"You wanted to see me, Cross?"
"I think you mean Captain Cross, Commander Carter," replied the lean man sitting behind the desk.
"Ha!" barked Lee Carter jovially. "You wish, Lieutenant. And I suppose your little sidekick Dex is an Admi--" but the glint of four shiny golden pips on Matthew Cross' collar caught her eye and she choked on her words.
Cross was clearly enjoying seeing her try to puzzle out this new mystery, but it didn't take Carter long to come to the only logical conclusion. "Impersonating a captain is a court-martial offense, Cross," she said with a wry smirk curling the left corner of her lips. She seated herself at the desk across from the impersonator. "Wanna let me in on the joke here?" Cross' firm gaze never wavered though, his eyes never lost contact with Carter's, nor did even the slightest hint of a smile betray his true thoughts. Carter began to worry just a little.
"I'm afraid it's no joke, Commander," he finally replied with so much gravity that Carter actually believed him. To stave off the inevitable deluge of indignant questions and accusations, he hastened to explain. "I've been undercover, so to speak. Certain persons at Starfleet HQ have been keeping admiring eyes on you and your Banshee Squadron in the official reports."
"I didn't realize Starfleet reports had centerfolds these days," commented Carter.
Cross continued, pretending he hadn't heard. "Now that the Second Mulluran War is over and Francona's evil regime dissolved, things in the Briar Patch sector will undoubtedly settle down and become almost peaceful, at least in the short term. Starfleet feels it's time the Banshees were given a different..." Cross searched for the right word. "...focus... from a purely military one."
"Meaning?" asked Carter with a measure of trepidation. She was having sudden flashbacks to the last time her squad was 'refocused' after the Dominion War. Less than a year later, they were disbanded completely and thrown to the winds. It was only through the intervention of Admiral Jeffrey Pike at HQ that the Banshees were eventually reunited and sent back into action. She wondered idly if Pike was one of the unnamed 'persons' at HQ who was admiring the Banshee Squadron centerfolds... er... reports.
"Meaning," replied Cross, disrupting Carter's errant thoughts, "your equipment is being upgraded -- you're getting new starfighters, among other things -- and your missions will have a decidedly more exploratory and scientific emphasis. Most of the surrounding systems are still largely unexplored and probably dangerous, so an armed scouting force is the natural solution.
"Second of all, the entire squad is being relocated down to the surface of Serenity. This time next week, we'll all be basking in the luxury of our brand new suites adjoining the Starfleet spaceport in Serenity City."
"And?" prodded Carter, knowing there was more. There was always more.
"And..." began Cross, clearly relishing the moment, "you have a new boss."
"You," stated Carter, not relishing the prospect. "No," she declared, shaking her head. "Unacceptable. The Banshees have always flown under my leadership. Well, at least since we lost Jazz. Uh... the first time, I mean." She realized she was in danger of coming unglued -- this unexpected development had her powers of reasoning in a knot.
"Relax, Commander," said Cross, not unsympathetically. "Your wing will continue to function as it has been, with you as Wing Commander. But your mission orders will come from me from now on.
With that pronouncement, Carter's indignation at being superceded cooled somewhat. "Well... I suppose I can live with that," she ventured.
"Good. Now, I suggest you collect your posse and head down to the Banshee hangar level. There's a few presents waiting for you."
At that, Carter smiled. She turned and left, leaving Cross sitting behind his desk wishing that Starfleet reports did have centerfolds.
Five women stood in a line; three of them nearly bursting with eager anticipation, one unable to decide between eager anticipation and dread, and the last standing slightly apart harboring dark brooding thoughts. Around them, technicians scurried back and forth like worker ants in a colony, making sure everything in the Banshee Hangar Bay was in readiness.
The hangar bay's big space doors were currently open; the only thing standing in the way of the women and techs being suffocated to death by the hard vacuum of space was the atmospheric shield spanning the door, which allowed ships to enter and exit while keeping in the air.
Outside, almost lost from view against the hypnotic swirls of the Briar Patch Nebula was the starship Sutherland, but it was neither the awesome natural beauty of the nebula nor the impressive lines of the Nebula class starship that had everyone's attention. No, they were here to see the five small objects that were even now gliding across the wide gulf between the Sutherland's hangar bay and their own. When finally they were close enough to be glimpsed by the naked eye, Commander Lee Carter whistled appreciatively.
"Ain't they a thing of beauty? Our new A-R-F-1 Scorpion class starfighters!"
"A-R-F? That spells arf!!" exclaimed a dismayed Alex, momentarily forgetting her dread at having to learn these new crafts' mechanical systems. "Should we take that personally?"
Carter, Jo and Sam chuckled. Only Max remained unmoved, still brooding over the death of Jazz Phoenix, the black storm cloud hovering above her head refusing to lift for even an occasion like this.
"They don't look like our old Banshees," commented Sam Beckett, clearly a little disappointed. The stubby Scorpions with their over-sized warp nacelles and back-mounted expansion pod were nothing like their old sleek Banshees.
"These haven't been crashed a million times or been blown up yet!" explained Jo cheerily.
"Actually," interjected Carter, "the new Scorpions have a lot of differences. They don't have quantum cannons--"
"That's bad," commented Jo.
"--But they have four computer-targeted phaser turrets and four quantum missile tubes," finished Carter.
"That's good!" said Jo.
"They go slower at impulse--"
"That's bad."
"--but faster and much farther at warp."
"That's good."
"They've got hi-res sensors, automodulating, refractive shields, ablative armor generators and whatever else the eggheads at R&D can come up with."
"Best of all though," said Jo, "our new uniforms aren't made out of that itchy quantum programmable material anymore; just plain ordinary uniforms like everyone else, and plain old life support belts for when we have to go EVA."
The gleaming new Scorpion fighters were slipping through the atmospheric shield by now, one by one entering their new home, perfectly-tuned engines humming with the promise of limitless power as the transfer pilots carefully guided the shiny vehicles to smooth touchdowns on their landing pads. Carter ceased her dissertation and joined the others in just watching.
When the last Banshee had settled to the deck plates and the techs began scrambling over it attaching hoses and cables, Jo asked the question that was burning on everyone's minds. "So... When can we take them out for a spin?"
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