Star Trek: Theurgy

Tactical CONN Training Center Omega: The thin line between genius and madness

May 06, 2021, 07:08:37 PM

Lt JG Sorek Morgan | Shuttle Bay | USS Thunderchild ] Attn: @P.C. Haring @Eden  @SaraKnight

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Surrounded by busy engineers and pilots, Lieutenant Junior Grade Morgan was waiting for the turbolift doors to slide open. He was feeling slightly uncomfortable since he was the only one with luggage inside the cabin and he plus his belongings did occupy the majority of the space.

He had packed everything that was mentioned on the list provided by the training facility he was about to join for the coming months. Tactical CONN Training Center Omega. What a name that was. This almost brand-new installation had already started gaining quite the reputation. Every pilot in the Tactical CONN community has heard about it and most of them wanted to go there and refine their skills. For Sorek, it was the perfect timing. Assigned as an Element Leader to the USS Thunderchild, he was quickly made aware that in order to become one of the best, he would need guidance. It was not hard to become a fighter pilot, not if one really wanted it. But to be really good at it, to get the necessary muscle memory needed to be more than just a pilot with guns, one had to dive deeper into what being a member of Tactical CONN really means. Reflexes, perception, tactical oversight, endurance and a brain that craved to solve critical situations with creativity and cunning. The latter could not be trained, but structured and perfected in ways Sorek would not know how to achieve without further training.

And then there was Ensign Nakarra, who already waited for him when the turbolift doors finally slid open. The green skinned Officer from Orion was one of Sorek's subordinates, and an intense one at that. Just as she had done when they first met, she now again smirked upon his arrival, nodded silently and turned on her heels, stressing the fact that standard issued Starfleet uniforms could very well be quite tight-fitting.

"Running late, boss?" She asked teasingly, glancing towards him over her shoulder. "You certainly don't want to be late for this, do you?" She seemed to chuckle as she progressed towards a Type-9 shuttlecraft, her hips swaying elegantly.

"Of course not, Ensign. But I will only be gone for a few months. No need for a big farewell ceremony." Sorek felt uncomfortable in her presence all the time. She was beautiful, smart and her skills in the cockpit were promising. But all of this made it all the more difficult for him to deal with her. She never hid her affection for him, at least not when they were alone. And Sorek - lacking the motivation and the opportunity - had never learned how to interact with women outside of his job.

"This is not a farewell ceremony, Lieutenant." She cooed and stopped next to the shuttle door, turning her gaze to his face with an ominous smile. "I am your pilot, Sir. Welcome aboard!" Her left hand gestured him inside and as he passed her with a feeling of helplessness, he was sure that he heard her giggle ever so quietly. Oh my... oh my...

Re: Tactical CONN Training Center Omega: The thin line between genius and madness

Reply #1 – July 04, 2021, 04:43:44 AM

Lt. JG Callax Valin | Deck 7 | Iota Eridani Starfleet Aerospace Command Facility ] Attn: @P.C. Haring @Lathaniel @SaraKnight
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Callax stepped down the ramp and into the shuttlebay of the Iota Eridani Starfleet Aerospace Command facility with a confident swagger. What few belongings he had were packed neatly in a rucksack draped over one shoulder. Despite the literal weight on his shoulders he walked as if on clouds. After all, he had been handpicked for this assignment. 'Advanced fighter training,' his commanding officer had called it as if knowing exactly how to stoke the young officer's interest. The chance to learn how to fly an advanced fighter craft was not an opportunity he would easily pass up.

The shuttlebay was a rush of activity as other shuttles landed and disembarked their passengers. Other training candidates, Callax thought as he pressed onwards towards what appeared to be the gathering space. A Benzite sporting lieutenant commander pips seemed to be organizing the new arrivals, positioning them into orderly rows as NCOs began checking in each of the trainees with PADDs in hand. Piercing blue eyes began to size up his classmates--his competition--as they began to join the mustering formation. Some looked excited. A Renao looked somewhat uncomfortable. Others just seemed to stare blankly ahead, dispositions unreadable. Eventually, a high pitched voice returned his attention forward as an Andorian looked up at him and began tapping on his PADD.

"Identification."

