The Paris Protocols

Posted on Sat Jan 26th, 2019 @ 7:06pm by Lieutenant Commander Mnhei'sahe Dox & Commander Rita Paris

Mission: Section 31-B
Location: Flight Control office
Timeline: 2396, en route to Earth for Shore leave

From behind her desk in the Flight Control Office, Lieutenant Mnhei'sahe Dox was leaned in close to her computer screen, elbows on the desk. The young red-headed Romulan chief was deep in thought over a project on her screen titled 'The Paris Protocols'.

It was an idea she had begun nursing over a month ago during the mission to the Worldship that required an emergency beam out of First Officer Rita Paris. Dox had watched the security footage of the event from the Hera's main transporter room multiple times. And every time, it filled her with an absolute horror she couldn't ignore.

Every senior officer on the ship was briefed regarding what was referred to as Rita Paris' 'transporter allergy'. But Mnhei'sahe Dox had heard the stories directly from the source. Of a transporter sabotaged by Paris' own father that had essentially killed her, leaving her as non-corporeal energy. Trapped within the warp field of her starship, unable to affect the world or interact with anyone, Paris spent five long years as what was essentially a ghost. While she was eventually recovered, her structure was fundamentally altered by the experience, which made transporting a potentially deadly nightmare for her. Another accident had catapulted her nearly one hundred and thirty years into the future, and into another dimension. The dimension in which she now resided. This dimension.

Her last transport was a more controlled affair, but still a horror show. Lieutenant Sonak, the Hera's Chief Science Officer and Paris' husband, had affixed her with a specialized transponder to boost and clarify her signal as he held her in his arms, but neither were enough. The transport had taken over ten full seconds as Rita felt each molecule pulled from her bit by bit and transformed into energy, then back again. The agony was seen clearly across her face as she emitted the most horrifying wail Dox had ever heard. It was barely recognizable as a human sound, more akin to the shriek of tortured, twisting metal than a scream. To recall it now still brought tears to the young pilot's eyes.

In the few short months that Dox had been serving on the Hera, Rita Paris had become her closest friend and more. Dox thought of the woman as a sister, and she had no intention of letting her endure such an experience again if she could help it. As head of the flight control department, that meant she could.

On her computer were a detailed series of plans and proposals the young pilot had been working on in her spare time for weeks, to be able to evacuate Rita Paris from virtually any given situation without the need for beaming. Of course, most of these plans would involve either herself or her assistant and fellow pilot, Mona Gonadie, to put themselves in potential extreme risk.

That was the part over which Dox suspected that Rita Paris was going to raise an objection. And since any proposal from a department head had to be reviewed by the First Officer, Dox was nervous..

But Mnhei'sahe Dox was pretty much always nervous, so she would push past that to get this done. Saving the file onto a PaDD, she prepared a message to send to the Hera's First Officer requesting a meeting to make a department presentation.

From: LT Mnhei'sahe Dox. Chief Flight Control Officer.

To: CDR Rita Paris. First Officer, U.S.S. Hera.

Re: Time request for in-person review of enhanced and revised emergency crew retrieval protocols, pending executive approval.

After lingering over the message for a while, rewriting and rewording it, Dox girded her proverbial loins and pressed 'send'.

The answer came 13 nerve-wracking minutes later, as Commander Rita Paris strode through the doorway of the Chief Flight Control Officer’s office. “You rang, Miss Dox? I caught your message while I was on my rounds, and as this is a request for a face-to-face, I thought I’d cut to the chase and pop in. Emergency crew retrieval protocols, eh? You have some ideas brewing, Lieutenant?”

As usual, the Commander was in a cheerful good mood, and if it had registered on her that this was primarily about her and her transporter allergy, it didn’t show on her smiling and unconcerned expression.

Standing up from her desk, Dox straightened her uniform tunic and took a calming breath. The young pilot learned on her first day on board that Rita Paris could read through any attempts she made to conceal her emotions better then a Betazoid Poker champ. As such, Dox had stopped trying to conceal her emotions around Paris.

