Requalifications tests are a pain!

Posted on Thu Feb 24th, 2022 @ 1:16am by Captain Natacha Patani

Mission: MISSION 0 - History Speaks
Location: Hanger deck
Timeline: MD 8; 1030 Hours
3295 words - 6.6 OF Standard Post Measure

(OOC: Events take place prior to Handoff: https://usselysium.com/index.php/sim/viewpost/2497)

Winston read the memo, requalification time, His being volen-told to get the pilot qualified in case of an emergency seemed good at the time, but having certifications tests every 90 days was a pain. He reported to the crew chief, who looked at the W.E.G.E. board and said, "Your backseater is Captain Natacha, she's is the ready room waiting on you, I would bring her hot coffee immediately, if not sooner... if you want to pass!"

Winston grabbed a big zero gravity coffee mug and went to the dispenser. He figured he would risk looking up past orders, and see how captain Natacha liked their coffee. That took all of ten seconds. The first query, MarDet XO, or the Marine Detachment eXecutive Officer, favorite coffee recipe, then Winston filled the coffee container and headed to the ready room.

Walking in, Winston said, "Captain, your coffee is ready along with your ride!"

"I'm already fixed for tea, but thank you, Corporal," the darker-skinned officer said from her seat, lifting her steel cup in the Corporal's direction. In the short time she had been the Detachment's Executive Officer, she had made a point of trying to spend time with all the detachment's marines. Which is why she was happy to serve as the unit's check ride officer whenever possible, on those crafts she was checked out on.

Standing up, she noticed immediately that the noncommissioned officer she was grading today was definitely taller and bulkier than her. Not that the difference bothered the Marine Captain. Being a child of Randeer Three made Natacha good for more than just opening pickle jars.

Finishing her tea, Natacha set her cup down and, motioning with her hand with her PADD in it, she instructed the Corporal, "If you'll lead the way?"

Winston stood still, in shock. He could have sworn that his XO was male, but obviously, she was female. Once he noticed, he could not un-notice. His query was XO MarDet and Coffee recipe, which should have....Then he realized...He had not specified the current MarDet XO...

He realized he was still staring...Normally did not even notice the difference between soldiers, except Caitian's, it was hard to miss. He tried to reboot his brain, but it was still stuck on the fact that he was staring at a female and his superior. Then he noticed the bars, he knew that the XO was normally an officer, but his brain still had not put it together. He mentally face-palmed and tried to get his brain to work. What was wrong with him. He had to do something, and grasping at straws, said, " Yes sir... I mean Ma'am!"

He set the no longer needed coffee cup on the table, turned, and marched out of the ready room. He was positive he was going to be pulling the mid-watch cleaning the toilets with toothbrushes. He tried to salvage something and said, "Our orders are stealth recon mission, Moon J314221, scout, scoot, and boot, with minimal observation methods. That means we get seen, our cover is blown."

Natacha nodded silently. If she noticed the corporal's discomfort, she gave no visible indication of it. Instead, she grabbed her bag and waited to follow.

Grabbing his go-bag off of the shelf in the back, he double-checked his equipment and the seals on his flight helmet. Hopefully, he could recover from his faux pass and recover his standing, or he would be somewhere in the backwaters of the galaxy, guarding a dairy farm in the back end of nowhere. In Starfleet, you trained like you fight, and fought like your trained. Most of the time, the training was one hundred times worse than the actual fight. looking at the green light indicating that a good atmosphere was on the other side, he held his breath, and hit the hatch release to access the hanger bay, waited for it to slide open, then stepped through, It was always hard stepping through trusting, that something had not gone wrong, and the air was going to be violently sucked out of your lungs. He managed to step through and headed towards spot 13, where his assigned Gryphon fighter/bomber was waiting. The replacement for the old AH-12 phoenix was met with mixed feelings, Winston prefered the sturdier Phoenix, whereas the Gryphon looked like it would fall apart in a strong wind. Starfleet Engineering made things smaller and sleeker, but he preferred sturdy and heavy-duty. Doing a quick walk around, he examined the flight control surfaces and, made sure that all the Pull before flight pins had been removed.

