Taking Flight
Posted on Wednesday 8 February 2023 @ 14:24 by Lieutenant JG Wintrow Paragon
Mission:
Revelations
Location: Flight Deck - Deck 14
Timeline: MD 1 0800
1892 words - 3.8 OF Standard Post Measure
Maverick had returned from his jaunt with Marjani the night before and he was exhausted. Of course as he made his way to the Flight Deck for what would be his first full day on duty, he told his old friend Goose all about it. "Goose I am telling you she had everything, looks, personality, and she could even fly." He smiled as he stepped off the Turbolift and headed down the corridor at a brisk pace.
Goose managed to stay in pace with Maverick and laughed boisterously. "You know if I did not know any better I would think that the great lothario Maverick was in love. Is that even possible? Do you love anything save for yourself?"
Pete gave his friend a rather nonplussed look as they entered the Flight Deck. No sooner did his foot step onto the deck did he hear Chief Santos. Well he thought it was Chief Santos call "CAG on deck!" Immediately everyone came to attention and dropped what they were doing to look at Pete. Goose leaned in and whispered, "Look at them so young and full of piss and vinegar. But their adoration is like wind on a flame." He spoke her of Maverick's ego and how this would feed it.
Wintrow peered out of his craft, unable to get to attention as he was running diagnostics on the fighter's systems. Seeing the new department head, he jumped out and lithely landed on his feet before straightening. He suppressed a smile as he tugged down his tunic and tried to rub an errant smudge from his face.
Pete looked about the room at the pilots. Some of which he flew with a few weeks hence. He saw the newly made fighter with the words Captain Melody "Mama Bear" Jones and he smiled. "Morning everyone... At ease please!" He paused as he regarded the group. "For those of you who have not met me as of yet I am Lieutenant Mitchell. But you all can call me CAG or Maverick. I don't plan on running too tight of ship down here. If you keep the fighters clean and ready for use then I will be happy. It seems that I will be serving as the ship's CONN Officer as well. So, I may not be around here as much as I like. If I am not here please see the man to my left should you need help. You can call him Mother Goose or just Goose. I like to call him hen because he is always henpecking." Pete laughed at his joke and Goose gave him a stern look. "Now if I may have any of you been to Top Gun school?"
Wintrow shook his head slowly. "Learned to fly both on ship and got qualifications at the academy sir," he answered, somewhat proudly, "I've been flying since I was seventeen, and I too occasionally man the conn. I have been doing both since I was transferred here and would like some more hours logged at the conn if I may sir. My main experience is fighters, as well as their maintenance." He chuckled. "I was named Farseer by the pilots on my prior assignment, when I just learned to fly."
Pete smirked he remembered his younger days. Remembered when he was eager to serve and whatnot. He opened his mouth to speak and Goose could sense that something that shouldn't was about to come out. "Don't..." Goose interrupted. Maverick turned to his oldest of friends and feigned indignance. When he turned back to Wintrow, he eyed the young man. "Now every pilot can tell me when and where they were when they were given their handles. I was in Top Gun as was Goose. If you want to know how those names came to be you would have to earn it. Now, Farseer is it? How did that come to be?"
"Why do we need to earn knowing how it happened," Wintrow questioned, seeing and sensing something he couldn't quite place. "Should that not work both ways then? I know when and why, and I earned it."
Pete wondered how long Wintrow had been around pilots, and he assumed long enough to be a good one, but not long enough to learn the traditions. "It is tradition that the CAG bestows and upholds handles. Now, you say that your previous outfit gave you the handle Farseer. So tell me what you did to earn that. For the most part we pilots are an elite bunch and close knit group. However, I am sure you already know that." Pete's voice took on a teaching kind of tone as he spoke.
"I sensed danger before it actually hit us," Wintrow answered, "and it saved our lives. I'm half Betazoid..." He wasn't sure how elite was meant here but if it meant specialist he would have to agree. Being a fighter pilot was quite a specialty, however if it meant being more than the next person.... That's not how he felt nor did he ever get that vibe on his prior assignment. Yet, somehow he felt that this was exactly what was meant here.
"Well then Farseer it is. Chief Peyton please see that the Lieutenant's fighter is upgraded with his handle." Pete thought for a moment and regarded the young man in front of him. "How are your instincts? Your guts? The situation where you used your Betazoid talents. Do you believe you could have had the same outcome without being a Betazoid?" Pete more than most understood the use of anything to get a edge while out there in black. However, he had to make sure that the pilots under his command could fly with minimal tools as well.
