Seeing the Boss

Posted on Thu 3rd Nov, 2016 @ 1:27am by Lieutenant Colonel Brooklyn Wellington & Warrant Officer Moklor of the House Karn

1,000 words; about a 5 minute read

Mission: Cloak & Dagger
Location: Fighter Operations Office
Timeline: MD3 - 1600 Hours

Brooklyn sat behind her desk as she studied the service record of the Wing's newest member and squadron leader, Warrant Officer Moklor of the House Karn. She was glad to have a Klingon in her department as they were fierce fighters and from her experience, were often good pilots. She was now dressed in her flight uniform that bore some grease stains from helping the mechanics out in getting the fighters operational. Whoever had this station previously let the fighters deteriorate by not flying. The Razors, Broadswords, and the Valkyries were all made to fly, not sit around unused.

The doors to the Fighter Operations Office opened. In walked the tall Klingon, who Brooklyn had seen on her PADD screen only moments before. She had summoned him and he wasn't one to keep his commanding officer waiting long.

His expression looked almost solemn. He didn't look bored, tired or angry. He just looked very serious. This was an important moment for him, meeting the Detachment Leader.

He wore the standard duty uniform with a grey bar covering his shoulders and a marine green shirt underneath. His rank pip was proudly worn on his collar. The tall man walked up to the Marine Captain's desk.

The Klingon popped to attention and rendered a salute, holding it. "Warrant Officer Moklor, Son of Q'tar, of the House Karn, reporting for duty, ma'am."

Moklor was quite a sight. He looked to be quite grizzled for a 28 year old. The scar which ran across his left cheek gave character to his relatively youthful face. The hand which held the salute also had several visible scars. He looked pretty beat up for a pilot.

Now he stood tall. Some would think a Klingon would have trouble with a female commander. For Moklor, it was the opposite. He respected any woman that would put herself in harm's way. Besides, some of the best pilots he'd seen at the Academy were women.

Brooklyn looked up at the younger officer, taking in his scars--he was every bit as impressive as his bio had stated. She stood, returning the salute. "At ease, Mr. Moklor. It is good to have you aboard," she greeted, extending her hand out to his. "How was your trip?"

Moklor relaxed his shoulders and reached forward to shake the Captain's hand. His handshake was firm, but he was careful not to squeeze her hand.

"My trip was quite adequate." His expression could almost be described as warm as he reminisced about his parents' B'rel. But now was not the time for fuzzy memories.

"Tell me, Captain. How can I be of assistance?" Moklor already had his mind on the squadron. He wanted to meet his wingman. He wanted to meet his spacecraft.

She walked around the desk and motioned for him to follow. "Come with me, Mr. Moklor," she said as she exited the office and walked towards the fighter bay. "Currently, the squadrons are grounded due to neglect. We have the members of your squadron, the Black Knights, but the Razors are currently undergoing maintenance, repairs, and upgrades to get them serviceable again. The ground crews are working 16 hour shifts with eight hour rest on a rotating schedule until all craft are operational."

"Ah, I understand." The Klingon walked side by side with the Captain as they made their way to the fighter bay. News that the fighters were not up to par was surprising. It did explain why he wasn't put on a duty roster or wasn't flying a CAP right now.

"We will make sure the ground crew's work pays off." He paused, "I am anxious to fly. This base is.... Comfortable." Moklor always looked at his most uncomfortable whenever he used that word.

Brooklyn looked up at Moklor and smiled. "Well, this base is your home for the time being, and home is what you make it. We just about got two Razors ready to go. They're currently undergoing systems maintenance and testing. Once that's done, they'll be ready to fly within four hours. One of those fighters will be yours and you will then be able to take it out for a patrol."

"I have love in my heart, for the Razor. She is an older design. Some fleets phased her out years ago. But in the Razor, everything comes down to pilot skill. I will prepare for my first Vanguard CAP."

Now the Klingon grinned, with eyes looking almost devious and pointed teeth bare for all to see. He could literally almost taste his excitement.

"I flew the Razor during the Dominion War," Brooklyn recalled as they stepped into the bustling fighter bay. "It's proven it's worth time and again. I will leave you to get to know your squadron. You're on duty in four hours, Mr. Moklor. Don't be late," she smiled.

Moklor nodded and took a step forward deeper into the bay. He took in the sights and sounds. He could see all sorts of fighters, each one surrounded by crew members. Some of the fighters were opened, with panels removed and wires exposed.

"I will be here. I'd like to get my hands on some of these fighters." He knew a little about maintenance from the Academy, his time as a pilot and even more so from growing up on a Klingon ship.

Moklor's reply impressed Brooklyn as she knew some pilots who thought themselves above getting dirty with the mechanics and flight engineers in working on fighters. "That's good to hear. If you need anything, I'll be working on some fighters as well."

"It was nice meeting you, Captain."

The Klingon offered one more salute, which was returned. It was the end of his report to duty. He could see two of the Razors being worked on. Among the mechanics was a Bolian woman who appeared to be supervising. She didn't look like a mechanic. Maybe she was another pilot.

Moklor bowed his head to the Marine Captain and went off to the fighters to investigate.

 

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