It was the best of times, it was the worst of times

Posted on Tue Sep 13th, 2022 @ 6:54am by Cadet First Class Pallas & Lieutenant Obav th’Villos

Mission: The Goddess
Location: Main Lounge
Timeline: Backpost -- sometime after "Intimidation"
3537 words - 7.1 OF Standard Post Measure

It was the best of times, it was the worst of times...

"It's a catchy opening, I'll give it that," Pallas thought to herself as she sat at a table by herself and started a new book on her PADD as she waited for the bartender to make her synthale cocktail. While she could spend her entire Training Cruise working--and part of her suspected that Dr. Svadi would like for her to do exactly that during her first rotation through Medical--Cadet Pallas had been encouraged by several professors, her faculty mentor, and her guidance counselor to ensure that she learned not only what went into the operations of a Starfleet vessel, but also what social life on a starship was like. Having been relatively isolated, from a galactic perspective, growing up solely on Andara and not having flown off-world until leaving for the Academy, acculturation had been as much part of her training on Earth as her coursework had been. She put down the book as the friendly bartender arrived with her drink, and took the moment to survey the room.

Obav strolled into the lounge and leaned up against the bar and ordered a glass of Andorian ale, he nodded to the bartender once it was handed over to him and he took a drink, before taking a look around the room. When he spotted the new cadet, he decided to head over.

"Hey, you're the new Cadet right?" Obav said with a half smile. "I'm Obav th'Villos, the Chief Flight control officer."

Pallas stood up so quickly that it looked a bit like she was jumping, settling back down at attention and saluting Obav sharply. "That's correct, sir. Cadet First Class Pallas. It's a pleasure to meet you, Lieutenant."

"You're wound a bit tight, aren't you?" Obav's antenna turned inwards in amusement. "We're in the lounge, let's keep it a little casual? I'm not in uniform, I just wanted to say hello and get to know you."

The cadet's eyes flashed for a moment to the movement of the antenna and she let out a slow breath and relaxed. "Sorry, sir," she managed to crack an apologetic smile. "My first rotation is with Doctor Svidi in Medical, so my default right now is toward... an abundance of duty." She extended a hand for a more formal greeting. "I'll try again. I'm Pallas. Thanks for coming over to say hello to a very green cadet."

"It's nice to meet you Pallas, call me Obav while we're off duty. You likely couldn't pronounce my full name anyway," Obav said with a chuckle, before he shook her hand. "Let's take a seat."

She sat, as suggested. "I guess I will have to apologize again, I'm not sure I'm comfortable calling you by your first name, even off duty. I can offer 'sir,' 'Commander,' or...," she looked at her drink, hoping to see a compromise in it, "maybe 'Chief?' Unless, of course, you're ordering me to do so, which I suppose you could, although that would seem to undermine the intent of your request, as we are off-duty...." She looked up. "I'm rambling, aren't I?"

"Sadly, I am not a commander. Just a full Lieutenant," Obav took a drink from his ale, to give himself a second. "No, it's not an order and yes you're rambling. How do you suggest I get you ready for my department then? We are a raucous bunch."

"'Lieutenant,' then, unless you prefer 'sir' or 'Chief.' To be blunt, sir, I haven't considered a career as a Flight Officer. The starship part of being in Starfleet wasn't ever the main draw for me, beyond getting to the next mission in a ridiculously short amount of time. No offense," she smiled sipping her own drink. "Many of my peers would love the chance to fly a ship as grand as the Gladiator. It's just that the concept of 'flying' for my people is... fraught."

"Have you ever flown a ship before?" Obav asked her, with one of his antenna raising up. "If not, you might find it's something you like to do. As for what to call me, I'll leave that up to you since you don't want to call me by my name."

"I can definitely call you by your name, if there's a title in front of it, Chief th'Villos." she suppressed a smirk. "I took the basic flight requirements at the Academy. So just shuttlecraft, never a ship. It was... okay. Like I said, I completely understand how much others love it. Some of my closest friends want to be flight officers. Besides, I don't think I'm very good at it. My flight instructor said I 'lacked the natural feel for flying,' whatever that was supposed to mean. Still passed me though. Barely."

