Nowhere To Run

Posted on Sun Oct 21st, 2018 @ 12:56am by Commander Rita Paris & Lieutenant Delilah Dauntless

Mission: Hera v Hera
Location: USS Hera, Deck 8, Officer's Country
Timeline: 2395, en route to Meroset 347

It was 04:00 hours when the door chime rang. Ignoring it did not stop it's persistence, however. Then the communicator on her uniform chirruped. Then the air above her bed chirruped, and the voice of the perennially cheerful first officer spoke from the vibration of the SFI generations.

"Good morning, Lieutenant Dauntless. It's Lieutenant Commander Paris, I'm sure you remember me from the other day. You've got three minutes to be out here in running clothes ready to take a little jog with me. During which you can brief me on why the captain wants me to shove you into a class 8 probe armed only with your, and I quote, 'sense of superiority and much-vaunted wits' and fire you at Hera's World to engage in diplomatic negotiations with, and again I quote, 'her clearly superior negotiation skills'."

Delilah's eyes opened with a groan of protest at the unwelcome intrusion upon her slumber. The young operations officer rolled over onto her back, and opened her eyes to stare at the ceiling. The accent lighting that ran along the baseboards of her quarters' walls bathed the confines of her room in the dim gray twilight of an early morning sky before dawn. Delilah guessed the time of day to be somewhere between 04:00 and 04:30 hours. For salvation's sake, thought the diminutive young woman, as she reached out with an arm and felt along the surface of the bedside table for her Starfleet-issue combadge, before realizing that with a shipboard communications channel already open, her combadge was unnecessary.

"Commander," grumbled the 20 year-old, her girlish voice failing to convey her precise level of aggravation, "I was unaware we had an appointment for so early this morning." The last word of her sentence dissolved into a wide an unwelcome yawn.

"Well, the truth is, we don't. But I thought that rather then send you to certain doom, maybe we should take a little unscheduled meeting time," the lieutenant commander cheerfully replied. "If it's inconvenient for you I can always cancel, and we can proceed to test your people skills on the angry goddess who has literally torn apart our last three diplomatic delegations...?"

Ugh... "Alright, Commander," replied the young lieutenant, already regretting not having died in her sleep last night. "Acknowledged."

"Minute and a half, Miss Dauntless. Tempus fugit," The disembodied voice reminded, then the channel closed.

Delilah groaned. With no small amount of effort, the dainty little lieutenant threw aside the wrinkled, white silk sheets that had covered her naked body, and gave a sigh of resignation. It's fine, Delilah reasoned, as she swung her legs off the side of the bed and sat up, groggily. I was planning on getting a workout in before shift, anyway. Early morning exercise had always been a part of her daily routine. Admittedly, the prospect of having to share that routine with another person did not appeal to the aloof young lady at all. Then again... perhaps there was something to be gleaned from the inconvenience... something that Delilah might be able to use to her advantage? With a derisive snort and a shake of her head, Delilah stood, greeted the dawn's early artificial light with a naked stretch and another yawn, then set about getting dressed.

It was barely a minute later as the door to Delilah's quarters swished open, and the petite 20 year-old shuffled out to meet Rita Paris in the corridor. Her jet-black hair, usually worn up in a severe tight bun, was now wild & untamed, with only a white terry-cloth headband to keep it at bay. A white Starfleet Academy-issue tensolyne sports bra and matching leggings hugged her petite mocha-skinned frame, and left her arms and midriff bare. A pair of minimalist split-toed running shoes, completed the young woman's look.

"I'm here, Commander," said Dauntless, looking up at the tall & buxom executive officer with bleary ice-blue eyes.

