Dark Eyes and Blue

Posted on 09 Nov 2020 @ 10:09am by Commander Calliope Zahn & Lieutenant Commander Roman Kavalar

Mission: M1 - Emergence
Timeline: MD 05 1000hrs
2040 words - 4.1 OF Standard Post Measure

"Kuvat to Commander Zahn," Came the nasally voice of the Denobulan manning Flight Control.

"Go ahead, Mr. Kuvat."

"The 7th Figher unit has been secured in docking bay three."

"Acknowledged."

One thing Calliope had never really worked with previously was Fighter pilot groups. She debated trying to bring herself up to speed on procedures and terms, but after the initial panic about her lack of experience passed she had to shrug. What about this post wasn't a leap while building her wings on the way down?

So she had another drink from her thermos as she walked to her office door and manually set it to remain open for her expected guest before she returned and continued the work she already had before her.

---

The ride in the tubolift was interesting, every bump, every judder and the lighting intermittently fading then returning to normal while the control panel would be synched with the lighting, de-focus and re-focus as the levels flew by. His impression on the state of the starbase didn’t improve when an engineering tech joined him in the lift, he carried tech gear with him and he looked grimy and haggard. It took him a few moments for the tech to tell the panel where he wanted to go before he noticed he was sharing a lift as he glanced over revealing eyes that were leaden too. The tech in turn saw a pilot with dark swept back hair though a little frazzled with pale skin and angular features, still in his flight uniform but with a bomber jacket sporting his squadron badge below his com badge on his chest, he was also tired. They reached the same destination and Roman paused to let the other man go ahead, it was a small gesture but he felt it mattered.

Making his way to the XO's office the signs in the corridor were similar to what the starbase had suffered externally though not as severe, still there was debris about and who knew how extensive it was on other decks. What had he got his squadron into now as he carried on.

When he knocked on the door jamb, Calliope looked up. "Is that Commander Kavalar? Come in, please." With a welcome smile, Calliope stood and walked around her desk to greet him.

The female voice welcoming him in as he entered followed by warm smile brought a smile of his own to match, “Commander, its good to finally be here”, he replied warmly. His eyes quickly traversed his surroundings, an old pilot thing, know your immediate space at all times. He thought tactically most times until he knew the surroundings and he knew the rules, each command had their own style, he’d served on enough carriers to walk carefully at first. The person he expected to deal with the most was the XO. Certainly he would receive overall orders from the Captain but daily matters it was this person right here. The green tone of her skin implied orion, interesting, he’d heard a little about orions but beyond the stock standard view of any species such as vulcans who were logical, ferengi who were business opportunistic, orions well… he would wait and see.

The office was lit mostly by the ceiling strip of back-up lighting and one lamp on the desk that was casting long shadows everywhere. There were a few bins of boxed up things from the last XO, but aside from those, the room was decently furnished, if impersonal. Kavalar could also count more doors, one to a wash room, and a rear exit to the unused command office lobby. Faux view-ports were darkened, with no power to change the holographic imagery.

Calliope stopped in front of him and decided to play out formalities in order to give them both the opportunity to gauge one another. She held out a hand to accept his orders, the formality of transfers.

Roman handed over the padd, as a moment of something passed over him, perhaps tiredness, he wasn’t sure as he blinked away the notion and retained his focus. He was good at that, his will to push through most things and get it done. In this case reporting to his superior officer as he took a half step back to give them both space.

Calliope scrolled the padd and then looked back up at Roman. She felt right away that the lines in his face had a lot in common with the aerodynamics of a fighter ship and his piercing blue eyes seemed lit from within. "These look in order." She confirmed them and set the padd down on her desk. "We're all very thankful to have your wing transferred here. I'll brief you on our situation as far as we know it. But first," She motioned to one of the chairs. "Please, take a seat. I have some questions about you and about the Fire Tigers."

A moment to relax as he settled into the offered chair and felt the surface of the chair slide up his back, it felt good to just sit. But now he felt a little grimy, cleanliness in a fighter over an extended duration had its limitations as he moved in the chair. Looking across he noted the many freckles she had but wasn’t sure why he had noticed in the first place, perhaps the trip here had been more tiring than he thought. The mention of his wing being transferred to the starbase got his attention and he sat up a bit more attentively, he was curious about where the starbase was in terms of readiness and started with a question of his own, “What do you need to know which isn’t already in the squadrons operational reports that came ahead of our arrival Commander”, Roman asked lightly.

"Tell me about those serving with the Fire Tigers. I'm particularly interested in the kinds of things I won't learn just from their service records."

