= RP: 44th Fleet Shipyards =

“Captain’s Log, Stardate 95398.47”

Captain Daniel Barr was watching the dim glimmer of Starbase 39-Sierra fade into the distance as he began his last log to be filed as Captain of the U.S.S. Rising.  Over the past four years he had managed to maintain a grand impression of admiration for her, a facade that the crew had seemed to accept.  Four years in deep space is a long time to be away from ones family, so it was imperative for Captain Barr to ensure the crew saw their ship as home to maintain morale.  He would never tell a soul, but truth-be-told he hated that ship.

Maintenance issues that appeared at random on an almost daily basis.  The need to realign warp coils and intermix levels every 71 hours was an annoying but necessary evil after an encounter with a patch of subspace micro-anomaly’s during their surveillance of the Hobus system 2 months ago.  Not to mention the inability of the replicator to produce anything that came even remotely close to his mother’s famous Hot Dog Casserole.

It took 2 months of restless days and headache filled nights due to a limited ability to enter warp for extended periods, but they had finally arrived at 39-Sierra.  After filing his report of the micro-anomaly incident and the seemingly irreparable damage they had cause to the warp coils, he was not saddened when he received the order to have the Rising towed to Earth Spacedock for decommissioning.

“Good riddance” he thought as he began his final log.

“After four years of deep space exploration aboard the Rising, it seems strange to be on a starship and not sitting in the center chair.”

Captain Barr slowly turned his head to the large floor to ceiling window to his left, and took a long look at the ship being towed outside as the distant stars stretched across his field of view in all directions.  She was bruised, he could see the marks of a long journey on her hull.  Discolorations from where the many gases and phenomena of the past few years had worn, eaten, and weakened the hull plating.  Scorch marks from a few small altercations.  He caught a glimpse of the warp nacelles pulse, quickly losing their ever-present glow and regaining it again almost instantly.  “71 more hours until I’ll see that again,” he thought to himself before realizing that in reality he would most likely never see it.  They would be back at home, Earth, long before then.

“Looking at her from the outside, I can see the marks of age.  4 generations of captains have been in command of her, and she has plenty to show for it.  She might not be the newest ship in the fleet, but she did get us out of, and into, some pretty hairy situations.  For all her quirks, she was a decent ship…but maybe 70 years of space travel was enough for her.”

“I do hope that I get something a bit newer, with maybe a few more weapons on her the next time around.  Four years of deep space study and being on the sidelines while I read the news of the many enemies the Federation is facing has me hoping for something more…interactive.”

>>> Incoming subspace transmission, Priority 1. <<<

“Computer, play audible transmission.”

There was a slight pause as the computer began to read the contents of the message.

“To all my fellow Captains and Commanders pending promotion in the fleet, for those not aware there has been several new ships assigned to the 44th that are currently stationed at starbase Eden pending assignments…”

“Perfect timing!” he proclaimed with a newfound excitement in his voice.

“Computer, delete last line.”

“This is the final Captains log of the U.S.S. Rising, NCC-2392.”

He took one small breath and another quick look out the window before walking towards the door.  It was just about time to head to dinner.  The chef on board this warp tug was surprisingly talented; he didn’t want to miss it while it was hot.

“Computer, end log.  Search for all departures from Earth Spacedock to Starbase Eden departing within the next 48 hours and display on my PADD.”

He exited the room and turned left into the corridor, not looking back a second time at the familiar sound of the door sliding shut behind him…signaling what was hopefully the end of long, boring missions; and the beginning of a new adventure.

“48 hours should give me just enough time for a quick visit home for some of mom’s delicious Casserole.”  He smirked at the thought as he headed towards the Mess Hall.

———-

[[OOC: I don’t have any extra to spend on Zen ships at the moment…but as soon as I’m admitted into the main fleet (3 more days!) I’d like to grab the Fleet Tactical Escort Retrofit…so if that counts as a Defiant Class…or if you want to add the Valiant Class to the list…that would be awesome.

Barring that, I do have the Long Range Science Vessel Retrofit available for use as the Intrepid class…but I’d rather have a T6 Escort if possible.

Thanks for the fun!]]

• This reply was modified 6 years, 6 months ago by Cyberin. Reason: extra "

Jerin Idaris was in his room looking at the half-empty glass of whiskey. It was from the bottle he kept for the day when they add another pip on his uniform. He overheard a conversation between Captain and second in command about crew rotation scheduled for the next flight timetable. First officer would get his own ship, and it was clear who gets the no.1 tag.

