Surf the Bifrost

Posted on Fri Nov 16th, 2018 @ 10:08am by Lieutenant Mona Gonadie & Commander Rita Paris & Lieutenant Commander Mnhei'sahe Dox
Edited on on Fri Nov 16th, 2018 @ 1:40pm

Mission: Escaped Pantheons
Location: USS Hera, Deck 4, Flight Control Operations
Timeline: 2395, en route to the Galactic Core

"Hnaev!"

There was nobody else in the flight control office at that moment, which was a fact that Lieutenant Junior Grade Melanie Dox was abundantly grateful for as she let slip the Romulan equivalent of 'shit'.

Looking at the screen of the small desktop computer interface on the overly spacious desk of the still largely empty desk she had inherited as the new Chief Flight Control Officer, Dox stared in disbelief. Moments ago, a memo from the Captain to arrived illustrating the new uniform guidelines for the senior staff, which she was now a member of. And she was not happy.

Gone would be the comfortable and slimming black and gray suit she was familiar with, showing only a touch of red on the collar and stripes on the cuffs, replaced with a solid red tunic with only a thin black band at the chest line to break up the sea of color. An expanse of bright red, in the case of command and helm, that would serve to accentuate her body issues over her short, round frame. A body type that all the exercise and diet control in the Galaxy couldn't seem to rein in.

Already, the deep red hue shown on the examples shown on the screen pulled her mind back to the insulting nickname she was saddled with at the Academy of barbeque sauce. an epitaph earned by both her overly generous middle and the unusually brown blood her mixed Romulan/human heritage gave her that resembled the condiment.

Slouching back in her chair and sighing, she knew most of the crew would look great in the bright and open new colors and rolled her eyes thinking about how she would likely look like a fat little red troll standing next to most all of them.

Which, of course, is exactly when the door to the office slid open with its characteristic hiss to reveal the First Officer of the Hera, Rita Paris.

Who was, of course, modeling the very uniform that was already making Melanie’s stomach tighten. Of course, she was wearing the minidress version, which no one ever wore anymore, except of course for the woman 130 years out of step with the universe. The perfect pinup girl, who made wearing such a skimpy and short uniform look effortless. She wasn’t even wearing the jet black leggings she had added to her old gold minidress- instead, she was wearing black tights which were far more sheer, and quite clearly showed off the miles the commander ran every morning.

All of which just made the chief flight control officer’s stomach clench up that much tighter.

Noticing the anxious aviatrix’s expression, Commander Paris rather rapidly deduced the cause as those deep, brown eyes roamed across her form, taking in the details and measuring herself against the genetic lottery jackpot that was Rita Paris.

Thinking that she’d try something a bit different to break the internal tension of the lieutenant junior grade she was so fond of, the buxom blonde stopped a few paces from the desk and did a quick 360, pivoting in place to show off the bright red uniform that was being phased in as the uniform of the day. As she did so, Dox couldn’t help but notice that in the first officer’s case, there were apparently some external panties added under the skirt, because it seemed somehow slightly insufficient to cover her rather curvaceous caboose.

“So? You ready to join me in the land of cool drafts and short skirts?” Paris joked, her smile one of pure bemusement and mischief that she hoped would not send Dox into a spiral of body issues and self-shaming.

And it was an effort that was successful, as Dox let out an unintended but wholly pleasant snort with a slight chuckle. She smiled broadly with her eyebrows slightly pursed in a humorous expression. "Uh, I don't think so, Commander." Standing up from her chair to greet the Hera's First Officer, Dox made a pointing gesture with her head to her wide hips and rear. "I think the pants option is definitely more my speed."

Much to Dox's own surprise, she was becoming much more comfortable around Rita Paris, and wasn't automatically jumping to anxiety as a response. She was reading the cues that it was appropriate to be, at least partially, casual in her response and responding accordingly.