"Yes, Commander. Thank you for making time for me." Mona Gonadie was on bridge duty helming the ship and the two women were alone, but due to the nature of what Dox wanted to propose, she had one extra step to take.

Looking up, Dox spoke to the room. "Computer, privacy please." It was a simplified instruction she had pre-programed that locked the main doors and polarized the large window to the flight deck turning it from clear to a frosted white with a chirp.

"Not trying to be cryptic, Commander. But the nature of this proposal is currently something I've only worked on in private as... well... it directly..." Dox stuttered, a little nervous. "It's about you, Commander."

Nodding her approval at the privacy protocols which she herself had never considered when it had been her office, the anachronistic astronaut crossed the room to take a seat in one of the chairs opposite Dox’ desk. “All right, Miss Dox, what’s on your mind? It’s just you and I here, and… ah, evacuation protocols. Why Lieutenant, are you making plans to dust me off in case of emergency as an alternative to transporting?”

The bemused smile might have been sarcastic, but instead, it was heartfelt. With the last piece of the puzzle in place it was clear that the Commander was touched by the helmsman’s concern.

"Multiple plans and options, Commander." Dox said, sitting back down and turning the screen on her desk to face Paris' seat.

"Lieutenant Sonak and Lieutenant Junior Grade Dael continue to try and find ways to make transporting a safe option, but I'm operating from the position that there simply isn't one, period. As such, I've been collecting a series of evacuation options for different scenarios. Most of these will eventually require consultation with Thex and Ensign Gonadie, but currently I've kept my plans private so as to maintain privacy."

Looking at Paris with a touch of concern that was largely overwhelmed by her focus, Dox continued. "As the Hera currently has none, I've prepared a requisition request for a number of type 15 shuttles as they are currently the smallest shuttles available. Based on scans of the area I've reviewed, a type 15 deployed could have easily made it to your location on the Worldship with more than enough time for a safe evacuation."

Given the formal language, the use of full titles and the stiffness the little lieutenant was expressing, it was clear that the portly pilot was uncomfortable discussing the topic. Paris debated whether to keep it formal or casual, but as she had been called to the meeting and not visa-versa, she followed Dox’ lead on this one and kept it formal. Tapping her way through the options, she nodded thoughtfully.

“It appears you have composed a number of scenarios and plans for a wealth of possibilities, Lieutenant. Well done. What can I do to assist, or is it just my approval for submission to the Captain that you are seeking from this meeting?” While her tone was calm, beads of sweat were still forming on Paris’ brow. While discussing transporting and the various situations in which she tended to find herself were anxiety-inducing, she could keep her cool and discuss this like a responsible executive with dispassionate tones and a clinical perspective. Being married to a Vulcan had its advantages.

But one thing Mnhei'sahe Dox was an expert in even more than flying was anxiety, and she was picking up the signals from her friend and Commander. So she shifted the more formal tone she had taken. "I'm sorry, I know that even discussing this topic is beyond difficult, Commander... Rita."

The junior officer relaxed more in her seat. "But to make all this happen, I will need more help from you then just permission." Then Dox stood up and walked over to the center of the room towards the Holographic emitters. "Computer. Project 'Paris Protocol 2', please."

The lights in the room dimmed as a projection of a wireframe spacecraft appeared. It was massive for a projection but filled only half of the room from floor to ceiling. "I did some research, and during the Reman occupation of Romulus, the Enterprise was engaged with an experimental craft called the Scimitar. During that engagement, two Enterprise officers trapped on the Scimitar took a Reman Scorpion. A small, two person fighter, and successfully navigated the ship through the doors and corridors of the Scimitar to escape."

"That's what inspired this. It's purely theoretical at this point, but it's a two person escape ship. Heavily armored with an emphasis on shielding and maneuverability. Similar sensor pack to our EVA suits for interior ship mapping. A pilot and navigator slash tactical position. No warp capabilities, however. And because of that, this can be beamed as close to your position as is safe for evac."

Dox looked back at Rita as she talked. "Theoretically, this could punch through the hull of the Hera if you needed to get out of a ship in a hurry."

