Lt. jg. Mi'shune sh'Sonora - On So Many Levels
d.reinhart
((Docking Bay – En Route to the USS Aurora-A))
sh’Sonora: ::Oh no, not again!!!::
Her rapid pace to reach the new auxiliary starship could have broken its own set of land-speed records, throttled by the set limits of the turbolift delivery system. It was early morning. Worse, it was the day prior to a promotions ball, which meant a lot of things.
A few thing, more likely. Such as the purple drink that tasted like marshmallows and gave a morning hangover that pulsed her head like the hammering of pace drums on an ancient rowing galley. Or the high energy of being given another commendation. Spliced mainbrace, with oak leaves and clusters. What Lieutenant Junior Grade got that on the regular?
And it wasn’t every day that a Rear Admiral earned his bars, so naturally that deserved a toast! Then another and another!
The end result was a not so easy recovery in the morning. She woke up in a pool of her own invaluable antique clothing to the pulse of her own hangover and a mouth as dry as a Kazon mining planet, aggravated by the blaring pulse of her alarm, ignored thrice over. When it dawned on her there was a reason she set three alarms, she exploded in activity to make her duty shift. Shower, brush, eat, deal with the hangover, and run like hell!
((The Bridge, Deck 1, USS Aurora-A))
She hadn’t taken the time to admire the Aurora-A from the docking ring as she bolted across the gangway and entered her decks.
The Aurora-A was a Rhode Island class. Small, maneuverable, a possible contender hull for the Defiant program that was ditched in favor of the compact form that became the iconic escort ship and warfighter of the Dominion War. The Rhode Island class had a different fate. Still a capable hull, she was instead recycled as a replacement for the thousands of eggshell-fragile vessels jokingly called the Starfleet War Canoe, the century old Oberth class.
Perhaps overkill for a science vessel, but what better to take with you when stellar phenomena decided to punch a starship in the face than one who could take a photon torpedo blast?
In other words, what was there to know? She was almost late for her duty shift and had to hustle! She dashed into the turbolift, hastily shouted out her destination, and tapped her foot impatiently as she was taken to the bridge.
It was all she could to do disguise her shortness of breath as she entered the bridge.
McLaren: Lieutenant, Ensign glad you could join me. Welcome aboard the Aurora.
Her eyes and antennae scanned for a chronometer. Good, she wasn’t late. A few minutes early, in fact. Though she was the last one to arrive. She hoped Commander McLaren didn’t notice.
sh’Sonora: Glad to be here, Sir!
Muur: Response?
Sol smiled gesturing around the bridge, letting them look around.
McLaren: I hope you’re both ready to fly today.
sh’Sonora’s Inner Dialogue: ::And me without my aviator shades. Frell.::
sh’Sonora: Always ready, Sir! And don’t say I can’t deliver. Fast, slow, steady, thrilling, you want it, I got it.
Muur: Response?
Sol grinned, pointing to the helm and ops stations.
McLaren: We'll take the ship out to the edge of the Azure Nebula... put it through its paces. Mi'sh, if you'd take the helm... Ensign Muur, operations.
sh’Sonora: ::Saluting:: Right away, Sir!
Mi’shune gave the new ensign a sympathetic look. No pilot wanted to be relegated to the Operations seat. All a person did there was route power and turn systems on and off. Where was the fun in that?
Mi’shune supposed she was given first chance to fly the Aurora out of seniority.
Rank had its privileges.
Muur: Response?
McLaren: You'll both have a chance to fly today, I promise.
sh’Sonora: And just think, since I’m a shuttle jock, this might mean the Aurora’s more your baby, while I’m its babysitter. Cool, huh?
Muur: Response?
Smiling, Mi’shune settled into her seat, her fingers dancing across the console as she brought up her navigational display and starship controls. The responsiveness of the consoles was impressive, almost as good as a top-of-the-line fighter, where responsiveness was essential for survival. In starships, there were plenty of failsafes and bottlenecks to ensure a hotshot helm officer didn’t fly the multi-tonne vessel apart, so one couldn’t get away with so many maneuvers. But here, in the equivalent of a corvette, she was close enough to real flying.
She couldn’t lie, Mi’shune felt a tingle of multi-level excitement flying this ship.
sh’Sonora: Course laid in, ready to engage.
Any: ?
*****
Lieutenant jg. Mi’shune sh’Sonora
Helm Officer
Starbase 118 - Ops Department
O240208MS1