French, Paris

Posted on Tue Sep 11th, 2018 @ 12:04am by Commander Rita Paris & Lieutenant Seregon French

Mission: Holographic Horrors
Location: USS Hera, Deck 10, Docking Hatch
Timeline: 2395, Stardate 72676.5

At least it wasn’t the transporter room again.

Amongst the duties of the First Officer of the USS Hera was included greeting onboarding new transfers. As the more social of the command duo, Captain Telvan preferred to have her anachronistic ‘Number One’ meet and greet the onboarding officers checking into the command. Which was a duty Rita Paris was happy to discharge, so long as it didn’t involve a trip to the transporter room.

Today it was the new Sec/Tac chief, whose record was sealed for command level only. Which might have bothered the pretty pilot, but one had to expect a certain level of secrecy and subterfuge when it came to working with Starfleet Intelligence. Now that she dwelled in the shadows on a ship that resembled a shapely inky shadow of a starship, sealed personnel files were a minor inconvenience at best. The important thing, to Rita’s mind, was that the command made the proper impression on the newcomer, that they felt welcomed and valued, and that they knew where to go and what to do.

At least this time she had a name and rank to work with.

Pacing slowly back and forth on the deck inside the docking hatch, Paris tapped away at the tablet in her hand even as she had another one tucked under her arm. While she waited, she was, as ever, filing reports and staying on top of paperwork. For a woman whose improvisational skills were considered her strong point, Paris found paperwork easy and simple to maintain… mostly because she spent so much time staying on top of it.

Pacing three measured steps, Paris about-faced and continued, marching slowly back and forth until she heard the outer airlock register a contact. As they were docked at the moment, the hatches were open, so she parked both PaDDs on her hip, turned to face the newcomer and brought up a smile that could have made her a model had she not been so hellbent on exploring the galaxy.

Finally, thought Seregon. She looked through the entry point and saw the lovely glow of her new home. As she handed the padd to a security officer. He looked at her with a sly smile. He didn't say anything as a woman stood not far away, and she looked important enough to not be caught by her giving the newbies a hard time, or coming on to a new officer..he pointed and she followed his lead. As she stepped through the opening and walked over to the full figured beauty of a woman. "Hi, I'm Seregon French, reporting for duty!" And she stuck out her hand forgetting that she needed to salute.

The leggy lieutenant commander looked at the outstretched hand, looked up to make eye contact with those striking green eyes. A broad grin spread over the face of the blonde with the tomboy haircut as she stepped in and took the offered hand in a proper handshake. "Finally? Somebody in the future who knows what a handshake is?"

Pumping it twice, the unconventionally-uniformed officer then released French's hand, as that grin became a full-fledged smile. "My daddy always said that you could tell everything about a man from his handshake. All of his character was contained in it- the way they stand, where their eyes are, their posture, whether the grip is limp, firm or one of those overcompensating bone-crushers. That handshake was one of the few I've actually managed in all of these meeting, and it was a pretty darn good handshake."

"I'm Rita Paris, First Officer of the Hera. Welcome aboard, Lieutenant French. Very nice to meet you. Already did permission to come aboard with security, I hope?" the statuesque star sailor solicited.

Without hesitation French chimed in. "Yes, that big gorgeous hunk of a man back there saw my orders and directed me to you." As they released hands, she spoke again. "I hope your daddy felt the same way about us woman." French exclaimed and smiled right back at her. From her waist down, Frenches outfit was Pure Black. Anyone who knew could tell it was the lower half of an Intelligence cat suit. Covered by a Dark Blue jacket that was neither proper of improper the way she wore it, and that Red Hair of hers, but there was no rule that she knew of saying that you had to report in proper uniform. After all, a girl wore what she could whilst traveling, and she wouldn't be on duty until after she was cleared by the ships doctor. At least those were her instructions before she left Fleet.

French waited and took it all in. This welcome was one of the best she had that she could think of. Everybody seemed so warm and friendly.

"Daddy was a terrible misogynist, so all of his little sayings tended to be along that line. But yes, Miss French, I believe a lot can be said from a handshake. Shall we?" Paris gestured to the interior of the starship, then began walking at a rather rapid pace. "I have to admit I'm a little jealous. Back in my day Navigation handled the ship to ship weaponry, and the Hera's systems look very advanced. How was your trip?"

"To be honest, I was so excited about getting back to work, I'd have to say. Better than average. Having been out of action for a while now. A lot changes in two years." She said thinking how much did she really want to reveal at this early meeting. After all she needed to shore up the confidence of those around her, and that was her first priority. Making sure she still had it. Whatever IT was. She thought as they made their way through the corridor.

"I got trapped as a warp ghost for almost five years. After they rescued me I cracked up, spent two years in Starfleet psych. So, whatever kept you out of action, I might have ya beat," Paris offered with a grin. "I think you'll like the command. The Hera gets into interesting scrapes and situations, the Captain's unique and just in case you're curious, no, this isn't the standard uniform of the day," Paris gestured to her vintage Starfleet mod minidress uniform with a wry smile.