Natacha silently followed Winston around, watching his preflight check of the craft but making no comment.

Grabbing the oversized Padd from the brown shirt that was his plane captain, he looked over the records and maintenance logs. This indicated everything that had been done to his bird. He looked over at the green shirt holding the ladder for him to get in the cockpit. He handed the Padd back to the brown shirt. He handed his bag to the green shirt, and said, "Thanks!" Winston climbed his ladder and sat in his seat. With a force of habit, he looked down at the ejection seat handle, and verified, that the safety pin was pulled and that the motor status indicator was green. Reaching up, he took his bag from the green shirt and put it in the side compartment, then pulled the pannel down over it. He waited until his backseater had performed the same operation, then started the preflight checklist. He could do this in his sleep, he had spent over 5,000 hours in the simulator before they would even let him fly one of these things.

He heard his backseater echo his checklist, indicating that she had the same green status indicators. "So Captain, do I take it easy, or can I open it up?" It was normally wise to see if your backseater did not mind you hot-dogging it, if they did, you would not want to upset the person who held your future in their hands.

"Whatever you think is consistent with mission parameters," Natacha replied, with no hint in her voice on whether she would approve or disapprove of Winston "hotdogging it."

It took less than 30 seconds to perform the hot start and power up procedure and he waited an additional 15 seconds to ensure the powerplant was running smooth, and the propulsion system was stable. "Flight control, Whiskey-24, startup complete, requesting undocking and flight clearance!"

he heard flight control say "Whiskey-24, you are cleared for launch, maintain heading 320 mark zero for 25KM then follow your assigned flight plan, do not exceed .15c inside my engagement area. Good luck Rhino."

He grimaced at his call sign, you don't get to pick your own. Your teammates assign it to you. His was something about he would not stopping once he got started. He replied, "Flight control, Whiskey-24, cleared for launch, maintain 320 mark zero for 25km, not to exceed .15c, roger Whiskey-24, out"

He looked back, and said, "Any last words, Captain?"

"We are good to go, Corporal," Natacha answered.

He held the flight stick in neutral as the hanger bay automatic launch and recovery system moved him by tractor beam into the launch position.
With a quick visual of his status indicators, no warnings were indicated. He saluted the control pod that stuck out slightly giving primary flight control an overhanging view of the hanger deck/launch area. This was the part that he hated, the wait for the system to actually throw him out into space. he heard the echoing Launching in 3,2,1,0 and then gravity shifted.

"horseshoe crab" he muttered." He always hated this part.

If Natacha had heard Winston's comment, she chose not to respond.

They had antigravity systems, but the effect of a stationary object accelerating to 100 meters per second, was never a smooth process. He monitored the speed approach take-off velocity. The most dangerous time of the mission was landing and taking off. The pilot had few options if something went wrong, and only two places to go. Going back was seldom an option. Once they left the immediate vicinity of the ship, he opened the throttle up. He kept an eye on his sensor systems, there was nothing in front of him for quite a ways. He continued to accelerate to .10 C. That meant that in relative no time at all they were going 10 percent of the speed of light. "Ok!" He said, "Launch complete, following the flight plan."

In the back, Natacha ran a check on all the weapons systems. The Gryphon had been designed to take all sorts of physical abuse, including the stress of continual launch and recovery. Nonetheless, entropy always showed up, particularly at the most inconvenient times. Mr. Murphy never took leave.

"All systems are green back here, Corporal," Natacha advised her pilot. "We are good to go."