"And yet I'm pretty sure you still have to do a rotation through my department. Would you rather something along the lines of maintenance in the shuttle bay?" Obav asked. "Why did you join Starfleet?"

“If you need someone to do maintenance, I can do that. If you think you can teach someone who isn’t destined to be a pilot how to fly this enormous, beautiful ship, I promise to be a better student to you than I was to my Academu flight instructor. Honestly, Chief, I joined Starfleet to help,” she said simply. “I don’t me to be pithy or anything. When I was growing up, Andara was still in turmoil, even a century after the Great Disruption. Starfleet came and helped. That’s when I realized there was a career in stopping what happened on my planet from happening elsewhere.” She took another drink of her cocktail. “I realize I was being rude about flight, when I thought I was just being honest. I know all officers need to know how to fly in case we are ever called upon to do so, which is why we do the rotations. It is, maybe, more than a little bit of fear talking when I sound dismissive or hesitant. I said I barely passed basic flight, but what I didn’t say is that was partially because I had anxiety attacks when I was behind the conn.”

"You'll have to forgive me, I don't know a lot about the histroy of Andara. I believe it was visited by the original enterprise with Kirk if I recall my galactic history correctly," Obav's antenna turned inwards toward each other. "I can understand having anxiety, being one of the sole people guiding a ship, even a small one, can make a lot of people feel that way. Did the instructor tell you what the first rule of flying was?"

"Don't crash?" Pallas smiled weakly and shook her head. "I may or may not have been had full use of all my senses during that part. You'll have to remind me of the first rule." She took a long, deep drink. All this talk of flying was bringing back all the memories of, well, flying. Or trying to. "No apology needed on not knowing the history of every planet... it's a big galaxy. Andara was a Federation member back in the 23rd century, during the incident you mentioned. The USS Enterprise arrived hoping to secure zenite, which at the time was a very rare and important element in treatment of certain medical conditions. Andara, as part of the Federation, was obliged to share what we had to cure a plague facing another world, but we didn't, because we were at the start of a full-on rebellion. What the Federation had conveniently ignored up to that visit was that Andara was an apartheid state: a small minority lived in luxury on the floating city of Stratos, while everyone else was confined to the surface, where byproducts of zenite mining were causing a serious neurological syndrome that dulled intelligence and increased aggression. Basically what humans would think of as Heaven and Hell. The Enterprise's short time there revealed the reality of the oppression that had gone on for so long, and the rebels who were already fighting it were suddenly empowered with all this knowledge. So Andara left the Federation, for a while, during which time there was a big civil war, what we call the Great Disruption. The oppressors lost and moved out of Stratos, and everyone settled on the surface, but there wasn't true and complete justice so around the time I was born, there was more turmoil. Anyway, flying is sort of associated generally with living in the clouds, in Stratos, and that's considered associating with the former regime." She looked away, and then back at Obav. "Sorry, Chief, that was maybe more of a history lesson than you were looking for. And also, only a partial explanation for my fear of flying. When I was really young, around three years, maybe, Stratos crashed. It was empty, abandoned, but came down and almost took out First City... that's where I'm from. I don't know if it's actually memories of that happening, or constructed memories from hearing about it later, but every time I got into a shuttlecraft for basic flight, all I could think about was crashing."

"Don't crash is usually fourth or fifth on the list depending on who you ask," Obav said with a chuckle, his antenna shifting around as she spoke. "I understand your hesitation, and while Stratos was a symbol of oppression or one of status if you were one of the privileged. Your world has certainly had its struggles, not unlike my own home world or earth itself. I hope things are getting better. For me, as ship and the clouds have always represented freedom. The freedom to do as I please and go where I want. Which leads me to to the first rule. The first rule is love. Love keep a ship in the air when she ought to crash. She'll let you know when she's hurting and it's what makes her a home."

