Outfitting Briefing

Posted on Fri Jan 11th, 2019 @ 8:55am by Lieutenant Commander Mnhei'sahe Dox & Commander Rita Paris

Mission: Section 31-B
Location: USS Hera, Deck 11, Security armory
Timeline: 2396, en route to the Section 31 base

If there was one thing that the newly promoted, full Lieutenant Mnhei'sahe "Melanie" Dox had learned in her time on the U.S.S. Hera, it was to always be ready for things to change. Today, that meant that the young part-Romulan flight chief checking the duty postings for that day and finding that her own schedule had been changed.

So, instead of heading to the Flight Control office, she was walking with a slightly quicker pace to the Security Armory on Deck 11 where she was now scheduled to report. While walking, the anxious Officer was typing away at her work PaDD, updating the flight crew rotations for the day and messaging the Assistant Flight Chief, Ensign Gonadie, to make sure she took over the office duties until she returned.

As she rounded the corridor and the Security Armory into view, she saw First Officer Rita Paris standing outside talking to 2 security officers, looking like she was showing them her vintage-styled type 2 phaser. The Commander had her usual bright smile on her face as she talked, but was wearing a black bodysuit with gold plated armor along her upper torso and her era's Starfleet emblem on her chest.

As Dox filed her reports and sent her message, she couldn't help but notice just how easy talking to the crewmembers of the Hera seemed to be for Rita Paris. Basic socialization was still a struggle for the nervous pilot and when she saw how natural connecting with people seemed to be came to Rita, it fueled her own sense of inadequacy even more than Paris' Amazonian figure did.

Plus there was the fact that the gold and black armor was an EVA suit, assuming a helmet came up to cover the head. Which meant they were going spacewalking... at warp...?

Catching sight of Lieutenant Dox, in her peripheral vision, she nodded to her and wrapped up her conversation. It was surprising to see her in action and act like 'one of the boys' with male crew members, but it struck the young pilot that Paris never seemed to have trouble getting anyone to listen to her. The friendly demeanor did a lot of the work, and as she flashed that dazzling smile, it clinched the deal. Laughing and clapping the security officer on the shoulder, It was clear they were sharing a joke, even though it was a violation of Starfleet policy for the superior officer to have violated her subordinate's space. Were the situations reversed it might not have been- yet he took it in stride, and the duo waved as the returned to their duties.

Striding over to the newly pointy-eared pilot. Paris seemed a bit shorter in the armor, though she lost nothing in impressive stature. If anything it made her more closely resemble a modern-day Valkyrie. A machete of sorts seemed to be attached to her back with the hilt sticking up over her left shoulder armor, while there was a cylindrical club strapped to her right thigh. When she walked, the footfalls were not the heavy thud one might expect from magnetic boots. In fact, her footfalls were quieter than normal. The armor itself didn't seem to make any sort of clanking either as the armored Rita Paris extended her hand in a handshake as she so often did.

"Welcome to the ship's armory, Lieutenant. I think it's time we suited you up for exploration and combat, so that's going to be your duty shift for today. Ready to boldly go?" There was the grin this time, not the dazzling smile. The grin from your big sister that said 'let's get in trouble'.

Returning the handshake, the knot in Dox's stomach loosened up just a bit as the situation clearly wasn't an emergency. "Aye Commander. I've filled the flight crew rotation on the way and informed Ensign Gonadie to hold down the fort."

"Good work," Paris nodded, beginning to move into the Armory with that martial stride. "So, first we have to get you fitted for the body suit. So you get to stand there for about three minutes with your arms out while you are measured holographically with a body suit replicated from the perfect measurements of the scanner. That will give the computer what it needs to produce the base body glove for the rest of the suit to connect with- a plugsuit, if you will, as all the armor plugs onto it. We'll get to that, as well as the customizable options for the hard points and the gear it is adapted to carry and you choosing a sidearm."

Following Paris' into the armory, Dox looked at her own body and her face dropped.

"But for now," the curvaceous commander- who still managed to have a great figure even in a somewhat bulky hardsuit- paused before a cylindrical chamber lit from the inside with clear walls. "Here's that scanner. You can wear your uniform for this, the scans know the difference. Future tech," Paris grinned as she gestured to the scanning booth.

"That... That is a good thing." Dox squinched her face ever so slightly trying not to look as uncomfortable with having to have to wear a body glove on her short, rotund frame. She stepped into the chamber, holding her arms out as described. "Like this?"