"Plotting Nav course now.", he said. He took the fastest course using gravity wells to boost his speed and allow him to once he got started only use his main engines for course changes. These changes he made happen over planetary poles, that way the chance of discovery was minimal. He double-checked that nav data. This part was easy, some people had difficulty with "N" space math and dimensions, he did not. He did not like that mind-numbing job that they had to do every day, He got to uses explosives, had an ever-changing scenery, and got to travel, most pilots did not. So whenever the conversation switched to hey you should do this full time, he always managed to practice his escape and evasion skills, and be free. His plotted course was 1.5 hours there and 2.25 hours back. Smiling, he said, "Well we should be back in time for dinner!"

"The twentieth century Marshal Arjan Singh once remarked 'Jab aapakee yojana vaastavik duniya se milatee hai, to aapakee yojana hamesha badalatee rahatee hai.'" Natacha waited before translating, "When your plan meets the real world, your plan invariably changes. Let's get back to the Elysium before we make dinner plans."

20 minutes later, he made his first correction above a gas giant southern pole, using passive sensors, he tracked the things moving in the solar system, there were hundreds of large objects and thousands of smaller ones like spacecraft, and so far he had managed to avoid most of it, the fact that they were running standard required navigational aid lighting made them more observable, but not running them made them stand out even more. He chose to blend in and act like the rest of the ducks in the pond. There was even a valid flight plan that kinda matched his direction, and as long as no one looked too closely at him, he would blend in with the rest of the commuters out there. That and he did not have to risk breaking interstellar navigations laws. he kept glancing up and the rearview mirror that allowed him to look over his shoulder to see if someone was behind him. Which there was, but not behind his fighter. Then hit him, and he gasped out in surprise, "That was you, on my first day here, you got the rose in the mess hall during lunch!" He mentally slapped himself, way to go id-10-T. his career was about to be over. "S S Ssorry ma'am, I just realized!" He studdered in apology.

Natacha made no response, remaining silent in the backseat.

This was worse than when he asked the MarDet Armorer if she needed a hand. It seemed innocent at the time. She had caught her blouse on something, and he was offering to help put it back on, not take it off. That violent encounter had lasted less than two seconds, resulting in his left arm being dislocated, three broken ribs, and a mild concussion. Followed by a warning to avoid the armory for the next several weeks. He was a marine, how was he not supposed to not go to the armory. Fortunately, his squad leader took pity and got his gear for him, but the ribbing never stopped. He did manage to avoid her for almost four weeks before running into her at the mess hall. He was still alive, so maybe her desire to murder him had receded. he liked having his gear in his go locker, but that was only while he was alert status, and he could only keep that up for four weeks before he had to start visiting the MarDet Armory.

"I believe you may have me mistaken for another individual, Corporal," Natacha replied, but said nothing further.

Several minutes of uncomfortable silence followed, he finally decided whether he was dead or a marine and said" So did you hear about the Marine what managed to escape an attack of mustard gas and pepper spray.... He was a seasoned veteran...."

He waited a second for a reaction, they said," What did the Sargeant say to the marine about camouflage training? I didn't see you in training at all....

There were a few seconds of silence before Natacha responded, "Are you familiar with the one about the Marine and the nun?"

Winston felt relief, that maybe he might live through tomorrow, and said, "No, what happened?"

"It is before dawn, and a Cistercian nun, clad entirely in black, has left her cloister to attend chapel," Natacha began in a deadpan voice. "On her way, she collides with a Marine well into her cups. At the sight of the nun, the Marine's eyes went wide, and she immediately begins attacking the nun. In seconds, the nun is on the ground, unconscious. The drunken Marines leans over the nun and, with a sneer, announces 'Not as tough as a Marine, are you Batman?'"

Winston let out a belly laugh," That is funny, I will owe you several credits, I have several buddies and many family members to tell that to... or is it classified?"

Natacha was about to respond when something lit up on her LCARS. "Corporal, I believe I am picking up a Starfleet Standard automated distress signal."

