Driving School

Posted on Tue Apr 19th, 2011 @ 11:21pm by Lieutenant Cedric Shepherd

1,540 words; about a 8 minute read

Mission: Shoreleave
Location: USS Ranger, Outer Hull
Timeline: Start of Shoreleave

ON:

"It's always breathtaking," declared Cedric Shepherd, leading the column aft across the hull. The warp nacelles beyond glowed vividly, their light failing to dim the brilliance of the surrounding stars, the festive constellation of lights on the starbase, or the luminescence of the planet.

"I don't think I'll ever get used to this," LaFontaine drawled over the com-channel. He was behind Shepherd in line, followed by a half-dozen officers in EV suits. Their magnetic boots clanked arrhythmically against the hull as they hiked forward along the spine of the ship, toward the saucer.

"What's bothering you, LaFontaine?" Shepherd asked.

"The angle, sir," was the reply, LaFontaine's native Louisiana turning the rank into "suh".

"What about it?" Shepherd stopped walking, and looked out at the stars.

"I feel like I want to fall, but up. Or off, or something."

"It's all in your head." Adalyn Mailloux responded from behind them, in the back of the group. Her words were a little on the harsh side, but her tone was not. "Nothing's up or down, so there is really nowhere to fall." She'd been doing these types of walks for so long that she no longer remembered what it was like to not be comfortable doing it. And had to remind herself to be patient with others. "Keep your eyes on the hull for a bit, it will help your brain orientate and then it wont be protesting as much." She shrugged slightly within her suit. "After that it's almost like you're just looking up into the night sky from any old planet. Almost."

Shepherd chuckled, a rumble in the assembled group's helmet-coms. He waved forward to the single suit standing at the flat section of hull behind the bridge. "Chief? Ready?"

"Yes, sir," S'teis replied placidly, inspecting the elongated head of a thin rod he was holding. He was already standing near the edge of the saucer, a rack of rods and several smaller containers nearby. He struck an odd figure, standing alone against the backdrop of the warp
nacelles and space, his Caitian digitigrade legs making his EV suit appear oddly bent.

"Alright, then," said Shepherd. "Gentlemen, in a line athwart here, please. And tether up."

"Yikes," muttered Acklin, once he had established his position at the end of the half-dozen men, lined up and looking aft. He extended a
slender line on the end of a magnetic grapple and felt rather than heard it clack against the hull, tethering him properly.

Chief S'teis moved down the line, handing each man a small mag-patch on which was mounted a small shallow v-shaped extension.

"You are holding the zero-gravity equivalent of a golf tee," Shepherd stated. "Everyone familiar with the basics of a golf swing?" At the general murmurs of assent, Shepherd continued. "Chief S'teis here has several buckets of balls he'll be distributing, and there are drivers for each
of you."

S'teis walked the line again, clanking covered buckets onto the deck intermittently between the men, as Shepherd moved to the cylindrical rack and collected an armful of clubs with short lariats hanging from the top. He continued speaking as he followed S'teis down the line, handing each man a driver and watching while they looped the lariats around their hands.

"Once you're equipped, fire at will. You'll note, however," he amended, as Ensign Sternbach gruntingly attempted a swing that turned awkward and stunted, failing to connect with the ball, "that with your magboots at full strength you can't twist properly. This is the point of today's exercise. You'll need to dial your boots to find the balance that's right for you, keeping you on the deck when you need to be, but still allowing you to pivot through the swing."

"It's harder than it looks," Fletcher murmured, almost grudgingly, after a missed swing of his own.

"I'm glad I could think of something properly challenging, mister Fletcher," Shepherd replied dryly.

Adalyn was tagging along to help out, so she stood watching the officers attempt the exercise. Wanting to ensure that she didn't get in the way of any of their swings, she stayed a little back from them. Most seemed too nervous to decrease the magnetic strength enough to swing properly, but they were slowly getting better.

She saw what was going to happen before it did. The ease with which Sternbach twisted his back leg told her that he had decreased the strength too much. Knowing that he was tethered off, she wasn't concerned that he would be hurt, so she just let it happen. He pulled his club back and the swing looked good until it came to the follow through. The momentum sent the ensign spinning off the deck with a little yelp.

