Learning To Fly

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

Mission: Curing the Black Blood
Location: USS Hera, Deck 4, Chief Helmsman's Office
Timeline: 2395

"Miss Gonadie, the future is incredible."

Taking in the view of the shuttle bay from the windows of her office overlooking it, Rita Paris had to admit to herself that while she may have left her life, her love and everyone she knew behind, that view might just be worth it. The runabout was even better looking from the outside, the shuttlecraft were still pretty impressive, the hangar itself was three times the size of the old holographic theater and everything in the future was bigger, better and had nicer effects and lighting.

Turning back to regard the colorfully-plumed Miradonian officer, Paris noticed her packing up some of her belongings from the office. "Belay that, Ensign. This office is more than big enough for the both of us."

"You've made some extensive changes to the helm controls, and you and I are going to be working closely on that. I like what I've seen and your devotion to flight control is impressive. You are my assistant chief- just because the Captain promoted me doesn't mean you are completely scot-free. That means it's my job to teach you how to do my job, and for you to help me do mine. So given that I used to hold staff meetings in rooms smaller than this, we'll just be getting you your own shelves and workspace and sharing the office."

Gonadie shrugged. "I could just as easily use the Assistant Chief office, but if you'd prefer I stay here, I can do that too." Mona set her things back down on the desk for now and joined Rita at the observation window. "The main hangar deck spans over half the saucer section and is big enough to house fifteen hundred people in an emergency, if need be. There'd be no room for the shuttles or runabouts, and we'd best get to a starbase fast... but we could evacuate almost any other ship in Starfleet."

The stadium that served as the hangar bay would put a starbase of her day to shame, which meant that the view out her office window was quite spectacular. It was a far cry from the conference room with one small viewscreen Captain Stuart had let her use as second officer. "Yes, Ensign, I think I'd rather have you close when I need you. The assistant gets an office too? It's like they have too much room on these ships and they just don't know what to do with it all." Paris shook her head in amazement.

Pointing towards two of the runabouts, Gonadie continued. "Those are our best two runabouts. The closer one is Selune, which is kitted out for stealth missions and the other is the Captain's favorite, Thor. Frigga and Bast are in the maintenance bays below decks and Danu, our Delta class runabout, is over there." Pointing out the angular ship, the Miradonian couldn't help but grin a little. "I heard that some human named Tom Paris helped design her while marooned in the delta quadrant."

"My grand nephew, apparently." As she spoke, Rita tapped at the PaDD that was seldom far from her hand. "Quite the flyer I hear- nice to know that still runs in the family too. Holy mother of mud, he's older than I am. And married, and he has teenagers... okay, enough of that." Paris looked up from the tablet and shook her head to clear her mind, refocusing on the question at hand.

"So what's the design variance with the Delta class?" One thing Paris was good for was honesty, and admitting that she didn't know something was becoming second nature to her. "I've messed about with the standard runabouts to pilot them well enough, but I'm, curious what improvements has Mr. Paris installed?" Those questing fingers returned to the surface in her hand to seek technical specs as her assistant chief explained.

Gonalie grabbed a PaDD as well and pulled up the specs on their delta class shuttle. "Well, the original was so far ahead of Starfleet runabout design at the time. They used a lot of tech they picked up out there in deep space. Flight controls are manual only. Sensor suite is ripped straight from the Borg. Flight stabilizers are from some other race they ran into. That little ship seriously pushed our designs ahead by like twenty years. The mass production version is toned down a bit to account for the use of Federation only tech, but not by much."

"Warp-streamlined tetraburnium alloy hull, retractable warp nacelles, parametallic hull plating, unimatrix shielding, and a Borg-inspired weapon system, including photonic missiles. I literally do not know what any of that meant, so it looks like I have more homework ahead of me," Paris laughed musically.

Just then one of the maintenance lifts slowly lifted one of the speedboat shuttles up out of the hanger deck floor and a tractor towed it over to a berth by the Thor and Selune. "And the shuttle that just came out of maintenance was our flight control prototype, a type nine shuttle. In the academy, they pack a dozen of us in there for a week for deep space survival training. There are only two seats and the replicator only makes rations and water. They can do warp nine though."

"So basically what I used to drive." Paris muttered, though not under her breath as she so often did. "Except for the warp nine part, of course. This is incredible.... I don't have the context to understand most of these systems yet, but I don't have to be able to build it to fly it. Absolutely fascinating..." The leggy lieutenant pored over the specs for a few more seconds before setting the PaDD down on her desk.

"All right, Ensign Mona Gonadie- you said you'd heard about me, so I'm guessing that means you might have some questions for me, and I have one or two for you. If we're going to work together, then we need to understand one another well as people, as well as officers. So, you love to fly, and it shows. But who are you, how did you get here, why Starfleet, why the Hera?"

