Solitary, Not Introverted

Posted on Tue Sep 11th, 2018 @ 1:23am by Commander Rita Paris & Lieutenant Delilah Dauntless

Mission: Holographic Horrors
Location: Main Shuttlebay, Deck 4, Saucer Section
Timeline: 17:05 hrs Kabrel Standard Time, September 1, 2395

Lieutenant Delilah Dauntless stepped out onto the flight deck of the USS Hera's shuttlecraft bay, and let out a deep, single breath. After having spent the last 72 hours aboard a cramped Arbazan passenger shuttle with its sub-par accommodations and unsophisticated crew, the privileged young woman had, at last, reached her destination. Delilah was pleasantly surprised to see that at least the Hera appeared to be a state-of-the-art vessel, as well as aesthetically pleasing to her eyes.

The spacious shuttlebay in which she now stood was sleek & sophisticated, a far cry from the dreary, dungeon-like confines of the glorified escape pod she'd arrived in. At both sides of the doors leading out of the shuttlebay were posted two strapping young Starfleet security officers, standing with their hands clasped behind their backs. Delilah glanced over at the security officer to her right, a tall, bald-headed Orion, who bore the rank of Petty Officer 2nd Class. The Orion security guard caught Delilah's eye, smiled warmly, and said, "Greetings. Welcome to the Hera."

"Did they forget to teach you how to address a superior officer, Mister?" Delilah asked coolly in an ethereal, child-like voice.

"I- er . . ." faltered the Orion, but Delilah immediately dismissed him with a wave and turned to the security man on her right -- a blue-skinned Andorian male, also a Petty Officer. Wisely, the Andorian enlisted man snapped to attention to show that he was all business.

"You," Delilah addressed the Andorian, her girlish voice taking on an annoyed tone. "Where do I find Lieutenant Commander Rita Paris?"

“That would be me,” answered a cheerful voice from behind her.

Turning, the newly-arrived Operations chief took in the sight of a tall humanoid female with a rather curvaceous figure who was clad, of all things, in a gold minidress that looked like it belonged in a history book. The only anachronism to the outfit that she could see were the two solid and one partial pip on the black angled neckline of her… uniform? On her left breast was an archaic Starfleet insignia, which had a comm badge reproduction of that angular emblem with the stylized starburst that over a century ago signified command.

As for the woman herself, bright blue eyes peered from a pretty face under a shock of short-cropped blonde hair, cut in an angular bob hairstyle that was at once functional yet fashionable. Where she had come from was unclear, but there she stood, a PaDD parked in a carry position on one hip. A warm smile graced her face as she extended her hand in greeting.

“Lieutenant Dauntless, I presume?” she asked in a friendly tone.

Delilah stiffened slightly as she laid eyes on the Hera's XO, determined to disguise any reaction to the lieutenant commander's unexpected appearance. Instead, Dauntless summarily snapped to attention, her manner business-like, even brusque. "Yes, Sir," came her crisp response in that odd, child-like voice. "Reporting for duty as Chief Operations Officer, Sir."

The petite young lieutenant stood smartly in her dress uniform, its starched stark-white fabric draped cleanly about her dainty, diminutive frame. Her jet-black hair had been pulled back tightly, arranged into a bun, giving a severe sensibility to her delicate features. Not a hair out of place. Not a wrinkle to be found. A pair of ice-blue eyes peered up at Paris, their gaze as chilly as the tone in her girlish voice.

The anachronism briefly eyed the outstretched hand, wondering why it seemed so hard for people in the future to grasp the concept of a handshake. With a slight raise of her brows, the lieutenant commander snapped to, returning the salute in precise military fashion. Dropping the salute, the gold-clad commander's face settled into a pleasant expression of patience, as if she were waiting for something.

As Dauntless likewise dropped the salute, her brow knitted in disapproval as she took in the Lieutenant Commander's outfit. "Is that... the Hera's service uniform, Sir?" Delilah asked, imagining what the provocative costume would look like on her pixie-like frame. The young lieutenant suppressed a stab of sudden alarm & shame, knowing she possessed neither the curves nor the legs pull it off.

The friendly first officer burst into a short laugh at that, and when she spoke, her voice never lost that jovial tone. "No, Miss Dauntless, this is not the uniform of the day for the officers of the Hera. It's a long story, but suffice to say that back in my day this is what we wore, and the Captain indulges that I'm comfortable in it. Why don't we skip that whole 'permission to come aboard' formality. I guess they don't teach that as military onboarding etiquette at the Academy anymore. Shall we proceed, Miss Dauntless?" Gesturing through the pressure door that separated the shuttle bay from the Hera's interior with a smile, the first officer invited the new ops chief aboard.

"Sir," Delilah nodded, as she followed the curvy commander out of the shuttle bay. The young lieutenant resented Paris' cheery comment on her faux pas in protocol. It didn't matter that the off-handed observation wasn't intended to offend. It still called attention to Dauntless' inexperience... inexperience that the 20 year-old herself derided as a glaring weakness.