A smile graced the face of the first officer as she considered the sleek and stylish craft. Now came the particulars. “So are you proposing we pick one of these up to have on hand in case of emergency to beam it into the trouble spot, or are you proposing that we build our own Federation version?”

Dox smiled a little in response. "Both, actually. I'm confident that with Captain Telvan's contacts, we could get our hands on a Scorpion. But ultimately, I'd like to construct our own to these specs. This could fit through our doors and corridors. We'd bang around on the cornering, but it's small enough. Plus, ideally one of three people would be flying this. Myself, Mona or you."

Gesturing at the holographic projection to reduce it's size to 50%, Dox changed the projection to remove the ship’s skin to show the cockpit. "I would want to work with you to design the perfect pilot interface."

“Mmmm, I’m a pilot from the days of rocker switches and knobs. Ensign Gonadie would be the ideal candidate to help you design a good piloting interface, although I would be more than happy to offer input and observations and test piloting. Also, never discount the Captain piloting her- she’s a handy pilot as well, and she does get a little hands-on when one of her crew is in trouble,” Paris reminded the chief helmsman. “I’d recommend you install a tractor beam, because sometimes you don’t have time to stop on a rescue. Ideally she should be big enough to accommodate EVA suits, because that sort of rescue might be needed. Aerodynamic for atmospheric flight, and with a little jumper like this, I myself would prefer a stick and throttle. I suppose she’ll need a bit of firepower as well…”

Pausing, Paris laughed merrily, realizing she was contradicting herself. “Okay, maybe the antique does have an idea or two to contribute after all…”

Listening, Dox was taking notes, writing with her fingers through the interactive hologram interface as she put a slight grin on her face. "More than one or two. I've been working on this solo on my spare time for a few weeks, and it's hard to view a project like this from the outside without feedback. And in this instance, your feedback is the most important."

"Put a decent nav computer in her for warp microhops and it'd be damn near teleportation. I'll bet the computers can manage that sort of precision these days, can't they? Can you make a warp core that small?" the golden girl orbited the idea, holding her elbow in one hand and stroking her chin with the other. Looking through the model at the lieutenant, the displaced dame made eye contact with the Romulan firebird.

"All this just to bail me out, because transporters don't agree with the Commander? There's a lot of thought and work here, Miss Dox. I mean, don't get me wrong- I love the idea and I'm excited about it, but you're a little freaked out." Paris paced another step, then two, muttering as ideas occurred to her. "Maybe add some inertial dampener brakes so she can stop on a dime if you are going to be maneuvering in tight quarters. Make them independent with four emitters and you'll be able to pull crazy spins in tight spaces. What brought this all on, if I may ask?"

Looking back at Rita through the Hologram, Dox went slightly rigid. She knew the question was coming but still had been dreading it. She assumed a somewhat forced posture as she responded. "Officially, I consider transporting to represent an unreasonable risk to the health and safety of the ship's First Officer that required additional viable options be made available for safe extraction during dangerous missions where your presence is required. That's what it says on page one of the Proposal document."

Then Dox's shoulders slumped slightly as her face softened. "But... off the record... I know I'm just the flight chief, but I do something at the end of my shift. I read every department report I have clearance to see. And... and I watch every video file attached to those reports."

Biting her lip slightly, Dox let out a light sigh. "I watched the security recordings from the transporter room, Rita. I watched them over a dozen times. It's one thing to hear the stories. To see the fear you try so hard to hide when you talk about it. But... what I saw on that footage. What I heard I never want you to have to be afraid of that again. I can't let you have to go through that... even the idea of that, if there's the slightest thing I can do to prevent it. And in that means building this and flying it through a Borg cube to get you then that's what I'll do."

Taking a breath, Dox's voice trembled slightly as she spoke, but she pushed through with every bit of resolve she had in her. In her mind this wasn't an option. Rita was not going near a transporter if there was anything she could do to stop it.

There was a moment of silence as Paris considered what she'd heard, and the tenor of the voice that had relayed it all. When she spoke, the voice of the throwback officer was low and quiet. "Ah... I'm sorry you had to see that. Now I've traumatized three of my shipmates with my little talent with transporters."