Adalyn took the couple steps to his tether and pulled him back to the deck. "You're ok, ensign," she said. "That was quite the swing. Just increase the magnetic strength on your boots just a bit, a notch or two, and I think you'll be fine."

"Uh, thank you... sir," murmured Sternbach, a little embarrassed.

"It feels like I've got bowling balls on my feet," said Acklin, to no one in particular.

"That's a different exercise," Shepherd quipped, squaring for his shot. He wound into his swing, bringing the driver up smoothly, then
snapped into the downswing, hips and knees and feet shifting to match the curve of the follow-through. The assembled officers watched the
ball sail neatly in line with the hull and into the oblivion of space.

"Okay, it's possible," Acklin murmured, mostly to himself. "That means it's doable." He took another swing, his boots almost adjusted
properly. The ball shanked wildly, caroming off the top of the starboard nacelle and disappearing from view as it traveled toward
the starbase.

"Not bad," said Shepherd, the smile apparent in his voice. "Everyone carry on. Our principal goal here is each of you finding the right
adjustment for your boots. I'll drill you on proper driving technique when we're in an atmosphere."

"I have a question, sir," Abrahamsson stated flatly.

"Yes, mister Abrahamsson?"

"If Magboots are supposed to keep us on the hull, why would we purposefully lighten their setting?"

"Good question," replied Shepherd. "the short answer is that it's one thing to be able to move across a hull and do EV work. It's another
entirely to do it at speed, or amidst distraction. What happens if you come under fire while you're working out here?"

"I'd return fire," Abrahamsson responded. Several chuckles sounded through the com. Shepherd waited for silence before replying.

"I can appreciate the sentiment, mister Abrahamsson, especially since EV work for security would most likely involve escorting a damage
control party or a work crew. But if you're rooted to the spot because your boots are at full power, you're really just a target. If a
security situation comes up, you'd be a stationary firing port. Until you died."

"So Lieutenant Mailloux, sir, why are you out here if this is a security exercise?" Abrahamsson's voice was a bit puzzled.

Adalyn had been wondering how long it would be before this came up. She had to give them credit actually; she had half been expecting some of the security officers to scoff at her advice or help, not because she was a woman, but because of her small size people tended to think she was weak. Abrahamsson generally just sounded curious, to her ear.

"I grew up on a freighter, owned by my parents, and my dad had us out on the hull from about the age of 11 or 12. Lieutenant Shepherd found it in my file and thought I might be able to offer some advice." She shrugged. "And I jump at any opportunity to get out here."

"Lieutenant Mailloux happens to hold one of the top EV ratings on board," added Shepherd. "You'd do well to follow her lead out here."

"No homeworld?" LaFontaine was having trouble putting his next ball on the tee without losing his footing. His right boot kept sliding off the deck when he bent over. "I don't know what I'd do without a home to think about."

"Well..." Adalyn started. "I don't have a homeworld. But I definitely have a home."

She walked over to where LaFontaine was standing. "Try making it just a notch stronger." She pointed down at his boot before continuing. "The Voltaire is my home in every way that a planet-raised person could say that Earth, or Vulcan, or Mars, or whatever is their home."

"It seems awful small, that's all," remarked LaFontaine, as he dialed his boot in, shifting it experimentally on the deck.

"No yard," Acklin added. "I loved my yard growing up."

"I loved my yard too," Adalyn responded, indicating the sea of stars with a grand sweep of her arm. "It looked similar to this every day. Certainly a lot bigger than what yours was!"

The laugh ran up and down the line.

OFF

Lieutenant Cedric Shepherd
Chief Security Officer
USS Ranger

Lieutenant JG Adalyn Mailloux
Chief Diplomatic Officer
USS Ranger

Supporting Cast:

Lieutenant JG Edmond Fletcher, Security
Lieutenant JG Cupertino LaFontaine, Security
Ensign Ansel Abrahamsson, Security
Ensign Felix Acklin, Security
Ensign Grigori Sternbach, Security
Senior Chief Petty Officer S'teis, Security

 

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