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Turbulence in Command

Posted on Sun Jan 20th, 2019 @ 11:43pm by Lieutenant Commander Mnhei'sahe Dox & Lieutenant Asa Dael

Mission: Section 31-B
Location: Flight Control office
Timeline: 2395

As the chief flight control officer of the U.S.S. Hera, Lieutenant Mnhei'sahe Dox spent most of her time at the helm of the ship. It's where she felt the most comfortable and the duty she preferred. But being a department head meant having other duties such as overseeing every other pilot on the ship. But overseeing others was a duty she found harder than ever in the wake of the HERA's most recent mission.

Today, this duty meant performance reviews, evaluations and interviews. As such, Assistant Chief Ensign Mona Gonadie was at the helm and Dox was neck deep in a stack of crew files and the results of a series of combat simulations performed over the last three days.

For reasons the young part-Romulan pilot could not comprehend, the First Officer of the Hera, Rita Paris, was grooming her for command duties and she didn't want to disappoint her friend yet again. So she dug in deep to the files on her computer.

Today, she was reviewing the files of three young ensigns, all of whom dreamed of flying a starship. One was a recent transfer to the Hera with exemplary numbers and one of the best simulation records Dox had seen. A young pilot only a year out of the academy named Anthony Hovind.

Of course, simulations were a far cry from the stresses of the real thing and academic performance often didn't line up with real duties. Real duties were where people died and the thought caused Dox to pause for a moment as she thought back to the Section 31 base and the security personnel that died under her. Taking a breath, she brought herself back to the moment.

On the files in front of her, two of her subordinates had reported that this new transfer was reluctant to take basic orders and tended to do things how he chose to do them. So before crew rotations we're to be scheduled, Dox wanted sit down and talk to the younger Ensign.

At 09:00 the door to the Flight Control Office chimed announcing the new pilots interview appointment. She took a deep breath and composed herself. She wasn't going to let officers under her not know what they were doing.

"Come." Dox called from her desk as she cleared the files of the other officers from her screen. The door opened and the focus of her attention walked in.

The Ensign had a physique only known by the truly young, but the early signs of adult metabolism showed around his middle that was beginning to show the early signs of a beer belly. Anthony was about 6 foot tall with sandy blonde hair, grey-blue eyes and a cocky smile. He looked like the high school athlete, or perhaps someone who would be comfortable dealing with the shadiest Ferngei.

Hovind swaggered into Dox's office with the bravado of a man expecting a commendation from a thankful public. He sat unceremoniously on the seat opposite his commanding officer and said, "Yes? Did you need something?"

Immediately, Dox began to see what the problem was. Without lifting her head from her screen, she rolled her eyes up to meet Hovind's. "Yeah. When you see the waitress could you tell her I'd like a Romulan Ale."

Then, in an exaggerated motion, Dox sat up and looked around the room. "Wait, I assumed we were in Ten-Forward and not my office." Then Dox tapped the small stylus in her hand on the rim of the saucer of the small model of the Constitution-Class starship left on her desk from when this was Rita Paris' office.

"No, this appears to be my office, Mr. Hovind. So, maybe you'd like to try this again?" Her tone was now Stern and there was an edge to her deeper than expected voice. She arched a pointed eyebrow at the arrogant Ensign.

With a roll of his eyes, Hovind sat stood up and said, "Ensign Hovind reporting as ordered ma'am. May I sit?" His tone was bordering on insolence, and it was obvious he found the formality of the meeting useless. After all, he was a good pilot, what else mattered? That was for the dredges of Starfleet. Let security worry about all that....he had better things to do.

looking up the aggravated Ensign, Dox sat back straight and crossed her fingers in front of her on her desk with as neutral of an expression on her face as was.possible. "No, Ensign. Before that I'd like to ask if you know why I've asked to see you today?"

Shrugging, Hovind said, "I dunno. Shift change?"

"No, Mr. Hovind." Dox said sharply as she stood up from her desk. Crossing her hands behind her back, the short, squat young Romulan walked out the the front to stand next to the Ensign. "THIS is why you are here." The aggravated department chief looked up at the significantly taller man, tilting her head.

"Duty on a starship is significantly more for a pilot then simply flying a ship. There is a strict heirarchy and protocols in place wherein every officer and enlisted crewmembers contributes as part of a greater whole. And when an officer feels like they are... above that heirarchy... It does far more than inconvenience and disrupt your fellow crewmembers."

