31/05/2016 at 22:27 #10484
Personal Log, Lt. Adele Mundy, TSN Eagle, 2nd Flt, 4LD
More of the same: still on light duty, on best behaviour, under observation and doing sims while Xavier is still at the enquiry. Lt. Assassino was another officer called to testify at the enquiry, so he missed the shift.
Dauntless has been recalled to Command for adjustments, to the chagrin of her fighter pilots; Dauntless‘ crew has been transferred to Montgomery; Montgomery‘s crew have returned to Lancer. They were very restrained about it while they were still on station, but I heard, via Matsiyan, the cheers erupt once they were aboard…
On Eagle, we had Lt. Cmdr. Allard in command, Lt. Kennon Far on Engineering, Ens. Slate on SciComms, and a new Cadet, Raiden, on Tactical. Which left me on Helm, and the only reason that happened was that as XO I put everyone else where on the station they preferred. Or perhaps I was being fiendishly clever, and reminding people that the only time I should be on Helm is when no real ships or sentient beings might be harmed. It only took one sim for Allard to agree.
Not surprisingly, we switched stations for the second sim. Cdt. Raiden did pretty well on Helm, Kennon stayed on Engineering, I took SciComms, Slate went to Tactical. There were instances where weapons hit unintended targets, but it wasn’t just our weapons. Lancer was blown up twice, and we were nowhere near her…
I don’t know if it’s just because of being in a simulation, or simply because we’re warming up at the beginning of the shift. In an ideal world, we’d be totally concentrated from the minute we step onto the bridge, real or simulated. In reality, there was a lot of chatter going on, certainly on Eagle, perhaps on some of the other ships too, and it interfered with inter-ship communications. Allard and Far are both cheerful, talkative sorts, and when they’re on the same bridge their voices easily cover up incoming orders. Adding to that the fact that Cdt. Raiden needed more detailed guidance than a more experienced helmsman, it meant that several times I was the only person who heard the orders from Fleet Command, and had to tell the captain where we were supposed to be going.
Even our mission, when we were assigned one, suffered from confusion. Originally we were supposed to patrol through Volantis Sector, to Sierra Gate and through, but Sierra Gate was experiencing technical problems, so our instructions were changed to reaching Sierra Gate and returning. We stayed on the same stations we had filled during the second sim, and I did my utmost to continue to relay the Fleet Commander’s orders whenever Allard talked over them and missed them; or when he decided to head in one direction just before being told to go somewhere else entirely.
It was a routine patrol, interrupted by a few pirates and some minor encounters; and that meant that Allard decided it was a good time to start experimenting with the ship’s drive and helm systems, to fool it into flying backwards at warp speed – which the ship is not designed to do. And then to raise questions such as, might it be possible to fire the beams or to mine one’s own ship while flying backwards? I am delighted to report that the answer to the first question is no, and that the second question was not put to the test, because cooler heads prevailed. Also known as the Science Officer/XO and the Weapons Officer both pointing out, with all due respect, sir, what a terrible idea it was.
I think it was on our return into Promethean that the captain, still busy discussing the technicalities of flying in reverse, gave orders to set a course for Command base before the Fleet Commander actually said so. Allard has a thing for getting back home first. As a result, Eagle was sent off to patrol a perfectly safe nebula, and docked well after everyone else. I was half expecting we’d all have to write out “I must not take off before hearing what our orders are” one hundred times, but Allard seemed oblivious to the obvious rebuke.
Now back in Promethean Sector we started a live fire exercise, and then the systems running it failed – more tech problems – so we went back to a simulation, which is probably a good thing, from the amount of friendly fire incidents that occurred. And one of them was my fault, since I was on Tactical and I hit Phoenix. On the other hand, we were caught in a nuke blast, and I have no recollection where that came from, so we’re probably even. With someone. Somewhere.
You see, Computer? It’s catching. If the commanding officer can’t take the situation seriously, I end up being flippant as well, because, dammit, why should I take it personally? And I understand it’s a fine balance, we can’t be grimdark and brooding on the injustices of the universe all the time, so if we’re going to let concentration slip, it might as well be during a simulation where no real damage will be done. On the other hand, the chatter had also been going on while we were on the mission, and it was a struggle to follow what the fleet was supposed to be doing, so that I could repeat it when we were asked, “By the way, did anyone hear our orders?” Sigh.
After all of which, I went and spent a good chunk of my supposed off-duty time inventorying equipment for the sim suites that are being prepared for the cadets and aspiring Academy applicants who will be visiting the education event, so I deserve some food and a relaxing beverage in the bar now.