Chuckling mirthlessly, Paris' eyes sought out those of the pilot.

"It used to be everybody knew 'Lieutenant Commander Paris hates beaming' and that was it, and weird things only happened when I beamed sometimes. Like when I ended up in the mirror universe with two gals from this universe, and we had to steal a starship to get home. Or the time when I was visible, but intangible and silent because air wasn't passing over my vocal chords. That time was weird. Or the time I got split into two Ritas, one good, one evil..." As she spoke, Paris tried to make light of the number of traumas that had been visited upon her in transporter rooms. But the quaver in her voice that was a little too close to hysteria belied her attempted calm, and her face was slick with perspiration. Because pressure, danger or life and death situations didn't make Paris sweat- but transporters did.

"But I'm the Commander now, so I can't, I can't let people see me like that, suh-screaming because I can feel it, I can feel it all and it really, really hurts so badly and I just want it to stop but it goes on forever and... and..." Realizing she'd run a little bit into crazy town, Rita stopped to take a deep breath and center herself.

Stepping around the projection to stand in front of Paris, Dox instinctively reached out and grabbed Rita's hands. "No, no. Out there you're the Commander. So just breathe, and look at me."

She didn't know where the words were coming from but she just let them out without concern. "Right here... right now, you're just Rita and I'm just Mnhei'sahe. I wish I could take that pain from you but I can't. I would take every bit of it to take that hurt out of your eyes so you'd never have to be afraid of it again. But I can be here for you like you've been here for me. And I will bust my ass to make sure every molecule of you stays right where it belongs. And in the mean time, it's just us, so you feel however you need to feel."

"Haha!" Paris barked a little laugh, then nodded as she mopped at her nose with the back of her hand, then mopped at her eyes with the palm. "It's... yeah. Thank you... it's kind of gotten worse since I got here, and I worry that... see, it sounds really crazy when you say it out loud, but I'm just so afraid one is going to... that the transporter's going to get me. And if it does, what next? Will I end up a ghost again? Shot 200, 300 years into the future, or the past? In another, different dimension? Halfway across the galaxy? Deep space with no suit? Maybe turned inside out on a transporter pad somewhere?"

It was abundantly clear that the transporter-phobic officer had considered a great number of possibilities of what might happen to her, all of which might have sounded implausible until one listened to her litany of transporter tragedies. Or heard the unearthly soul-shattering banshee scream that echoed eerily throughout the room when she transported.

Nodding her head, and forcing herself to be strong and not cry, Dox looked up into Rita's crystal blue eyes. They were glossy from the emotions welling up inside of Paris' heart. But Dox just stared with a thin smile. "Not gonna happen. Not ever again if we can help it. And even if you did some how get lost again, we would find you. I'm not alone anymore, right? That goes both ways. You end up in another dimension, I'll find a way to be right there to get you. You aren't getting rid of me."

"Yeah," Rita Paris smiled and nodded, while internally she recalled having heard much the same speech from Captain Michael Stuart of the Exeter, and Dr. Lang of the Constitution before him. They too had made much the same promises, but when Rita got lost, she really didn't mess around. Even Sonak could not have found her had she not been able to send him a clue.

But her friend and shipmate was concerned enough about her and her 'little problem' that she had begun work on plans to insure Rita would have options other than beaming. When those moments arrived as the world was falling apart, and the time-tossed temptress that tended to be the eye of the storm needed to get out of danger before she was consumed by it. So this wasn't the time to mention that she had a home here and was happy here, and that her greatest fear was being pulled away from this place and time to be deposited by capricious fate who knows where, when, or in what state.

Instead, now was the time to be gracious. Pull it together, girlie. Comport yourself like an officer she heard the voice of her father inside her mind, long dead and gone, reminding her of both her position and her duty.

"You're a good friend, and a good shipmate to do this for me. They say that if you don't like transporting you shouldn't be in Starfleet," Rita admitted with another rueful chuckle. "But I always was stubborn."

"Hnave..." Dox cursed in Rihan. "You are Starfleet." The young pilot could tell that her words weren't quite as helpful or reassuring as she had hoped as she struggled to find what she wanted to say.