Walking behind him as she talked, Dox continued noticing his gaze seemed to be focused randomly on the ceiling. "It can literally cost lives. But that doesn't seem to be a concern to you enough to PAY ATTENTION to your superior."

"Sit." Dox hissed.

Hovind's ears had turned bright red, although with either embarrassment or fury was hard to discern. Although his gaze was no longer unfocused, he was clearly not best pleased. He sat down hurriedly, and crossed his arms in front of his chest. Nonspeaking, he waited for Dox to continue. It was clear the ensign felt he was the aggrieved party here and was just playing along with his superiors whims.

Standing over him, Dox folded her arms behind her back. Her posture was rigid and she looked down at him sternly. It was body language that she wasn't consciously aware was that of her own mother now coming to her like it was second nature.

"You have skill, but so does every pilot under the command of this office, or they wouldn't be on the Hera." She tilted her head, reading the petulance in his body language.

"But I will not tolerate insubordination or disrespectful conduct. I will not have it nor will I accept it directed at your crewmates." She stepped around to her desk, standing beside it now but still looking down on the young Ensign.

"You have an attitude problem, Mr. Hovind. I've noticed it in how you choose to manage your duties. You seem to feel that manning the Shuttlebay duty stations, and maintaining the weekly maintenance and safety checks on our shuttles and Runabouts are not worthy of your time and it has effected the flow of work in this department. Your reports are sloppy and often incomplete. When you choose to do things as you see fit and on your own schedule, if at all, it disrupts the ships schedules, inconveniences your fellow officers, and it makes me upset."

"I would very much prefer that things run smoothly here, Mr. Hovind. I'd like to know if you feel you are capable of bringing your performance up to the level it needs to be at to serve on this Starship." She looked at the Ensign, tilting her head.

""Yes ma'am," he hissed. The words were right, but the tone was still lacking, "I am confident I can perform my duties as assigned. Obviously Starfleet agrees or they wouldn't have posted me here. Honestly, I expected....more."

Feeling remarkably little sympathy for Hovind's childish outbursts, Dox simply smiled. "Well, Starfleet isn't here to see how you actually perform in the field. But I am, and they will be seeing my reports on that performance, or the lack thereof. That will depend on you, but right now I'm not seeing any indication that you're even aware of the problem."

Walking back behind her desk, Dox sat back down and punched a few commands into her computer. After a few seconds of extremely awkward silence, she turned the screen around to face him.

"This is your current duty roster." The screen was largely blank. "As it stands, I don't feel confident you are capable of properly performing the tasks that have been your responsibility."

Spinning the screen back around, she tented her fingers in front of her and sighed. "I don't like having to have this conversation, but you need to understand that this ship only functions when we all work towards the same goal. And if your goal is simply... Yourself... then you don't understand what Starfleet actually is."

Her tone shifted as she wanted to try and turn the situation around. "I'd like to see you behind the controls of one of these Runabouts, or even at the helm." Dox gestured towards the window to the flight deck behind them. "You have the skills and the drive, but I'm concerned you don't have the temperament. But that's something we can work on if you're willing to realize that I'm not here to be your enemy or stand in your way."

"You're standing in your own way, right now. Do you understand?" Dox was now feeling frustrated. She felt like she was failing to reach the young pilot and didn't know what the best option was.

With a sigh, Hovind deflated a bit. As if realizing he was showing weakness, he sat back up and spread his legs even wider in the chair. In the process of doing so, he gave a slight abdominal thrust, a cocky attitude which Dox would surely notice. However, he seemed to remember himself before speaking and pasted on what was clearly meant to be a charming smile.

"Sure, I get it. I won't make things harder on you, I know it must be hard to be in charge with those ears. Not that I mind Romulans, one of my best friends growing up was Romulan. I think it makes you...exotic. So sure, I'll do what ya' need me to," he concluded with a wink.

For a second, Dox just stared blankly at the peacocking display she had just witnessed. Her cheeks became flush green, but it wasn't with embarrassment as her eyes narrowed and she considered simply replacing the exercise dummy in her quarters with him and practicing every particularly vicious Llaekh-ae'rl blow she knew until his liver popped and his trachea collapsed. 'That would be cruel to Asa.' she thought.

Instead of screaming at him or simply kicking him out of her office, she sighed and took a breath, trying desperately to remember the medatative breathing techniques Sonak had been teaching her as she burried her face in the palm of her hand for a moment before refocusing on the man child sitting opposite of her.

