The Girly Squeal

Posted on 11 Jan 2021 @ 12:33pm by Lieutenant JG Angelica Fairchild & Lieutenant Commander Camila Di Pasquale

1,607 words; about a 8 minute read

Mission: Ghosts
Location: Security Operations Room
Timeline: Md 1 || 0930 Hours

Camila was in her office going over PADDwork for the millionth time and looked at all the new names on the Security roster. So many had requested transfers during the repair of the Black Hawk-A and then there were the new ones that were replacing those...and the ones that had died in previous missions. There seemed to be more of the latter than the former and the thought made her sad.

The Security Chief got up and opened a cabinet on the other side of her office, then sighed; there was no booze in there as she had gotten rid of it after seeing Doctor Jennin. She could really use one about now, she reflected, but settled for a cup of steaming Raktajino from the replicator and a piece of gum she had discovered in the ships database. Chewing it occupied her, but it didn't really go well with Klingon coffee, but it was a placebo anyway.

The ombre haired woman sat back down at her desk and focused on the roster again when she noticed a new change. She had put in for a new full time Assistant Chief after going through several of them since Joey, and saw that Starfleet had finally granted her one in the form of one Angelica Fairchild. She sighed when she saw the woman had only served on one ship, but she had only served on Deep Space 11 prior to the Black Hawk and couldn't judge her.

There was the matter of her previous Captain and crew thinking she was too harsh, but Camila would sort that out for herself. She knew a thing or two about being harsh and having to be cold. She took a sip of her coffee, then tapped her combadge. "Di Pasquale to Fairchild. Report to Security."

"Yes, ma'am. I'm on my way." Though she'd previously been apprehensive about joining this crew, there was no trace of that now in Angel's voice. Despite memorizing much of the ship's layout, it took her a few minutes to locate a turbolift. Starfleet engineers didn't always label things well, and her memories of the Bachman were still fresh enough to get her lost in the Black Hawk's corridors occasionally.

Still, the trip back to Security only took a handful of minutes, and quickly she was outside Camila's office. She tapped the door chime as a courtesy - she'd been summoned there after all - and waited for Camila to welcome her.

The Andorian Yeoman at the front of the Security Complex frowned when the brown haired humanoid breezed past her desk and tapped her console to let her Chief know that yet another person decided to ignore the usual greet and wait. A moment later, the woman was forgotten and she turned back to her duties.

Camila looked up from signing off on another PADD and cleared her throat. "Come in," she called and released the door lock.

The door slid open, and Angel deftly stepped inside, just far enough for the door to again slide shut behind her. "Lieutenant Fairchild, ma'am. You requested me?"

"Yes, I did, Lieutenant," Camila said with a slight smile. "Would you care for a drink?" she asked and indicated one of the two chairs in front of her desk.

"Just water would be fine." Both chairs were identical, so Angel just picked one and sat down. It was a bit of an odd feeling, being in her department head's office and not immediately being yelled at, but she was starting to get used to people actually being nice to her.

The Security Chief replicated an ice cold water and handed her the glass. "Tell me a little about yourself," she said as she sat down behind her desk.

"I'm not sure there's much to tell, ma'am." Anything pertinent would have been in her dossier, not that Angel put much stock in what a dossier had to say about an officer. She knew hers had plenty of black marks in it from her time on the Bachman, despite how short a time it had been. "I'm not exactly the sort of officer Starfleet likes to admit having in their ranks. I mean, I do my job and I like to think I do it well, but I don't have what you'd call 'people skills'."

"What do you mean by not the sort of officer Starfleet likes to admit having in their ranks?" Camila asked, curious. She could have looked up every incident in the other woman's file, but she wanted to hear her side of things and how she handled it.

"Well." Though Angel knew that Camila could easily look up the entirety of her file, she was still a little hesitant. "I might have a small tendency to... act a bit harshly and not be very... diplomatic."

The Security Chief thought for a moment and then gave a sly smile. "How would you like to be my bad cop?" she asked.

"Be the bad cop? Are you serious?" A girly squeal escaped Angel's mouth before she could stop it, but she didn't care. "Really? You're... you're not screwing with me?"

"Not at all as long as we discuss tactics beforehand," Camila said. "I need someone with a little fire that isn't afraid of a little ire."

"Sounds like I'm your girl then." Fire and not afraid of ire. The description was so fitting that Angel had to smile at it.

"Computer, display all protocols labeled CDP One," the Chief said and a terminal lit up on the desk. It was nearly three pages long and she transferred it to a PADD and handed it to the other woman. "These are protocols that have came about out of necessity," she said. "I need you to learn them all and then come up with alternatives. We've had some interesting times on the ship."

"I have a feeling that's an understatement." Angel took the offered PADD, skimming over a few lines. It was immediately obvious that these protocols were unlike those aboard other starships, lending credence to Camila's comment about interesting times. "I'm always up for a bit of, uh, light reading. And creative solutions are fun sometimes."

"If you're wondering why most of the protocols are designed to beam people to the brig, you'll discover that this ship is a target out here and the less people free to roam the corridors means the less people die," Camila said very seriously.

"Makes sense to me. Then again, I almost got myself court martialed for doing that on the Bachman." Angel chuckled a little. As much as she'd hated that ship, that particular memory was a fond one. "Until I reminded the captain that I had, in fact, saved his miserable life."

"It took me a number of attempts doing that for the ship and crew before I was finally allowed to put in harder protocols," the ombre haired woman said. "And I've gone toe to toe with the Captain more than once. All it took was traitors, alien slugs and pirates infiltrating us repeatedly."

"Repeatedly?" Angel shook her head. Command officers were so stubborn, especially about safety. She never did understand that. "I'm not afraid of Geisler. I've dealt with far worse."

"It isn't a matter of being afraid of him," Camila said. "It was a matter of getting him to agree that I was right. I came aboard during the Consortium crisis and one of the first things I had to do was arrest the current Chief of Security for treason."

"Getting a command officer to agree with anything is a challenge. I think I can handle him though, if need be." And here Angel would have the support of her immediate superior, if such a thing ever occurred. It was definitely a welcome change.

The Security Chief made an entry into her console and looked up. "And you are now my official Assistant Chief of Security. You're first task is making sure that I'm on point and I want you to call me on it if you think I'm not. However, if you do, be prepared to explain how and why I'm not and what I should do."

"Yes, ma'am." She might not be a diplomatic person, but calling people out when they were off their game? Angel could do that.

"Any other questions about the drones, protocols, what to do if I'm possessed?"

"No, ma'am, but I know where to find you if that changes." Angel suspected that might change in the near-ish future, but she had a lot of reading to do before she'd have any questions.

"If you come to find me if I'm possessed," Camila said dryly. "You may not like the answers I have." She remembered shooting her own officers while the Dolmoqour had taken control of her and the horror still visited her in her dreams.

"If I come to find you and you're possessed, I'm going to shoot you and have you beamed to the brig." Though Angel smiled as she said it, her words were sincere and her tone as dry as Camila's. "If there's nothing else, ma'am, I'll leave you to your work. I know you must be a busy woman."

"Good answer," Camila said as she came to her feet. "Now get out there and show me what you can do. First drills are zero seven hundred hours."

"Yes, ma'am." With that as her cue to exit, Angel too got up from her chair. Flashing Camila a smile, she quickly retreated out the door.

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