"Hey no matter what anybody has to say, you wearing that uniform girl!" Said French with a head sway and an old fashioned finger snap just for emphasis on her comment! "After all, it's nice and refreshing to see someone do their own thing. This outfit I'm wearing provides me with two things. Confidence and warmth. Both I need right now in fair amounts. But let there be no mistake, when you need me, I'll be right there. Win lose or draw," offered French.

"Well, it is my uniform, just not the standard for the Hera," Paris explained. It was pretty clear that the Sec/Tac chief was nervous, and this was a 'getting back on the horse' moment for her. Rita had tried to commiserate, but it didn't seem like it gotten through. So, a little reassurance. "It has never been regulation in my experience that you have to check into your command in uniform, so if your outfit choice works for you it works for me, Ms. French. As far as you being there when we need you, I never had any doubt. chief. You're Starfleet- it's what we do."

Flipping one of the PaDDs around, she inspected it, then handed the other one to the newly-arriving officer. "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."

"Thank you, and don't think I don't realize that you are rooting for me. I still read between the lines and I appreciate the pep talk, XO. I know without asking I can come to you if I need to talk, girl to girl!" And Seregon took the padd she was being handed and smiled back at her very attractive XO. "I'll make all my appointments as soon as possible because I want to get back to work. I've been gone too long, but you never forget your training!" She said with confidence.

"I actually prefer First Officer, if it's all the same. Never cottoned to being called the XO somehow," the curvaceous commander explained. "And relax, French. Take a breath, all right? No pressure. Yes, you can girl talk me, or you can professional talk me- it's part of my job, and we're shipmates, so I'm happy to be here for you. Apparently we're going to be going into some dark and scary places, so I'm glad you're coming along, believe me. You know much about these MACO suits they outfit us with for away missions these days?"

"MACO's." And a slight smile came to her face. "Yes, I've worked with them before. It seems like a life time ago. But I was on a Space Station called Aurora, and it was taken over by the Breen. The MACO's attempted to take it back. They almost did. But things went pair shaped when Breen reinforcements showed up. So the Lt In charge Hayes, gave to detonate ordered for the self destruct system and took out several Breen, a few of their ships and even a few MACOs in the process. They are bad ass. And a lot of fun when you get to know them!." She said with a smile.

Interesting story to be so cheerful about, Paris thought, but outwardly she stopped at the turbolift and tabbed the up button. "I was more specifically referring to their gear and equipment- I was wondering if you were familiar witht he operation of the hardshell armor suits. But no matter, we might all learn together, hm?" The turbolift arrived, and the vintage edition Starfleet officer stepped in, expecting French to be behind her as she turned and called, "Deck 8, please."

French stayed close and got on the turbo lift. "I'm not up to date on their equipment. But I do remember what they are like off duty. I'm sure that never changes." And she giggled as the turbo lift door closed.

"I wouldn't know. Never served with Marines, and we don't have any onboard," Paris explained as the lift arrived at its destination on Deck 8 and the doors slid open. Stepping out into the corridor, Paris' long legs began that martial stride again, apparently assuming that the security chief was keeping up as she spoke. "Just their gear. You might want to add scheduling a meeting with Ensign McBain to get fitted and qualified in the suits, as you're going to be called upon for away missions and you will need to be familiar. I assume you're checked out and qualified with all of the latest weaponry and such, and there won't be any surprises on our end in the field?"

"By the time I've finished my meetings, I'll be up to scratch on everything pertinent to my position and ready to perform all tasks assigned to me." Seregon said with confidence, wondering where they were going but not wanting to ask.

"I will be interested to see that eventuality," Paris replied in a somewhat uncharacteristic speech pattern. Stopping, she pointed to the doorplate. "It seems we've arrived, Lieutenant French. Welcome to your quarters, here at the outer rim of what the locals call 'Officer Country'. I've parked you not far from the turbolift for ease of access, and your next door neighbor is the inestimable Lieutenant Dauntless, the new Ops chief and a go-getter if ever there was one. You two should get to know one another. You might also consider looking up Ensign McBain- he is the Hera's new infiltration expert, and I'm certain he would want to exchange ideas and strategies with someone as experienced as yourself."

"So, any questions?" the first officer in the antique Starfleet uniform asked cheerfully.

"No questions, you have been most helpful. I look forward to our next conversation. Thank you First Officer Paris for your professionalism!" And she stuck out her hand again to shake good bye!

The first officer took the outstretched hand and shoot it, holding onto it as she spoke. "You're still pretty fractured, aren't you French? And you don't know how you're going to react... if you've still got it. You'll do fine- because your shipmates are counting on you." With that and a wink, Paris released the security chief's hand to stride off.

French smiled and turned her attention to her quarters and her new home.