It's My Life

Posted on Sat Sep 22nd, 2018 @ 12:56am by Commander Rita Paris & Senior Chief Petty Officer Syal Duran-Yeager
Edited on on Sun Sep 23rd, 2018 @ 11:26am

Mission: Hera v Hera
Location: Sickbay - USS Hera
Timeline: 2100Hrs, September 16th, 2395 - Stardate: 72709.2

Senior Chief Petty Officer Duran-Yeager Syal was lying on the biobe, unconscious after being rescued from the Runabout in which she had been kidnapped by the Orion slaver who had tormented her by telling her that she would make a magnificent sex slave for some nameless crime lord somewhere. Also that she would make this Orion a lot of money in the process. As she passed out, she heard a female scream before her last thought was, 'oh, wait..'

Duran-Yeager had no idea of what had taken place, the efforts to free her nor the efforts to capture those who intended her harm. Someone gently administered a hypo to her neck as the Bajoran female slowly began to wake up. Duran-Yeager was instantly disoriented before she slowly opened her eyes, she looked alright and her uniform didn't feel like it had been removed or even touched, as she suddenly recalled that she was wearing her uniform pants rather than the skirt, she had been considering it but she decided to go with the pants instead.

She let out a soft sigh. "You guys had better be Starfleet, because if you ain't.." she trailed off as she quickly opened her eyes. Instantly she realized three things; the first was that she was safe, the second was that she was really not in any shape for anything, and the third was that this was indeed a Federation starship. "Where am I?" she croaked. "What's happening?"

"Easy, Senior Chief," came a voice that was soon followed by a walking anachronism. The gold minidress uniform looked to be out of the Smithsonian, a hundred and thirty years behind the times. Black knee boots that almost no one wore anymore with heels no less clad her feet. But the chief knew Starfleet history, and there were inaccuracies. The tights had been replaced by black leggings. There was a unique comm badge over the starburst old-school Starfleet emblem on her prodigious bosom. While there was still the wavy gold braid with a broken braid that would indicate a lieutenant commander back in those days, on the low angled collar there were two solid pips and one black pip.

If they were trying to convince her she'd time traveled they should have put more work into their research. And the set, which looked like a very modern fully stocked sickbay.

The woman herself was tall- but to be fair, Syal was laying down. A blonde with a tomboy haircut, she was a rather buxom bombshell in form and figure- the chief would bet this one had never had kids- and when she smiled, she seemed to light up the room a bit.

"Doc said you'd likely be a little disoriented when you came to, so take your time, you're safe. Yes, we are Starfleet, yes, this is the USS Hera- I think you've been trying to reach us? I'm Rita Paris, the first officer." With that, the improbable officer walked over slowly to offer her hand, her other hand in plain sight as she moved in cautiously. No sense in spooking the kidnap victim waking up in a strange place with strangers.

Duran-Yeager paused as she slowly sat up. "Thank you, Commander. For the rescue I mean." she paused as she gently shook the other woman's hand in the human style. "I wish we could have met under better circumstances sir," she added in a soft tone. "Thank you for rescuing me."

"We're Starfleet," the old-school officer said simply as she stepped back a bit, so as not to crowd the Chief. Spreading her hands as she spoke, she shrugged a bit, that smile turning a bit sheepish. "We got lucky... the criminals who had shanghaied you were a little sloppy and overconfident, and we figured out their ruse before they had gotten too far. According to Doc Dael, they had you in a portable stasis unit, and they drugged you too, which would explain how they got your runabout up and running. Any idea how they got you in there?"

"I wish I knew, to be honest. I have a great many questions myself, sir." Duran-Yeager croaked before she coughed to clear her throat. "I was supposed to be hitching a ride to get to the base on time, the supplies I was carrying was for Starbase 23, mostly a dozen or so food replicators." Duran-Yeager frowned ever so softly.

“We have a cargo container your impersonator was trying to smuggle home- I wonder if Security will find that lost cargo in there. We’ll have Hera Security coordinate with Starbase 23 security to see what we can piece together,” Paris nodded, offering what solace she could, given the circumstances.

“According to the Doc, you might be a little fuzzy for a few hours, but they didn’t want to get you all bolstered up on stims to wake you given what you’ve been through. Although there is no evidence of assault, thankfully. It seems the changeling… shapeshifter… Founder?” The officer in the gold mod minidress shook her head, seemingly a bit bewildered by the concept. “Honestly, I’m a little vague on that part myself. But apparently, they kept the Orion slaver they were partnered with at bay until they were delivered to the Hera. And we caught up with the runabout as soon as we figured it out and captured your doppelganger, so there was no time for… well.” Paris left that part unspoken, because they both knew what might have been, and dwelling on it would not help the Chief whatsoever.