"I expect you have questions about my suitability to this assignment, Sir," Delilah offered, her childish voice almost haughty with self-confidence. "I want to impress that you needn't worry about my age or level of experience. Starfleet would not have sent me here if I weren't eminently qualified for the job."

The long-legged lieutenant commander wasn't exercising a particularly martial stride as they moved into the Galaxy class saucer section of the Hera. Instead she was locomoting in long, slow paces, hips swiveling slowly as she did so, that PaDD still parked at her side. Looking down at the junior officer beside her with a bemused expression, the old-school officer slightly cocked an eyebrow. "Well, it's my opinion Starfleet wouldn't have sent you out here if you weren't eminently qualified for the job either, Miss Dauntless. But seeing as how you want to impress me with your age and experience level, what would you declare as your greatest weakness?"

"My... greatest weakness..." Delilah's brow furrowed again, and the callow officer bristled inwardly at the suggestion that she, one of the youngest persons to make lieutenant in the service's history, even had a weakness. "...I've heard it said that I can be... aloof, Sir," Delilah said at last. "At the Academy, I went out of my way to avoid unnecessary social interaction. I suppose some people could see that as a weakness, Sir."

"Excellent answer, Miss Dauntless," Lieutenant Commander Paris replied cheerfully. "I suppose that could potentially be a somewhat limiting factor in managing team dynamics and cooperative exercises. But I'm sure that running the department responsible for communication will help that along," the unconventionally uniformed officer observed as they arrived at the turbolift, whereupon she pressed the down button. "So what's your passion? What drove you out here to the edge of the unknown, on an Intel vessel no less? Not exactly the most conventional of assignment requests, I'd imagine."

"I expect I was chosen for this post, aboard this vessel, because of my scientific background," allowed Delilah, as she clasped her hands behind her back. "I'm an expert in information systems technology. I hold a masters degree in quantum cryptography from the Daystrom Institute of Technology. I imagine the Office of Starfleet Intelligence saw a use for those skills." Delilah couldn't help the slight smirk that unconsciously played upon her delicate features. "This tour of duty will give me the Starfleet service experience I need to qualify for acceptance into the Interdisciplinary Doctorate Program at the Vulcan Science Directorate's ShiKahr Academy. Once I complete that..." Delilah's ice-blue eyes narrowed reflexively, her dainty hands balling into fists behind her back. "...well, 'the sky's the limit', as they say."

"Mmmm. Ambitious," the retro throwback officer opined as she stepped into the turbolift, turning to insure that the new ops chief was in before she called out, "Deck 8. Not the answer to my question, but pretty impressive all the same."

It took no time to traverse two decks, and as the doors slid open once more the languid lieutenant kept up that casual rolling gait as she continued to chatter. "If you're interested in the ShiKahr Academy, the fellow that graduated at the top of your class just came aboard, you could look him up to ask him some pointers. I believe he's billeted as the assistant chief science officer," the buxom blonde offered solicitously.

"That really won't be necessary, Sir," the 20 year-old said with a start, her nose wrinkling as if having smelled something unpleasant. "I'd prefer to... limit... my interactions with the crew, to what's strictly necessary for the performance of my duties. Nothing more." Regaining her composure, Delilah's ice-blue eyes shot a meaningful look up at the taller blonde in vintage command gold. "Besides, Sir. I plan on being far too busy during off-hours to fraternize."

The younger woman's unnatural gaze briefly wandered across Paris' classic outfit again. Delilah's curiosity was piqued, she was forced to admit. However, she stopped herself from inquiring further about the commander's flirtatious yet flattering attire. Showing interest would invite further efforts at small talk... and small talk was a special kind of torture that Delilah took great pains to avoid.

Apparently the First Officer specialized in it.

"Interesting goal, Ms. Dauntless. But hey, the universe needs introverts too," the unrepentantly upbeat officer inadvertently offended as she expertly flipped the PaDD around to tap at it for a few seconds, then she flipped it around to offer it to her shipmate.

Clearly Paris spent a considerable amount of time with one in her hand, as well as delivering them to others. "Here's your welcome aboard package, including your quarters assignment, maps of the Hera, limited computer access and some appointments to keep. You need to check into the command in order to have full access, so that means a meeting with the first officer, a meeting with the captain, a physical and a session with the ship's counselor. Once everyone signs off, you'll be checked into the command, and be granted full access for active duty."

"Very good, Sir," Delilah nodded, already dreading the necessary up-coming meetings with three more command officers, before the day's business was done. She could do this. Just a few more, and it would be over, and she could relax. The space-lagged young lady thought about the Nuvian resort spa holoprogram she had brought with her from home, and took courage. "I... imagine Captain Telvan is probably very busy. Should I...?" Delilah's voice faltered. She hated having to ask a question, hated having to be told something a more experienced officer would already know. "Would now be a good time to meet with her, Sir?"

