Jeepers Creepers 2: Creepers In Flight
Location: Small Craft Docking Bay
Stood at ease at immediately inside the door to the small craft docking bay, Ithahr watched as the Starfleet shuttle entered the bay, piloted with apparent ease by its sole occupant.
Holding his PADD in his folded hands, the Andorian waited with interest to meet their latest arrival. With the strategic situation what it was in the are, it made sense that Starfleet had finally assigned a Strategic Operations Officer to the theater. For his own part, Ithahr was eager to meet someone from Quebec, as he'd never had the pleasure.
Emmanuelle had finished ensuring her personal effects were in good hands and en route to her quarters (wherever they may be) when she noticed the tall Andorian by the main entrance to the landing bay. She had not met him before, but she recognized him from the file photo. Lieutenant Commander Ithahr th’Shrannok, the station’s First Officer. That saves me a trip, she thought wryly. She quickly pulled her blue hair into a ponytail with an elastic and set off to meet him.
She walked confidently and boldly up to the XO and, while it did not slow her down, she did notice as she approached that he was well over 30 centimetres taller than she was. She stopped a well practised distance away; close enough to be clearly engaging with him but far enough away that she was not craning her neck to meet his eye.
She stood to attention. “Lieutenant Emmanuelle Larose, reporting for duty, sir.” Her accent remained thick despite her many years away from Québec.
Ithahr nodded at the proper mode of introduction, then smiled, "at ease Lieutenant, you look like you'll strain a muscle." The Andorian extended a hand, "Commander Ithahr th'Shrannok, Executive Officer. Pleased to make your acquaintance."
The smaller officer relaxed her shoulders, smiled, and took the Ithahr’s offered hand. “Thank you, sir. Pleased to meet you as well.” She released his hand and held her arms behind her back, in a pose that had become muscle memory after her years in security. “I was on my way to see you. Thank you for intercepting me.”
"It's my pleasure, Lieutenant," replied Ithahr as he looked at the shorter human. "I try to make sure I greet at least the seniormost arrivals to the station. Consider it a professional courtesy." Indicating the door, he ushered the Lieutenant through, "A station of this size is ... daunting, even after the time I've spent here. For a new arrival, it must be overwhelming at points."
“You’re not wrong,” she said as she followed her superior officer through the corridors. Already she could tell this station was a labyrinth. “My last assignment was an Odyssey-class. Not this big, of course, but still larger than most ships out there. Still, I’ll never forget getting lost as a cadet during a class up on Earth Spacedock.”
"An Oddyssey-class vessel, that is impressive," Ithahr said, "I can't say that I've had the pleasure of serving aboard that class. My last assignment was aboard a Sovereign class. Did you enjoy your last assignment?"
“Very much so,” Emmanuelle answered. “My immediate superior was one of the best, and taught me everything he knew.” She stopped in the corridor and looked up at Ithahr. “I’m hoping I might learn from you as well, sir. I see myself one day in a Captain’s chair, and to get there, I need to see up close how commanders command.”
"How refreshingly frank," chuckled Ithahr as he wended his way to the turbolifts. As he hit the button to call a lift, he considered her statement. "I imagine that as the Chief Strategic Operations Officer we will be working closely together. I'm sure you'll have all the time in the world to study how best to organise a briefing. Or signing requisitions for new ODN relays," he grinned, "it depends where you see yourself going in the future, to be honest, it's different aboard a Starbase than it is aboard a ship. I'll make sure you can observe the Pathfinder's command rotation when they head out as well if you'd like."
“I would, merci beaucoup,” the strategist answered. “Maybe down the line taking some bridge watches over there, or some Ops watches here. Once you think I’m ready, bien sur.”
"I'm sure as one of the senior officers that time will come sooner than you expect," replied Ithar evenly as they stepped in to the turbolift. "Particularly given your skills. I have to say I haven't worked with many Strategic Officers in my time at Starfleet. Not been much call on my deployments," he said warmly, not wanting to give the wrong impression. "Would you care to run down your previous duties?"
“Largely advisory,” she answered as she took position beside him. “We follow military deployments, changes in the political landscape, incidents of note, that sort of thing. We consider the implications of these things and advise the Captain and First Officer. Strategic Operations also usually works closely with Intelligence and Diplomatic departments.” She smiled warmly. “After meeting the Captain and finding my quarters and office I’ll make arrangements to meet with Lieutenants Sakaan and Chase.”
"I'm sure you'll find them both to your liking. Sakaan has mostly kept herself to herself recently, I imagine assisting in setting up an effective local intelligence gathering apparatus has taken up a lot of her time," he said quietly, even though they were the only ones in the area. "I expect you'll work closely with her, so let me know if there are any, ah, issues."
"Lieutenant Chase seems to be more readily available, and quite a chatterer. I'm sure you'll get along ... swimmingly, I think the expression goes?"
“That sounds right,” Emmanuelle said, nodding. “Truthfully, Federation Standard is not my first language. My parents insisted I speak French first. Something about cultural preservation. But I think I’ve heard that expression before.”
"French? A regional Earth language?" asked Ithahr politely, "I'm afraid I'm not certain I've come across anyone who has ever spoken that language before. But it makes sense that there is more than one language spoken there, there's no such thing as a whole of planetary culture really, is there?"
“Indeed not,” Emmanuelle agreed. “In my culture’s case, efforts were once made to deprive them of their language and heritage. Many families still feel the need to preserve that which makes them unique. An understandable sentiment, I should think.”
"True enough," responded Ithahr easily. "I suppose that why the Aenar continue to live apart from Andorians for the most part. Their culture could be easily swallowed by ours. And we would be a poorer galaxy for it."
He gestured for Larose to proceed him out of the turboloft as the doors opened once more, depositing them on one of the many nondescript crew quarter levels. "Your quarters should be down the corridor. Hopefully they should prove to be a little more comfortable than the ones aboard ship."
“I’ve looked at some pictures,” she said. “I look forward to making it my home. Thank you for the escort, Commander. I think I can find my way from here. I’ll finish checking in and see you tomorrow in Ops?”
"Bright and early, Lieutenant. Morning briefing will be at oh-eight-hundred-hours sharp," Ithahr smiled kindly, "make sure you bring your strongest caffeinated beverage of choice. I understand humans struggle to function without it."
“Merci, Commander,” she answered. “Good evening.” With that, she turned away from her superior officer, had the computer direct her to her own room, and set off to begin her life as Chief of Strategic Operations aboard DS3.
Ithahr smiled to himself as the doors to the turbolift swished shut once more, "Operations," he intoned as he was whisked away to attend yet more bureaucratic matters.
Lieutenant Commander Ithah th'Shrannok
Deep Space Three
Lieutenant Emmanuelle Larose
Chief Strategic Operations Officer
Deep Space Three