That day never came since the federation forces were decimated during the Herald invasion on the Sol system. Jerin emptied the glass at one gulp with sour expression on his face: “For friends we lost.” – and started to remember the most memorable moments with his former Captain and crew.

Sudden *beep* interrupted his flow of thoughts, and broke him free from the state of mind he was so heavily absorbed into. While still sitting in his chair, screen was the only light source in the room.

“Computer, read the message.”
.
.
Heart was pumping so fast and he couldn’t believe his ears.

“Computer, copy my service records to the reply.”

* 2394. – 2398. – Shal Tul laboratory science research group
* 2398. – 2402. – Starfleet academy
* 2402. – 2409. – U.S.S. Cedrus
— 2402. promoted to Ensign, stationed at the sickbay under dr. Derek Owensby
— 2405. promoted to Lieutenant
— 2408. promoted to Lieutenant Commander, Chief Medical officer
* 2409. – 2410. – U.S.S. Quamaar
— Chief Medical officer, Commander rank
— vessel was heavily damaged during the 2410 battle at the Sol system.
* 2410. – present – Unknown
[end of message]

“Computer, delete the last line, this is a message an Admiral will be reading!”
Computer: “Cannot comply, service record incomplete.”
“Fine, disregard the last request…useless”
– He got up from his chair to grab the PADD, but head pain forced him to stop for a moment before completing the message manually.
“Ugh.. chief medical ASS, I need to get myself in shape. Need to determine my goals again and continue the path I envisioned the first time I enlisted for ship duty.”

Surge of adrenaline was high as he imagined himself on board of U.S.S. Melbourne, the Sutherland-class vessel. He could continue his scientific researches while doing his best to support the fleet and its assignments.

[message sent]

“Computer, send a training plan to my PADD, based on my current… psycho-physical condition. And also, send me available information on Captain Huckabee and 44th Fleet.”

Computer: “Requested date sent.”

Jerin grabbed his rumpled uniform still laying on the floor and rushed into the unknown direction.

Part 1

“All stop”.

The eyes of the bridge turned to Captain Lukon. Normally this would make him nervous, but his years of experience with this crew, combined with his Betazoid senses, told him he was in friendly territory. They long since grew to accept him, despite his…peculiarities.

“All stop sir” First Officer Chamberland replied. The ship shuddered slightly. “We are docked. Powering down”.

“Very good” Captain Lukon replied. “Computer, record the USS Midway has safely arrived at Earth Spacedock after successful field tests”. He paused for a moment. This was always awkward, what to say next…he was a scientist first, Starfleet captain second. So many Starfleet officers were better at this than him. What profound thing could he say to wrap up six months of field testing the Midway? What a strange name for a ship – Midway. The literal Betazoid translation meant something else, but he learned on Earth it was a tiny island in the middle of the planet’s largest ocean. The humans fought a battle in that area during one of their wars amongst themselves, about 400 years ago. Several of Earth’s ships have been named after it since, including an ocean-going vessel that was propelled by fossil-fuels and carried atmospheric craft into combat. How did the humans come up with such a bizarre concept?

First Officer Chamberland interrupted his thoughts “Sir, Admiral Quinn is requesting you at Starfleet Operations”. It was amazing how the human woman could sense when his mind was wandering, even if she was not a Betazoid. Not the Lukon was particularly adept at sensing emotions. His abilities in that regard were below that of an average Betazoid…

“Sir?” Chamberland repeated again, once again returning Lukon to reality.

“Yes, of course. Computer end recording”. Putting his hands behind his back and laughing softly, nervously (one of his many odd habits), he added “I guess it’s time to see where we’re heading next”.

“Most of us have already packed” Chamberland replied kindly.

“Well then. Alright, I guess I’m off to see the Admiral then”.

Part 3 of 3

The human runabout pilot told Lukon they’d be at Eden “before you know it”. He wasn’t kidding. Apparently there was a transwarp corridor between the Sol System and Starbase 817. Who knew? Apparently it was on a need to know basis.

“And we’re here. Welcome to Eden sir”. The pilot saluted. Lukon saluted back, noting the “44” patch on his shoulder. He then looked out the window at his new posting. The starbase was impressive. It certainly wasn’t as big as Earth Spacedock. But his trained eyes told him Eden definitely was a fully developed and operational base.

Beaming into the transporter room, then walking across the adjacent spacious promenade, Lukon found himself waiting next to a row of pictures depicting ships named Enterprise. He put his hands behind his back and did his soft, nervous laugh as he looked at the Earth 1961 version, which appeared to be a human ocean going, atmospheric craft carrying warship, much like the Midway’s earlier namesake.