"Callax Valin. Serial number XV-014-106. USS Jadestone," he replied with an even tone. He did not quite stand at attention but he did straighten his posture as the Andorian tapped quickly on their PADD. "Identity confirmed. You will be quartered on Deck 7, Cabin 5. Please proceed to your quarters. Mandatory assembly will be at 0930 on Deck 2."

And with that the Andorian moved on to the next in line. Checking the time it was clear he had arrived early and would be in no rush to make it to the assembly. Stepping forward he adjusted the rucksack on his shoulder and made for the turbolift.

When the door to the turbolift opened on Deck 7, the corridor looked like a scene from his first day at the Academy. Trainees with luggage of various sizes were milling about. Most seemed to set about searching for their room assignments while others engaged in small talk. After a bend in the corridor and many nodded heads in greeting he found his room and entered. Inside was a standard two-bunk configuration likely familiar to any junior officer whose quarters likely looked the same on their starships. There was no window so Callax simply took the bunk on the right. For whatever reason he always preferred the right and his bunkmate had not yet arrived to claim their own.

Dropping his back onto the bed, he began to unpack his belongings which consisted of just clothes and the bare essentials necessary for what was not expected to be a long assignment. Checking the time again he set an alarm and laid back on his bunk, arms raised behind his head. Best enjoy what rest he could get now because the storm was surely coming.

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OOC: If folks are still interested in writing in this, feel free to claim the other bunk for some character development. Can do a timeskip to the events of that lead to the demise of the facility in parallel.

Re: Tactical CONN Training Center Omega: The thin line between genius and madness

Reply #2 – August 16, 2021, 04:24:32 AM

Lt. Regiene “Reggie” Suder | Deck 4 | Iota Eridani Starfleet Aerospace Command Facility ] Attn: @Eden   @Lathaniel   @Hope   @SaraKnight 

Reggie Suder leaned forward in her desk chair, eying the cadet on the other side of her desk.  He offered no tell as to what was on his mind and if she hadn’t known better she would have pegged his expression as almost almost Brikar or even Vulcan in just how flat it was.  The Betazoid resisted the urge to try to read him telepathically.  She didn’t know much about the Renao as a species but what research she had done indicated their emotions ran deep and intense.  However instead of suppressing their emotions as the Vulcans did, the Reano harnessed that into a drive to perform, a drive for dominance.  She did not fully understand it but she didn’t have to.  Reggie only needed to remember the admonishment she had received from the records on the Reano that a telepath could easily lose oneself in the mind of a Reano which would not be good for said telepath.

She set the PADD flat on her desk, the incident report still scrolling across the screen.

“What do you have to say for yourself, Cadet?”

“My rank is Ensign,” he said in a low bass monotone.

She glared at him.  “Mr, al Tabar, you are a student in the Tactical CONN flight training school.  You could be a god damned Admiral within the fleet but once you began your training here, you became a Cadet.  Do not make me ask my question again.”

To his credit, the cadet made a show of considering the question.

“I won.”

Had she been drinking anything in that moment, Reggie Suder would have spat it out all over her desk.  Instead she picked the PADD back up and scrolled to the applicable section of the incident report.

“Two broken arms, one dislocated shoulder, a skull fracture.  Four cadets, one instructor and three station support staff in the infirmary, and all you can say is that you won?”

She omitted the fact that the one flight instructor was her RIO and was the one in with the skull fracture.

“It is the truth, Ma’am.”

Reggie bit back her initial response, instead opting for the more appropriate answer.

“You have exactly one minute to explain yourself.  I don’t give a damn about who won, I want to know why you felt it prudent to strike your fellow cadets.”

“I was challenged, Ma’am.  The other cadets questioned my competence and my willpower.  That challenge could not go unanswered.  It was my right to respond.  It was my…responsibility to respond.”

Reggie had, of course, read the reports and even seen the sensor logs and security recordings of the incident.  The so-called challenge was little more than trash talking between the cadets.  It had gotten heated, but no more heated than any competitive class, and certainly not enough rising to the occasion of a fight.  At least not by her standards. 

Reggie had very little experience with Reano, but her reading had indicated that the drive to prove one’s worth ran strong in the species and she suspected they were the type of people who could score a 92 on an assessment, carry the highest score in the class and still consider it a failure since they didn’t achieve a perfect score.  To an extent she understood it.  Her own flight school had been hellish and she took a bit more hazing than others in her class.  Whether it was because she was a woman, an experienced officer, or one with a disability she had taken a hell of a hazing during flight school, a hazing that had only motivated her to work harder.

