Scene: In the Darkness — Starship interior
Location: Surplus Depot LT68
—
First there was darkness.
Then came the light … swirling lights that brought with it humanoid forms, followed again by darkness.
“Admiral, I still don’t think you should be doing this,” came a voice in the dark.
“Jeffery … shut up. Starfleet admirals do what they damn well please,” said another.
“How about you both SHUTUP and let us do out work,” growled the Klingon engineer.
He held a specialized engineering tricorder in one hand and a tool kit in the other and a bag of assorted goodies on his back.
Jeffery had also noted the two … the Starfleet admiral and the Klingon engineer that is … looked an awful lot alike.
The Klingon in the lead simply grunted as he snacked the flashlight in his hand several times, giving it several good shakes to make the faulty device finally activate.
Hauk’ ignored the two salvage yard attendants and began his exploration of the shattered hull.
One of the few great things about being a fleet admiral, as far as Hauk’ was concerned, is that by the very basic definition of that title … one oftentimes had a fleet at their command.
And Hauk’ was putting together his “fleet.”
With the Iconian wars in the rear view and the Terrans plus Borg on the slow burn, Hauk’ could get back to rebuilding the number of ships at his disposal.
Only problem is that the number of active starships available or even those under construction was … limited.
So, out of the box thinking (more common actually since the Iconian War) brought he and his twin brother (born of different realities) here.
“I tell you these salvage yards are latnium mines,” said engineering Hauk. “IF you know where to look.”
“And right now, you’ve got exploring the underslung hull of a shattered Duderstadt-class, all that remains of the U.S.S. Red Wolf,” retorted Fleet Admiral Hauk’.
“Yes … one of the ships shattered during the Frontier Day Borg assault on Earth,” the Klingon engineer / ship designer Hauk returned.
“Many ships like this one that were damaged in that assault were committed to the dark even though they still had a lot of fight left in them.”
“And this one isn’t even a ship,” Hauk’ spit out. “Not any more at any rate,” he added sadly, his eyes scanning what remained of former ship’s main engineering.
“And what better way to help them regain their honor than to see those we can save restored to life!” Hauk exclaimed, sweeping his tricorder across the space.
“There.” Hauk’ pointed to the console they wanted.
“And you know as well as I that this ship isn’t going anywhere. Her time’s done. Don’t care how sad a history she might have. Redemption just isn’t in the cards for her.”
“Strange that I should even have to dignify that with a response,” noted Hauk as he headed for the indicated master engineering console.
He shrugged off his pack and pulled out the portable generator, plugging it into the port on the console.
Life flowed back into console after years of quiet.
Only then did he take the larger design padd he’d had tucked in his backpack and set it on top the glowing tabletop console.
“Look here … This ship has an interact secondary hull while the Eagle has most of the front section of a primary hull and what little is needed on the backside we can get from the Albion,” he explained.
Jeffery the yard technician looked over the Klingon’s shoulder curiously.
“And I know there’s a set of intact pylons and nacelles over on what little remains of the … What the hell is that ship’s name.”
He looked over to his partner, Mark.
“You know the one …over in section D-937.”
“The Hiryu,” answered Mark. “Sad what happened to her crew. … God rest their souls.”
“And you want to stitch these pieces together to Frankenstein a ship?” Hauk’ asked stepping close into the circle of the console’s light.
“Frankenstein?!?!” Hauk scoffed.
“We’re talking ships all of the same class met an all too soon end,” he continued.
“When we’re done, you’ll have a solid UPGRADED Duderstadt-class starship forged from the shards of those that came before her … ship’s lost but whose legacies deserve more.
The Admiral still wasn’t quite sold on the plan.
“But a Duderstadt?”
“These ships mix science with weapons.”
The Klingon warrior turned ship design engineer’s fingers dancing across the console as he answered.
“And if you’re going into that soup the humans call the Malstrom Expanse, you’ll need science to cut through it and weapons to meet the … challenges … in there.”
“And when you mix the two together, those weapons cut a whole lot deeper when needed.”
Hauk didn’t answer as his eyes looked around in thought, seeing what he could see in the dim circle of light cast by the master systems engineering console.
Finally, he looked back towards the two yard hands.
“We’ll take it. … Them … Whatever, but we’ll take them”
“Admiral, that’s now how it works,” said Jeffery.
Hauk reached into a pocket built into his pants’ leg and pulled out the mini-padd he always carried.
With a flick of his fingers, he transmitted the “blank check” authorization he’d been given by Commander-in-Chief Fleet Admiral Jorel Quinn himself.
“It is today.”
Time: Six months later
“I’m staring at a massive hole in the hull of the Andúril where the frakking secondary deflector is supposed to be,” Hauk’ growled. “Where the frakk is it?”
[“Admiral, you should have it by …”]
“DON’T YOU DARE SAY TUESDAY OR I SWEAR BY GRETHORS FLAMES I WILL REACH THROUGH THIS OPEN CHANNEL AND RIP YOU DAMNED HEART OUT!”
The Klingon caught himself, took a deep breathe, held it a second and then released it … calming himself.
“We’ve been trying to get this deflector for five months and for five months I’ve heard the same damned thing … ‘Next Tuesday. … Next Tuesday’ … And I’m frakking tired of hearing it.”
“So, I’m going to tell you what we are going to do,” Hauk’ instructed.
“Right now, the I.K.S. Qu’In ‘an bortaS has docked at one of the lower cargo ports of your station,” he continued.
Hauk’ hated people that wrapped the supply chain with bureaucracy and politics.
“You are going to take that secondary deflector …the Strategic Deteriorating with the EPG modifiers … and put it on that ship which will bring it straight to us.”
Beside him, his counterpart twin gave him a nudge, pointing at something on the padd he held.
“And for the time and headache you’ve caused, you’re going to also hand over one of those Mark XV Exotic Particle Field Exciters with the EPG enhancements as well.”
The science engineering division quartermaster tried to speak, but Hauk cut him off before cutting him off at the knees.
“Or …,” the fleet admiral stepped forward for added effect.
“I’m going to expose your little supply black market money scheme you’ve got going on. … Do I make myself clear, Captain?”
Expressions of the man on screen shifted through a rainbow of emotions … surprise, anger, horror and finally fear.
Hauk’ wasn’t the only fleet admiral or shipyard, etc., out there trying to rebuild.
So, he took a wild swing and a bluff that this man was using that to his advantage and profiting by re-routing equipment according to whoever happened to be the highest bidder.
[“Crystal, Admiral. … I’m placing the orders now.”]
“Now, let’s talk about what’s needed for the Dracarys …”
Time: One month after
The upgraded Duderstadt-class starship named U.S.S. Andúril, aka. “Flame of the Federation” … forged from the shards of shattered starships that came before, flew in formation with the Nordlys and Arkenstone along with Chekov-class variants Balerian, Dracarys, and Syrax.
The Constitution III-class U.S.S. Beowulf led the way but pulled up and to the side before taking position above the ships below.
[“This is Fleet Admiral Hauk aboard the Andúril … Let’s do this.”]
And with that, Hauk’ led part of his fleet into the soup of the Malstrom Expanse before some other galactic calamity could pull them away.
[“This is the Beowulf. … We’ll guard your six, Admiral.”]
“I expect no less, Beowulf, and I’ll be back before you know it.”
Respectfully,
~ Hauk — Pathfinder