USS Lexington

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Reacquaintance

Posted on Fri Oct 1st, 2021 @ 1:09pm by Lieutenant JG Moriah Ama
Edited on on Wed Oct 6th, 2021 @ 1:49am

Mission: S1, E0: We need each other.
Location: USS Lexington Shuttle Bay
Timeline: MD001 1702 hours
830 words - 1.7 OF Standard Post Measure


Lieutenant JG Dhia Farooq wasn't accustomed to others waiting on her. The former Potočnik helmswoman hardly warranted such deference despite promoting several weeks ago, though she was relieved that her rank had otherwise lived up to one of her shipmates christening of 'the invisibility cloak.' Largely left to her own agency even as she ventured further from the conversance of her previous ship, the Malay pilot was surprised to hear the neat, dark-skinned lieutenant she'd glimpsed during her shuttle's touchdown inside Lexington's shuttle bay recite her name. . .at least until a couple more steps down the boarding ramp brought her face into better focus.

"Lieutenant Ama." She was familiar to Dhia, if not exactly expected. Only a handful of Lexington's positions showed filled as of her reassignment despite being projected to launch in a week, the suspected cause of which she personally experienced through the three-day span that from her accepting the transfer to making the necessary movement to relocate. Personnel's attempts to re-staff the fleet perpetuated the foregone war's frenetic currents.

"Thank you for accepting this posting," Moriah bade in earnest. "I was worried that my attempt to dodge teaching might've been in vain." The ranking officer as of their last interaction, Dhia's deferring bearing inadvertently prodded Moriah's disappointment with failing to make flight control lead as a full lieutenant. It was the only hitch she expected of her new deputy, however. Dhia was capable, yet lacked the hubris that demanded more positional margin to keep in check.

"I'm not sure there's really a way to avoid that, Lieutenant," Dhia replied, half-smiling. The ravaging of Starfleet's leadership by the Klingons' siege on Starbase 1 created an extensive personnel vacuum; academy faculty were among the top replacement candidates, who in turn were succeeded by frontline veterans. She imagined that surviving hospital ship flight crews were among those sought as instructors given that their talents were a cornerstone of their ships' limited tactical recourse.

"I can deal with training and developing people," clarified Moriah in the midst of a nod. "It's flying a desk I'm not ready for. And since my hope of assuming department leadership with a full band didn't come to pass," she continued, having indicatively raised a semi-banded sleeve, "Moriah will do."

Dhia blinked. A grade separated them at their first meeting, a gap she'd expected to persevere.

Moriah shrugged, having decided herself done with expending energy ruminating on that which wasn't. Leading them into an amble away from the shuttle, she then asked: "So why'd you choose a five-year mission?" Their familiarity with one another had came about under the duress of war and thus had untold room for growth.

"It was all I thought about when I joined Starfleet," Dhia enthused. Once a formulaic answer, indignation at the ease with which a fractured Klingon Empire managed to deliver war to the Federation's doorstep had since emerged as a strong alternative motivator for enlistment. "My family wasn't keen on me going into space, but the more stories I heard, the more I rared to go. But I graduated just in time to be drafted into the war."

"I'd barely spent a year on the Omamori before I was voluntold for the Laënnec. Which was just as well; Omamori was a casualty of the Klingon houses trying one-up each other. Some tried to add Laënnec to their tally, but while she isn't as maneuverable, she has some of the strongest screens in the fleet." An impish grin crept onto Moriah's face. "That's why I'm here."

Dhia's brow furrowed in confusion. "I don't follow."

"As pilots, we believe ourselves capable of outwitting any hazard, obstacle, or adversary, especially at the controls of something agreeably responsive. But the war taught me the value of endurance: when you can't—which Klingon ship design and battle tactics often ensured to be the case—it's reassuring to know you're not doomed in one hit. Many ships suffered that fate out of the crew's desperation to avoid it."

"I understand," Dhia said, nodding. A Shepard-class ship, Potočnik was more or less a predecessor to the Constitution. The former was among the best defensive platforms within Starfleet despite getting on in age, so she understood her department lead's perspective. "But surely you have reasons for choosing Lexington other than other than screen strength."

"Certainly. If you're looking for a partner in tourism, you can give me a ring. But as far as encountering the unknown—and aggressive instances of the known are concerned, I'd rather do it aboard the fleet's most capable ship. I think we've earned the privilege of not having to dwell upon the suitability of our ship for a mission from the get-go," Moriah asserted after tapping Dhia's forearm.

Dhia chortled and grinned as they cleared the shuttebay threshold. "I can support that line of thinking."

 

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