Runabouts, And Bajorans, And Trill, Oh my!

Posted on 03/01/2020 @ 12:57pm by Lieutenant JG Salynn Oram

Mission: S1E1: Out of the Barn
Location: USS Crazy Horse, Shuttlebay; Runabout
Timeline: Day 4 at 0930

Tahlin entered the Crazy Horse's main shuttlebay, which was a hive of activity. Spying a Bolian crewman, she stopped him. "I'm looking for Lieutenant Oram?"

Salynn was on the observation deck of the shuttlebay, looking down on all the preparatory activity that ensues prior to a mission launch. She was still trying to find her bearings aboard, both in familiarizing herself with the ship and also with her new responsibilities. The shuttlebay was an exercise in organized chaos, so it surprised Sal when she saw the lone gold uniform among the sea of red tunics and jackets. An ensign was pointing up towards her, drawing the gaze of the Security officer up. Sal recognized Tahlin at that point, waved, and mimed that she would come right down and join her.

A quick trip on the open elevator lift between shuttlebay floors brought Salynn over to Tahlin, and she swept her arm to the far corner of the shuttlebay as she approached. Her outstretched arm encompassed the view of a runabout, on loan from the starbase. "Well, what do you think? Looking forward to trying that one on for size?"

Tahlin went over and tapped the bottom of one of the Danube's nacelles affectionately. "I was about five credits short of a minor in Flight Control, so I'm certainly looking forward to this... After you, Lieutenant."

Sal beamed, pleased for the opportunity to share her passion. "Flying was almost the only reason I joined Starfleet, and I took a minor in Engineering so as to be able to work on shuttles myself. I don't think anyone should be piloting a ship of any size if they don't know how the nuts and bolts of it work." She instructed Tahlin to conduct the walkaround, the visual check that a shuttle pilot makes of their craft prior to flying, so she could adjudicate that process. During the walkaround, she delved further into the Bajoran's interests. "So was Security your calling, or did you just stumble into it?"

"Well, I was a bit of a jack-of-all-trades as the human saying goes. I liked Security well enough, but if I'd thought it would have been better, I would have majored in Religion... Still, I did minor in it, and Operations, too... And, like I said, about five credits short of a minor in Conn, too... So, yeah... My father is--as far as I know, anyway--a Bajoran Vedek... We're not on great terms, honestly."

The Trill's eyebrows shot upwards. "I'm sorry to hear about that. Both for your strife, and for my chance to get to meet him. I've never met an honest to goodness Vedek, and would love to discuss The Prophets with one." There was no organized religion on Trill anymore, though the Symbiosis Commission was dangerously close. Sal had always had an academic fascination with faith systems, and the Bajorans had a robust one. "If you're confident with the walkaround, then let's climb aboard and head out," Sal demurred.

"I am... I always loved the Danube--old, but you can put it through a lot..." She hit the hatch control. "After you... And," continued the Bajoran as she entered the hatch, "You probably wouldn't want to meet him... He's... Difficult. Was always decent towards me and my brother, until my brother was an adult... Think every bad thing you've heard about conservative Bajorans--he's it."

As Tahlin said, the flight deck design of this class of runabouts were a little long in the tooth, but Sal still appreciated the design aesthetics. Not quite a shuttle, not quite a starship, it filled a niche that few other vessels could. The flight deck was the same contradiction, not quite a cockpit, not quite a bridge. She moved on over to the Ops seat, the rightmost of the two forward positions, leaving the conn for the security officer.

"So then, you couldn't wait to get off Bajor, I take it? And Starfleet is pretty handy for taking one far away from where they don't want to be." Not that she would know, she had used Starfleet to move towards something rather than away from something. Towards the stars, towards new experiences.

Tahlin sat and put her hands to the controls, running an eye over the readouts. "Well, by that point, my parents were divorced, and I was living with my mother, brother, and his partner in a different city entirely. My brother and his partner left first, so I just followed... I try to communicate with my father twice a year... Everything looks good--if you agree? Power's stable, engines look fine... Thrusters... Ready."

Sal checked off a couple points on her checklist, then gave a reassuring smile to Tahlin. "See, just like riding a bike. Er, a bike is a two wheel conveyance. It's a human term, something they use to mean you haven't forgotten how to do something." She cleared her throat. "I speak with my parents all the time - well, my father mostly. My mother wasn't too keen on the idea of me becoming Joined. But at least we can be civil. I also have a sister, and we're inseparable."

Tahlin laughed. "I know what a bike is... I'm very close to my mother an brother, too--actually, just heard from him a few days ago... Shall I take us out?"

"We're ready to go, at your command," replied Salynn. The flight path was already programmed into the flight computer, designed to test response times and decision making processes of pilots during the adjudication period. Sal had flown plenty of these herself, and had adjudicated a fair number as well. She would sit back with her PADD during the flight and do her best not to interrupt Tahlin, unless and only if she needed to.

Tahlin hit a couple of controls. "Runabout Ob to USS Crazy Horse control. Request permission to depart on training run from main shuttlebay."

"Confirmed Ob--starbase gives you leave as well."

"Aye... Initiating takeoff."

Tahlin eased the runabout up, then towards the shuttlebay's mag con field. Easing through, she arced around the Crazy Horse, then turned to Oram, once the starry void of space--and the Crazy Horse's and Starbase 614's bulks--were in front of her. "We've launched."

