“I, Koraq, having been appointed an officer in the United Federation of Planets …”

The grizzly grey-haired Klingon stood at attention, one hand raised repeating the words of the Starfleet Oath of Service. 

“…as indicated in the grade of Lieutenant do solemnly swear …” 

In times past, he held the rank of Captain, yet that had been in the Klingon Defense Forces. 

Lieutenant was his new rank … his Starfleet rank. 

“… that I will support and defend the Constitution of the United Federation of Planets …” 

It still felt strange.  He is Klingon! … Klingon to his fingertips! Yet, here he was swearing loyalty to the Federation. 

“… against all enemies, foreign or domestic, …”

And now the Klingon Empire was the enemy. They were enemy of the Federation and thus his enemy. 

“… that I will bear true faith and allegiance to the same; …”

His reason for turning his back on his people? 

Well, it was not a decision taken lightly nor did Koraq see it as turning his back on his people. … Only the government that ruled the Empire. 

“… that I take this obligation freely, without any mental reservations or purpose of evasion; …”

His reason? … The Klingon-Federation War. 

When the Klingons declared war on the United Federation of Planets, they did so against what had been an ally with home they had maintained honorable relations. 

The act of the declaration, in Koraq’s eyes, was beyond dishonorable. And whereas some of his kin remained on a path of dishonor, he chose to walk one of honor. 

“… and that I will well and faithfully discharge the duties of the office upon which I am about to enter.” 

His oath complete, the Klingon went from decades of commanding warships of the Empire to captaining those of the Federation. 

Yes, he was starting out low in rank, but being enrolled in Starfleet’s captaincy candidate program. 

It offered a fast track through ranks with a quick chance of soon becoming for the Federation what he had been for the Empire. 

Besides, how many Starfleet ship captain’s could say they were graduates of both the Klingon Imperial Academy *and* Starfleet Academy? 

——

The post From Klingon to Starfleet : Taking the Oath appeared first on The Malstrom Expanse.

Scene: Aboard the U.S.S. Timber Wolf
Date: August 1, 2294

A bundle for another time

Capt. Unyrra Sollace walked along the corridor of the starship she commanded, imagining she could hear the hum and slight vibration of the Kerala-class’ warp core. 

All her imagination of course as the warp core could not be felt through the decking or the sound of its power coursing reach her ears from where she stood. 

Her imaginations, however, gave her comfort as it was part of what for Unyrra was everyday life aboard the U.S.S. Timber Wolf. 

Farther down the corridor loomed the double doors to the ship’s arboretum. 

And once inside, it was easy to find the special guests that had asked to come aboard so as to make a private, special request of her specifically. 

With no idea what this request was to be, it did raise her curiosity up as it wasn’t everyday that one received a visit from a medicine person of the Bear Tribe Medicine Society — an interracial (now interspecies) society founded in 1971 by Sun Bear, an Ojibwe man who had a vision of people of all ethnicities coming together to learn to live in harmony with the Earth and natural world of the universe.

She found him located down a trail, standing atop a cliff, overlooking a waterfall that poured into a small lake – a lake located in the heart and hull of a starship out among the very stars themselves. 

He held up a hand sprinkling something into the wind … an offering she guessed … while he seemed to be muttering words of a prayer under his breath. 

Airing on the side of caution, Unyrra chose to wait for him to finish. 

Only when he turned away from what he had been doing and in her direction did she speak. 

Atohi Walker smiled as he stepped away from the cliff and approached the ship’s captain. 

“This is a remarkable place to find aboard a starship,” he said. 

Samuel Windwalker was a tall yet slender man, likely in his fifties or early sixties. His heritage was one not just of human mixed, but likely a couple other species as well. 

However, his features definitely showed deep roots in one of the tribal peoples of Earth North American origin. 

“I have to admit, it’s definitely a favorite spot of mine,” Unyrra returned with a warm smile. “A place to be and escape the calls of command during off hours.”

“Why don’t we sit, Captain, then and take in the view together as we discuss matters?” he asked with a nod, yet waiting for her to accept his offer to sit together. 

“Why don’t we indeed?” she returned, moving to sit lotus-style in a position to take in the view as they spoke.

After a moment, he placed the fur wrapped bundle he carried with him between them. 

“As you have likely surmised, there is a reason for my visit.” 

“I surmised as much,” she returned. “What can I do for you, Mr. Windwalker?” 

“Samuel, please, Captain.” 

“Only if you call me Unyrra,” she returned. 

“Very well.” Samuel smiled. “Unyrra it shall be.” 

“So, what brings you aboard the Wolf?” she asked. 

In response, he very lightly and respectfully patted the bundle between them.

“This,” he answered. 