“I like that. And I definitely didn’t learn that at the Academy. I’m sure their first rule was something more like ‘don’t close your eyes while flying.’ And I appreciate what it means to you; I have friends who have said similar things about what they love about flying. With a shuttlecraft that feels harder for me to see. But with a ship like this one, thinking of it as a home definitely helps. A lot. Still not sure that I will ever become a true pilot, but knowing that I might have family around me to help me not crash is comforting.”

"Not everyone is meant to become a Starship pilot, as much as I am romanticizing it there is still a lot of math and skill involved. I can probably help you at least get comfortable flying a shuttle. It sounds like you've got the maintenance side covered," Obav let out a chuckle. "And when the time comes that you do crash, hopefully you'll have the skill to crash softly so everyone makes it."

“Math I can do. Give me something to derive, I’m your woman for that flight. And I will absolutely take learning how to crash softly. Just superficial damage, everyone inside okay even though Starfleet doesn’t believe in seatbelts for some inexplicable reason.” She finally relaxed a bit. She hasn’t expected to open up to the Lieutenant about her fears, but did feel better for the chance to be honest about it. Leveling expectations made her less anxious about the future rotation through Flight. “I do have another question, Chief. You mentioned earlier that you are a ‘raucous’ group. What exactly did you mean by that?”

"I say this as someone still a little new myself, but those of us in the Flight department tend to be loud, and have a love for causing chaos," Obav smiled at the thought. "You'll have to get use to us being a little extra wile you're in the department. We're the frat boys of the starship."

"Ah, I think I understand now. You do remember that I'm coming straight from the Academy, Chief? Frat boys is something I am used to, although I think in San Francisco they go by 'Red Squadron,'" the cadet smirked. "No offense if you happen to be an alum of that fine, upstanding institution. In any case, yes, I am used to the pilots who are 'a little extra.' Always threw the best parties, always managed to get out of demerits for the things the rest of us couldn't get away with, always replacing the synthale with real alcohol..."

"I was a part of Red Squadron, one of the first to join after Red Squadron was reinstituted at the academy," Obav couldn't help the laugh. "I would love to tell you I didn't help start some of those traditions but I am sure that I did. I know you're new, you can't even call me by my name after all."

"Well, on behalf of all the cadets who benefited from the festive Red Squadron traditions you started, thank you, Lieutenant th'Villos... and for all the cadets who suffered from the terrible Red Squadron traditions you started, respectively, what the hell?" She laughed back.

"No one should be suffering because of what I started," Obav said with a laugh, he waved one of his hands. "If they are, I'll need to return to the academy and set some people straight."

Pallas looked suddenly serious. She stared into her glass for a long moment before looking Obav directly in his eyes, as if determining whether she could trust him. "You might, actually. No one there will talk about it, and I'm not sure even the Commandant has learned lessons from recent years. Nothing like supporting a coup, but there is definitely a real danger happening with them. They keep trying to one up previous Red Squadrons. One of my pilot friends was in close with some of them last year, and it sounds like what was previously an ongoing joke--'Who is going to finally pull off the Kolvoord Starburst?'--is becoming less and less of a joke. Some of them are trying it again."

"I've got some friends at the academy I can clue in, as thrill seeking and experienced as I am, I don't know that I would try that maneuver. To many things that can go wrong with four others I couldn't control," Obav's antenna had gone up in surprise. "The coup was an issue. It was why the squadron was shut down for a while. I thought we'd addressed that."

She nodded. "I'm aware, Chief. No offense intended. It's not the same institution, that was my point. And putting themselves in danger isn't anything close to what happened before. It wasn't even Red who bit it last time trying that maneuver thirty years ago, either. Just sharing what I know. I hope I didn't make things awkward. I really do appreciate your philosophy on flight and understanding of my particular hesitancy."

"There's always someone wanting to push the envelope, it doesn't surprise me that the idea popped up," Obav's antenna turned inwards toward each other in an Andorian shrug. "A younger me even toyed with the idea, before deciding not to. Sometimes it's just talk, sometimes it's real. The key is figuring out which is which."

"I suppose that's why it felt right to tell you. A former member who helped reconstitute the Squadron would be able to figure that out better than anyone else. Plus, you said you like raucous, Chief, and what's more raucous than getting your hands dirty with a bunch of wannabe-future-yous?" She waved to the server, motioning for another for herself. "You need a refill?"

