When a Zorro Meets Cheshire

Posted on Tue Jul 11, 2017 @ 6:38pm by Lieutenant JG Logan Hunter & Lieutenant Marisa Cheshire

Mission: Shore Leave
Location: Nellis Airbase Administration Office
Timeline: MD14 || 1030 hours

Ensign Logan James Hunter had finally squared away his gear in his temporary quarters after an emergency transport had brought him from the Luna to Earth the early hours of this morning. He was now traveling the base in search of the Lieutenant Cheshire's temporary office. Word had come down the grapevine yesterday the USS Triumphant had returned to Earth for repairs and that there had been casualties on their last mission. He was one of the recent Valkyrie Flight School graduates being assigned as a replacement pilot for the Triumphant's Air Wing.

Marisa got lucky, her shore leave coincided with a Red Flag, the Star Fleet Star Fighter Pilot Corps advanced training session held in Nevada. Her days would be spent flying live combat simulations against some of the best pilots in the fleet, and her evenings spent taking all of their credits at the Las Vegas strip. Dispite this she wasn't in the best of moods. In her hands was a PADD addressed to the family of one of the crewmen she'd lost in the mission. As she was a Thunderbird Alumnus the base commanders was kind enough to lone her an office.

In her tour on the boarder force she'd been pretty lucky and never lost anyone under her command, but it was a situation she thought she'd be able to deal with. Losing a few in one day while they were out of a cockpit was not something she'd prepared for however. And so, she stared at the blank screen with a familiar cursor flashing, as though mocking her, filled with impotent anger. She'd like to explain to the families exactly what failures in the Triumphant's design lead to their deaths, and how the killer would most likely not face anything close to justice. Not an insubstantial part of her anger was directed inwardly as well as she dwelt on things she could have done better. She knew that she'd couldn't say any of that, she knew that she'd have to give the normal platitudes one was supposed to give in this situation and nothing more.

The chime snapped her away from the taunting PADD cursor, causing her to shake her head to shake the scowl from her face. The last thing she wanted was to give the person behind the door the wrong impression. She grabbed a water canteen from under her desk and took a few big gulps before lowering it down to its original position and composing her self properly.

"Enter" she said after a sigh, linking her fingers together as she managed a soft but authoritative smile.

Logan entered and stepped forward as he visually scanned the room quickly. Valkyrie flight training had drilled into him the need to constantly scan surrounding and not get focused on a single aspect. Complacency in a cockpit could get one killed quicker than a heartbeat.

The office was a pretty average size, with the majority of light coming from the large window that faced into the vast Nevada desert. On the opposite side of that was a large screen that had a display of the system and the various flight beacons traveling through it updating once every few seconds. Behind the rather spartan grey desk was a jacket placed on a hook. It's upper sleeves were festooned in squadron emblems which seemed older than the jacket it's self and it's back embroidered with the insignia and wings of the 24th Carrier group.

Logan came to attention before Marisa's desk. "Sir, Ensign Hunter reporting for duty."

Marisa resisted the urge to sigh wearily, instead she managed to retain her poker face. "At ease Ensign." she said as she rose to her feet.

Logan handed over his PADD with his assignment orders, then returned to a position of attention. "I'm a replacement pilot, just graduated Valkryie flight training." He wasn't sure if now was a good time to have reported. Something was off, but he couldn't really identify what that something was.

Marisa took the PADD from the ensign and extended her hand out to the seat across the desk from hers. "Take a seat Mr Hunter." Marisa said while she sat on the edge of her desk and took a few moments to skim the contents.

"You've got a very strong academic record here Ensign," she said with a raised eyebrow. "I take it you had your first choice of assignments. It's not everyone's cup of tea but people with your profile do very well in Air Demonstration squads, and your background would have made you fairly competitive for a test pilot position." Her eyes lifted off the PADD and onto Logan with an appraising gaze. "So is there a particular reason as to why are you gracing my hangar with your presence Ensign?" she asked with genuine curiosity.

Logan took the offered seat, sitting with a straight back, hands evenly place on each thigh. He almost looked like he was at a sitting position of attention. "Honestly sir. My first choice was the USS Ascension, but her Carrier Air Wing only has one Valkyrie Squadron aboard. VMFA-323, the Death Rattlers, a marine fighter attack squadron currently operating at full capacity." He let his gaze wander to the view of the hanger through her window and saw the reduced number of pilot's and ground crews working. He turned his eyes back to Marisa. "Word came down that Triumphant was in need of replacement pilots after your last mission."

Marisa had to stifle a chuckle. Instead her curious smile turned into a wide grin. "There were any number of ways you could have answered that question," she said, raising a pensive finger to her lips "and you, knowingly or unknowingly, picked to rub salt in an open wound. You're lucky I've got a perverse sense of humor." She sighed slightly "No, I meant more generally. Why any carrier group over some other posting. Are you career driven or is it wanderlust? Or maybe something else?"

