Thank you, thank you!
Yeah...the way I discribed Slik's promotion DID make him seem like he wasn't up for the job. Wasn't how I intended it. Perhaps an edit or a later clarification of it.
And yes, the planetary designation was very Stargate-ish. With full intent. It is also an actual mathod of catologuing stars in real life observatories.
Jarn's DeathStar: Heh...truth be told, it wasn't as bad-ass as Jarn was bragging that it was. Could it have taken an Excelsior head on? Not likely. But it would have been hell on the main government's ships.
As to who killed it? You'll LOVE that answer...
CH. 2
Captain’s Log, Stardate 9714.6
Endeavour has entered the limits of System PL 1156B. This starsystem has already been mapped and generally catalogued by previous survey missions. One planet has been noted to bear humanoid life and I have decided to make for orbit there. We’ll undergo a general planetary survey while we’re here. I believe this will be a welcome change of pace for all hands. This crew has been through pitched battle, repeated patrols and the prolonged repair of this vessel. They need a break in the monotony, and aside from assigning them even more leave time than they’ve already used, I believe this the best release for them.
The ship is operating much as expected. We attained a speed of warp factor eight during our trip here and experienced nothing worse than a slight vibration on Deck Eight. Engineering is investigating the cause of this anomaly, but has yet to pin it down. It has caused no real problems. Beyond a few maladjusted systems we’ve noticed, this has thus far been our only glitch.
End of Log.
“Skipper, incoming personal message for you coming in on subspace frequency 713.6. Civilian band.” Lieutenant Noah Smith’s voice was saying over Ford’s desk mounted intercom. The commodore turned his leather chair around to face his desk. He’d been looking out the aft porthole, enjoying the starscape over the starboard nacelle and the sweep of the sloping saucer section. He tapped the waiting com controls, keying a response and triggering the rise of his communications viewer.
“Pipe it through, Lieutenant.”
Another bald shaven individual appeared on the CO’s monitor. The man bore mustache and goatee, both of them shot with grey. His hooded eyes bespoke of a lifetime of fighting and violence. He was a man who enjoyed both. Unlike Ford, he was allover covered in developed and toned muscle. He worked hard to maintain a fit physique. More than fit, he looked like a body builder. Her wore a light vest of energy ablative armor and armed individuals moved around in the background behind him. When he recognized Ford, the man inclined his head a bit.
“Package delivered, Commodore. The recipient was pleased with the item.” His gruff voice told Chevis. Ford began to smile.
“Did you observe the package being opened?”
“Yeah. The destined recipient wasn’t there for the actual opening of the package, but he got to watch it. It was a big hit.” The mercenary told him. Ford was quite satisfied.
“Too bad. I figure he would’a liked what I got him. Payment is in the usual account. There’s a bonus for quick delivery, Rex.”
Captain Rex Stevens rendered a reserved smile in return.
“We aim to please, Ford. Be seein’ ya.”
“Soon, I imagine.”
The merc nodded a final time before his visage dissolved from the screen. The ship commander leaned back, reflecting on the highly illegal act he’d just concluded with the mercenary crew of the CS Rattlesnake. The hiring of a crew to bomb a ship belonging to another, unaligned nation was something he could wind up serving a great deal of time for. The backlash of this action could be severe indeed should Command ever learn of it. But he could not with good conscience allow Jarn to have such a powerful vessel. Not given the estimated capabilities Commander Davenport had attributed to the craft. And any act to harass the Over Warden pleased Ford to no end. He determined to put the action behind him for now. He wasn’t going to even tell Davenport about this. The less his men knew, the better for them. The blame was solely his, and he’d assume total responsibility for any fall out.
The intercom squalled again.
“Skipper, we have assumed standard orbit over the second planet.” Lieutenant Bronstien informed him. The helmsman had command at the moment. It was his shift as officer of the deck. Ford again tapped the key to respond.
“On my way, Lieutenant.”
Chevy emerged on the bridge and instantly looked to the rotating green and blue world on the main viewer. It was a sparkling paradise, or seemed so from way up high. The commodore wondered what they would find here. Lieutenant Surall, who seemed gratified to be back aboard Endeavour, was standing to address him.
“A small array of artificial satellites are evident in planetary orbit, Commodore. I count twelve. Primitive, but stable.” She told him. Ford nodded, moving closer to the brown skinned Vulcan.
“Space flight level?”
“I have yet to detect an orbiting space craft. I suspect manned, rocket propelled capsules of limited duration. There are no advanced space borne detection systems in use. Our approach has not been detected.”
“Good. Hate to cause a panic.”
The CO rounded the edge of the blue railing and made for the conn. There, Bronstien abandoned the command chair and resumed his post at the helm. The kid was still walking stiffly on his prosthetics, but he had complained little about them in the last week. Perhaps he was gaining an aptitude for them. He considered the lieutenant’s capacity to carry out a landing mission. Too many things could go wrong for the officer, were Ford to order him down there among unknown primitive aliens. Better to wait till John either became better with them or till he received his cloned replacements.
“Begin detailed scanning of the planet surface. Helm, align planetary sensor dome with the surface.” Ford began passing the first orders of the survey.
The ship rotated on her axis by 90 degrees, till her bottom pointed toward the ground below. The view of the planet morphed into a solid half globe at the bottom center of the main screen as Endeavour now literally flew over this new world. Each officer and noncom present on the bridge went through the motions they’d been trained in. Starfleet was primarily an institution of exploration and diplomacy. It was all too easy to fall away from these peaceful ideals and plunge into a militant stance. Their most recent experiences exemplified this. Now they were returning to the duties most of them had joined the fleet for.