"Well, so you are, Miss Dauntless!" the cheerful commander observed. Clad in a grey sports bra that seemed to be something of an architectural wonder, bearing an outdated Starfleet Academy logo and a pair of matching shorts that clung to the woman's overabundant curves like a second skin, Paris flashed a dazzling smile at the junior officer. Of course she's a morning person.. "Would you care to do some stretches beforehand, limber up a bit? Preparation can be crucial in such matters, in my experience," Placing one running-shoed foot on the handrail of the corridor, Paris leaned into a stretch that demonstrated a surprising limberness as she laid her head on her outstretched knee.

"So are we headed to the holodeck, Commander?" asked Delilah, stifling yet another yawn as she braced a hand against the doorframe for balance. Delilah then lifted her left foot, hyper-flexing her knee until the sole of her foot cupped her own buttock, and she felt a good tensile stretch in her left quad.

"Not at all, Miss Dauntless," the friendly first officer nattered on as she switched feet. Of course, Paris had done her stretches and warmup in her quarters beforehand. But she was pleased to see that the young lieutenant recognized the need for it and had obliged- perhaps the first acquiescence the woman had offered since coming aboard. Maintaining her pleasant presentation, Rita doubled down on the lecture. After all, one of the metrics she was watching was how Dauntless would react to such a thing, on a few levels. "Before there were holodecks, we ran the decks of the starship that was our home, and that's part of how we kept ourselves fit. Also prepared for one of the most-oft used skills in our Starfleet repertoire- running away so we could find time to concoct a plan using what we'd learned out this situation. So this morning, rather than try some nature trail or time track, I thought we might bring it back to basics."

"Understood," Delilah said, having stretched her right quad in a similar fashion to the left. With that, Delilah stood with her feet together, then bent forward at the waist, until her forehead touched her knees, and the frizzy ends of her wild hair tickled the tops of her running shoes. The tension in her hyper-extended hamstrings and calves told the tale of how effective a stretch she was getting. "I guess the Captain probably spoke to you about our... conversation?" asked the 20 year-old, mid-stretch.

"Mmmmm," Paris bounced a few times on the balls of her feet, ready to go, but patient as always. "In fact, she had me watch the footage, to insure I would have the opportunity to enjoy your performance firsthand. Quite the strategy to deliberately antagonize the woman who controls your fate for the duration of your service on her starship. Her Starfleet Intelligence classified starship that does not officially exist, which means that for our service, neither do we. But you did get her angry, so that means you certainly won that round, Miss Dauntless." Pausing, the big blonde cocked her head and opened her eyes wide. "I'll admit I am curious as to what your long-term strategy was, as clearly my less than stellar intellect cannot conceive of what stratagem your are employing in which you would be so suicidal as an opening gambit."

Delilah tried to stifle a smile with a shake of her head. "It wasn't really strategy, Sir," Dauntless replied. She stood and completed her stretching routine with a couple of side bends to hyper-extend her oblique muscles, first on the left, then on the right. "I guess it was just reflex." After a moment's pause, the young lieutenant added, softly, "I don't know... she just... her trying to manipulate me... I didn't like it." Delilah shrugged, then performed alternating knee raises, and finally nodded to indicate that she was ready to begin. "Ready when you are, Commander."

Said commander was staring at her agape, then a small smile crossed her face. "Why Lieutenant, I think that might be the first honest thing you've said to me. All right, let's start with that." The long-legged lieutenant commander started off at a light jog, perhaps 5km an hour. Assuming Dauntless was with her, she continued speaking. "It could be viewed as a manipulation attempt, sure. Like you deliberately goading the captain by calling her 'sir'. It could also be viewed as her attempting to motivate you. Being self-interested above all else, if there is no reason for you to work with us, why would you? But a chance to work with unknown technologies, now there is a motivation for our Ms. Dauntless. At least, I would assume so?"

Though she was beginning to express some cutting analysis, that cheerful tone never wavered as the early bird executive trotted effortlessly along. It was clear that despite her physique, this was a regular activity of the chirpily cheerful commander.

