Ensign Mi'shune sh'Sonora: 'High and Dry'
d.reinhart
((Hangar, Landing City, Capricalia))
Mi’shune began her visual inspection of the Theirr. The more she looked, the more she found… disturbing.
Whatever needed cleaning and scrubbing needed cleaning and scrubbing. Soot caked the outer plasma vents and directional thrusters. Dust covered the hull. And so much plasma scoring from previous weapons hits. There were a lot of issues with the Theirr’s cleanliness. What there wasn’t an issue with was its structural integrity. As far as she could tell, the exterior was still solid. No environmental seals degraded or damaged, no hull or structural warping.
Under some carbon soot she found a peculiar set of markings. Crosses, five in a row. She recognized kill marks when she saw them.
Though she dreaded what she’d find on the inside.
Continuing to inspect the Theirr with a discerning eye, she listened idly as her fellow officers talked to their Capricalian liason.
Wethern: How frequently do you vessels encounter pirates?
Femorr: At first, the pirates would hide in ambush. The raids were infrequent. But lately, they have grown in confidence. We are experiencing several confrontations a week now.
It was at this point Mi’shune was scanning the Theirr with her tricorder. What she saw spiked her antennae straight.
sh’Sonora: By the gods, when was the last time this vessel had a baryon sweep?!
Willow: I apologize on behalf of the Federation, that we were unable to intervene earlier.
Ensign sh’Sonora found Willow’s apology to be an understatement. A beat-up Romulan scout vessel doing the job of a corvette. Ridiculous!
Wethern: Must be tough getting supplies through.
Femorr: Indeed. As you can see ::holding his hand up to indicate the Theirr:: our defences are somewhat lacking. Though our pilots do the best job they can with what they have.
Willow: We are grateful for any provisions you have provided us.
sh’Sonora: ::Slapped her tricorder closed and placed it on her belt:: Well Sir, she won’t pass a Federation ship inspection, but she looks worse than she actually is. She’s not only spaceworthy, but ready to fly right now.
Edan led the way, dropping down the heavy scoutship hatch, exposing partially the scoutship’s interior. They were hit with a waft of musty air that hit the olfactory senses, defying the outside’s dusty atmosphere.
Femorr: Welcome aboard the Theirr. She is probably quite… different to what you are used to, I’m sure.
sh’Sonora: oO So’s a lot of things I’ve seen in the past five minutes. Oo
Willow: I am used to a great many things. I am sure we are all more than capable of adapting. What you have provided us is more than enough.
Wethern: I piloted a type 6 shuttle in a race literally held together with a ration pack. ::Corey paused:: that is a story for a different time.
sh’Sonora: Don’t worry about it, Sirs. If I can pilot a runabout crammed with a dozen cadets through three sectors then I can handle this.
The Capricalian’s tall and slender body had some difficulty in an interior built for Romulans. Not that she could blame them, as Mi’shune was the opposite end of that spectrum. Already she found the ship too voluminous, not accommodating her five foot frame. Already she saw she would have to adjust the pilot’s seat, already set for a Capricalian (and a shorter one at that).
The interior itself didn’t look nearly as bad as she thought. There were unclean surfaces, granted. The upholstery was old and worn, but who needed good carpets on a starship anyways? There were clear indications of patch jobs and repairs on the avionics. Nothing that stuck out to demand the Theirr be immediately grounded.
Femorr: Feel free to do whatever checks you deem necessary, Ensign.
Wethern: Nice and cost I am sure we will all get to know each other quickly.
sh’Sonora: On it! ::She whipped out her tricorder and began to scan.:: So… where are you taking us today?
Edan Femorr’s face began to look more serious, were it ever possible, eliciting a sinking sensation in Mi’shune’s stomach.
Femorr: I’m sorry, you’re under the impression that I’m… coming with you?
Wethern: Well it is one of your vessels, I wasn't sure whether you would have one of your staff supervise us.
sh’Sonora: I mean… yeah. We work side by side. That’s usually how these things go, right?
Willow: I am under no such impression myself. The space provided, while adequate, is not nearly large enough for four people.
Perhaps it was Mi’shune naivety but she found the Capricalian officer’s laugh to be rather stinging.
Femorr: That will not be possible, I’m afraid. ::holding his long arms out to illustrate his point:: This ship was designed for only two people. As it is, you will not have the most comfortable flight, but with me onboard as well? ::he chuckled again:: No, I will remain here.
sh’Sonora: ::mutters:: Gotta be frellin’ kidding me… ::She slaps her tricorder shut and puts it away, and speaks more audibly:: I’m just here to fly the ship. With or without a Capricalian national on board is not my call. Ready when you are.
Willow: Then we shall remain in communication.
Wethern: I understand completely. Could you transfer us your communications frequencies so that we can keep you updated on any pirate contacts.
Femorr: You will have access to our communications, of course. If there are any problems, we are here to help.
Willow: Yes, that is reasonable. Thank you for keeping communication open.
Wethern: Anything we need to know before we depart? Ensign are you happy with your pre-flight checks.
sh’Sonora: Sir, we could do worse. She’s good to go, I’m good to go, let’s go.
Femorr: I am sure highly trained Starfleet personnel will be more than capable. Now, do you have any further questions before I disembark?
Willow: I do not. Wethern? sh’Sonora?
Edan’s eyes unnerved her. It was as if he radiated an aura of contempt for effete, epicurean Starfleeters. It set the diminutive Andorian on edge.