"I'll say that the new uniforms certainly look good on you, Comm..." At which point, Dox stopped in her tracks as she was taking Paris' new uniform in as she noticed the three SOLID rank pips on her chest. "COMMANDER!?" She exclaimed with a warm and open mouthed smile.

Of course, Dox had referred to Paris as 'commander' since coming on board. While her rank had been Lieutenant Commander, it was still her position on the ship as First Officer and therefore perfectly appropriate. But recognizing that this new uniform must've come with an official promotion made Dox as positively happy for her new friend as she had been since coming on board. Far happier then she was for her own promotion to Flight Control Chief.

“Ah, yeah…” the curvaceous commander replied, and for the first time, Dox got to watch her fearless first officer look a bit bashful and anxious. “They, ah, first set me as a Lieutenant when I landed here, since their Rita Paris was listed as KIA when she was a Lieutenant. The Captain gave me back my actual rank in reward for saving her and the ship, once she figured out the old throwback was still good for something. And they count my time in rate over that 130 years that I missed, and the fact that I spent three years as a Lieutenant Commander, so…” Paris rolled her eyes and sighed.

“Captain wants a Commander as her first, so a Commander I shall be. Apparently, the brass were impressed that I managed to capture Hera, and… it’s not special favors, I swear I am not sleeping with the Captain or the Commodore, she was just hell-bent on promoting me!” It was definitely a change of pace to watch Paris squirming uncomfortably and trying to rationalize a situation in which she had no control nor effect, but apparently her promotion bothered her that much. Apparently back in her day the only way an officer rose in rank as she did was through sexual favors or blackmail, given the excuses for it she was making.

For her part, Dox was largely unaware of the politics of Paris' day and tilted her head, slightly confused. But one thing Melanie Dox knew when she saw it was anxiety, and she didn't like seeing it on Rita Paris so she wanted to try and say something to help. "Well, I've not been here all that long, but I've served under a few different Commanders on the starbases I was assigned to, and none of them seemed like they did the job half as well as I've seen you do it in just a couple of weeks, and that's just in the help you've given me. So, congratulations."

But not wanting to overstep her bounds or accidentally make the newly minted Commander uncomfortable, Dox stood slightly straighter and tugged down on her uniform. Not quite at formal attention, but in a more professional posture. "That said, you wanted to see me?" Still, enough of a smile rested on her face and tone.

A chagrined and slightly embarrassed expression settled onto the face of the newly minted commander, and she met the eyes of the junior officer with gratitude. “Thanks, Lieutenant. I guess this time it was your turn for the pep talk, eh? See, I told you you’ll make a heck of a senior officer one of these days.”

With that, Paris inhaled, a somewhat seismic event in the case of her particular anatomical attributes. Letting her breath out slowly, she released all of the tension she’d built up, and just like that, was back to standard, confident and ready for anything Rita Paris. “Our next mission, we’re going to be trying something dangerous- nothing new there- but apparently, there is some sort of energy ribbon that we’ll be flying through. And by flying, I mean the Hera in her entirety, and by we I mean you. So while the science and engineering teams work on finding a way for the ship to handle it, the hand on the wheel will be yours.”

“So, rather than spring it on you, I figured we should probably discuss it a bit in advance. This energy ribbon is supposedly some sort of dimensional interface… honestly, it sounds a lot like the Bifrost of old Norse legend, which… well, they used to teach comparative religions and mythology at the Academy, so does that even mean anything to you?”

"After the lunch briefing, I've been trying to catch up on the various pantheons of... Gods... we're potentially going to encounter. It's a lot to take in." Melanie looked down as she collected her thoughts. "But... 'energy ribbon' sounds... familiar. Not just the bifrost. But..."

Rubbing the top of one ear with the other hand on her voluminous hip, Melanie paused mid-sentence before her face burst back to life as her memory caught up. "The Enterprise B! I remember a lecture from the academy about its maiden voyage. It encountered some kind of... energy ribbon that was tearing refugee ships apart. The teacher said that no ship could navigate too close to it." Melanie had a slightly stern look on her face now, fully focused.