Which was why he barely noticed the voice behind him, “Admiral?” A few seconds later it registered that he was being addressed by his new rank. Spinning around, Lukon noticed the human looking at him quixotically.

Quickly regaining his composure, Lukon replied “Captain Huckabee?”

After exchanging pleasantries, the two ascended a nearby ramp to a cafeteria with wide windows looking out into space. “Your crew has already begun transferring to your new ship, sir”, Captain Huckabee said matter-of-factly.

Wait a minute, a ship? Admiral Quinn never said anything about a ship. Lukon figured he’d be assigned as Starbase staff, or maybe lead a science station on Dranuur colony.

Captain Huckabee gave him a bemused look. “Admiral Quinn left that part out?” He gave a knowing chuckle. “Well, there it is” he said, gesturing out the window.

There was only one ship in that area. Lukon’s eyes went wide as he beheld the huge, unmistakable profile of a Jupiter class carrier. Shuttles, presumably carrying his crew and their effects, flew into the cavernous hanger deck. The front of the saucer section, forward of the “44” painted on its side, read USS Kitty Hawk; NCC-49056. “That…” he stammered “…that will do very nicely”.

OOC: I bought the Jupiter during the last flash sale, and assigned it to an alt character who just made Level 50 (despite the fact I’ve had him for years). Since I haven’t done much with him, I decided to give him a quirky, somewhat insecure and introverted personality and make him a background character just now coming into the forefront and joining the 44th (even though he’s been in the Delta fleet for awhile now).

😉

• This reply was modified 6 years, 6 months ago by Connfire.
• This reply was modified 6 years, 6 months ago by Connfire.

“Admiral on deck !”

There was a time when everyone in the room would snap to attention when a flag officer would enter, a strange human custom that had carried over into Starfleet, and something she had changed immediately after being elevated to flag rank herself.
No Andorian would stop working just to acknowledge a superior – in fact it would be considered insulting. Ice requires constant care and vigilance was a saying on old Andoria, as when left unattended the very ice families walked on or lived under could break and shatter with dramatic consequences. In Andorian culture all hands in the clan were needed if all were to live, and prosper.
So nobody stood when the tall Andorian strode into the elevated glass enclosure that acted as Starbase 817’s main briefing room, but heads turned and nods were exchanged acknowledging the Commander-in-Chief of the 44th Fleet.

“As you were, please be seated”.
She didn’t sat down, instead walked around to the head of the long table, stood there, and looked around. A good crowd, she had many capable hands at her disposal. Some belonging to veteran captains, some from lieutenants that only recently joined the Mighty 44th. Some were actually sitting here under the glass dome of the starbase, a few were present via a flickering hologram transmission.

“Thank you all for attending, and responding to captain Huckabee’s message. I know each of you already have other missions to attend to, so I will keep this brief.”
“Our fleet is in constant flux due to continued high demand of ships and capable crews to defend our Federation and uphold its mandate all over the galaxy. That struggle is seemingly never ending, with new challenges and enemies around every corner. The Borg, the Breen, the Iconians, and now the Tzenkethi.” She put a PADD on the table, gestured at it.

“Some of you reported an interesting development during a recent encounter on Dranuur colony however, which may have far reaching consequences.”
Looks and nods were exchanged around the table, and some holographic projections seemed to flicker in light of recent events.

“Needless to say the 44th will be at the front of whatever decision the Federation council will make regarding this, and that means our fleet has to step up its efforts to both field an effective defense and simultaneously continue our diplomatic and exploration missions elsewhere. That means we will shake up our current ship assignments.”
Some uneasy shuffling around the table. Every starship captain worked hard to create an effective bridge and engineering crew and abhorred seeing those teams seemingly blindly pulled apart from someone from the upper echelons. She knew that feeling all too well.

“I know this reassignment may not be popular, but we are stretched thin. We have ships, just not enough capable captains and crews to man them.”
“I have instructed captain Huckabee to oversee the re-allocation of available ships in the fleet to suite the needs of the Federation. Some of you will keep your current command, some of you will be assigned new ships. However, you will be allowed to select your own bridge officers and crew as you see fit.”
She tugged her uniform jacket, straightened. Better to keep this short for now, there were to be enough questions later.
“Captain Huckabee will have new mission assignments as well if needed so by the Federation. Good luck captains.”

And with that she strode out of the room.

[[ OOC: I’m only popping in now and then to bump this. Thanks all for participating. ]]