Call Me Chief

Posted on Thu Jun 14th, 2018 @ 6:23pm by Lieutenant Mona Gonadie & Commander Mal Xustos & Commander Rita Paris

Mission: Curing the Black Blood
Location: USS Hera, Deck 1, the Bridge

Stepping out of Captain Telvan's ready room, the gold minidress-clad Rita Paris considered organizing a staff meeting to gather up the helm- the flight control department, she corrected internally- and formally introduce herself. While that was a good idea, the Commander was holding the bridge, and from the look of the colorful ensign at the helm, Paris suspected she knew just who her assistant chief and guide to all things 'no ma'am, it works differently now' was in the flight control department. Catching the commander's eye, Paris flickered her eyebrows upward in a silent question then nodded in the direction of the Miradonian, silently asking permission to interfere with her subordinate on the first officer's watch.

Protocol never hurt, but casually circumventing the chain of command usually did.

Mal nodded to Rita to indicate she should go ahead. He'd talk to her about wearing a proper uniform when she was done talking to Gonadie. If she wanted to wear a skirt, there was a version of the current uniform that had one.

With a nod, Paris took the assent and strode over to the colorfully-plumed helmsman. While not every culture embraced it, in Starfleet a handshake amongst humanoids was generally accepted as a friendly standardized greeting. Thus, stepping into the pilot's field of vision, the nubile navigator offered her hand to the ensign.

"We've not met... I'm Lieutenant Paris, the new transfer. I'd like to meet with you when you come off duty to discuss working together. Might you have some time, Ensign Gonadie?" Paris smiled a winning smile and radiated confident cheer.

Looking up at the woman before her, the brightly colored Miradonian blinked a few times before replying. "Yes! I remember hearing about you!" She then shook Rita's hand enthusiastically and stood up. "I'm close to the end of my shift so there's not long to wait. I've been told I won't have to manage the department anymore and... I'm sorry, I know it's not very Starfleet of me, but I really just want to fly. Managing a department of a drosk of pilots isn't my idea of career goals." The universal translator seemed to have a few issues with a few of her terms, but it did its best. Ensign Gonadie was definitely from one of the more exotic races of the Federation. "My shift ends in about twenty minutes. If you want, we can go through the helm control here on the bridge."

"Ensign Gonadie, that sounds like a marvelous idea," Lieutenant Paris grinned. "No time like the present. Pardon my hover, but let's explore the helm together, you and I."

Over the course of the next few minutes, the two pilots from different eras came together over the one commonality that hadn't changed in 127 years. Pilots still loved to fly, show off, brag to one another and above all, fly. It was a drive in humanity since he beheld the bird, and it had taken them to the stars and beyond. Always there would be those daredevils, those precision flyers, those maniacs at the stick who would push the envelope and redefine what was possible.

As Gonadie went through the Hera's helm control layout, she couldn't help but beam with pride a bit. "The whole panel can be switched to either haptics or light holography if you want, as well, thanks to Intel Command. Also, I helped design this new interface layout just for the Hera during the last refit. I even talked them into adding in something special... Computer, remain on autopilot but activate manual controls in testing mode."

With a chirrup, the computer complied, activating a holographic nav array across the helm, sliding the seat back a few inches, and from the console pillars, a throttle and joystick control pair were moved into place, with holographic control rings forming around them. "This... This is how we fly on my home world. All your engine speed controls are controlled on the left and your attitude controls on the right. You can even control the starboard and port external inertial dampeners separately to do a controlled power slide around spatial anomalies." Grinning at Rita like the... Parrot... that ate the canary... Gonadie couldn't help but see what Rita's reaction would be.

"Ohhh, Ensign Gonadie, you and I are going to get along JUST fine," Paris' eyes lit up and she practically beamed as she took in the setup. "You turned the stately button-pushing flyer into an actual fighter who can do a whole lot more than go through the motions. We're going to have a few long discussions about flight theory and tactics, you and I, because it looks like you most definitely 'get it', Ensign." Paris was dying to try it out, but the Bridge during a duty shift wasn't the time nor place. But this definitely wasn't an option she'd found in her flight sims, and it reminded her that their was no substitute for the live element when it came to instruction.

"If this flies like it looks, I'll keep up with the duty rosters and managing a department of pilots so you can focus on refining... this," Paris reached out and lovingly stroked the console, eyes still dancing with the twinkling holographic lights orbiting the thruster and joystick.

"That would be splendid, Ma'am," Gonadie replied, beaming as her hands rested on the manual flight controls. "Before the refit, I was able to talk the Captain into letting me develop the prototype in a shuttlecraft." Glancing over her shoulder at the XO, she lowered her voice. "Maybe we can talk her into going for a little flight the next time we stop for a bit so you can get some hands on experience with them." With a conspiratorial double lidded wink, the brightly plumed woman smiled knowingly. "Computer deactivate manual flight mode." With a chirrup, the computer complied, returning the helm control to its 'stock' configuration.

"Sim flying is fine but.... yes. We are definitely taking some practical flight time, Ms. Gonadie," Paris murmured out of the corner of her mouth as she watched the controls- which she quite strongly felt were going to become her standard flight configuration- retreat onto the boring flatscreen panels.

"So, it looks like I have some report reading to do, and some duty rosters to make out. Why don't you meet me in my office on deck..." Paris paused to look over her shoulder at the XO and hold up 3 fingers questioningly. That's where it used to be on a ship much smaller, and she hadn't researched it as she'd been mildly surprised to be promoted to chief a few minutes ago.

Gonadie chuckled softly. "The flight controller offices are right off the main hanger deck upper level. I'll have to vacate the office anyway..." Gonadie paused as her relief walked up and she logged out of the helm station so her replacement could log in. "Commander Xustos, with your leave, it seems my shift is over. Permission to vacate the bridge and escort Lieutenant Paris to her new offices?"

"Vacate away," Mal replied. "And Lieutenant Paris, the next time I see you on duty, you will be wearing the current uniform. If you're more comfortable in a skirt, there is an option for that. However I advise, with the expectation that you will take said advice, that you wear pants on most away missions and field work. You're doing great updating your professional skills. Keep up the good work. You're in excellent hands with Ensign Gonadie. Dismissed, both of you."

As the executive officer spoke, Paris smiled, waiting to reply. But with the order to dismiss at the end of the statement, it would be a breach of military etiquette to continue the conversation or offer a reply. Instead, Paris just offered a brief close-lipped smile and a nod of acknowledgment as she led Ensign Gonadie off the bridge.

"I was doing this in a skirt before your grandaddy was wearing pants, sir," she muttered as the turbolift doors closed.

Gonadie chuckled softly as the turbolift started moving. "I don't think any of his people ever wore pants..." was her whispered reply.