“I empathize, Cadet.  I truly do.  But if and when you find it necessary to respond to those challenges, you do so with your aptitude tests and your flight training.  If you need to blow off some steam with or against the other cadets, you take it down to gymnasium and you do so safely while under instructor supervision  You *do not*, I repeat *do not* start a brawl in the fucking mess hall.  Do I make myself clear, Cadet?”

“Yes, Ma’am.”  He paused.  “I accept responsibility and apologize.”

“So noted, Cadet.”

“Am I to be further punished for my actions?”

“Cadet,” she sighed.  “Your actions are enough to expel you from the program and send you back to the fleet with a more than a formal reprimand in your file.”

She didn’t have to be a telepath to sense the increased anxiety.

“That said.  There is your first offense, no one was seriously hurt so we are willing to settle for a reduced punishment.  You will immediately report to Lieutenent Richards down in station engineering.  You injured one of his men in your fight, and he’s been relieved of duty for the next two days.  So you’ll be filling in his night shift tonight.  I’m told the station’s EPS conduits are due for a thorough cleaning.”

“I accept my punishment, but I respectfully request that it be re-scheduled.  I have drills at 0600 tomorrow morning.”

“I know,” Reggie responded.  “And you should have thought of that before you acted.  Your request is denied.  Report immediately for scrubber duty.  Dismissed.”

“Yes, Ma’am,” he barked as he rose to attention, saluted and exited.

Reggie let out a breath she hadn’t known she’d been holding.  Cadet Jenok al Talbar was a damn good pilot, possibly the best she’d ever seen.  But the pressure he put on himself was far more intense than anyone around him imposed, his instructors included.   

If he could ease up on himself, he could prove to be one of the best pilots TacConn had ever seen. 

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OOC - For those of you interested in the voice of the Cadet, I’m thinking Christopher Judge’s performance as “Teal’c” in Stargate SG-1

Re: Tactical CONN Training Center Omega: The thin line between genius and madness

Reply #3 – August 26, 2021, 08:33:42 AM

LtJG. Amissa, “Emerald” | Sapphire Wolf 5 on approach | Iota Eridani Starfleet Aerospace Command Facility ] Attn:  @Eden @Lathaniel @P.C. Haring
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“Omega Control, this is Sapphire Wolf Five requesting landing pattern.”

[Negative, Sapphire Wolf Five. The pattern is full. Execute holding pattern Two-One Bravo until further instructions.]

“Acknowledged, Omega Control. Executing holding pattern Two-One Bravo.”

From the backseat, she heard Diamond’s laugh. “Alright, Emerald. Who did you piss off? All the others are safely docked. Even the cargo carrier is hooked up.”

Amissa just chuckled and shook her head. “I doubt anyone here has cause to hold a grudge against me, Diamond. I mean, it’s been what? Over a year? I doubt anyone would remember me.”

“You don’t give yourself enough credit, Em. You’re kind of hard to forget, bright green skin aside.”

It was a good thing she was sitting in the front of the Valkyrie Mk II fighter and wearing her flight helmet. Otherwise, her blush would have betrayed her. There had only been the one incident. On the other hand, she had slept with several the pilot trainees in her class and sparked more than one jealous grudge match. But they had to understand that she was Orion and had needs.

Surely no one would be holding a grudge after this long. Would they?

They ended up making three full circuits of the training base before finally being granted docking clearance.

[Omega Control to Sapphire Wolf Five, you are cleared to dock in Bay six. Come to course three-one-one mark one-oh-two. Approach to within five kilometers and cut your thrusters and engines. The tractor will pull you in the rest of the way.]

“Sapphire Wolf Five, acknowledged.” She hit a button to end the transmission then muttered to herself. “Prick. You would think from the way he was talking that I had never done this before. I’m perfectly capable of landing this thing myself.”

Once more, Diamond let out a loud laugh, filling the speakers in her helmet. When he finished his guffaw, he addressed her. “Uh, Em, you might want to cut the transmit signal next time you insult a station control.”

What?!

“That was live?! Shit!”

“Still live, Em.” She heard a click in her speakers indicating that he had closed the channel.

