The Science of an Art

Posted on Mon May 28th, 2018 @ 9:44pm by Captain Charybdis MacGregor

0 words; about a 1 minute read

Mission: Operation: Risa!
Location: USS Bone Chance, Deck 7, Main Transporter Room
Timeline: 2265

Amongst the many skills with which she was quite proficient, whether from the Academy or those she had acquired upon joining the crew of the Bonaventure, transporter operation was not particularly amongst those possessed by one Commander Charybdis. Sure, she could explain the principles, troubleshoot them, repair them, build one with reasonable components, possibly even improve upon one... well, if she applied herself to it at the exclusion of all else.

However, locking onto a signal and beaming it was still not a task with which she felt entirely comfortable. Operation of the transporter was part science, part skill and a little bit of an artform, like dance or playing a musical instrument. And since Charybdis was a science officer, and to all outward appearances a Vulcan, that meant that she would be expected to be proficient in... well, every aspect of the operation of a Constitution class vessel. At any given moment she might be called upon to perform any number of tasks- the least of which might be operating the transporter.

"You're sure about this, Lieutenant?" Chief Fingerman asked as she worked to get a lock on her destination.

"Actually it is Commander now, Chief," she replied as she watched the readings and tuned them in. "And yes, I'm sure. I need to master the transporter- it is important. And what better way to practice than on my own luggage?"

"We actually keep basic cargo containers for this, Lieu- uh, Commander," the transporter chief corrected himself with only the slightest hint of sarcasm. He was a career military man and could easily recognize the rank that she wore on her sleeve- he was just needling her about it.

She'd been getting some form of such treatment from crewmen, from the lowliest shipman to the officers in the mess for the past few days all over the ship- her meteoric rise in rank had most definitely been noticed, and it had also come with a healthy dose of resentment from the crew, who apparently viewed it as favoritism at work. Perhaps nepotism... she was not positive if it applied in this case, since she and Patrick were unrelated. The perception was most certainly that of advancement through sexual favor.

While she would prefer it otherwise, she found herself unwilling to care about the opinions of those willing to draw such conclusions. Scuttlebutt would have its way on vessels, and if she were not sleeping with the Captain than that would certainly be the rumor by this point, given her rapid rank advancements. Those who wanted the truth would seek it, and those who looked for pettiness would find it. As sensitive as she could be at times, the negative opinions of others tended to have limited effect on her when there was nothing she could do to change them.

Which brought her back to the current moment, and the matter at hand.

"Watch your buffer, ma'am... you're going to lose it midstream like that. See the wavelength widening?" He may not have felt that she deserved promotion, but the transporter chief was still a professional who had trained dozens of crewmen in his career in the art to which he had devoted his life. He wasn't about to sit by and watch her turn her luggage inside out just out of petty spite.

Boosting the gain, Charybdis closed the wavelengths back to 20 milihertz once more, considered safe parameters for beaming, even as she eased the energy to matter conversion back a bit more slowly, giving it time to rematerialize gradually. The transporter chief looked over her handiwork, then inspected the scanners devoted to the transporters.

"Good news and bad news, ma'am. The good news is that your suitcase has arrived."

Suspecting the truth, she asked anyway. "The bad news?"

"You missed the landing platform by about a meter low. More good news, it isn't solid- I think you beamed it into the room below the one you were aiming at, but you were close." He fixed her with rather a resentful glare. "If it had been a crewman you would have lost them."

Sighing heavily she nodded. "I will try more simulations and work with empty cargo containers, Chief. I have no gift nor skill for this art of yours it seems, but I must improve, so I will work harder. Thank you for today's lesson... I will report back within the week for another testing when you are willing and we shall see if I can become less deadly with the transporter."

The older human smiled and patted her shoulder- he had seen plenty who couldn't master the seemingly simple device with its uncomplicated panel, but at least she didn't blame the sliders, the machinery, her luggage or anything else. He gave her a small measure of respect for freely admitting that the fault was hers, and for volunteering to study and come back to try it his way. "You'll get it yet, Commander," he offered encouragingly.

"I'll still feel much more comfortable with you at the controls, Chief. One to beam down, please?" she asked, stepping onto the platform.

"Same floor as your luggage or the one you were aiming for?" he asked innocently, and she grinned at him.

"Floor below- I need to pick up that mess I just made!" she said, laughing as her outline became sparkling golden energy and vanished.

 

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