“It is a sacred bundle that happens to protect a sacred Pipe within … a newly carved Pipe fashioned from black Pipestone,” he continued. “And its spirit has asked that it be brought here to you.” 

“I … I don’t understand,” Unyrra said, trying to make sense of it.

“Why would a sacred Pipe want to be brought to me?” she asked.  

“Because it wants you to carry it to where it needs to go … and when the time is right, pass it onto the person who it is truly meant for.” 

“So, I’m just a messenger then?” she asked, seeking clarity. “Who am I to deliver it to?” 

“THAT, I do not know, Captain, only that to say that you will know when you meet the person as the Pipe’s spirit will speak to you in that moment …. Whether through dream, intuition or other means, but there will be no doubt.”

“ In that moment when you meet the person it’s meant for,” Windwalker continued. “You will know.” 

“But why me?” Unyrra asked. 

“Why are any of us chosen for anything?” he returned in answer. 

“Those reasons were not shared with me other than the feeling that you are about to go on a journey and only through your journey will the Pipe be able to reach the person who is destined to carry it.”

Unyrra sat, taking in his answer and rolling it around in her mind … and it was her in her spirit she felt his words to be true.

‘But what journey?’ she asked herself inwardly. 

“Then who am I to argue with what is destined to be?” she said outwardly.

“Good!” Samuel exclaimed happily even as he reached for the bundle. 

“Then let us introduce you to this … as yet unnamed … sacred Pipe you will be carrying.”

As he opened the bundle and began spreading it out between them, he eyed Unyrra.

“You captain a wolf that travels the stars,” he said.

Many see the wolf as an adventurous spirit, loyal to its pack, a creature of courage & leadership, one who gathers wisdom from its adventures and is a great teacher,” he continued.

“This ship of yours is a beacon of life that runs through the stars as a wolf runs through a forest,” he continued. “The galaxy is her forest and she sweeps all of you along with her.”

As if on cue, a pair of wolves stepped from the tree line of the forest below, looking at them intently as the Medicine man turned his attention back to the Pipe between them.

At some point in the past, someone through adding a pack of wolves to the arboretum a fun addition.

Even if holographic in nature, they seemed to have personalities each of their own.

“Just as this Pipe has the spirit of the stars themselves, this ship has the spirit of the wolf it was so aptly named after.

—

Out of Story: This one is meant to introduce a new captain, ship and item … all of which are destined for a major story arc that is about to begin with the next story that’s yet to come.

The post U.S.S. Timber Wolf: Bundle for another Time appeared first on The Malstrom Expanse.

Down he went and the transporter officer was suddenly in complete panic mode.

Not because a Starfleet Fleet Admiral was crumbled on the pad in front of him … or was it a Klingon Dahar Master? …. One couldn’t be sure in situations like this.

Hell … maybe it was both?

“MEDICAL EMERGENCY IN TRANSPORTER ROOM 2!” he screamed into his commbadge, even as his hands flowed across his control panel in a professional manner that came from years of training.

He left the Klingon on crumbled on the transporter pad to the security officer who was supposed to be there as escort for the expected pair of Klingons but instead was overseeing the comfort of the flag officer sprawled before them all.

“He’s still alive,” the security officer called out before looking back at the transporter officer.

“What the hell happened????” he asked.

“According to diagnostics, the transporter of origin initiated the transport sequence of the pair making the handoff to our transporter which saw the patterns as basically identical and so registered it as ONE pattern!”

His fingers continued their dance, working the controls to see if the damage could be undone.

“So, the system merged the patterns into one form and the result is now laid out in front of us,” he continued.

“Can it be reversed?” Sec asked.

“I’ve already tried to reverse the transport …. Even used the Tuvix protocols from Voyager but because they were copies of the same damned person … The system can’t lock onto the individual patterns and still only sees the one!”

“We are SO SO fucked!” he added for good measure.

Monitoring the Klingon’s life signs til the medics arrived, the sec glanced back at the transporter officer.

“I definitely don’t want to be in your shoes when the brass … or their families find out,” sec told him.

Before the transporter chief could offer a response, the medical team burst into the room, simply adding to the chaos of the moment.

“There is no … easy … way of saying this,” Admiral Adoy began, “but there has been an accident.”

“Hauk and Hauk’ were beaming from the ceremony to their respective ships when there was … an accident,” he explained.

“Two beamed off one pad, but only one rematerialized on the other end,” he continued.

“Were they able to recover the lost pattern and rematerialize?” Admiral Quinn asked, taken aback.

“Only one pattern remained,” Adoy answered.

“Which one did we lose?”

“Both? …. Neither?” Adoy answered.

At Quinn’s puzzled expression, the Moketian continued.

“From what they’ve been able to piece together so far, the system hiccupped and mistook the two for one individual and combined their patterns into one.”