Logan kept his face carefully neutral, betraying just a hint of sympathy perhaps. He had not been in the know there had been casualties, just that replacement pilots were needed following Triumphant's return to Space Dock. "Best way to answer a question is with a straight forward one. However, it was not my intention to incite painful memories. I was simply told you needed replacement pilots, not the reason for why those replacements were necessary."

Marisa raised her hand dismissively "We fared better than most departments. A few others had their Period of Service end and didn't renew. Don't burden yourself with it." She pulled her hand back in and folded her arms "I'd much prefer it if you answered my question though. I need to know what kind of person I'm going to be flying with."

Logan pondered her question for a moment. His official record listed not only academic achievements, but also his extra curricular pursuits in fencing, soccer, gymnastics and theater. Though it did list his home town, it was perhaps not descriptive of his actual home. "Well sir. I grew up on a farm in Iowa. So, hard work is not unknown to me. I joined Starfleet as an enlisted man because...I wanted to get into space as soon as possible...I guess...part of me was trying to leave something in my past."

"You know, there is this theory that I like about Dragons." Marisa said closing her eyes with a sage smile. "The longer you leave the dragon in his cave, the bigger he gets, the harder he is to kill. But the horde of gold he has gets larger." She opened her eye and moved her hands as she talked "It's not a real dragon, obviously. Anyway" she held her hand up "I won't push you on that." She said before raising a pensive finger to her lips "Let's try something else. You've got a Romulan Scorpion at 170 mark 15 in a pursuit vector. Weapons free. What do you do?"

Logan spoke right up as if he was going on instinct. "TSO lays down a withering barrage from the aft phaser emitter. I pull a hard to starboard turn for three seconds, reverse direction for one and then an Immelmann. Should put me on a head on with the Scorpion. I snap shot two missiles then go to phasers."

"Alright, not bad." Marisa said nodding a few times, her lip sticking out thoughtfully. "The scorpion over shoots you, passing you on starboard. While you don't get guns on target you've evaded his pursuit. However, in the process of doing this you've wandered right into the sights of his cloaked wing man." Marisa points her finger like a pistol and drops her thumb like a hammer "Bang, torpedo up your thruster. Your dead."

Logan nodded thoughtfully. His eyes narrowing intently at the CAG. "OK...then what would you have done?"

"Well, first question you should ask is 'where's my wingman, where's my flight?'." Marisa replied with a slight shrug. "Unless it's a stealth recon op you should always know where your flight is is, furballs not withstanding. Second question you should ask is 'if our roles were reversed what would I want my wingman to do'." She stretched her fingers on right hand and placed it over her chest. "I'd go evasive but not enough to lose him. Keep him between 1 and 3 kilometers between my 4 and 8, probably a rolling scissor with alternating lateral thrust, nothing fancy. Either his wing man wises up and it devolves into a 1 on 1 fight or you give your buddy an easy kill."

Logan only gave a single nod this time. "I'll remember that sir. Mind if I ask when I will get a Valkyrie assignment and TSO?"

"The crew's got leave for a few weeks and I've got a few ships that are due an overhaul at Utopia Planitia. There will be a ship for you when we reboard, but I can't assign you what I don't have right now." Marisa said, somewhat apologetically. "But if you're aching to get behind a flight stick I might be able get you a loaner on Blue Team for a few Red Flag sorties."

Logan blinked in surprise. "Red Flag?" He of course knew of the week long advanced combat exercise. It's where the best of the best in Starfleet's Starfighter Corps competed every year. "You can get me a slot in the Red Flag competition?"

"Not the full competition." Marisa clarified with a sweep of her hand "But there have been a few dropouts and I know the base commander, so he's asked me if I and a few others wanted to stand in for a few sorties. Even so, for a newly minted pilot that's pretty huge."

Logan couldn't believe it. Even to have the chance to fly one sortie with, and up against, the best aviators in the Starfighter Corps was beyond any dream he could imagine. "If I were an orphan...I'd ask you to adopt me."

Marisa laughed. "You don't want my family issues..." She caught her self short for a moment "Do you have a call sign Ensign? Or are we just going to go with Nugget until something comes to mind?"

Logan nodded, a smile forming as he remembered how his call sign came about. His flight instructor was by far a better flyer than Logan, but when it came to their other shared passion, the blade, Logan was the undisputed champion fencer. "Zorro, my flight instructor bestowed it on me when he found out I also fenced...and I beat him six consecutive times in competition."

"Alice. There were a few literary fanatics at the academy." Marisa said with a slight nod "Anyway, mission briefing is at 0730 in hangar 2. Come dressed in a EVA flight suit. Any questions?"

"No sir!" Logan couldn't help the beaming smile on his face or the excitement he felt at being allowed to participate in THE EVENT or the year in the Starfighter Corps. "0730 in hanger 2!"

"Alright." Marisa said with the same smile she wore when she gave her sisters kids candy right be fore bed. "Don't party too hard. Dismissed."