01/06/2016 at 15:40 #10594Blaze StrifeParticipant
- This topic was modified 4 years, 11 months ago by Adele Mundy. Reason: Added italics
//It’s refershing to sometimes have an easy duty shift. 😛02/06/2016 at 06:25 #10638
//We made up for it with extra excitement in the bar, thanks to you 🙂21/06/2016 at 05:02 #12005
Mundy’s Log, supplemental:
// Descriptions of rooms in Paragon City Hall are what appears in the log from this point on; they are the anchor points for the log text, which is memorised.
Charlie Sparks, in the S.E.R.A.P.H. office, stands in front of a wall, facing West, with a wide glass window. Just in front of the window is a wide desk, with two office chairs, two computers, a microscope, two racks of vials..
Several officers were in the bar already when I arrived, still dusty from packing up equipment for the cadet event. (Which, by the way, leads me to think that the air filters in the storage rooms need replacing, because there really shouldn’t be any significant dust anywhere on the station. Or else there is some hitherto unknown law of the universe by which dust will self-generate given a large enough number of storage containers in one place.) Hall, Garion, Slate, van Leigh, Aramond, and then Matsiyan, just before I arrived. We settled in with our food and drink, chatting. Then Blaze made his dramatic entrance.
Through the window I look into a laboratory, with white tiled floor, a work bench, two medical gurneys (one with a black body bag on it), a medical full body scanner.
Blaze staggered in, gasped “That bastard!” and collapsed onto the floor, with a knife in his back.
Following the wall round the corner and facing South, the wide glass windows continue, and I can see there are also metal cabinets in the lab, computer databanks, tanks of gas, though I can’t read any labels on them.
Aramond went chasing out of the room to see if he could catch the person who stabbed Blaze; van Leigh went to examine the wound; Matsiyan called security and medical teams; I rushed to the bar to get the emergency medkit.
Outside are three massive metal crates, and, as I face the door in the furthest West wall, a woman who may be guarding the crates, or the door: her codename is Shadowstar. She wears a black leather suit, and there is a strange effect of shadow, or perhaps smoke, that masks her face.
Major Johnson of the Marines arrived, with two EMTs and two Marines; they stabilised Blaze and set up security in the bar, the usual protocols, nobody in or out.
There is, naturally, a keypad by the door.
Garion and Hall started searching through station sensors for any sign of an escaping craft, deducing that the culprit would attempt to flee.
Along the North wall of the room, in order, a gurney, some wheeled medical equipment, some kind of portable scanner with a small monitor, a metal case, a microscope, an assortment of glass test tubes and vials, and Rebecca Brinell in her white lab coat, taking notes and taking no notice of me.
Major Johnson and two Marines followed the trail of Blaze’s blood to the closed door of a nearby conference room. According to the cameras, two people had entered and only one had left. The Marines opened the door and discovered the body of an Arvonian, who had committed suicide by ingesting poison.
Further along the North wall, more bookcases, with long desks in front of them and chairs haphazardly placed, as if someone had just stood up from them. Kip Cantorum, jeans, white T-shirt, long blond ponytail, is taking notes.
Major Johnson then declared that there must be a second Arvonian still on board the station, since Arvonian spies always work in pairs. He gave instructions to all personnel to activate their side arms for self defence; and to search for the spies’ shuttle, probably still connected to the base somewhere, and for the shuttle’s main ship, somewhere in the vicinity. This search to be the main focus of naval activity effective immediately.
And out we go into the hallway again, continuing North to the wide double door where the sign says G.I.F.T. Genetic Investigation and Facilitation Team… and yes, someone got paid to come up with this acronym too. This is where we used to go most of the times we went to City Hall: my mother used to know the people here, from her work at Crey Industries.
That led van Leigh and Aramond to call on Feil to scramble a fighter and search for the Arvonian shuttle; but the Fleet Captain countermanded the order.
The room looks more like a library than anything else, at first glance: to the left of the door, facing West, are five rows of tall bookcases, all of them full, and a chair with its back against the end of each bookcase. But if you go past them all, and walk along the last bookcase to the West wall, there is a door with its keypad lock. I have never been past that door.
The investigating security teams found a device planted by the Arvonians, clearly with a timer of some sort. Matsiyan attempted to disarm it, without success. The search for the remaining agent continued, and Matsiyan and I realised that hundreds, if not thousands, of Academy applicants would be arriving within hours, to make the search more complicated.23/06/2016 at 20:37 #12261Blaze StrifeParticipant
//It’s always nice to peer inside Adele’s skull. 🙂23/06/2016 at 21:41 #12270
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