“Since they are essentially the same person, just from different realities,” he continued. “It went rather seamlessly with both consciousnesses knitting together into one – one that maintains the memories of both individuals.”

“How are efforts going to separate them back into two again?” Quinn asked.

“All signs point towards that being an impossibility, Adoy answered. “Something about the fact they are the same person … albet two different realities … Their patterns are impossible to differentiate and so splitting them back into two is …”

“… not possible,” Quinn finished for him.

“Seems this new version of Hauk has come to terms with it, however, and is shrugging it off.”

Quinn raised an eyebrow as the other Admiral continued.

“He feels both of his old selves would be content with this arrangement as both exist inside him … He is in a sense … both. … All their memories and even their traits were pretty much the same.”

“As they would see and approach things is as he does.”

“Apparently, it … completes them somehow,” he added. “As if it was meant to be this way from the very beginning.”

“Destined to be?” Quinn noted. “How are the Klingons and Hauk’s family taking this?”

“You know Klingons … They shrug off such things and so are content with Hauk’s decision,” Adoy answered.

“And the family?”

“Same … Families feel the person they love continues to exist. Only difference is Hauk’ got his missing eye back … thanks to his counterpart who … thanks to Hauk’ … now sports the scar across that once missing eye.”

“Has Hauk decided what he’s going to do … professionally speaking that is?” Quinn asked.

“Starfleet or Klingon Empire?”

“He will return to family holdings of House of Rha, which he will ‘continue’ to lead … and plans to serve in the Khitomer Alliance … straddling both, Starfleet and the Klingon Defense Force via the neutrality of the Alliance.”

“An interesting solution,” Quinn noted. “Not bad. … Going to miss my sparring sessions with Hauk’, however.”

“On that, Admiral,” Adoy said with smile. “Hauk’ wanted me to tell you that he expects on the mat tomorrow and to bring your sword … wanting me to tell you that you are NOT getting out of this week’s session that easily and as before … Holo-communicates will allow you both to continue the sessions via holodecks.”

Quinn laughed, knowing he should have realized he wasn’t getting out of it that easily.

Maybe they both WERE still in that new body created by a transporter gone berserk.

The post When Two Become One appeared first on The Malstrom Expanse.

By Mike Tripp

—

Scene: Battle Bridge, U.S.S. Dante
Stardate: 240513.1840 (aka. May 13, 2409)

“They went for it!”

Lt. Sean Dalmore punched the arm of the command chair in childish delight. The Borg had taken the bait and extended their shields around the doomed saucer section.

An alarm sounded from the tactical station currently manned by Suzanne – a Yeoman who was the only other person on the battle bridge besides Sean and Allen.

“Sir, sensors are detecting intruders!”

From the helm, Allen called up the proper readings before continuing.

“It seems Dante’s science officer created a special program to detect the subspace wave used by the Borg that lets remaining drones remain in constant contact with each other. That program is currently detecting 61… correction 64 Borg in and around engineering. “

The Dante’s makeshift Captain, Sean, laced his fingers together in front of him with his elbows resting on the chair’s arms as he tried to sort his way through it all.

“Do you see any signs of anything the former crew may have developed to counter a boarding party?”

Before Sollace could answer, a warp conduit opened, swallowing the LaForge-Cube with its intended prey still gripped tightly behind its shields. The Saucer went critical as a tremendous beam of white energy shot out across space, narrowly missing the Dante stardrive as the Borg Cube appeared to be vaporized.

—
Scene: Main Bridge, U.S.S. Nelson

<>

Dustin MacLeod stood behind the tactical station, a place he hadn’t been in years but felt as comfortable there as trying on an old pair of shoes.

He quickly pulled up Borg tactics as well as his old, pre-programmed weapons combinations.

J.B., the assistant chief security officer on duty, stood to the right on internal security and sensors, bowing to the XO’s superior tactical experience with the Borg.

The phaser blasts did not penetrate the Borg ship’s shields, of course.

Then the Dante began to fire upon the saucer section.

Seconds later, the Borg shield was extended around the saucer section, and the two ships began to move off together. The Dante turned away from the retreating ships as they began to go transwarp again, but simply coasting away under maneuvering thrusters.

The combined Borg- Dante Saucer began to disappear into the non-space of transwarp. When they were about halfway through, the saucer glowed white as her engines overloaded, and a tremendous beam of white energy shot out across space, narrowly missing what was left of the Dante and completely vaporizing the Borg cube.

Even at this distance, the Nelson shook violently in the shockwave.

What happened next was nothing short of spectacular.

When the afterimages faded from the crew’s eyes, there stood a wormhole in place of the saucer and Borg Cube. Bright oranges, reds, and deep blues swirled as a hole opened.

Immediately, J.B. called out, “Scanning… There is no signature from the other side that indicates a destination. The Borg ship and the Dante’s saucer section are gone.”