Snapping her fingers, Paris wagged a finger at the helmsman, and when she spoke, her voice was excited. “Jim Kirk’s last mission, right! I, ah, we went to the Academy together, so I read up on what he went on to do here and… he was an impressive figure. But yes, I read about that too. Well, apparently Commodore Meowlith found a way, and where the Commodore dares to tread, so to flies the Hera. So, we have some data and telemetry, and like I said, even as we speak the science and engineering teams are working on solutions to put the Commodore’s scouting to good use. Meanwhile, we need you to be prepared to do the impossible.”

Picking up a PaDD from Gonadie’s desk, the sultry Starfleet siren logged into the tablet, then accessed the footage and data packet.

Tabbing play, the message started out grainy but smoothed out well and even went full normal 3D after a few seconds, though audio and sometimes the video was a bit grainy still. Farenia was on the bridge of a modern Oberth class, the lights dim and flickering around her as she spoke. "We've breached the EM barrier.... ....Glad we're in an Oberth class... The victorium hull and experimental shielding was perfect for the spatial distortions.... ....was as if space itself was twisting around us.... .... We've discovered a massive.... .... ....it's bigger than any ship.... ....self contained..." Then the video shook and Farenia seemed to scramble for her chair's console. ".....caught... ....tractor beam... trying to send scan...." and then the feed cut out, but not before both of them could clearly see what could only be described as a worldship splayed out on the screens across the back of the bridge. The other crew were definitely busy analyzing it, whatever it was, and the images were clear enough to tell that it was at least several times larger than Starbase 1 at the very least.

Leaning in close, Dox squinted slightly at the shakey playback. "Ta'krenn..." She muttered out loud in the Romulan dialect of Rihanai. "Pardon. I was thinking out loud. It just means 'look at that'." But she was too focused to lapse into her usual anxiety over letting her Romulan heritage slip out, and was beginning to feel that it wasn't something Rita Paris would judge her for anyway, so she continued.

"Anyway... I don't recognize that... Whatever it was. It doesn't match the configuration of any ships I'm familiar with regardless of its size." The young pilot turned to look up at Commander Paris jabbing a finger at the screen. "But whatever it is... IT'S flying. So flying isn't impossible in there. And they mentioned Victorium shielding was helpful. Is there any good sensor data that came with that message?"

"Yup. Shaky, broken up, incomplete... the usual. But enough to get us on the right track. We've decrypted and defragged it to the best of our ability, so this is what we've got." Tapping at the tablet, those well-manicured fingers flew across the tablet like Paris lived with one in her hand. Which, during shipboard life, she tended to do just that. As the files opened and access was granted, Paris swept a finger over to copy the files to the simulator. Glancing down to Dox, the menace in a minidress grinned like a kid on Christmas morning.

"What do you say we walk through what we just saw and take an analysis of it in pausable holographic real-time simulation, Miss Dox? After all, it's what Starfleet gave it to us for, right?"

"Commander, you just read my mind." Dox replied with a half smirk.

"Well, far be it for me to override a chief in her department," the charming commander chuckled. "But I did send it to the office simulator, so- wanna call in Gonadie to see if she has any insights, or dope this out on our own?"

"Actually, I DO want her mind on this. If we're going to try doing something that's never been done, I don't want to risk overlooking anything and we may need tech that doesn't exist yet to fly in the ribbon. She's currently on helm duty, hold on." Dox walked over and grabbed a PaDD off of her desk and glanced it over for a moment, then tapped her comm badge. "Lieutenant Dox to Ensign Gonadie, please report to the Flight Control Office. I'm calling in a relief for you now. Thank you." Pausing for a moment, Dox tapped her badge again. "Lieutenant Dox to Ensign Seville. Please report to the bridge. I need you to relieve Ensign Gonadie early. Thank you." After a moment, both officers voices chimed in confirming from the communication systems.