"You've got your flight plan there, it'll test your mettle at the controls. Don't be afraid to really push it, both the ship and the instructor can take it." That was the rub of choosing a runabout over a smaller shuttlecraft; a pilot would need to be on their game to make the course and speed corrections necessary to maintain the parameters of the course, more so than a more nimble, agile shuttle would. It was why Salynn respected Tahlin for choosing a runabout instead - it showed confidence and a fair bit of verve.

"Just between you and me, you'll want to watch your speed through the micro-meteoroid field on the back half of the course. Word is, the last pilot to run this course owes the shuttle maintenance crew on the station a round of drinks. He ran faster than his deflector could compensate and pitted the nose of his shuttle pretty good," quipped Sal. "Half-impulse or less, but if anyone asks, I didn't volunteer that."

"No problem... I hate those. Like getting pelted by kava seeds... Devilish to get out of your hair."

She took the runabout towards the markers of the start of the course, then entered at .45 impulse. She wanted to make a good impression on the Trill--both professionally and personally--but still wanted a margin of safety. She spied the first obstacle, a kilometer and a half wide asteroid, rotating slowly, but also at an angle that would make it difficult for her to pass it. "Deflectors up," she called, as a small piece of the thing broke off--apparently, something wasn't stable. A brief starburst of light flashed outside as the rock hit the shields. It wasn't big, so the drop in strength was small.

Now in range, Tahlin took the runabout in on an angle, then, at fifty meters from the roid, dropped the shields for just a second. The gravity of the thing, as negligible as it was, pulled the two of them down in their seats. Triggering the shields again, Tahlin watched with satisfaction as the reaction pushed them off the asteroid like a stone skipping across a lake. She righted the craft, then turned to Sal. "How was that?"

Salynn grinned broadly and placed a large check on the checklist. Using slingshotting was an advanced piloting technique, and coupled with energy field repulsion? She might have to snag the Crazy Horse's chief gunslinger for more flying missions. "Where'd you learn your maneuvers, hot shot? You've got some serious skills."

"My brother was, at one point, training to be a pilot. He needed someone to train against, so we did a lot of holo-simming... Eventually, he went into sales of holographic programs... Guess the holograms got to him before the ships did." Tahlin grinned, then refocused on the course. "Hmmm, is that an ionic plasma cloud? ... Computer, run analysis of sensor contact at 030, Mark 214. Confirm ionic plasma readings."

"Confirmed," came the dry, female voice.

"Okay... So..." Tahlin put her tongue between her teeth, then moved the ship forward. The cloud wasn't that dangerous, or very large, but she'd have to move through eddies. It'd be like trying to see through thick stew... From the inside. Hitting a control, Tahlin polarized the viewports--no sense getting bright lights in her or the Trill's face.

Flying on sensors, she entered the field. Something pinged against the hull, and something else creaked. "We're fine... No damage," Tahlin assured her proctor, checking a readout. After just about thirty seconds of white-knuckled flying, they were through... Now just eh micrometeorites, but first... She evened the ship out--she'd had to angle around a particularly nasty little gas spiral--and set a slow, gentle cruising speed.

This was too easy for the adjudicator to mark. Sal was basically just along for the ride, that was how well Tahlin was doing at this flight check. Short of crashing into the Crazy Horse upon return, Lae'Or was going to pass with, well, flying colors. Sal put her PADD down and turned her chair so she could watch the Bajoran work more closely. Was it distraction, trying to see if the officer would trip up under direct scrutiny? She would never tell, thought the Trill with a smirk. After the direct observation for a few moments, Sal finally spoke up.

"You can bring us back to the bay at any time now, Lieutenant. I think I've seen enough," drawled Sal.

"Aye... Turning to Course 156, Mark 29... Range to Crazy Horse, 1.5 million kilometers." Tahlin checked the pannel. "We should be there in about three minutes... You seem a bit shocked, Lieutenant--something wrong?" Tahlin gave the Trill a grin.

"Oh, not shocked, Tahlin," grinned Sal. It was time to drop the formalities; the Trill helmsman was among a proven equal. "Impressed. I've had pilots who majored at flying who couldn't adapt to a Danube class like you just did. As one of my previous hosts like to say, 'You're as straight and dependable as a foundation beam.' Er, it sounds more impressive in the native tongue..." She laughed. "You mentioned that you helped your brother dabble in holoprogramming? Then your Bajor climbing program must be top notch. Pencil me in?"

Oram would have tons of time; the marking of this proficiency test would be quick. Full pass, easily.

"Happy to do so... Actually, I just piloted stuff with him--he did all the programming. But, the climbing program is something he and my mother cooked up for my birthday a couple of years ago... His husband sent me a bottle of spring wine--good, too." Tahlin let out a little chuckle at the foibles of her family.

Tahlin smoothly slowed the runabout, and started docking procedures. With a little bump, the ship settled onto the shuttlebay floor, and the Bajoran hit a control to close down the runabout. "Thank you for being willing to proctor me yourself," she sincerely told the Trill.

---

A Post by:

LtJG Salynn Oram
Chief Helm Officer
USS Crazy Horse

and

Lieutenant (J.G.) Lae'Or Tahlin
Chief of Security and Tactical
USS Crazy Horse