Roman’s gaze hardened a little, they were diving right into it, it seemed to him as his mind began to look at the question being asked from a number of angles. Pausing to gather his thoughts for a moment as he looked away for a moment he started slowly, “That’s an interesting question you’re asking me, we’re an eclectic group with an abundances of humans in the squadron, I guess that’s just the luck of the draw as to the personnel assigned. I’ve been in command of them for the last five years both directly and indirectly depending on if the combat situation called for me being on the carrier directing flight ops. It’s a well balanced squadron with a mix of veterans and young pilots but mainly a solid core of experienced pilots. The Fire Tigers take on all aerospace missions”, he said with a hint of pride, “with a high success rate including minimal casualties but aerospace combat is what they’re good at. However there’s always room for improvement and I’m hoping once they meet the other squadrons….”, letting the sentence trail off and waiting for Zahn to reply.

She was very focused as he gave his overview of the squadron, her dark eyes wide and head nodding as she got the general demographic and picked up on the measured pride in his tone. But when he brought up the idea of other squadrons, she knew he already had an idea what the answer was going to be. "Yes, about that." Calliope cleared her throat and rested her hands on her knees. "The 9th Fleet already has most resources in play elsewhere. As the recovery of Obsidian Command wasn't exactly foreseen very far in advance, it's been challenging to have enough support allocated very quickly. What I'm trying to say is... there aren't any other wings currently assigned to the station. We are preparing every runabout with a crew to use in patrol and scramble for engagement if necessary. I'd recommend you introduce yourself to Lt. Samantha Cavendish. She's organizing the support craft."

The response was not unexpected and from what little he knew about the OC so far confirmed his suspicious. Nodding his head in understanding he did what he always did, he got on with what he had and what he needed to do, “Tough assignment for us all then Commander”, a wry smile forming. “Good to know I can stay clear of the runabouts if Cavendish is looking after them, I’ll touch base with her and perhaps we can map out some tactical exercises working together. Also I’ll need an overlay of what Aerospace is covering, what our perimeters from the starbase out are and what kind of roles you have lined up for us initially as likely I expect they’ll change once things begin to firm up here”, glancing around the room to emphasis the unpacked nature of the room and by extension the starbase in general. “I’ve quartered the pilots near their fighters for now, as a matter of practical considerations for response times. Oh one last thing and perhaps a favour, we brought some of our support crew with us, they’re good at what they do but they’re a little loose on formalities so I’ve given then some lee-way as they pretty much live in their overalls. I’d like them to stay under my command if that’s possible”

"Naturally." She sensed a pattern not unlike the Marines. They were a unit and stuck together on and off duty. "One less thing I have to worry about. Put in any requests you need for kipping out and someone from ops will send it down for you." Calliope got up to her desk once again and made a secure copy of the tactical briefings on a datarod and brought it back to him. "This is an overview of the latest tactical briefings. For now your wing will be rotated into the system patrols. I'll take your advice on how you would like to structure the patrol assignments."

Roman rose as well getting ready to leave as he received the datarod, “Yes I have a few ideas on that."

"Station sensors are impaired and we have to compensate until they can be powered properly and repaired. Everyday we have a number of anomalous readings from the larger ships on patrol that need checked out more closely. Sensor shadows and radiation spikes, that sort of thing." Sensing that Roman was ready to get to business, Calliope decided to reserve any further curiosity about the fighter wing for another time."Go ahead and take the time you need to review the Tactical briefing and make your recommendations for patrol. If there's nothing else you're dismissed."

"If the big ships pick up something worth investigating we can check it out and see if it needs following up on. Commander”, were his parting words before leaving.

Outside and making his way back to the turbolift he reflected on his meeting with the XO. It had been straight forward which was a good sign to him of things going forward, as he disliked overly circuitous conversations, still he wasn’t sure why he found himself staring on occasion. In the turbolift riding it down back to aerospace country while tapping the datarod on his lips his mind quickly returned to business as he pushed all other thoughts aside including those dark eyes of hers. Before he’d thought a flight patrol, flight on standby and a flight on stand down would suffice for a daily rotation due to their present circumstance but that wouldn’t work now he decided, now that he knew they were blind out there. They needed eyes out there. Having a flight of fighters on standby and a flight stood down per shift would work but the remaining flight might have to be split up into pairs and respond to some of these anomalous readings the XO had mentioned. The turbolift ground to a shuddering halt at the deck level of his destination as the doors slowly opened up. Getting out he hopped things would get better.