Turning back to Commander Paris, Dox tugged on her uniform top to straighten it. "Okay. Let's see what we can see."

Watching Dox take command of the situation and order her people into action, Paris felt a swell of pride. This was not the pudgy kid who stared at her shoes, avoided eye contact and mumbled despite her test scores and flight ratings. This was most definitely not the evasive junior officer whom she had walked in a circle while distracting her with patter. This was not the young woman who had hesitantly walked into this office for the first time a few weeks ago. The young woman standing before her was a by-gosh-and-golly bonafide Starfleet officer. A chief, no less- concise, deliberate, yet respectful to those to whom she issued orders, the surest way to expect respect in return.

A smile spread across the face of Commander Rita Paris, and she had to restrain it from growing too wide, lest her pride in her shipmate's accomplishment be too evident- but Rita Paris was lousy at keeping a secret.

For her part, Melaine Dox was focused on the task at hand but her cheeks flushing their characteristic deep tan hue shoes that she had noticed Rita Paris' smile and appreciated it. She responded with a slight, if awkward smile of her own before continuing. "If we can see what helm was doing... that will tell me what did and didn't work. It might not be much, but it's a start."

"Precisely, Miss Dox," the crimson-clad commander agreed, refocusing back to the task at hand. "Let's get the scenario loaded up and take a look. Ensign Gonadie is a quick study, she'll catch up."

"Catch up to what?" Mona asked as she entered the office. "Oooh, you're wearing the miniskirt." Bending over and lifting Rita's skirt to inspect it, she hummed over the design. "And bloomers too. Very nice stitching and well thought out. I might have to give that a try when it's approved for general officer use."

Far from being irritated or offended by Mona Gonadie's invasion of her uniform's space, Rita arched an eyebrow and chucked a thumb at the replicator on the wall. "By order of the command team, you're approved, Ensign. Computer, please replicate Ensign Gonadie the miniskirt version of the new new uniform, along with a pair of black tights and a pair of scants. I will admit I don't know if hosiery are approved for Miradonians, but it's the uniform. Computer, also add the Paris model explorer's boots in Ensign Gonadie's size. Thank you."

=^= Confirmed, Commander =^=

"Change at your leisure- but for now, we have some derring-do to plan. Lieutenant, I believe this is your briefing?" The cheerful commander stepped back to give the floor to Dox for the meeting, the actual reason they were all there.

Restraining a slight chuckle at Paris and Gonadie's back and forth, Dox cleared her throat slightly to center herself and refocus. "Aye, Commander." The new department chief out her hands behind her back and continued. "Computer. Please activate Holo simulator. Commander Paris' Oberth class program. Thank you."

With a chirp, the offices holo-emitters shimmered to life, and the three officers found themselves surrounded by a three dimensional representation of the bridge of Commodore Meowlith's ship. "So, our upcoming mission will require us bringing the HERA into a largely unchartered energy ribbon notorious for destroying ships that fly into it, Ensign Gonadie. This simulation is based on the data collected by Commodore Meowlith that Commander Paris has compiled for us."

Walking around the simulated bridge, time appearing frozen around her, Dox gestured to the helm. "We need to assess everything they did to successfully get into this... Whatever it is... So we can do the same in one piece and find out what THIS is." Dox then pointed to the simulated viewscreen. "Computer. Advance to the unknown vessel encounter and freeze."

With another chirp, the holographic image shimmered again, skipping forward a few moments to show the impossibly large ship that the Oberth Class Starship encountered. "This is the point where the footage ends. Computer. Restart from the beginning. Thank you." And the scene that Dox and Paris watched in a screen replayed itself for Ensign Gonadie. Moments later, it refroze at the end once again.

"Computer. Begin replay at one eighth speed, please." Dox asked of the computer, then turned to the two attentive officers. "So let's see everything we can see."

As Mona slipped out of her current uniform, revealing a plain black pair of spandex sports bra and undies, she grabbed the new uniform and slipped it on like it was second nature, tossing the old one on a counter so she could take it back to her quarters later. Slipping the tights on, then the bloomers and boots, she kept an eye on the simulation as she did so.