The standard protocol for mission objectives during a time of war was SOS could wait until after the mission was done. They were not at war. He said rather loudly and excitedly, " Powering up all systems, bringing sensor systems to 150% going active!" The amount of electromagnetic radiation they were now putting out, would make them visible to everyone within a half of light year, but that did not matter. They were now on a rescue mission. "Tracking, located, freighter crash site on the dark side of that moon, Relaying data to all Starfleet vessels within range. Priority level Alpha! Altering course, prep for Max burn!" He then adjusted the course and firewalled the throttle, gravity tried to pull his braines out the back of his head and to the bottoms of his feet. He alternated clenching and unclenching his gut, as the inertial compensation systems struggled to keep up with this sudden burst of speed. He felt his flight suit compress his legs to try and keep the blood in his upper body where it belonged. The feeling of a giant hand shoving him down in his seat started to vanish after a moment as the system stabilized and the gravs systems were able to balance out the need for speed and being comfortable.

As soon as the Gryphon's inertial damping system kicked in, Natacha moved to check her comm system. "Atlantis is advising that the freighter is the SS Winged Hollander. Crashed six months ago, all the crew rescued. Supposedly the distress signal was disabled, but something in that moon's magnetosphere will occasionally reactivate it or mimic it. One or the other. That information should have been uploaded on our navcomputer. We'll need to check on that oversight once we get back to the Elysium," Natacha remarked dryly.

Winston sat still for a few seconds trying to fight the adrenalin in his system. The call to rescue was strong, and even though his brain knew it was a false alarm, his body was still trying to get there and help. Letting out a frustrated sigh, he put the systems back in normal and filed a request to alter his flight plan with the Elysium. while he was waiting, he tried breathing exercises to calm his mind and body, but they were not helping.

"Find a center in your mind, Corporal," Natacha advised, as if she somehow had surmised his mental state. Which, since she had access to the readout of the biostats from his suit, she did. "Adrenaline is a weapon, but now that weapon is not needed." She paused before adding, "I'll show you some techniques when we get back to the Elysium. After having written up a pass for your check ride. Assuming you don't do anything that will require a 'fail' between now and our recovery to the Elysium," Natacha added, a certain dryness in her voice as she said the last sentence.

Pull up his sensor system, he said, "I am going to do a full scan of the wreck as we fly by, just in case for one, and two so some other accident does not get blown off because of the assumption, oh it is the broked down freighter from 5 years ago and it turns out it is a new crash. I never did like the fairy tale about the boy who cried wolf! ETA 13 minutes at this speed."

Winston plotted the course to come as close as he could and started to get ready to scan for everything. They could over the data later, but if there was a spider on the wreck, he wanted to know its diet for the last two weeks and complete family history.

Then his memory about the lunch incident with the rose popped to the foreground, and he asked" Was the rose for Colonel Naxea then, I am confused, someone said it was yours, and that a flyboy had dropped it off for you." Winston then began to wonder if it was hazing and the new guy gets set up to be the but of many pranks. " Oohhh, was Liam covering for himself, and did not want to admit he had a soft spot....grrr I hate politics ....Drama QUEENS and pranks!"

"I assure you, Corporal, I have not been the recipient of a rose while on the Elysium, or any other member of the Order Rosales for that matter," Natacha said with an authoritative tone to her voice. There was the matter of the stuffed animal and the manner in which it had been delivered. Natacha knew her inaction on that episode was going to cost her her career, but she would deal with that when the Colonel returned.

"For now," she added, an edge of steel coming into her voice. "I suggest you focus on the wreck below."

As they flew by the wreck, he had the sensor system on the highest output he could get, and any seagull flying between them and the wreck would be laying hard-boiled eggs for the next year. Reading the data off as it came in...

The Gryphon's forward light clearly showed "Winged Hollander" on the hull of the wreck. In addition, the Gryphon's sensors showed no humanoid signs of life, no matter how much they were tweaked.

"It appears the notice was accurate, Corporal," Natacha remarked. "However, THAT might be the source of the distress signal." The THAT Natacha referred to was what looked like fireflies moving around the wreck of the freighter.

to be continued...