"Motivation... manipulation... it's all the same thing, Commander," observed Delilah. The petite lieutenant did her best to stay in lockstep with the taller, longer-legged XO, as they rounded the end of one hallway and cantered onto the corridor of Deck 8 Forward. As easy-going as their pace was, Dauntless found herself constantly having to speed up to match Rita's longer stride. "At any rate, it's unnecessary at best, and insulting at worst. I went to the same Academy as everyone else. I took the same oath... I wear the same uniform. If that's not good enough for her, then my pretending to give a damn about her personal opinion of me, certainly won't change anything." Delilah snorted, shaking her head as she began to recall the particulars of her & the Captain's conversation. "Loyalty... pfft. I offer professional excellence... she wants foolish sentiment. It's ridiculous."

"Ah, loyalty, honor, duty... they certainly are old-fashioned concepts," the first officer offered. "So, I'm curious how you plan to approach Hera? It certainly is brave of you to stick to your principles like that. I have to admire you for that. But I'll admit, I'd be stumped in your shoes- but then, I'm not you. I think she may even be sending you ahead of Counselor Jurot, who insisted on attempting to negotiate with her even after seeing the statue gallery of the last petrified delegation."

"To be honest, I haven't figured out a way to deal with this 'Hera' entity," admitted Delilah, her brow furrowing in frustration. "My research into the technologies of their species has been less than productive. How is 'Hera' able to do what she can do? It's energy-matter conversion technology, no doubt... but what kind? How exactly does it work? Energy means output. Output means there is a mechanism, a process of some kind, at play. What is it? If we can figure out the process, then we can figure out a way to interrupt it, to stop it... maybe even use it ourselves." Delilah sighed as they rounded the end of the Deck 8 Forward corridor and trotted together down the main corridor that curved along the length of Deck 8 Starboard. "You and your people are planning to head down to the planet?" she asked the taller woman.

"We are. Our assignment is to disrupt her army, cripple supply lines and stop her weapon and starship production." As soon as Dauntless comported as a professional, Paris in turn did the same, speaking honestly with her fellow officer about her mission. "Which I'd prefer without having to blow it all to smithereens, because there are innocent people down there she keeps ground beneath her heel, worshiping her out of fear. I've no idea how to accomplish that, and I'm being dispatched in a rather state of the art fighter craft that has the capacity to decimate most of the planet. The future, it seems, is a bit morally complex."

"Hmm," agreed Dauntless with a grunt. The young lieutenant could feel the first hint of perspiration on her soft mocha skin as they ran along. The corridors were mostly empty, thanks to the early ungodly hour, so there was no one else but the lieutenant commander running next to her to see her sweat. The petite girl had begun to adjust to the pace needed to keep up with Rita's strides. "So this entity," Delilah mentioned, "this 'Hera'. She claims to be a goddess, but I'm not really familiar with this mythological figure that she is supposed to be impersonating. What can you tell me about her myths... her motives? Why these attacks?"

Showing an interest in the mission is a positive sign, Paris thought to herself as she maintained the pace. As a recent Academy grad, Dauntless would have no trouble keeping up the standard military jogging pace. But it engaged her body, freeing her mind from social constraints to engage problems. So far so good.

"Zeus is her husband, who according to mythology had a habit of having sex with just about everything that he ran across. As a shapeshifter, that made him pretty diverse. And that's just in Earth mythology. Apparently he really exists, and he has, shall we say, dallied with a number of races of the galaxy, ours included. Hera has had enough of being the spurned wife and has apparently decided to whistle up an insanely powerful mythological army, dispatching them across the galaxy to vent her ire about Zeus' galactic-scale unfaithfulness."

For real?, Delilah thought to herself as she kept pace with Lieutenant Commander Paris. A woman scorned? All this power at this 'Hera' person's command, and it all amounts to nothing more than a glorified temper tantrum? Seriously? Delilah didn't have the words to describe how utterly disappointing that was, and so her silence had to suffice.

A pause of a few heartbeats passed before Paris said quietly, "This was all in the briefing, Miss Dauntless, which you did attend. I am surprised to have to recap anything to you, of all people."

