Hera Now

Posted on Fri Sep 14th, 2018 @ 12:31am by Captain Enalia Telvan & Commander Rita Paris

Mission: Holographic Horrors
Location: USS Hera, Deck 1, the Bridge
Timeline: 2395, in drydock at Artan Fortress, Kabul system

"Sooooooo..." Paris snuck up on the captain as she was trying to leave the bridge. "I've got an idea how to use the last day of shore leave to give my flight crew some experience."

"Experience?" Enalia asked, eyeing Rita as she headed across the bridge towards the turbolift, motioning for the buxom pilot to enter first. As they got in, she set their destination. "Deck ten lounge."

"Nobody takes shuttles. Beaming is so much more efficient and easier. Bringing your gear? Have it beamed in. Shuttlecraft are becoming a thing of the past, except for long distance hauls. They've become space bus drivers. But we're in a civilized system, where people want to throw money at convenience. And you can't beam from one world to the next. So, let's advertise our service, chew up bandwidth and airtime on everything because we can, because shy of the fortress we have a pretty commanding comm setup."

Stepping off the lift, it deposited them down the hall from the entryway to Ten Forward, the traditional starship lounge.

"We'll advertise an intersystem shuttle service, call it 'Hera Now'. Blast the airwaves about it- I have an idea for an ad campaign- and let the repetition take hold. Our pilots will get flight time, they will have interesting experiences and they will be accompanied by a security officer, whose priorities will be the pilot then the craft. Passengers if they are not hostile. Anyway," Paris waved her hand idly. "The calls for the service will come through ops, they'll send the signal to helm, who will plot a course, which science will then scan for hazards and the bundle goes back to ops who transmits it all to the shuttlecraft, and off they go. Helm will also be an air traffic controller in all of this, supplementing system traffic control."

"It's not practice in a war zone, heck, it's not thoroughly dignified. But it is time behind the stick for your pilots, and that will mean a lot to them, I think. Meanwhile I'll pull the plug and see how my old countdown to liftoff goes in the far-flung future of the twenty-fourth century. Buck Rogers got nothin' on me," Rita Paris grinned at her surprisingly cool life as she settled on a barstool.

"That's not a bad sales pitch, but it invades on the already established services, doesn't it? Plus I can't authorize the use of Starfleet hardware for something like that. We'd have to use the shuttles on the fortress for it." Looking up at the roof of the lounge as she sat down as well, Enalia thought about it for a bit. "If you could arrange for our pilots to do it on their time... Using Artan shuttles... And volunteer privateers as security... Schwein might be able to help with that..."

"Wit all due respect, captain?" Rita waited for the signal of indulgence, then launched into her counter. "If we aren't taking pay for it, Starfleet doesn't object because we are not misusing Starfleet property. We aren't impinging that much on the existing services. It's for 24 hours- we may be a fiscal impact for a day, but we're not wiping them out. And we need our pilots to be able to pilot our craft, ma'am. It is an official exercise, thus why we are using official resources. We're scrambling our pilots for maneuvers. This is like a practice evacuation, but coordinated by the civilians for us. No randomizers needed and Starfleet might just like the idea. Call it the 'Civilian Scramble'."

The first officer held up her hands. "Or Artan shuttles, off duty pilots and privateers. On your orders, Captain. Tonic water on the rocks with a twist of line," Paris rolled smoothly into her drink order.

The spotted woman took a deep sigh before ordering a drink. "I'll have a glass of my special." As the barkeep poured their orders, Enalia thought about it a bit more. "Cutting into the profits of the existing systems is only part of it. Existing traffic control won't be happy. Neither will the other families. Of the eighteen families that control this system, mine isn't the most powerful..."

"So there is a much larger political game to consider. Did not know that," Paris sipped at her virgin cocktail, stirring the slender straw as she considered. "Likely they would view it not only as a disruption, but Starfleet and you flexing military muscle in system as a show of force, which would be very open to interpretation. So, okay, point made ma'am. Looks like I'll be filing that request for maneuvers with Starfleet on a moon somewhere. Not as much fun, but still counts as flight time and doesn't start trouble where there currently is none."

Enalia nodded as she took a swig of the amber liquid in her glass. "Which is why I recommended using the Artan shuttles. Most are decommissioned Starfleet junkers we gathered over the past hundred years. As for clients, if you don't mind having them run ore and maintenance crews for a day, I'm sure Captain Magnus wouldn't mind. No way to step on people's toes but they get to dodge asteroids with... Ahem... Real world damage to shuttles similar enough to ones we use now."

The friendly first officer raised her tumbler. "An elegant solution, ma'am. Thanks for walking me through it. I'll coordinate with the baroness and scramble the rest as discussed, save for the advertising campaign. And if they can learn to pilot rustbuckets, they will be great with modern shuttles. Ore and maintenance crews it is, volunteers only. No need for security but privateer ride-alongs if you like."