“Sonuvabitch! Garnet is going to have my hide when she hears about that.” As she was commiserating, she guided the fighter around to the designated coordinates and cut her thrusters and engines allowing the promised tractor beam to lock on and begin to pull them in.

“You should be worried about the Black Knight. He’s going to tear your head off once we land. You know how he is about protocol.”

And boy did she. Call Sign “Black Knight”, Lieutenant Commander Edward Roberts was as tough as nails when it came to protocol and procedures. He was an excellent Squadron Commander, but she could honestly say there was nothing gentle about him, except maybe how he handled his fighter. It was almost like an extension of him, as if he was doing a dance in space and the craft was along for the waltz. Amissa hoped she would get that good some day.

As they exited their fighter, Diamond made for the locker rooms while Amissa headed for the burly black man in the flight suit who stood nearby quite visibly fuming, his glare boring holes into her.

“You had better hope and pray I don’t bust you back down to Cadet, Emerald. That was totally unacceptable protocol. I don’t care how you feel about your instructions, when a control center is giving flight instructions, you follow them to the letter. WITHOUT THE LIP! Do I make myself clear, Lieutenant Junior Grade Amissa?”

She felt like she was a first day cadet again. His deep voice had grown in intensity steadily during his tirade and by the end, he was in full shout mode. She had been around long enough to know not to speak until spoken to in times like this. But he had asked her a question, and it was time for an answer. All around her, she could sense the eyes of the other people in the vicinity all trained on her.

“Sir! Yes, sir! It won’t happen again, Commander.”

“It had better not. Now, gather your gear and report to the quartermaster for housing assignment. We will be here for several days while the cargo ship refuels and takes on the supplies for the station.”

“Aye, sir. And what will be our duties in the interim?”

“I’m tempted to ground you after that stunt, but you have free time during your stay. Make good use of it.”

“Aye, sir.”

“You’re dismissed.”

Amissa nodded and turned for the exit, hurrying to try and catch up to Diamond, whom she knew would be walking slowly to give her that exact opportunity.

Not the greatest way to make an impression on the trainees, Amissa.

Re: Tactical CONN Training Center Omega: The thin line between genius and madness

Reply #4 – September 21, 2021, 03:03:59 PM

Lt JG Sorek Morgan | Shuttle Bay | Iota Eridani Starfleet Aerospace Command Facility ] Attn: @P.C. Haring @Eden  @SaraKnight

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Ensign Nakarra had insisted on performing the landing procedure herself, which made sense. She would have enough time to clean herself up and make herself presentable. Sorek on the other hand, who had been utterly surprised by her sudden advance, once they had left the Thunderchild, had to leave the shuttle and report for duty once the struds touched the landing pad.

Sorek looked down at himself in the mirror. He was unsure what to think of what happened. He felt as if he should be happy but on the other hand, he was confused. Did they really do what he thought they did? His glance wandered to his discarded uniform, which lay next to the disheveled bunk bed, slowly shaking his head. Seems as if it was no dream... He thought to himself, when the warm and flirty voice of Nakarra sounded through the shuttle.

[Mr. Lieutenant, Sir? We have arrived at Iota Eridani Starfleet Aerospace Command Facility. I hope you'll have a nice stay and remember all the good things about the Thunderchild and me. Would be a shame if you never came back.]

Sorek blushed instantly. It was as if he could hear her cheeky grin. He quickly shouldered his duffle bag and headed for the exit. Forcing himself not to look back in order to try and get another glimpse of his subordinate, he made walked out of the shuttle and swiftly made his way to the tall, handsome NCO who was already waving in his direction. The piercing blue eyes of the Petty Officer sent a chill along Sorek's spine. Did he notice something? Went through his head as he held out his pad to provide the transfer details.

"Lieutenant Junior Grade Sorek Morgan. I'm here for the Advanced Tactical CONN Training." He stated matter of factly, realizing right after the words left his mouth, that this was well known to the NCO. But the young man, whose dominant chin and tall, fit body made him an impressive figure, merely smiled down at Sorek and nodded.

"Thank you, Sir. We've been awaiting your arrival. You are to report to your flight instructor first. Afterwards I will show you around and provide you with your schedule. Please follow me!" The Petty Officer replied and with another downwards glance at Sorek, turned on his heel and marched into the direction of the next corridor. Sorek, with a feeling of double humiliation, followed his guide into the depth of the Training Center.