"That's it. Computer, please engage scanning protocols for MACO power assist EVA underbody armor fitting." As Paris called out instructions, the circular scanning chamber activated and while there was nothing visible save the white light of thew scanners, Dox noticed that no one else was present save the two of them. Which seemed odd, as security always seemed to be people bustling to and fro.

"It seems remarkably quiet in here today, Comm..." Dox cut herself off mid sentence as a thought occurred to her. "Did you clear the room because I'm going to have to change into this suit in here?"

"Maybe." Paris shrugged, leaning against the bulkhead and crossing her arms, which looked a bit funny over the tortoise-shell like clamshell that comprised the upper torso of the armor. "For what it's worth, I understand having body issues. Mine's a little different- for most of my adult life, people pretty much always want to see me naked. Which is uncomfortable for me, because the age I came from wasn't quite so enlightened, so I'm a little... prudish, I suppose. So knowing people want to see me in the altogether makes me self-conscious. Especially if it is in front of the crew, because stories abound about me- they always abounded back in the day, and I am sure I attract plenty of attention and scuttlebutt. Part of the looks."

"Not exactly the same as your particular feelings about being seen in public in a skintight suit," the curvaceous commander admitted, "but connecting that personal knowledge to you likely preferring your privacy is one I can understand. I'd offer you some reassurance about how good you look and that you are beautiful the way you are, but we both know the truth that we are our own worst critics. So external validation is a real pisser, because you immediately discount it in your own mind, because we always see all of the flaws, seldom the good whole."

Smiling sincerely and without her characteristic anxiety, Dox replied. "Thanks, Commander. I appreciate it." Sighing lightly, she continued "How much longer is the scan?"

"One point four three minutes," Paris responded, checking the comm unit on her wrist. "So, now that you've come out and been around people with the new ears, how's it feeling? Do you find yourself looking to see if people are staring or are you disappointed when people seem not to notice?"

Chuckling slightly, Dox replied. "It's me, so I'm dissapoined if nobody notices and irritatated if they stare and embarrassed if they mention them, even complimentarily. Standard operating procedure."

Feeling comfortable around the First Officer, Dox elaborated a bit. "I'm just trying to not dwell on that. It's not always easy to, but it's... weird. It's like... even when people do stare, it still feels better to have what I see in the mirror match what I always saw in my head, if that makes any sense."

"Computer, please give me a lifesize holographic replica of file PR11-ALT, standing 1 meter to my left. please." As the holographics hummed to life, a human blonde girl materialized beside Rita. Her blonde hair was pulled back into a severely controlled ponytail, and while she was the same height as Rita, she was very thin. Even her rib cage seemed to small for her body, while her head, hands and feet all seemed to be somehow too large for the frail thin girl, whose head sat atop her body as nearly the biggest part of it. A smile was there, but it was hesitant and self-conscious as she hunched a bit as she looked out at the holocamera. She was clad in a 'St. Eustacius' basketball uniform, with droopy athletic socks and athletic shoes. Tucked under one arm was a basketball.

"This is me... well, the local version, but this is pretty spot-on. Age 11 I started growing, and my body couldn't keep up. I hit 177cm by the age of twelve, but still weighed only 38kg. I got to enjoy the nickname 'Beanpole' until I hit puberty at 16, and by the time I turned 18 the only people who called me beanpole were the jerks. I was clumsy, uncoordinated and overall miserable. Throughout all of that, I felt like an alien in my own body, which had done something weird. I went from being this little princess to this big gawky stork over a few months, so maybe that's kind of like what you're feeling? And the scan is done, you can put your arms down and come out now."

Dropping her arms somewhat comically, Dox stepped down. "I guess it's a pretty universal feeling, sometimes." She smiled as she stepped over to look up at the holographic young Rita Paris. "Feeling like you're in the wrong body."

Turning to face the real Commander Paris, Dox stood a bit straighter and folded her hands behind her back in a semi relaxed but still professional posture as she shifted back to the business at hand. "So, what's the next step?"

"Next the industrial replicator over there spits out your bodysuit, and there are changing rooms over there. It's actually a surprisingly giving fabric until it's activated, so it isn't hard to get into. So, pick up your bundle of black and I'll give you some time to change before we move on to the hard carapace and the customization options." Paris explained. "And you're very generous, I realize my analogy was crap, there," Rita chuckled. "Computer end, image display please."

