Lt. Commander Jo Marshall - Full Throttle
Jo Marshall
((Ready Room, USS Gorkon))
The Denobulan nodded and walked out of the Ready Room, Ensign Sleeford on his heels, leaving the commanding officer and executive behind. A sigh like a woosh of air left the blonde and an eyebrow cocked up towards friend and Captain as the door swished to a close, while Quinn breathed a light chuckle in return.
Marshall: Two marines in one short space of time. Samira's building a sizable dominion.
Reynolds: Queen of the Marines. I don't know whether to congratulate or commiserate. ::She shook her head.:: We should probably grab another bag of goodies for our pilot before we head down.
Marshall: He eats marshmallows faster than the replicator can keep up. ::Chuckling, Jo shook her head and pointed to the desk.:: Before we do, I've got something for you.
Reynolds: Oh?
Curiosity successfully prodded, Jo picked up the package she’d dropped onto the desk upon arrival, laid beside the helmet. Jo picked it up, unfolded it and chucked one of the dark objects inside underarm to Quinn, who caught it with both hands. Unfolding one to match, she showed the dark black motorbike jacket with the Gorkon emblem emblazoned on the back of it. On the front left lapel, the Starfleet delta shone, embossed in gold. That same curiosity slipped into a laugh from the Admiral as she held up her own.
Marshall: In case we get lost, obviously. Though, there's nowhere on here to clip that Admiral belt…
Reynolds: Alas, woe unto me.
Said with a grin as she pulled the jacket on, striking a pose of a biker in full form. Handy to know someone in Operations still with access to the Admiral’s replicator preferences, Jo mused, as she hooked her fingers through the loop in the collar and swung her own over her shoulder. Once Quinn had picked up her helmet, they were ready to roll out.
Marshall: You’ll have to fashion a place for it. Put tiny versions on the collar.
Reynolds: Rumour has it HQ is planning another uniform redesign. I wonder if they take open submissions?
Marshall: Starfleet biker gangs roaming the Neutral Zone sounds interesting.
The thought was amusing; the standard Starfleet design of their uniforms revamped for black leather jackets instead of the warm fabric so designed to keep bodies at an adequate temperature at all times. She could imagine it, corridors filled with officers rocking biker jackets and greaser haircuts reminiscent of a bygone era in human history, nearly four hundred and fifty years ago. However, so far, there were only those two in existence, with two more to be added once Jo got them all together for a ride through mountains again.
Reynolds: Thank you. ::She gave the lapels a gentle tug, adjusting the collar, and her smile widened.:: I love it.
Marshall: You’re welcome. Looks a damn sight better than all that standard-issue protective layering.
Gesturing toward the Ready Room door, with the hand holding her helmet, Quinn grinned and Jo led the way. They had an action-packed day planned in the schedule, lots of Romulan hills to climb and dunes to roam, not to mention giving the Admiral’s bike thorough testing.
Reynolds: Shall we? Before Rosh consumes enough marshmallows to put himself into a sugar coma.
Jo chuckled and scratched the side of her cheek with a long finger as they left the confines of the boss’ Ready Room for places not easily reached by onboarding crew.
Marshall: I think he exists in a perpetual state of sugar coma these days...
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Lt. Commander Jo Marshall
First Officer
USS Gorkon, NCC-82293
G239304JM0