Finished changing, Mona hopped in the new uniform a bit and did a quick mid-air twirl, causing the skirt to flare out. "Very nice... Yeah, that energy barrier looks like it's warping space around them, if these readings are correct." Mona pointed to one of the back science consoles as she stepped into the holo-projection. She then turned and pointed to the helm. "Pilot is using a jinking corkscrew. I'm guessing to avoid the worst of it?" She then looked up at the ceiling dome and watched for any distortions. "Ceiling on the Oberth class is one of the weakest points. If we can see any..." Whatever she was looking for never happened as the recording ended with only a few bursts of static. "That's good at least. That means that normal windows are fine."

Glancing at the two superior officers, Mona decided she needed to explain. "In higher warp fields when you fly too close to spatial anomalies, you have to worry about warp distortion. Computer, return to time index 229 point 17." With a chirrup, the computer complied and she headed to one of the side consoles. "If you look here at the edges of these consoles, you can see that distortion." Pointing out the waviness of the console like she was, it was a bit obvious. "The same effect is happening on the opposite side of the bridge. But if you look at the GIANT CLEAR ALUMINUM DOME that's keeping the crew from being sucked into space and giving them a view of the stars, there's no such distortion. This distortion also clears up once the Commodore mentions the tractor beam."

"Computer, go to when the tractor beam is mentioned." After the computer chirruped and changed the holo-projection again. Mona then motioned around them. "Now what I want to know is what is actually causing that distortion... The field itself or the Oberth's engines... These patterns are pretty even but old Rigsby is at the helm. He's a hot shot and he'd be good enough to nail the space between distortions if there was a way to see them..."

"Or maybe..." Dox interjected. "If there's enough data in these records for us to find a way to detect these distortions. Gravimetric... Magnetic... Temporal... Whatever. If we can see them. Not just where they are, but if they're moving... Flowing...." Now looking at Ensign Gonadie intently and even a little excited as her mind raced. Her faced scrunched in as a question formed. "...do you think we could... ride them? The Hera, I mean. Reduce the risk of warp field distortion by forgoing the warp field entirely and using this ribbons shearing forces like a boat in a river? Thrusters and impulse bursts like a rudder but the distortions themselves as propulsion?"

Mona furrowed her brow as she thought that over. "Of we had a way to press back against them, sure... But more than likely they'd just press us out of the ribbon. As for seeing them..." Heading to one of the storage lockers that Mona still maintained in the office, she started rummaging in it for a case. "I promise I'll clean this out later..."

Eventually, the brightly colored lass finished bobbing around in the locker and came out with a case marked EXPERIMENT 992. Setting it on the desk, she popped it open and revealed a visor-like piece of headgear with circuits and wires hanging out the sides. It was obviously something she hadn't quite finished. "An old experiment of mine based on something the Dominion left behind. It kind of puts a view of the outside of the ship in your head. It's set up for my visual spectrum and I had gotten the migraines to mostly go away, but the sensory overload builds up over time and they still come back. I had a few of the other pilots test it and they found it a bit... Nauseating..."

Smiling broadly, Dox walked over to look at the experimental head gear. "Yes, exactly. If I could see everything and not just be limited to the screen and telemetry from the sensors in real time..." Trailing off again, Dox stopped and addressed the room. "Computer. Remove the visual facade of the Commodore's ship so was can see the projected images of the spacial anomaly in 360°, please." With a chirp, the projection. Of the ship shimmered away and it appeared as if the officers were somehow standing inside the swirling colors and energy or the spatial anomoly itself.

"Look at this. Even without being able to percieve your color spectrum, you can see how this energy is moving and flowing all around us." Melanie gestured broadly, then snapped back to face Rita Paris as a new thought burst into her brain. "We have metaphasic shielding. Commander... Could those shields be shaped. Formed to conform to these kinds of energy flows. Like an adapadable... Surface... The Hera could ride. To keep us from being pushed away?"