"I'm well aware of what was discussed in the briefing commander," huffed Delilah, annoyed, "Just trying separate what is myth from what is reality. You say this shapeshifting Zeus spread his genetic material across a number of humanoid races? Then where is he? Where are the other beings like him, like her? Is she the last one left? If she has allies, does she have enemies?"

"Let's not get distracted from the matter at hand, Miss Dauntless." Rita was reasonably pleased by the interest, but the fact that she was asking for information she'd already received made the first officer feel she was being stonewalled. Time to spell it out. "You made the woman angry enough to order you on a mission that is basically a death sentence. At the morning meeting, I have to give her a reason why I recommend you for bridge duty instead of torpedo duty. Give me something to work with, Dauntless. Give me confidence that you can work out a way to jam the frequency at which Hera processes the energy. Tell me those fancy degrees and critical thinking are going to produce results I can sell to the captain, girl genius. Because you think I'm joking about that 'firing you at the planet' thing, that I'm trying to scare you. I wish that were true, Miss Dauntless. Captain Telvan does not bluff, nor does she ever make hollow threats."

The surprisingly spry supercentenarian space explorer ran along silently for a bit, letting that sink in. It was a gamble, like lots of dealing with difficult young officers. But she'd roll the dice and take her chances. Given her lifestyle, Dauntless had never actually perceived of such a threat before and Paris hoped it might crack the icy exterior just enough for a Starfleet officer to peek out. Or a woman so desperate to get away from the captain she'd do anything. Which was a sensation with which Paris was personally familiar.

Delilah shook her head, unable to contain her annoyance any longer. "Commander," huffed the little lieutenant, doing her level best to keep her cool, "I don't think I possess the vocabulary to express how much I truly do not care about the Captain's feelings. If having me killed is the best way she can think of to win an argument... to make herself feel better... then she's really no different from this Hera person, is she? It's pathetic, really." The young woman's elfin features were a mask of bitter disdain. "As far as my coming up with a plan... it just so happens I may have an idea."

Well, that did NOT work, but there's that Starfleet officer you were looking for, Paris noted to herself. She may not have gotten through with fear, but Dauntless had clarity of vision, and that was far better. "Thank you, Miss Dauntless. That does grant me considerably deeper insight into just who you are, and it's good to see you live up to your name. You should perhaps learn to care. It might not save your life, but it certainly would enhance it."

"Beta shift tomorrow, the away teams are off at 22:00 hours. The scanners were all recently recalibrated in spacedock, and they are at your disposal. There is live telemetry coming from three spy satellites we have in orbit, try to not get them noticed. You could potentially save an inordinate number of lives and prevent considerable bloodshed if you can disrupt her energies and render Hera mortal, Miss Dauntless. We believe she is using a hyperband of subspace buried in the noise floor. Disrupting and jamming her communications could also make a significant difference."

Delilah's eyes widened lightly as she nodded in response to Commander Paris' information. A hyperband of subspace, the young lieutenant thought, fighting to suppress a smile. Hyperband subspace communications are beyond our current technology. The possibilities for cracking that technology alone...

"Commander," managed Dauntless, as she trotted next to the taller woman. "I think you just gave me what I needed to make that idea of mine an actual viable option. If I can analyze that telemetry... if it supports my hypothesis... I may have that way to disrupt this 'Hera' person's technology you were looking for."

"That might come in very handy indeed, Miss Dauntless. Be prepared for a signal from me when I'm on the surface, and let's hope by then you've got it worked out." Paris turned her head to regard her petite shipmate. "Now race you through the cornered corridors!"

At that, Rita Paris opened up her stride and took off, the experienced cross-country runner taking advantage of the surprise she had sprung on the operations chief to sprint ahead. But somehow she suspected the little lieutenant would strive to catch up until she succeeded, because she was willing to be that Delilah Dauntless really didn't like to lose.