Stepping over to grab the freshly replicated body suit, Dox responded. "Well, it doesn't need to be a one to one comparison to get the meaning across." Smiling back at Commander Paris, she added, "Or the intention. Thanks."

Grabbing the newly replicated garment, Dox stepped into the dressing room. "Be right out."

A couple of minutes later, Dox stepped out in the snug, form fitting black bodysuit and held her arms out a bit, presenting herself. She was still feeling a little self-conscious about what her more than ample rear and thick stomach looked like in the revealing outfit, but Paris' efforts to put Dox at more easy about her body were bearing fruit as Dox let out a somewhat playful "Ta da!" with a smirk.

"I'd ask about the fit, but I have the utmost faith in the Hera to scan and produce," Rita patted the bulkhead fondly, as she often did when speaking of the starship as an entity, which she often did. "If you like, we can skip the customization loadout so that you can review those options later and just get you set up in a core MACO EVA and getting used to the core arms and armor. Your call, Miss Dox? What strikes your fancy?"

Looking down at herself, somewhat impressed with the fit herself, Dox agreed. "Yeah, it's actually surprisingly comfortable. But yes, I'm good with skipping ahead to the function and worrying about customization later."

"Outstanding," the combat veteran of dozens of battles replied with a friendly smile. "So while you were getting dressed, I took the liberty of preprogramming you a basic armor. There's a specific way to climb in and out of the breastplate, while the arms, legs and boots are pretty intuitive. Or you can have the computer transport it onto you, which again, she does with alarming precision. Careful about asking for your armor- she interprets that literally unless you specify a holographic reproduction of your armor. But the point is would you like to learn how to climb in or learn how to climb out of it when we're done?"

Thinking for a second, Dox replied while rolling her shoulders to stretch them out in the new undersuit. "I suppose I should learn every way to do it, as you never know when the computer might not be available to do it for me." Pausing for another second, she added. "And it sounds like I'll also need to learn the right way to ask."

Standing up straight and stepping a few feet back from Rita, Dox looked up, raising her arms from her sides. "Computer, please initiate armor up procedure as programmed for Lieutenant Melanie Dox." She squinted slightly, hoping she had asked correctly and a little worried about Paris' slightly cryptic warning.

Seconds later, the computer chirped and with a melodic hum and a shimmer of lights, plates of crimson armor materialized on the young officer as she stood there.

"The hard plates can resist ballistic impact, thus the rounded shapes," Paris lectured as she checked the fit, while Dox moved about experimentally. "Designed primarily to protect you from micrometeors, they also offer considerable resistance to ballistic impact. They are also covered in multiple layers of a refractive coating that makes them somewhat resistant to energy weapons such as phaser or disruptor fire. Your strength is enhanced by a factor of three in the armor, as are your reflexes, which can be disconcerting. You can leap about like a grasshopper, though landing can be challenging. The helmet has the visor attachment as well as the headset, all of which are redundancies of the HUD in the helmet. All of which is an interface for a full tricorder loadout, as well as your vitals being monitored and likely transmitted back to the Hera."

"All of this can make you considerably more effective on the battlefield, but always remember- first and foremost, this armor was designed to be a spacesuit. It is designed to enable our fragile pressurized forms to survive the decompression of the void of space. It does not make you Supergirl nor Iron Man. You are just a little bit better in the armor, and augmentations will only amplify the actions you take, which need to be smart. Does that make sense?" Paris wrapped up the lecture. It was important to her that the young officer understand just what the MACO armor could and could not do, and thinking of it as a tough spacesuit seemed to set the right tone she thought.

The specifics of the pop-culture references were lost on the part-Romulan pilot, but the meaning was fairly clear. In spite of the density of the armored pieces, Dox felt almost no resistance as she moved her arms confirming the speed and strength enhancements Paris mentioned.

"I believe so, yes. At least largely in theory at this point." Dox replied as she continued to move and stretch in the armor. "It's remarkably easy to move in, especially when compared to anything I used in training at the academy. This is light years beyond and environment suits OR tactical armor I've ever worn before. I can absolutely feel the enhancement effect in just basic movements."

"All righty then. Now that you're outfitted, what do you say we go see the holographically simulated galaxy and shoot at things?" Paris asked with a mischievous grin.

Returning the smile with one of her own, Dox replied. "Aye, Commander."