"They'll need someone to tell them where to go and who they're meeting. Baroness will make sure everyone you send them with is trustworthy as well so there's no mishaps." Enalia raised her glass as well before taking a long draw off of it.

"Thanks for the indulgence, Captain. It'll mean a lot to the flight crews, and I'll check with Thex, then if she's game inform the engineers if they want to come play as well. Never hurts to have a mechanic along for the ride." Paris took a drink, then eyed the captain. "This is how you work? Nice easy, simple, watch for the hazards to steer through them, but keep moving forward?" It was phrased not as a statement or judgment, but as a question.

"Isn't that how most people deal with things? Focus on the solution, rather than the problem?" Eyeing Rita, Enalia sipped at her drink a bit more.

That earned her a surprised take, followed by a shake of the short-haired blonde's head. "Surely you've served under other commanders, ma'am? Other superiors? You didn't walk out of the Academy a Captain, even if your service record is sealed. Common sense isn't always so common, particularly where ego gets involved, in my experience. Not everyone is focused on the solution so much as being right. This," Rita raised a her glass again, "is a welcome change of pace."

Enalia chuckled softly. "I took command of the Hera as a Lieutenant Commander right after her first refit. Before that, I ran ferry missions for command. In a way, I've never not been captain of my own ship. As for being right... I've made mistakes before. The solution to a problem sometimes isn't the right thing to do. When that happens, you'll see how I deal with it."

“I already have seen how you deal with such things, ma’am, and if ever I don’t approve, you’ll hear about it. Respectfully,” Paris added as a reassurance. “I’ve served under commanders good and bad. Captain Stuart always tried to rush everything and he’d spring things on me constantly- made me crazy but it did keep me on my toes. But I’ve had plenty who just took an instant dislike to me, be it how I fill out the uniform, my name, my looks, one couldn’t stand my height, a few just decided I had a bad attitude, which basically guarantees it… the list goes on. My favorites are the ones I spend my time asking probing questions, and they never realize they come across as just arrogant blowhards with no interest in anything beyond themselves.”

"I have great interest in the abilities and lives of my crew. If they have great abilities, they stay alive and I keep my crew." Finishing her drink off, Enalia looked over at Rita. "I mean, there's a lot more to it than that... But that's what it boils down to. Crew is family and sending them off to their deaths if they're not capable isn't the best feeling. You have to keep your crew safe, you know?"

“Yes ma’am, I do,” Paris agreed. “No one signed on with Starfleet to die in the line of duty. I’ve escaped death plenty of times and cheated it with a fate worse than death a time or two, but every life entrusted to us is precious. I’ll do my best to make sure you don’t have to write any of those ‘regret to inform you’ letters, captain.” For a change, the cheerful chrononaut was actually somber as she made her vow.

"Thank you," Enalia tapped her glass for a refill and spoke as the barkeep obliged. "I've written far too many of those things. So many, I have it on a template that's auto-populated. This command takes a toll on you but we've saved a lot more lives than we can imagine. This may sound bad, but the Federation has a lot of enemies out to destroy it and without section thirty one out doing the evil things they did to prevent them from destroying it, we have to walk the line between light and dark to do their old job. Without falling to darkness, we lose some people..." Taking her now full glass, the somber captain downed it all in one go.

“Sometimes to do a good thing you have to do a bad thing,” Paris quoted simplistically. “I know my old-school Starfleet optimism might not always be what you need, ma’am, but since we will probably be in murky waters from time to time, I’m your navigator and your pilot. I’ll do my best to steer you right and remind you to look up at the stars sometime, and I will be that voice that appeals to your better nature. That’s part of my job too. I won’t ever try to tell you what you have to do, but I will sometimes remind you of the right thing to do… when you need it.” Taking a chance, the golden gal placed her hand on the captain’s shoulder.

“I owe you far too much to let you falter, Captain Telvan,” the pretty pilot postulated. “I’ll watch your back, speak up when I need to and I’ll be here to listen when you need someone to hear you.” Patting the captain’s shoulder, the throwback officer removed her hand lest rumors start around the ship of just how the antique officer had been promoted to First Officer through sexual favors- a rumor Paris was all too familiar with from every command she’d ever served and every promotion she’d ever earned.

"I think in this case, you're exactly what I need in a first officer. The butter to my jam, as it were." Grinning, Enalia set her glass aside and turned to Rita. "I just hope you'll let me go on a few safe away missions now and then."

The confused cosmonaut from a very different era wrinkled her brows together in confusion. "What do you mean, 'let you', ma'am? You're the Captain- if you say you're going, I go with you unless it's my orders to hold the ship. That's how starships run... isn't that the way Starfleet does it here in the future?"