"If you like," the easygoing executive expressed. "I was planning to wrap up our conversation, show you to your quarters and my usual modus operandi is to insure that the new officer doesn't have any additional questions, then give them time to unwind, catch a shower and face the rest of the meetings in their own time. Most of the crew is on shore leave at the moment, after all. But if you'd like to skip all of that, I can escort you directly to the Captain for your next meeting."

Pausing in the hallway, the pretty pilot pivoted, turning to make direct eye contact with the frostily ambitious Operations chief. The smile that seemed perennially plastered onto her face suddenly looked less warm and friendly, replaced by one considerably more enigmatic, perhaps even a touch predatory. The statuesque starship siren stepped slightly into Delilah Dauntless' personal space, emphasizing the nearly a full head's difference in their height, forcing the newly minted officer to look up to make eye contact. When she spoke, that warm and friendly tone was conspicuously absent as a shadow fell across her face.

"I believe we've gotten to know each other very, very well during the course of this conversation. Don't you, Miss Dauntless?"

"If you say so, Sir," replied the young lieutenant, taking a not-so-subtle step back away from the taller commander. The diminutive 20 year old was used to being smaller & slighter than almost everyone else she met. Whether consciously or not, other people tended to crowd her. It had been that way since childhood. It had been that way even with her own sisters. The noticeable change in Paris' tone & temperament, however, usually didn't happen in the people she was forced to interact with, until Delilah had purposefully insulted or offended. Delliah's brow wrinkled again as she lifted her face up to meet Rita Paris' gaze, and saw something... hungry?... behind her blue eyes.

"Actually, I... think unwinding a little would be preferable," Dauntless managed, as her back pressed up against the corridor's walls. The size difference between the two women was undeniable. The golden-clad commander's forearms managed to be almost as large around as one of the smaller lieutenant's stick-thin thighs. Practically at eye-level with the taller woman's ample bosom, it was easy for Delilah to see that one of the woman's breasts was roughly the size of the young girl's head. Dauntless' body appeared immature in comparison to Paris, as it did in comparison to most other women. Resentment caused Delilah's jaw to clench and ice-blue eyes to narrow.

That smile returned as the looming lieutenant stepped back, cocked her head to the bow of the ship and chirped, "As you like, Miss Dauntless. Let's get you a little time in your own space, shall we? I've heard that can be refreshing amongst introverted individuals," the first officer offered solicitously.

"Sir, with respect, I don't think that 'introverted' is the right word," sighed Delilah, doing her best to keep her composure in front of the higher ranking officer. Resentment kept simmering just under the surface of the new operations chief's composed exterior. Rita Paris already had the advantage of size & seniority over the young girl. Delilah absolutely could not abide allowing the woman to think she suffered from social anxiety, to boot! "I may prefer to be solitary... but I am by no means shy. Oftentimes it's a struggle to... temper what I want to say to people. It's just one of the reasons why I prefer not to socialize, Sir."

With a toss of her head, the short blonde hair flipped a bit as Paris worked to get her bangs out of her eyes, continuing on at that ambling pace. Internally Paris debated offering a number of perspectives, but settled on something open to interpretation.

"Solitude can be it's own trap in my experience, Miss Dauntless. Out here, facing what we face, sometimes the absolute worst thing possible can be to find yourself alone. But you're bright and capable, I'm sure you'll do fine on your own." The cheery commander offered an encouraging smile to the junior officer, miming punching Delilah gently in the shoulder for luck, but not making contact with a wink.

"Well! Look at that, here we are," the minidress-clad anachronism paused to turn and stand beside the door where 'LT DAUNTLESS, D' was visible on the LED display at eye level. "You might find the quarters rather cramped and drab, Miss Dauntless, but Starfleet does what it can for its officers. I thought in your case, you'd appreciate being close to the turbolift for efficiency. A bit distant from the rest of the senior staff, though on the same deck, still part of the hub, of course. Do let me know if you need anything, and your reports won't be due til the shore leave rotation is finished. Any questions, anything I can do for you, Lieutenant?"

Delilah nodded, her posture relaxing for the briefest of moments as they reached what would become her new residence. "No, Sir," replied the 20 year-old, the faintest hint of relief evident in her voice. At last their awkward first interaction was coming to an end, and with the solace of a sonic shower and a moment of solitude so close at hand, the aloof young operations officer could suddenly feel the weariness of 72 straight hours of travel weight heavily upon her slight little body. "Thank you, Sir," Dauntless managed to offer, in her eerie, child-like voice. With that, she waived a hand across the biometric sensors in the cabin's doorframe, and watched the door swish open.

"Welcome aboard the Hera, Lieutenant Dauntless," Lieutenant Commander Paris offered as she turned to walk away, calling over her shoulder, "Welcome to the next level..."