The CO’s yeoman; a new Petty Officer named Ailee Pershing, if Ford remembered correctly; stepped up to the command dais and proffered an update on the ship’s fuel stores consumption. The commodore studied the very young looking blonde, wondering if she were truly old enough to really be a petty officer. He wasn’t the oldest man in the fleet, but times like these, when he was face to face with the fresh hands of Starfleet, reminded him of the years that had passed. He took the PADD and slowly glanced over its contents.
“The USS Constantinople originally mapped this starsystem,” Commander Davenport was now reading from the science console to all those who were listening. An accompanying graphic of the old Constitution-Class cruiser was rotating on his board. “She mapped the twelve solar bodies orbiting the Type M star and made a close pass over the second planet. Her science officer noted the inhabitants were similar to humans, possessing an advanced industrial level of technology. They were using rudimentary radio technology, perhaps even radar. This was thirty years ago, just when the fleet expanded our influence into this sector.”
“So they’ve gone from barely having wireless comm to having rockets in three decades. Not bad at all.” Ford commented as he signed off on the fuel report. He handed the PADD back to the beautiful young yeoman and gave her a smile. Pershing returned it. She didn’t speak too much. Ford couldn’t remember an instance yet of hearing her voice. She remained near to the conn, watching the viewer. Her duties weren’t that pressing, so he was inclined to let her spectate for a while.
“Now detecting low levels of gamma radiation within the planet’s atmosphere.” Surall called out, making Davenport turn suddenly and join her at the scanner panels. Ford looked over to that station, his amorous appreciation for his very young yeoman momentarily forgotten.
“They have nukes?” He asked.
“These levels of gamma radiation are indicative of advanced fission development.” The science officer responded. She raised the primary sensor scope and peered down into it for a detailed examination. “There is evidence of nuclear detonations on an island in the extreme northern quadrant. I count three distinct blast patterns and there is an extensive testing facility in place there.”
The Vulcan officer drew silent as she manipulated her controls for a time. “There is some evidence of a fission reactor north of the area… The shielding of the complex is very thick and its exhaust is commendably light for such a device. This may, however, merely be some other kind of experimentation.”
“Any evidence of nuclear powered naval vessels?” Asked the XO. It was going to be Ford’s next question as well. The commodore nodded in self-satisfaction. The officer he was grooming to one-day take over this ship was going to do very well.
“Not as yet, but it may be submerged and therefor nearly untraceable.” Surall replied.
Ford stood up from his chair and moved past the yeoman who still stood by watching all this. “Continue standard surveillance. Pick out some likely prospects for landing missions. Let me know when you’ve located a few.”
***
Commander Davenport paused before the conference roof table and looked over his gathered officers and enlisted personnel. Lieutenant’s Smith and Surall sat in their normal positions to the left of the CO’s chair at the table’s head. Newly promoted CPO Dawayne Goodwin sat next to Specialist 1st Class Kimberly McCoy near the tale of the long silver table. The two of them obviously felt out of place among the higher ranking officers, but the XO wanted them both along for this mission. He would have liked to have had Bronstien as well, but the CO had ruled him out for medical reasons.
“Only one of you has been on a cultural infiltration and study mission before.” He told them, nodding as he did to Mister Goodwin. The husky-built security officer nodded once, still uncertain. “So we’ll be going over this slowly to get it right. We’ve located a few items of interest for landing party operations, and I plan to send two teams down initially to investigate them. Other departments may pick out more locations to beam down to, but they will be under the direct purview of their department heads and will have to get cleared by the Skipper.
“Our two items are the military governed rocket launch site on the southern continent and the nuclear reactor complex on the northern continent’s surrounding islands. The first is prepping to launch a manned space vessel into orbit. We’ll be observing their procedures and recording the show from ground while Endeavour watches from orbit.”
The Chief Petty Officer held up a questioning hand.
“You said this installation is military run?”
“Yes, but a significant amount of civilian traffic has been noted. Likely observers, dignitaries and researchers.” Ron told him.
“And off-duty military.” Goodwin added. “We’re gonna have to be damn careful. And I’ll bet we’ll need base passes and the whole bag of tricks.”
Ron nodded, making a note on his PADD. He was glad to have such an experienced noncom coming along on this romp. Goodwin had been on three similar landing missions during his decade in the service. “I’ll make sure we take care of that one before we transport. We should be able to zero in on any kind of visual pass from orbit, barring bad weather. We’ll try to get as many tricorder readings as possible if a discrete method presents itself. Mostly we’re going down to watch how they do things. Surall will command this mission and you’ll be designated Team One. Team One will also be comprised of Mister Goodwin and Lieutenant Smith. Smith will be delayed, however, pending the finish of the Ya’wenn fleet intercepts he’s currently decoding.”
At this, the communications officer nodded deeply. His expression showed that he was still thinking about the traffic he’d been picking through all morning long. The boy was damn good at decryption. Ron went on.
“Team Two will be led by myself and incorporate you, Miss McCoy, as my engineering assistant and a member of the security team to back us up.” At this, Ronald looked back to Goodwin. “You have any suggestions on whom to take, Chief?”
Goodwin thought over the men and women who belonged to his security squad. “Spec One Montoya. She’s good. I think she’s been on one infil mission before, aboard the Trinidad.”
“Very well. We’ll bring her along. Type One phasers and standard away gear for all team members. We’ll try to match terrestrial clothing as closely as possible. Now, let’s go over the proposed mission sites and familiarize ourselves with the terrain.”
Ron got down to business with his people. He held off on going over the main details till Specialist Montoya could join them. He mentioned several points about problems with the Universal Translator and tricorder emissions around certain kinds of low-tech systems. He could foresee few problems beyond the normal hitches that such a mission always cropped up.
***
hope that was enjoyed...
--thu guv!
Topic: #14: Relaunch (Read 15592 times)