“The slaver is in the brig, on that note, if you would like to have a little chat with him. In fact, he is in, and I quote, ‘our dankest bridge cell’. Since we don’t have one of those I just tossed him in a cell and dropped the temperature to 15 degrees after I slugged him in the jaw," Paris shook her hand a bit, the pain a reminder that she should not hit grown men in the jaw when she was angry with them. "That should make it seem pretty dank to him. I suspect he isn’t going to enjoy his interrogation, of which I am sure the Captain would be happy to let you participate. Small comfort given what you’ve been through, but we can’t fix what happened- all we can do is move forward, aye?” Internally, Paris was kicking herself for not bringing the Counselor in on this. But she didn’t want to spook the woman with too many people and too much stimulus at once.

“So that’s where we are and how we got here. Not exactly the onboarding you expected, Chief, but you’re here now. Think you are up for a stroll, or would you prefer to rest a bit first?” The first officer asked accommodatingly.

Duran regarded the larger woman in the strange uniform but she wasn't about to comment on it, she knew that each ship had its own dress code and the like as she listened to what Commander Paris was telling her. "With all due respect Commander, I want nothing to do with any of these guys. I'll let others who are more qualified to myself to handle it. Though I'd like to know what they have to say on the subject." she paused as she slowly shifted her position on the bed.

Duran-Yeager owed this crew a debt of gratitude, especially the person in front of her. "Yeah, moving forward is probably the best thing I can do at this point... But this is one tale I won't be sharing with my children," she added in a gentle tone.

"Yeah, let's go for a stroll." the small female commented before she gently slid off of the bed and onto her own two feet. "Nope, this is one onboarding I'll remember forever, sir," she added with a smile.

"Mmmm, a little tip, Chief. Don't call the Captain 'sir'. It's protocol and personally, I always think it's funny when I get sir'd, but it's a hot button for her. So you don't whack that hornet's nest," Paris stood by to help if the senior enlisted needed it, but respected the smaller woman's space. Crowding people when you were 185cm in heels was something reserved for effect. Grabbing a PaDD off the next biobed, Paris expertly flipped it around to orient the tablet. Tapping at the PaDD to update the ship's surgeon, Paris still seemed to be capable of making small talk.

"So why the Hera, Chief? You're a career fleeter, and we're not exactly a conventional duty choice," the old-school Starfleet officer asked as she moved in next to the chief, easing through the massive sickbay. Finishing her task, the curvaceous commander parked the PaDD on her hip like it belonged there.

"I asked for an unusual duty assignment off of the Starbase I was serving on. I wanted to go back out into the field." Duran-Yeager answered as she regarded the taller female near her. "I knew that I wasn't going to be able to join my husband on his assignment. The Fe'garren is simply too far away at present," she explained evenly. "The Hera was a surprise to me, I didn't get much warning of the assignment."

"Well, for what it's worth, you're a surprise to us too, Chief. Usually isn't your billet on deep exploration vessels and starbases? Again, we're an odd choice. And the Hera was a surprise to you?" Paris' brow furrowed, and she brought her hand up to scratch her chin in thought as they walked. "Then you got kidnapped and nearly hauled off into slavery. It really looks like someone set you up, Chief. But who would have reason? Cui bono? Who profits?"

Duran-Yeager regarded the larger female in silence for a moment as she considered it, she really didn't like the picture that was coming to mind. "Yeah," she said quietly. "I was hoping to join my husband on his command but I was told no and then assigned here." she paused as she frowned. "My assignment came from the personnel officer on Starbase twenty-three." she nodded. "The Fe'garren is Century class and she was doing a deep space exploration assignment." as the shorter female frowned, she ran a finger over her jawline, clearly in thought. "I don't get it, it doesn't add up," she said it in a way that indicated she was either confused or seeing far too many enemies.

"We'll inform Starfleet Intelligence in our reports, and they'll start investigating it on their end. Although I suspect the Captain will likely want to start an investigation of her own on our end. She takes it personally when things like this happen to her crew. So be prepared for a conversation about that when you meet her, maybe organize your thoughts a bit. Because she's quite likely to ask." Having reached one of the connecting corridors between labs and wards, Paris paused.

"All right Chief, you're an old salt who's been on deck since you were old enough to sign on. And you just woken up from being kidnapped. I don't want to insult you by offering to take you to your quarters to get a shower and center yourself, if you want to go directly to the captain to report in. So, your call, Chief." Paris waited patiently for the answer. She didn't want to drive the woman, but she was a 19-year veteran. No one was better equipped to decide what she was up for than the Chief herself.

"No insult was taken, Commander," Duran-Yeager answered with a nod. "But I'd welcome a chance to settle in and have a shower." as she smiled at the taller female. "I'll need to replicate some new clothing as my bag was lost, it seems." she didn't seem too bothered by the fact. "All it had in it was clothing." she paused. "But if I may. Answer me one question... Why does the Captain not like to be called sir? and what of you?"

