that. Nephews and grand nephews that aren't mine, but because time and dimension travel... heh." Rita Paris shook her head, then combed her short blonde hair out of her eyes. She was due for a trim soon of the haircut her father said 'makes you look like a dyke', which had only inspired her to cut it shorter. "I guess The Commander was right to back Albert after all- he did make sure the Paris legacy persisted and continued in Starfleet, and I most assuredly did not. A great nephew with a Klingon wife, eh? Guess I should look him up too. Show him that the Paris women are better pilots than the men any day..."

There it was- that competitive streak that drove her on and made her strive to be the best. Borne of a father who couldn't be impressed but honed by officers who could see her potential, it had made Rita Paris an overachiever for the ages. Now in this far-flung future in another dimension, it would be her salvation.

"Excellent way of looking at it for now. Good luck with your new department. The tools may be new, but management hasn't changed much in hundreds of years, so have fun. If you have nothing else for me, you're dismissed." Enalia smiled and sat back down.

"Just... thanks, Captain. The Hera saved my life when her warp bubble sucked me in, then you saved my life when you reconstituted me, and now you saved my career from being a curiosity at Starfleet Academy teaching courses on ancient technologies instead of flying starships. That's one I owe the ship and two I owe you- I'll have to get to work on repaying all three. Thanks for taking a chance on me, Captain Telvan." With a saucy smile and a jaunty wink, the leggy lieutenant offered a chipper two-fingered salute, pivoted then sashayed out the door with more wiggle than a Sulamid in an earthquake.

Enalia couldn't help but tilt her head a bit and watch Rita walk out of her ready room. Her new Chief Flight Controller was built almost exactly like her wife, but taller. She wasn't sure if she found that hot or... No, she was a married woman now and there was no way she was going to talk either of them into a three way. Best to just brush those thoughts out of her head now. Clicking her desk computer back on, she tried to get the thoughts out of her head, instead focusing on TPS reports from their last mission. That usually worked better than a cold shower...