"Sorry..." Dox let out a sad little chuckle. "I'm out of my league here. I'm trying to give a reassuring 'Rita Paris' talk to Rita Paris. Instead..."

Walking over to her desk, she picked up a PADD and held it out for Rita. "... anyway... This is my best reassurance. It's my entire proposal. We talked about two ideas out of the six I've thought of so far. With your permission, I'll begin consulting with Thex and Mona about these ideas and see what we can do together, but I know that this is an extremely personal issue for you and wasn't going to involve anyone else in my plans unless you were comfortable with my doing so."

Then Dox pulled the PaDD up slightly as she thought for a second. "Well, unless you say 'no'. In which case, I'll probably try and figure out how to pull this off anyway and accept the consequences of disobeying an order." The red-headed Romulan smiled. It was as broad as her chubby cheeks would allow but heartfelt.

"I'm pretty stubborn, too. But I'm also really selfish. And I'm not giving you up to this or any other universe." She brought the PaDD back down for Rita to take.

The smile that brought to the first officer's face was genuine, she she packed her demons back into the closet where she kept them most of the time, and refocused on the moment. "Okay, as a friend? Thank you, Mnhei'sahe. Honestly. Sonak and Doc Dael have started studying what's going on with me, but after the last experiment- really, please, don't watch the footage because it will only upset you more, and you probably don't really want to see me like that. So who knows if I'll ever be 'cured' or if I'll spend the rest of my life trying to avoid that infernal contraption."

"But as a friend, it means the world to me that you are so concerned that you've put all of this work into just making sure that the Commander Throwback won't be stuck with no options again in a crisis. I'm... I'm happy here, Dox," Rita admitted, her usual stability pulling itself back together again after her breakdown into anxiety. "I have a home, and friends, and a good career that isn't what it used to be, but whatever is? Life is change, as Sonak says, and he's is here beside me. Losing him taught me a lot about myself, and how much I need him. Just like I need the rest of you."

"Starfleet is strength through diversity, Johnathan Archer said, and it's never been more true than today. The future's on course, and those that came before us would be proud of who we are today." Cocking an eyebrow and offering a slight smirk, Paris resumed pacing slowly about the model. "I can make amazing things happen in the universe, and do immeasurable good... because all of you are here helping me. All of you accomplish amazing things, in part because I am here. Infinite Diversity, Infinite Combinations as the wise man said, and he was right."

"This little project of yours has significant potential for a number of creative applications. Wonder of we could put waldoes on it and then it basically becomes a warp mech suit..." Rita muttered as she eyed the design, upending it nose to the deck so the long cockpit of the modified Scorpion was instead the fore. "Mmmm, limbs would create an enormous amout of drag unless you made them rounded cylindricals, like muscle fibers made of cabling that could respond with the same feedback system as the EVA armor."

Looking up from her spitballing, Paris offered a smile that said 'hold on, I'm rebooting' as she blinked a few times. "Sorry. Just... thank you for this. You're a good friend and a good officer, and I appreciate both in this program. The Paris Protocols... on every level, I like it."

Smiling, Dox was excited to advance her ideas and feverishly adding Rita's own to the mix. "I'm glad. And I think with the minds we can tap into here, we can create something really remarkable."

The young pilot had imagined every scenario that the presentation could have gone wrong and was feeling no small amount of pride at her Commander's praise. But ultimately, praise wasn't what she was doing this for.

"And seriously, you need to stop discounting your ideas. They're amazing." Dox replied with an excited grin. "Stuff I'd have never thought of on my own. IDIC, right?"

The natural compulsion was to deflect, to admit that she was just babbling. After all, Rita generally was not amongst the largest intellects in the room, and her grasp of the technologies around her tended to be basic at best. Thus in technical challenges she generally offered up her ignorance voluntarily. But there was something to be said for free-form association as well, and the one thing Rita Paris did not lack was curiosity and imagination. Nodding, she took the compliment.

"IDIC indeed, Miss Dox," Paris stood straight and tall, folding her hands behind her back. "So you said you had a few more ideas to share? I'd certainly be interested to see them...

 

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