"What of me?" Paris raised her left eyebrow a bit, a somehow Vulcan expression despite her half-smile.

"How do you prefer to be addressed?" Duran-Yeager inquired. "Most senior officers I've interacted with seem to be all different, some by name, some by last name and others by rank," she added.

"Well, if you're just in conversation, ma'am is fine by me," the easygoing executive explained. "Lieutenant, Lieutenant Commander or Commander are all proper and I'll answer to them. First Officer is what I call the position, and I'll answer to that too. As I said, Sir doesn't faze me, and it's still a proper address, it's just ridiculous to call me that. But I don't bother to correct. As for the Captain? I honestly couldn't tell you why. But I saw a new crewman call her 'sir' and he got quite the browbeating. So whatever the reason, feel free to investigate it or even ask her. Me, I called her ma'am from the minute I hit the deck here, and it's always ma'am or Captain for me."

Stepping over to catch the turbolift, Paris held it for the chief.

Duran-Yeager followed the larger woman into the turbolift as she processed what she was being told. "Okay ma'am," she answered. "I'll look into the matter first before I ask the skipper about it," she added with a gentle smile.

"As you like, chief. Deck 9, please," Paris called to the ship's computer. "How about yourself? I've got to admit, Senior Chief Duran-Yeager is a mouthful. Since you've not corrected me, I'm assuming 'Chief' works for you?"

"Chief works fine for me ma'am." she paused. "I'll answer to Syal or Duran-Yeager if it’s an informal chat." she regarded the other woman with a smile before she breathed out and then breathed back in again, a sign that she was still rattled and uneasy.

The turbolift arrived at its destination, and the first officer stepped out onto Deck 9, the enlisted deck. While there were junior officer's quarters in the aft, the officer's mess and stellar cartography to name a few locales of Deck 9, it was primarily home to the enlisted who crewed the ship. As they stepped out into bustling activity, Paris walked at a measured pace. The chief was still shaken, but Paris had concocted a plan.

"So we've got the changeling in custody," Paris began, in a louder tone than was needed. "The slaver is in the brig giving up his entire ring of cohorts, and I believe you even captured some stolen Federation property in the process. All in all, a very successful undercover assignment, Senior Chief. Well done, well done."

The buxom blonde bombshell was a terrible liar, and her voice cracked when she said 'undercover assignment'. But it didn't matter. The enlisted, notorious for gossip, immediately began spreading the rumor. While very few knew the truth, scuttlebutt was the fastest way for news to travel, and from the mouth of the highly recognizable First Officer made it gospel. It wouldn’t do to have the Chief’s authority undermined by the enlisted knowing she had been kidnapped and rescued, so Paris concocted a cover story on the fly, doing her best to chart a better course for the senior enlisted.

"Thank you, commander. I do what I can." Duran-Yeager wasn't a hundred percent sure of what was going on but she wasn't about to argue or contradict the Commander as she followed along behind the larger woman.

Stopping at the midline, the line that ran fore to aft, stem to stern on any vessel, the gold-clad commander indicated the quarters to the fore. "You get the big bucks so, you get the risks and get the view, Chief." Paris indicated the ID panel next to the quarters which read SCPO DURAN-YEAGER, S. Flipping the tablet about like she spent all of her time using or delivering them, the first officer handed over that PaDD she seemed so at home with from its resting place on her hip, which had a very unfair wasp waist above it.

"Here's your welcome aboard package, including your quarter's 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." Paris paused, considering. When she spoke again, her voice was low and conspiratorial. "If you'd like to call home and let your family know you arrived safely, I could ask permission from the Captain...?"

It was an enormous presumption on Paris' part. She'd had time to read the Senior Chief's service jacket, and she knew from the imposter about the husband and children the Bajoran officer had left behind. There was every possibility that it might offend the career military non-commissioned officer. But after what she'd been through, Rita was willing to bet the chance to reconnect with her loved ones, even for just a few minutes, would do a world of good for the new Chief of the Boat.

Duran-Yeager gently accepted the PADD. "Thank you for all your efforts ma'am," she commented. "I'd love to chat with family, even if it’s only for a few minutes,"

"You're welcome, Chief. Nobody gets left behind and we all get to go home, right?" With a nod and a curt smile, the gold-clad commander about-faced and marched away.

Duran-Yeager looked up at the other woman with a smile, she held the PADD in her left hand which she kept at her side as she watched Paris turn and departed. Duran-Yeager proceeded to enter her new home and once the door was closed behind her.

Duran-Yeager looked around the expansive size of her new home. She smiled before the small framed female went over to the sofa before she sat down and she began to read the PADD as she had a goal to accomplish. This ship and her crew still needed her.

This was definitely a story she would not be sharing with her children any time soon.