When Reality Hits

Posted on Mon Jun 19th, 2023 @ 6:47pm by Lieutenant Commander Ferrand Beaulieu

1,028 words; about a 5 minute read

Mission: Ethics, Morals & The Prime Directive.
Location: Fighter Bay 1.
Timeline: En Route to Mission Area

Ferrand was pacing the large floor of the hanger looking at the rows of pristine-looking craft, tech crews, deck officers, pilots and munitions masters all going about their duties to prepare the fighters for use in the mission ahead. He came to a stop as he looked upon his own fighter and for all its technological glory and glamour, any pilot often wanted things of the past. His previous fighter may have been old, seen thousands of flight hours both in space and atmospheric, but he knew it.

This one....nothing.

It was new, the only flight hours it had on it were initial flight certification and transit from where it was tested to the Dreadnought. Totaling 7. Any pilot was always wary of something new because to them it had yet been 'broken in' as some put it, or flown enough to wear away that fresh coat of paint sheen it held. As much as Ferrand wanted to get some hours in he knew that was impossible now since they were on assignment and also at warp.

"CAG, Sir."

Ferrand turned and saw a young-looking tech walk to him. "Yes?"

"You are needed in the briefing room. 2 rooks and a PCP."

Rooks was the general term for rookie pilots, fresh from graduation or recently got their wings without any mission experience. PCP stood for proven combat pilot, these deserved respect. PCP's had flown in combat situations and many of them, not just the odd 1 or 2, but a string of them and were among the fortunate and lucky to come back.

"Merci." Ferrand spoke knowing full well the UT would translate it to English for the young man but sometimes when frustration rose, the no-fuss Frenchman aired on his native tongue.

Walking past the younger man Ferrand made his way to the briefing room where he saw others gathered outside the held open doors. "If people have nothing more important to do, I believe the simulators are currently vacant."

When people saw who it was that spoke most were quick to disperse, others followed when they stopped feeling the shifting and shoving of bodies around them. The doors remained open as Ferrand stood in the doorway looking upon the trio that was in a heated argument, the two younger looking pilots at least. It all simmered down when they saw the CAG. "Gentlemen, is there a problem here?" The UT unable to hide fully the French accent. "You."

"Sir. Lieutenant Matthew O'Donna, 3rd flight." The first of the two younger pilots spoke. Ferrand had noticed the total and utter composure of the more experienced pilot, clearly, this was not a first for him in this situation.

"And what seems to be the problem O'Donna?" Ferrand asked.

O'Donna went on to explain that yesterday his collegue and himself were on the promenade, they were sitting at one of the many reseraunts that could be found there and started talking to a group of ladies. Tell them of experiences, and how they graduated top of his class and stories when the PCP came along and embarrassed them.

"You." Ferrand spoke, looking at the PCP.

"Lieutenant Terri Li, 1st Flight" The man spoke. "For the most part, the Lieutenant's version is true though missing select details. Yes he was regaling the ladies present with stories of exploits, his finishing position in class but he was also embellishing his exploits with participation and feats of expertise that are and remain, false."

Li explained that one such story of expertise that was told was how O'Donna had squared off against the top flight instructor at the Flight Academy. A feat he knew to be false because the CFI was one of the few pilots to survive the battle to retake Deep Space 9, an exceptional pilot, the pinnacle of the excellence a pilot could achieve, and the disfigurement that tells its own story from the battle.

"So, if I'm understanding this situation correctly, you spoke, he corrected, you felt embarrassed and so instead of taking this up alone and professionally, you corner Li in the flight room with your own wingman in tow?" Ferrand spoke. "Is Li correct in what he just said?"

"Sir, yes sir." O'Donna answered realizing that his embarrassment from the night before had bitten him in the rear. "But Sir, we're supposed to be a team, back each other up. There was zero respect."

"Not tell lies to make yourself look good to the unknowing or unsuspecting," Li interjected. "You claim to have been top of your class, you were 4th."

"The level of unprofessionalism here is mind-blowing gentlemen," Ferrand uttered. "Yes we are a team, we have each other's back in and out of the cockpit but we do so honorably, with decency, respect and courtesy. If you embellish, you run the risk of getting caught out and that brings us all down. Your misfortune O'Donna was you were in the presence of someone knew more accurately so to get him back you bring a wingman to make a point."

"Well I'll make my own point. Until 3 days ago I was a Flight Instructor at the Academy and I've seen all kinds of pilots and a wide range skills. I didn't finish first in my class yet here I am. I'm CAG to the largest vessel in Starfleet. Where you finish doesn't define you, what you do does, and what you have done here today......is disappointing. So let me teach you about respect." Ferrand continued. "You Lieutenant O'Donna use your rank to require it of others and at best, get compliance and the bare minimum at that. Then Lieutenant Li, through proven competence, dedication and their willingness to share both hardship and danger commands respect." Ferrand paused.

"Now the former you have to listen to because rank requires it, the latter, you could take that rank away and is still followed because their actions required it of others." Ferrand paused for a moment letting the lesson on respect sink in. "Now, unless you two want to take this into the simulators, we have more important things to do and prepare for, so lets back to it shall we gentlemen?"

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