Mona shrugged nonchalantly. "The Captain and I were at the Academy together for one, so when it came time to choose the person she trusted to fly her ship, I guess she wanted the only person that could fly better than her. She's a class seven pilot. I'm one of the few that have a class eight pilot license. As for why Starfleet itself... It's the easiest way to get a class nine pilot's license. Finish the control system I showed you and get it pushed to consumer use and I'll have it. I've met all other requirements."

The brightly plumed Miradonian chuckled a bit before nodding to the busty human. "What about you then? I plan on going home to my people a hero, but what about your hopes and dreams? I know history paints you one way, but who are you today?"

"I still haven't looked up Rita Paris in history, so I'm sure I don't know how that all worked out. Today..." Rita's voice drifted off, and when she spoke again, her voice was quiet and subdued. "I was second officer, likely going to be first when the promoted Stuart. I served under the smartest, most capable man in the fleet... the last kolinahr, exploring the galaxy and human experience. I was going t be the first lady captain of a constitution-class starship someday. I had it all and then..."

A small, sad smile moved onto Paris' face. "But that was then, and now... now I'm struggling to find the questions to ask what I don't know in a world that left me behind a hundred years ago. Everyone I knew is dead, and I have some relatives who are and aren't mine out there, to whom I've been dead for a very long time and I'm not even an afterthought. But I'm still a helmsman, a 'flight control officer', and they can't take that from me. So if I've got nothing, I'll start there. I can still fly, I'm a damned fine pilot if I can figure out the systems, and that's what I'll do. My job and my career were always my life anyway... I'll just miss sharing them with the best man I've ever known."

There were a few seconds of silence, then Paris chuckled. "Sorry, Ensign. Forgive an old lady her maudlin sentimentality, but let me know how it is when you reach my age, huh?" The nubile navigator laughed a bit at that, though it wasn't genuine.

Gonadie could only nod solemnly at that thought. "I will, though you may not be around to hear about it. There are a few aboard older than you. Long lived races. Mine can be, though it's rare. I don't think I have the plumage for it, and honesty, I'd rather be immortalized by my deeds than my living for a thousand years like my great great great great... great... so very great... grand aunt."

"Ah... guess that joke doesn't work if you really live that long," Paris sighed, then changed the subject. Dwelling in the past was a literal dead end, because it was inaccessible to her. For now she had things to do. "So since this is flight control, do we have simulators that can be worked on here for testing purposes... you and the captain both mentioned piloting levels. If the old lady's got to adapt to the local technology, then I need to get time in on the sims. And I can't train anyone until I'm familiar with the systems myself. Or is there a flight control simulator that has its own office?"

"Oh yes, we have our own dedicated holodeck with command certification monitoring built in. Any time you want to recertify or attempt to boost your certification, or practice, you may. It's just off of our offices right before the hanger deck control center. It has every known ship programmed into it, including that of the Borg. If you want a real challenge though, you could pilot one of my people's aerowings." Gonadie was grinning that mischievous grin of hers again. "Your assets might not fit too comfortably though."

“Hah!” Paris laughed. “Not unlike EVA suit training. Never held my breath so long in my life,” the curvaceous cosmonaut joked. “For now I’ll settle for being competent with the Hera, and maybe I'll take some lessons on the variety offered once I can do the job I’m assigned here. I’ll be expected to know how to fly anything, so I will- I just have to prioritize. Nobody will respect or take orders from an officer who can’t even do the job themselves. So... any questions for me, Ensign? Anything you’d like to know about me or my perspectives or leadership style? Clearly I prefer open and frank communication. If there is a problem, tell me. If I am skipping protocol, let me know. My pride can’t get much more wounded by what else I don’t know, so just get it out there and say it and I’ll deal with it. Fair?”

"When I have questions, I will always ask them. You will be certain of that, Chief." Mona replied with a nod. "As for your leadership style, I've served under humans before and found the arrangement preferable. Is it safe to assume that you trust your guts more than your brains as they did?"

"Bwahahahahaha!" the comely chief laughed long and hard. "Yes, Miss Gonadie. You may rest assured that is exactly how I operate. And understanding that I think that you and I are going to get along just fine." Rising from her perch on the edge of the desk, Paris gestured to the door. "So now what do you say we head next door, you can take me on a tour of that sweet flight interface you created and we can see if the rusty old antique is still a quantifiable pilot in the 24th century?"

"That sounds like a wonderful idea," replied Mona, smiling brightly as she headed towards the door. "Should we start you with the training wheels or without?"

"Training wheels?" Rita snorted derisively. "What am I, new?"

Mona couldn't help but snicker.