Ad Astra Et Ultra

Posted on 02/09/2020 @ 4:35pm by Captain Cian D'Anvers & Lieutenant JG Salynn Oram
Edited on on 02/28/2020 @ 7:09pm

Mission: S1E1: Out of the Barn
Location: USS Crazy Horse, Captain's Ready Room
Timeline: Day 3 at 0800

The officer standing in the alcove before the Captain's ready room door seemed preoccupied. She smoothed at her auburn hair, tied back but with tufts and strands apparently loose about her ears, as if it was the most irritating thing in the world. She fingered the pips on her collar, ensuring they were straight, then tried to smooth the jacket of her uniform even though it looked perfectly pressed. She scratched absently at one of the myriad spots on the right side of her neck, right at the collar line, that one spot that seemed to itch as of late when she was distracted. Lieutenant Junior Grade Salynn Oram, newly assigned to the USS Crazy Horse as the Chief Flight Control Officer, could easily be mistaken in a quick glance as nervous if she didn't have several lifetimes of experiences to draw from.

So, if it wasn't nerves, then what was it? The Trill wondered herself why she was fidgety, and the best she could come up with was 'transport-lag'. She had come aboard late last night after a long transport ride, barely had time to settle and get a touch of sleep, and woke up to several messages. None were surprising to any officer who had transferred ships or installations before - medical checkup, security clearance, phaser proficiency exams - but it was still a bit much to process this morning. Perhaps after the pomp of meeting her new commanding officer was squared away, Sal would be in a better frame of mind to face the pressing tasks. As such, there was no time to waste... more than she had primping and preening, of course. She rang the door chime.

The past couple of days had been hectic; she had personally gone from station keeping to warp in a matter of moments and somehow had managed to keep up. Her hair was white, reaching nearly to her waist, and today, worn in a loose braid; white against pure white skin and yet, in the way of all Invernians, the emotions that she felt glowed from her scalp lending her hair an unusual aspect as though muted shots of color peeped through the silky strands.. The spray of soft, wispy bangs sat atop a pair of blue-green eyes alive with intelligence. She looked up and said, "Enter."

Sal paused momentarily inside the door, surreptitiously looking about. One could infer a fair amount about their commanding officer by the way they chose to (or not to) decorate their private space. The most striking artifacts of personal touch in the room was some pieces of bold artwork, unlike any style she had seen before in any of her lifetimes. Then again, the Captain before her was unlike any Sal had seen before, either. If she recalled correctly, the captain was Invernian, not that the helm officer had encountered any of her kind before. She was captivating, though being more slight than Sal she found her of a powerful and commanding presence.

"Captain," Sal intoned deferentially with a nod of her head. "Lieutenant Sal Oram, reporting for duty."

She smiled a welcome and gestured toward the chairs facing her desk. "Please, Lieutenant, have a seat. I understand you're to be ... Chief of Flight Control, wasn't it?"

Sal moved to one of the proffered seats, sitting relatively at attention. She didn't want to convey herself as too at ease, she still needed to learn the styles of the ship's command staff before she pushed the boundaries of decorum. That errant spot on the side of her neck itched again, but she successfully fought the urge to scratch it.

"That's right, sir. Thanks for accepting my transfer request, I've never flown a starship quite like the Luna-class. I'm looking forward to how maneuverable she should be compared to some of the larger vessels I've helmed." The Trill pilot had also spent a fair bit of time in a starbase shuttlebay flying smaller craft, but there was just something that stirred the passions about flying a capital ship.

"I actually had a chance to fly her in simulation," Sidonie said, blue-green eyes sparkling as spirals of pleasure slid through her white hair. "Not quite as good as the real thing but still, a pure pleasure. The simulation provided more ... shall we say ... interesting maneuvers than we'll probably see in actuality. It will be your job to oversee the smaller craft we have on board and to ensure that the pilots are properly certified."

Sal had put some thought into the administrative side of accepting a position as head of a department during her transport. She would be responsible for determining duty rotations among the helm officers on the ship, ensure that shuttlebay operations were proceeding apace, and keep track of pilot proficiencies. The Trill wasn't worried about her ability to do so, but it would still be a novel experience to have such responsibility. Sal nodded enthusiastically, secretly marveling at the trick of light that seemed to happen to Sidonie's hair, or at least as it seemed from her ignorant perspective. "I'm glad to hear that the Crazy Horse will be a treat to fly. I hope you'll find that I can keep the support craft and the ship's pilots at the ready for you, sir."

"I have no doubt," Sidonie said. "Your record speaks for itself. Now, if there's nothing else, I'll let you go."

"Of course sir, and once again, thank you for having me aboard. By your leave?" Salynn had a good feeling about her new commanding officer, and was honestly looking forward to the chance to serve on the bridge with her.

"You are dismissed, Lieutenant, and welcome aboard the Crazy Horse."

A Post By

Cmdr. Sidonie Ysayne
Commanding Officer
USS Crazy Horse

and

LtJG Salynn Oram
Chief Flight Control Officer
USS Crazy Horse