"It's also your job to remind me that my place is on the bridge, and since I've almost died twice from bacteria carried by biting insects..." Enalia pointed to Rita at this juncture. "The first time right after the joining with my symbiont while on Earth by a... moss-quit-oh or something that sounds like a southern Trill food platter..."

Eyes narrowed, Paris leaned in to eye the captain. "This is a trick, right? I'm supposed to remind you to stay on the bridge? How can you assess the situation and explore the planet from the bridge with what, the sensors? Is that... that's how we do it, now? Just... stay on the ship...?"

"Do I look Vulcan to you? Are my ears pointed? Is my blood green? Am I leaping through logic all nimbly-bimbly?" Enalia grinned wider. "No. As first officer, you'll be leading all away missions that don't require my personal attention. I recommend you get fitted for a suit of armor and train on our primary weapons while you're at it."

The sudden paradigm shift threw Paris off. "Wait, armor?!? What happened to 'we come in peace'? Oh... ohhhhhh..." Realization settled in as the throwback Terran started putting it together. "We're a Starfleet Intel vessel. We don't do first contact. We go after dangerous things in dangerous places, and lots of the time, it's dangerous. So I go in to do the recon or secure the objective while you monitor from orbit lending intel and support... oh." Paris blinked a few times, then sought the eyes of the captain.

"Something like that?"

"Exactly. On top of that, our next mission will likely involve literal mythological creatures again." Enalia probably shouldn't have said that in public, but the crew would find out soon enough anyway. They might as well start the rumor mill now.

"My first impulse is the open hand, not one clenching a phaser, Captain. I'll fight if I have to, but I'm a runner by nature." The old-fashioned idealist explained. "I'm no indestructible Valkyrie, ma'am, and I really have a lot to live for. I'll take the risks and pursue the mission, but I'm not a Marine. I'd rather make peace than war. So you understand my position, and I have to ask if you're okay with that?"

Enalia replied simply. "Then be a leader. Pilot the shuttle and lead the team. Let them do the fighting if and when it comes to that."

"Not at all what I meant, ma'am. I wouldn't respect a leader who led from the rear, and that wasn't how I was taught to lead." Paris shifted in her seat, clearly a bit uncomfortable. "I'm just saying that violence is always a possibility, but I prefer trying to find peaceable solutions when they are possible. And I am trying to convey that to you so that if it'll be a problem you can tell me now. I'm starting to get the impression you are trying to tell me we are going to war, ma'am... is that the case?"

Enalia shook her head. "No, we do our best to prevent wars. We also destroy labs and facilities that shouldn't exist. On top of that, we're oftentimes sent in after diplomacy and other teams have failed. It's a nice sentiment, being able to come in peace, but we're usually the ones to clean up the remains of the ones that got eaten coming in peace. Our tactics usually entail hostile negotiations once we're sure the other side isn't interested in talking. However, we have had our share of non-violent missions. The mission to see Danu... The away team had to go through a series of traumatizing trials... Ah, the mission to ... No that ended in a fight with a minotaur and a bunch of Amazons and Harpies... Ah, the mission to... No... We were ambushed by pirates... Shit..."

Concern furrowed the brow of the first officer as she digested all of this. Working for Starfleet Intelligence wasn't the same as working for Starfleet- especially the version of Starfleet she was accustomed to. They were the dangerous people who went places that no one ever heard of and did things no one would ever hear about. They moved in the shadows.

Looking out of the Deck 10 viewport Paris could still see the saucer section if she tried, and the ship was, to her eye, very, very black. The uniforms were black. This was the starship that had drawn her in and saved her life- one which lived in the shadows.

Now she dwelt in the shadows too- an impossible girl who shouldn't be here, shouldn't be alive and shouldn't have a stoic Vulcan scientist by her side. Yet in defiance of all reality, here she was. Turning her gaze to the captain, Rita Paris considered. Compassion had its place, but she had still run her phaser out of charge on Deneva fighting the neural parasites infesting the planet. She'd shot Klingons who were shooting at her, and not always on heavy stun. She's disrupted a Romulan while they wrestled for his disruptor. By her hand the Exeter had blown vessels out of space- hell, it had been her plan that had destroyed the USS Revenge with all hands aboard.

No stranger to violence, Rita was no saint.

That didn't mean she had to be bloodthirsty, but these would be dangerous missions. Captain Telvan was convincing her to arm and armor up because she would be stepping over those poor Starfleet personnel who came in peace, or who had fared poorly against whatever phenomenon they had encountered. The future, thus far, had squared her off against her possessed shipmates and the starship's computer itself, and that was just her first mission. It was, it seemed, a more dangerous age- and she now traveled aboard a starship who went dangerous places.