Wethern: Nothing from me, keen to see what she can do.
sh’Sonora: Ummm… none here, Sirs.
Femorr: You have brought your own supplies with you?
sh’Sonora: oO Really? They relied on us for supplies? What kind of dren display are they running here? Oo
Willow: They have been left in the back incase they are needed.
Wethern: We have emergency equipment as well if needed.
Femorr: I hope, for your sake, that it is not.
Mi’shune had to turn around and fake inspecting a panel, unless she showed an undue amount of insubordination through her rolled eyes and flicked antennae. She turned again with a cheerful smile replacing her discomfort.
sh’Sonora: Mister Edan, you’ll find that we’re able to adapt to many… trying circumstances. Leave it to us. We’ve got this.
Willow: Then we shall be on our way. I’ll be in communication if any need arises.
Wethern: We will try and bring her back in one piece.
sh’Sonora: I’ll treat her like my own personal shuttlecraft, Sir. She’s in good hands.
Edan Femorr radiated amusement and contempt as he waved goodbye, stepped lightly out of the scoutship, and closed the loading hatch behind him.
No longer obligated to keep a polite face, Mi’shune switched to disapproving sourness in a nanosecond.
Willow: While I understand we are operating in a tight space, we must adapt, become familiar with telegraphing our movements, working around and over each other. With that, we must first examine our surroundings, learning the layout blindfolded, including the location of our personal weapons and medical supplies.
sh’Sonora: ::wriggles her antennae:: No problem, Sir. It’s almost impossible to sneak up on an Andorian. But sirs, did they just leave us to hang? I’ve never seen such a lack of professionalism, and I’ve been around my clan’s transport shuttles since I was 14 cycles old!
Wethern: I can't believe how helpful they were. I must put this planet down for some shore leave.
Willow: I wouldn’t be so sure Corey, ::She spoke, using his first name as a show of respect, indicating her reaction to emotion and experience:: I have a distinct feeling, though I could be wrong, that Edan Femorr wants us to survey the system without Capricalian support. They may be setting us up for failure.
sh’Sonora: Just don’t go to their bars. They’ll ask us to mix our own cocktails… after they send us down to the liquor store for ‘supplies’. ::She settles herself into the pilot seat, adjusting the chair to accommodate her lack of height.:: I mean, yeah, it certainly feels like a setup. I know the locals have issues with us, but that’s no excuse.
Willow: Past experience, though not often, is my guide. Now what is your tricorder showing? What are the readings indicating?
Mi’shune finished fighting her battle with the rather balky adjustable seat. Now at a comfortable height, she worked on the Theirr’s piloting controls. The vessel activated at the touch of her deft fingers, its pre-flight sequence further reinforcing her skepticism as the warmup sounds were… stuttering.
The Andorian pilot waited for the ship’s lighting to stop flickering and its quantum singularity core hum to stabilize before she spoke.
sh’Sonora: She's good to go, Sir. And look at that… They already have the flight plan submitted. It’s… ummm… take off at an exact time and try not to smack into any atmospheric and orbital traffic. Pretty bare-bones, but I’ve got this.
Wethern: Response
Willow: So far so good. But don’t hold your breath.
How could the security chief be so chill after all this? Mi’shune thought she could be easygoing, but not in the case of mutual safety. She was a pilot, every life on board was in her hands. It wasn’t like solo flying in a shuttle, where the acceptance of risk was up to her own personal discretion. There was no margin of error, no room to make mistakes when there were lives at stake. It was making the Andorian nav officer a little nervous.
Not helping the fact that the locals threw them into a literal rattletrap and kicked them off into the deep end of space with little more than a ‘good luck’ and a wave goodbye.
Safe flying, she reasoned, allowed for loose tolerances under certain circumstances.
sh’Sonora: Let it be on record that I think this all sucks, the Capricalians were jerks, and for that I’m gonna fly this thing like I stole it at the nearest opportunity. Other than that? I’m excited to be here! Let’s do this.
Wethern/Willow: ?
sh’Sonora: We’re cleared to go at any time. Prepared for lift off. I suggest you all buckle up. I’m not sure how well the inertial dampers work on this thing. ::She flicked a switch on the console.:: This is Ensign sh’Sonora, Callsign Sparrow, on Theirr, requesting clearance for takeoff.
Ground Control: Theirr, this is LC Ground Control, you are cleared to launch.
sh’Sonora: Roger that. Lifting off. Thanks for having us.
Ground Control: And we have a message from MI Central. They say good luck and happy hunting.
Wethern/Willow/Femorr: ?
Mi’shune rolled her eyes and flicked her antennae. Why should she have been surprised by yet another false bill of sale from the Capricalians?
sh’Sonora: Thank you, we return the sentiment. Preparing to depart. Sparrow out.
The pilot controls responded with velvety smoothness as she lifted the scoutship off the tarmac. Hovering the craft meters above the spaceport’s buildings, she aimed the nose up towards the sky, picking a gap between the clouds. She checked her sensor readings. No craft in the sky beside an emergency shuttle ambulance en-route to the local hospital, and a communications satellite in low orbit, both kilometres away from their flight trajectory. They had a clear road, and despite outward appearances, nothing mechanical to stop the Theirr from breaking Capricalia’s surly bonds.
Increasing power to the thrusters, Mi’shune lifted the craft rapidly through the atmosphere, the sky transitioning from blue and orange sky to the starscape of space.
Any: ?
TBC?
–
Ensign Mi’shune sh’Sonora
Helm Officer
Starbase 118 - Ops Department
O240208MS1