There was a flash of surprise on the commander’s face as she was suddenly called on the spot, but never one to shy from a challenge, Paris applied logical progression of thought to the matter. “Well, I read a little bit about cloaking devices, and they can be a shell or contoured to the hull. Which stands to reason that so long as we aren’t straying too far from the shape of the original… I mean, there’s a lot of cubic area to a sphere around the starship, so with the right programming, that should be entirely feasible. Ideally it would have to be calculated per shield generator, but I do know someone who can do such calculations very quickly,” she added, picking up a PaDD off the desk. “What shape did you have in mind? Teardrop or flat-bottomed long board?”

Tilting her head slightly, Dox was a bit confused by the references Commander Paris had just made. Growing up, isolated on a smuggling ship and raised Romulan didn't leave her with much knowledge of surfboard design. "Long Board?" She asked.

“Computer, please show a life-sized representation of a classic California long board surf board, circa 1965.” The computer obliged, bringing into being a bright blue board, nose slightly elevated and edges rounded, but while it was perhaps only half a meter wide, th4e idea was much easier to grasp with the image of an oblong 2 ½ meter surfboard in the flight control office of the starship 500 years out from the artifact Paris was referencing.

“That, Miss Dox, is a California long board. Now, we wouldn’t have the fin on the bottom,” the California-born and bred surfer girl flipped the board over to demonstrate the curved fin on the ventral facing, “but we might need one of those too. So, question stands- you want a board to work with for a constant, or something more astrodynamic like a teardrop shape?”

Focusing on the Holographic projections in front of them and ignoring the moment of slight embarrassment, Dox looked at both for a moment. "Hmm... The energy rippling appeared to be fairly tight and compressed." She turned to aim her thoughts at Ensign Gonadie. "We will have to run some computer simulations for sure..." Then turning back to Paris, "...but my gut says the longboard shape here will give the ripples too much area to push us out of control. This teardrop will be a rougher ride but I can compensate for that with the internal inertial dampeners and I think ill be able to manage my tighter control to keep us in the proverbial streams."

“I ain’t licked yet,” Paris responded. “Computer, remove the long board and please show Miss Dox a boogie board, circa 2000.” The computer complied, and in place of the 2 and a half meter board, one that was two-thirds of a meter long, but the same width with the upraised nose came into being. “Perhaps a bit more like this?”

A broad smile spread across Dox's face as she looked up at the projection. "Yes. I think that's the general idea. Tight and adaptable. But mirrored dorsal and ventral in case we need to maneuver upside down since this will be all around us."

“Just as easy. Computer adapt this shape, with ventral and dorsal fins, to a theoretical shield configuration for the Hera in miniature before me one meter in size. With that, a crude representation of the shield came up, in need of modification to accomplish what they were after. “Okay, that’s a start. Bring the curve of the forward ventral up to the lip of the saucer section… better, yes, like that. Give me some stabilizing fins port and starboard, near the aft of the nacelles… yes, like that.” Paris glanced over to Gonadie and dox, both of whom had far more technical expertise in this field she was certain. “Okay, so what are you two thinking here? So far this is apparently possible, even if the programming is going to be a pain in the rear.”

"We can refine it in the simulations, but I think we're on the right course." Dox replied, pausing to consider all the details running through her mind. Turning to look at the brilliantly colored Miradonian, Dox didn't want to be over confident considering the significant experience of the officers in the room. "I'd appreciate your input, Ensign Gonadie."

"Computer, load shield configuration Gonadie Delta Mala Three and place it over a similar model next to this one." Mona stepped around the current holo-display as the computer complied and made a second model, this time with an egg shaped shield with a reinforced indentation at the back and shield fins in an X pattern towards the rear. "I think it's got merit, but since I've done a lot of the math, maybe you might want a place to start?" Grinning like the canary that ate the cat, Mona stood there with one hand on her hip.