Grudgingly, Paris nodded. "I'll still try peace ma'am. But I suppose I see your point- if when peace fails they send us in, peace has a pretty low chance of being the answer. But I have to try... although I suppose I can try from behind the visorplate of something a bit more sturdy than a miniskirt."

The spotted captain nodded somberly, having watched the realization sink in on the lost navigator's face. "If it's any consolation, peace has been very effective in the Federation. There are almost two hundred member civilizations on the Federation Council, almost eight thousand affiliate member planets, and we've made contact with over sixteen thousand sentient species. The fact that there are only a handful of Intel ships and only one like ours means that diplomacy does work. There just has to be someone willing to live in the shadows, hence why we get to have vacation at our own private resort rather than the normal facilities."

A wry chagrin settled over the face of the Starfleet officer of a much more innocent time. "Well, I've cheated death so very many times now, I suppose this latest new life of mine was bound to have a cost. I'll have to find a way to balance my ideals with the situations into which we find ourselves thrust." Paris idly poked at the ice cubes of her mostly empty virgin cocktail with the slender straw.

"That reminds me- your permission, I'm putting Thex in for the Bronze Star. I've never met a braver officer who was willing to damn near get herself killed for a shipmate. Well, other than..." The retro throwback officer chuckled slightly, cocking her head and nodding for a second. "Anyway, she deserves it, and I plan to submit it to you for review and recommendation. And commendations for those two security officers as well, though they're both transferred off."

"I just put her in for the Cross of Valor for the same thing. Might as well put both in and see which one gets kicked back." Enalia was always up for more awards for the crew, especially for things they could actually mention in the official records.

"Great minds," Rita held up her glass in a cheer. "This is going to be one hell of an adventure, isn't it?"

"One we may never be able to tell, not that anyone would believe us," Enalia replied, lifting her glass as well.

It took work and self control to time her request until the captain was in the middle of taking a drink, but Paris worked for her comedy. "By the way... would you be willing to officiate my wedding before we cast off?"

As Enalia's glass was still empty from earlier, there was really no comedic effect. Enalia was also somewhat expecting this, but nowhere near this early. Setting the glass aside, she nodded solemnly, and pulled Rita into a tight hug. "Our little girl is all grown up! We can have it in the family cathedral! Maica can walk you down the aisle! We can even give you an Artan family flyby!"

Surprised by the hug, Rita still gladly went along with it. Again, this wasn't going to help that nepotism case. Her reputation on this boat was guaranteed to be very interesting. "Why am I not surprised that you already have event planning- ah. Not the first time this has happened, Check."

"Thanks ma'am," Rita Paris pulled back from the hug and shrugged, a dopey grin on her face. "I would very much appreciate all of that, and theoretically he is finding me a nice little touristy beach with terrible food and seafood shacks and souvenir shops and a hotel with an ocean view, sunrise or sunset side I don't care. I'm going to take advantage of 48 hours of the shore leave you so generously offered."

Seeing the expression on her commanding officer's face, Paris made a twitchy squinched up face at her captain. "I took like an entire 24 hour liberty with Thex! I left the ship!"

"Did you now? Have you ever heard of the term 'mandatory fun'?" Enalia would get her first officer to have some relaxation time before command sent them back out into the unknown even if she had to make it a direct order. "But seriously, there's a cathedral that no one is allowed into except for ceremonies. I've only been in it three times. Once for my coming of age ceremony and once for my sister's. The third time was for a wedding. If you want to get married there, just say the word."

"I am well and duly flattered, Captain. Thank you for the generous offer. But... here. On the Hera, eh? If not for her I would have dissipated in deep space and no one would have ever known. If not for her I couldn't have been able to contact Sonak, so that he could find me. She's a big part of this too," Paris patted the bulkhead fondly. "A cathedral wedding would probably be a grand affair I'm sure, ma'am. But, see... I'm a Starfleet career gal." Rita plucked at the hem of the skirt of her vintage minidress uniform. "I've already got my wedding dress."

"Fair enough. Another flight deck wedding it is then." Enalia knew when to quit and this was it. "I'll still call in the fortress' maids to do setup and teardown though."

"Catering on the flight deck? Invite and feed the crew?" Paris asked, assuming Captain Telvan's generosity would extend to invite the crew to the party. It seemed a piratical code sort of thing to do, to Rita's mind.

"That's generally how it's done. We'll need enough cake for about twelve hundred people. Engineering will have to check the flight deck life support systems." Tapping her comm badge, Enalia had immediate plans to make and little time to make them in.

"Enalia to Maica- get the Fortress kitchen maids in overdrive. We're having a wedding on the Hera's flight deck, and everyone is invited!"