The young pilot smiled at the acknowledgement of his call sign. "There's nothing wrong with my instincts sir," he explained confidently, "I don't know if the outcome would've been the same, probably not because my senses are what they are due to the way I was raised sir. Had my youth been different, I'm not sure I'd have this danger sense either." It was the honest answer. "I'm not a telepath sir, merely an empath. I can sense feelings, not thoughts. At least, not of non-Betazoids or other non-telepathic races. I have been able to get fleeting thoughts of someone who was very close to me, but it took effort."
Pete nodded and smiled. "I see..." Then he turned to Goose. "Goose schedule time for everyone in the simulator. I would like to see exactly how everyone's instincts are. Chief Peyton how is your deck crew adjusting" So far so good thought Pete. Everything seemed to be in good shape.
"Just fine Lieutenant." Peyton answered. "We had a couple of issues with the Quartermaster not giving us what we need for repairs... but I can be pretty persuasive when it comes to getting us what we need." she nodded to a recently delivered batch of repair gear. "The newbies are settling in and are doing well, some fresh faces but we are looking after them and making sure they know how to repair our girls without the use of power if need be." Peyton knew all too well that having power, the ability to use tech was a luxury and being trained in how to fix machines started from the ground up.
"So Farseer what's your pleasure for shifts? I like to try to assign people based upon the work schedule they would prefer. Are you a morning person or a night owl? I will be on Alpha shift on the Bridge, but I would like to put you on Ready One for the fighter rotations." Pete realized that he may be getting ahead of himself and that he should let the young man speak. So he looked at Wintrow and took the measure of the man.
Wintrow nodded carefully. "I can take whatever shift requires people sir, I'm as much a night owl as a morning person so I don't mind either." He smiled brightly. "As long as I get to fly sir," he added, his love and passion for his job visible in his very being, "and I prefer to maintain my craft too sir. I don't mind getting dirty on the job." Proven the smudges on his face and hands.
"Right then... You're on Ready One. And shall we say Delta Shift on the CONN?" Pete smiled as he was happy with the other man's love of his work and knew that he would appreciate a chance to work on the bridge. "Of course this is all pending the Captain's approval but I do not believe that she will object. Chief you heard Farseer. Take his fighter off the repair schedule he wants the work he has it."
"Yes sir," the young pilot answered smartly, then arched a single eyebrow as dark eyes settled on Maverick. "Though it would help if I knew what Ready One was sir?"
Pete often forgot that some people did not understand the lingo, however, he thought that another fighter pilot would know. He decided to make this a teaching moment. "There has to be a flight of fighters ready to launch at a moments notice. So, all of the fighters here are broken up into Ready 1, 2, 3, and 4 respectively. It just means that should something happen and fighters are needed the flight that is Ready status is the first ones out. Ready One would be the equivalent of alpha shift. You do not have to be here however, you have to make sure that your fighter is ready to launch and should the call come out you are here on the double."
"I can promise you that all fighters will be ready. Ready 1, 2, 3 and 4. We are already painting routes on the deck so that pilots don't get lost in the heat of the moment looking for their fighter." Peyton looked at Wintrow and then the other pilots. "They are precious little creatures when they get all flustered and bright colours on the floor helps them."
Pete laughed at the joke. "Thanks Chief we do appreciate the guidance.." He was going to continue when Goose interrupted him. "Uhh Mav you have exactly five minutes to get up to the Bridge for your first shift." "Frak! you're right Goose and thanks for the heads up." Pete jogged from the flight deck, he really did not want to be late for his first Bridge shift. But, this was something that he never had to do before.
"Well, Lieutenant..." Peyton looked at Wintrow. "I'm going to get my hands back inside on of these babies. If you need anything whilst you are down here just ask. My staff and I are happy to help." she smiled and then turned to head back to one of the fighters in need of repair.
>>>** Senior Chief Petty Officer Peyton Santos
Deck Chief
USS Merlin
●● Lieutenant Pete "Maverick" Mitchell
Chief Flight Control Officer
Commander Air Group
USS Merlin
○● Lieutenant Junior Grade Nick "Goose" Bradshaw
Tactical Systems Operator
USS Merlin
Lieutenant j.g. Wintrow Paragon
(fighter) pilot
pnpc Seklar