"We'll run them both through some sims, work out the kinks. Even with those fins, I'm concerned about uncontrolled roll in there." Dox was focused intensely on the multiple projections in the center of the room. "Something in the middle might be our answer. I need to check out that interface helmet and see how intense the nausea and migraines you mentioned are going to be. I can talk with Doctor Dael to see if there's anything they can do to contain any adverse effects so we can make this work."

Turning to Ensign Gonadie, Dox followed up. "Could you please take all of the available dates on the energy ribbon and program a computer sim so we can start some test runs of these. We're going to need to test all of our maneuvering options." Dox stood back, starting to pace slightly. "Thrusters, impulse, even directed push back from the tractor beams. The Commodore's ship was stable once it was caught in that other ships tractor beam." Dox stopped pacing to look back at Gonadie. "Thank you. I think we have a solid starting point to get a handle on what we need to do."

"Any time, Boss," Mona replied, already punching all the data into a PaDD.

Then Dox turned to Rita Paris with a somewhat more stern expression, while also trying not to blush as a result of being called boss. "What's our time table for mission preparedness, Commander?"

"We're headed for the galactic core. ETA, according to flight control, is 3.2 days to New Texas, a colony out here next to the galactic core that is our first stop for data on the situation on the ground. They've been praying to gods, and they are appearing. Even gods they started to make up. That's our first investigatory angle, then we'll be going surfing. So, call it three days of work until you don't have time for testing anymore."

"I'm not positive," Rita stepped over to one of the expanses of exposed space of the ribbon. "But I think... Computer, please speculate on the following theory. The tractor beam has spacetime distortion, if not mass. On the energy spectrum, it's acting like a forcefield projected at rang. Using the tractor beam on a widebeam setting, could a forcefield be projected alongside the thrusters to supply them with resistance to gain greater control and propellant out of the impulse engines?" Paris looked to the heavens expectantly as the computer worked.

It only took the computer a moment to come up with the answer. "Negative. The resulting thrust would rend the force field generators from their sockets."

Hearing the answer, Paris shrugged, unfazed. "Well we learn from what doesn't work as well. All right, it sounds like you two have a lot of work to do. Daily progress reports, and keep up the good work. You are already preparing to coordinate with medical, and I will run Miss Gonadie's shield configuration past the science and engineering team. I'm thinking it looks like an old-school bomshell- Ensign, good name, bad name...?"

"I don't think that translated well..." Mona looked at Rita with a sour look on her face. "i think you're a bombshell. this is Maybe Eggsurfer..."

"Maybe for now I'll present it to the science and engineering teams as Gonadie Delta Mala Three," Paris replied with a grin. "Computer, show me the stern hatch please, thank you," As the door leading deeper into the Hera appeared in the holographic representation, Paris strode toward it in that military stride of hers. "Keep me posted..."

"Aye, Commander." Dox replied, as Paris exited the Flight Control office.

"Computer, convert the math from my project to the new render, making appropriate modifications as needed," Gonadie requested. As the computer started the transfer and made a few edits to the render Rita had created, she walked around them both nodding. "Save the new render once completed. I'll run trials on both of these and see which one performs better and go from there."

"Okay... We have our work cut out for us. Three days isn't a lot of time, but it's better then nothing, so let's get to it." Dox followed up to Gonadie. "You get that sim prepared and let the computer run it's trial models. I'm going to configure this..." Holding Ensign Gonadie's expreimental head gear in her hands. "...Get it calibrated for me and start working out those kinks. We can touch base hourly to keep updated and hopefully be running full Sims before the end of shift."

Moving back to her desk, Dox placed the headgear in the center, with the visor facing her and turned her computer screen slightly towards her. "Computer, call up schematics and data on Ensign Gonadie's project, Experiment 992. Thank you." As the computer chirped in response and information began to fill the screen, Dox sat back and took a breath, thinking to herself.

"Okay, 'Chief'. Let's see if you can actually pull any of this off."