"Until further notice, you are on active suspension of duty, Mr. Hovind. So congratulations, you no longer have to perform any of the duties you found beneath you. I will be filing a report recommending you be removed from this Starship pending diciplinary action and I will be suggesting that the ships Counselor speak with you as well." As her blood continued to boil, she did everything in her power to not simply scream at him. She had put up with behavior like that and worse at the academy but couldn't believe it was sitting right in front of her, splaying and somehow believing it was an impressive act. It was behavior that reminded her of the cavalry machismo of the ships former Security Investigator, Alex Sexton.

"I can't comprehend how you managed to make it to a starship with this childish behavior, but if I have any say in the matter your career will not be advancing without some extreme course correction at the severely damaged helm you call a brain."

Shooting back up from her seat, Dox stood ramrod straight with her hands behind her back, her face a virtual mask of her authoritarian mother's "But as of right now, I don't see that happening. I don't see a Starfleet officer. And I certainly don't see a man. I see a impotent child wearing their parents clothes, pretending to be an adult."

Her voice had taken on a low gravel as she fought to contain her anger. "Get out of my office, Mr. Hovind. And I would also recommend getting out of that uniform until you remember what it stands for. You disgrace it."

The ensign stood up, utilizing his full height to loom over the petite commanding officer. Any joviality was gone from his countenance, and the aggression he felt was clear on his face. Hovind placed his hands on Dox's desk, staking a claim in her space and bracing himself against the metaphorical onslaught of Dox’s anger.

In a booming voice, he bellowed, “How dare you. So, shall we discuss one anothers appearance? Shall I tell you how I see you? Because I see a half breed disgrace of a commanding officer who throws a hissy fit to demand respect instead of earning it. I tried to be nice to you, but you immediately make the discussion into a personal attack. Instead of listening to a member of your staff telling you how they feel they could improve, you launch into a tirade and call them a disgrace. You want to know how I got this posting? By being better than everyone I trained with. By knowing more than them, by adapting better than them, and by looking like the face of Starfleet. What did you do? Fly in a few circles?” he concluded with a sneer. Through the course of the ensign’s speech he had begun leaning more and more over the desk, and his face had turned a bright red as he was all but nose to nose with her.

Meeting his angry gaze without blinking, Dox leaned in to all but close the tiny Gap between the two. Her voice was flat and forecfull. "Mr. Hovind, a transcript of this meeting will be available for review in your reprimand. If you feel inclined to pay attention to it, perhaps you will find my attempts at showcasing where and what you need to improve to be an officer in this department."

Now her voice had sunk back into the gravily hiss from before. "Now, remove your hands from my desk and remove yourself from my sight.

"Gladly," he replied flatly, brushing his hands across her desk, knocking a PaDD and stylus to the ground, turning to storm out in a fit.

"Computer, lock office door until further notice." As Hovind approached the door, it now failed to open. Dox stood at her desk with her hands behind her back. "Let's try this again. Turn around, replace the items on my desk as you found them, and then you may leave."

Silently, Hovind turned and picked up the detritus from the floor, placing it unceremoniously on Doxs desk. When he was done he stood silently facing her, hands behind his back.

Wanting to try and de-escalate the tension, if only a slight amount, Dox allowed her posture to relax a bit and smiled, albiet stiffly. "Thank you, Ensign. I hope we can sit down to discuss this again after some time is taken to reflect and review."

The young Flight Control Chief felt the knot in her stomach flipping in circles like a ship listing out of control as she spoke, doing everything she could the keep her emotions in check and her face neutral. She pressed a button on her desk or and with a chirp, the doors to the office hissed open. "Thank you, you're dismissed."

Hovind turned on his heels and silently stalked out of the office. Seconds later the office doors hissed closed as Dox flumped hard into her chair.

Folding her arms on her desk before her, she sunk her head hard into the pit formed between them with a mild thud and she groaned loudly. Pulling her head up enough to look at her desk, Dox focused on the small model of the U.S.S. Exeter on her desk.

Sighing, the exhausted young Chief felt tears welling up in her eyes as the rush of anxiety, anger and fear brought up in the meeting began to overwhelm her as she dwelled on how badly that had went. "Still think I'm the right woman for this job, Commander? Imirrhlhhse."

Cursing at herself in Riham, Dox tried to imagine how that.could have gone worse as she cried softly for a moment before wiping her face and composing herself for duty again reluctantly.

 

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