"That sounds good, I could use another drink," He answered, with a nod. "And I'm not exactly in charge at the academy, I can give a heads up but there isn't much I can do to intervene. I can only hope the right people make the right choices."

Pallas looked at the server, who had heard Obav and nodded in acknowledgment. "You know how cadets are. We will tell you that we're listening to the administration, but we're only going to listen to people we respect. If the Commandant himself came to them, they might say, 'Yes sir, of course sir, we would never dream of breaking the rules' to his face, and then go and do it anyway because, what does he know, he's not a pilot, he's not on the cutting edge, pushing the limit and making history in the cockpit. If they heard it from a former member..." Pallas shrugged. "Maybe they'd still do the same thing. Anyway, your the senior officer, not me, I would never tell you what to do, Chief. Just making observations, as annoying cadets are sometimes known to do."

"Or, they'll do what I did, and think that the person trying to talk them out of it was forced by a superior officer to tell them it wasn't a good idea," Obav answered her. "Most people who want to fly are thrill seekers, and are stupid enough to do things they shouldn't. I find my thrill seeking in racing or in the ring. Not always the best outlets."

"Fair enough." Their refills arrived, and Pallas quickly finished the tiny bit of her last drink before the server took it. "I meant about what cadets will do. As for your thrill seeking, I don't know about racing, but I box, and I actually find it quite a healthy outlet. Seems like good training for the rest of life, or at least a good amount of it. What about you, Chief, what's your ring sport? Kharakom, or one of the apparently thousand kinds of Earth martial arts I keep learning about?"

"That's a good guess, but it's not the only Andorian marital art there is. We even have one with a similar philosophy to Akido. I am much more the type to go in head first," Obav smirked, before picking up his fresh glass and taking a drink from it. "You any good?"

"At going in head first? Absolutely, Chief," she smirked back. "At martial arts in general? No. My schedule at the Academy with three majors was too packed for more than one extracurricular, and there wasn't much opportunity for that growing up on Ardana. But boxing specifically, I'm pretty good. Co-captain of the Academy team last year. Trying to keep it up now, even being away from the team and the scheduled fights."

"Three majors? Why don't you just say you're smarter than I am?" Obav couldn't help but grin. "Are you going to be able to finish the academy on time? If you ever want to get into the ring, I have no problem doing so but I've fought in some pretty cut throat places."

"Being able to cram more classes into each semester by surrendering my personal life and free time... I'm not sure that my choice is actually evidence of me being 'smarter' than you, Chief. Maybe the opposite," she chuckled at herself. "I've already finished my coursework. It was a condition of being released for the Training Cruise; I'm pretty sure the Academy had the same fear that I wouldn't finish on time if I went gallivanting around the Quadrant with requirements still hanging over me." Pallas rolled her shoulders back and stretched her neck. She hadn't thought about what she had pulled off while going through it the last three years, but having someone else say it out loud put it in perspective. Some vague feelings of regret came over her, which she quickly shook off, turning to Obav's offer. "I would appreciate a sparring partner, Chief, but I am not particularly interested in getting brain damage by trying to box against someone practicing a more intensive martial art. Not going to bring a knife to a gun fight, as the humans say, I think. On the other hand, if you want to teach me something new, I'm always up for learning."

"There is a big difference between sparring and trying to knock the other person silly. While I do enjoy the thrill of the fight I don't want to just hurt people," Obav said with a nod. "It would be a little sparring round, get to know each other a little better in the ring. I didn't mean to insinuate anything about your drive, I did what I had to so I could get through the academy. You achieved a lot, you should be proud of that honestly."

“I am. And thank you. I’m up for sparring anytime, so long as you leave me with enough brain cells that Doctor Svidi doesn’t fire me for incompetence. Which, working for her, feels a little bit like it’s always right around the corner,” she said with a quick smile but also seeming half serious. “And I’m guessing if either of us went around trying to hurt someone in the ring, Doctor Svidi would probably do worse to us!”

==END==