“Captain, I can’t predict its stability, but I do know that the Borg ship is on the other end and is severely damaged,” he continued.

The stardrive section seemed to be running out of luck, too.

One of about a dozen tendrils snaked out of the wormhole, crossing the Dante’s nacelles and pulling the abbreviated ship inside. Then the wormhole disappeared.

MacLeod looked down at his Captain, his expression grave.

“Captain, I picked up numerous transporter signals throughout the stardrive section during that battle and based on our scans, it is possible that over two hundred Borg are currently on board the USS Dante.

Tracey stood up and approached the viewscreen…her people were on that ship and they could be clueless that they had been boarded.

Even if they knew, there was little they could do….even if they had known where they had gone.

Dustin ran back to the Science Station and drew up a map of the Dante.

“I counted well over sixty in Main Engineering,” he exclaimed. “They’re going to take the ship from there and then work their way to the Battle Bridge!”

Captain Mills couldn’t help but feel overwhelmed at all the curve balls she’d been thrown.

—
Scene: Battle Bridge, U.S.S. Dante

Sollace fought with the controls as the wave passed over the ship, rocking it violently in its wake. A Wormhole appeared opening in all its brightly swirling colors. … Its tendrils snaked outward crossing the Dante’s nacelles, pulling the abbreviated ship inside.

Then the wormhole disappeared.

Passage through the wormhole was bumpy at best, lasting for barely more than two minutes, but seeming more like an eternity.

Then, she was through.

The Dante appeared on the other side not much the worse for wear, keeping in mind of course that it was only the stardrive section.

Nearby, drifted the shattered remains of the Borg Cube.

Sean lifted himself from the floor as was Allen.

Behind him, he noted Suzanne laying stretched out on the deck in a crumpled form. Moving toward her, his hand reached toward her neck…..Thankful when he felt a strong pulse.

Breathing a deep sigh, he turned to the FCO. “Report.”

“We’ve made it through the wormhole in something close to one piece. The wormhole has already closed, and the Borg Cube is drifting derelict 3,000 meters off the port bow,” Sollace reported.

Then he smiled briefly.

“It looks like there’s not much left of it. Sensors detect … about four or five life signs. And I don’t think the ship can be salvaged.”

Sean breathed another sigh of relief.

‘Well, that was one down,’ he thought to himself.

“What of the Borg currently on board?” he then spoke aloud.

“Sensors detect a total of 115 crawling around in the lower decks….and it looks like that number may be growing. They’re assimilating the crew as they go.”

“Did the former crew develop any sort of contingency plan?”

After reading through the files, Sollace’s smile grew as he read.

“Yes, sir! I don’t understand it all, but the program tracks down each individual Borg via their subspace wave. It can also disrupt and block that signal as well as achieve a transporter lock from it. The system is programmed to automatically lock on and beam them to whatever coordinates we state. It’ll continue until all boarders have been repelled.”

“Seems they just didn’t have the time left to initiate it,” he added.

The CSO smiled warmly. It seemed luck was with them.

“Mr. Sollace, set coordinates for 2,000 meters off the starboard bow and stand-by to initiate program on my mark. … MARK!”

With the sequence keyed, all the Dante’s remaining active transporters powered up as they sprang to life. Borg began materializing into empty space beyond the ship.

After ten minutes, they were safe again.

Sollace checked his readings.

“I read only 37 lifeforms remaining onboard including us.”

“Only thirty-seven out of this ship’s former full crew complement?” Sean asked, the shocked sorrow registering in his voice.

‘So much for saving the Dante and her crew,’ Sean thought to himself. ‘To think of all that had lost their lives in this.’

Pushing back those ugly thoughts, Sean had to think about the living.

“Where are we?”

“Checking sensors now,” Allen called out from flight control. … “Well THAT can’t be right.”

He re-tapped the commands back into the console a second and third time before speaking again.

“Readings show us just outside the Corvaenuz System,” he said finally, “but the stars are off slightly.”

“What do you mean … off?” Sean asked.

“Location is confirmed but……”

The young officer’s facial expressions twisted into a rather puzzled and mystified expression as his voice trailed off.

“What can’t be right, Ensign?” Sean prodded.

“Sir, our location is indeed the Corvaunis System, but …” he paused again, but only for a few seconds … “The time is off.”

“Off in what way, Ensign?” the acting captain prodded, again awaiting the answer.

“If these readings are correct … It says the year is no longer 2409,” he answered, swiveling in his chair to look his friend in the eye.

“Calculated by star positions, computer says the year is ….”

“… 2370,” a new voice on the battle bridge finished quite calmly.

“You have … yes … traveled 39 years back into what would be considered your past,” it continued.

All eyes swiveled to see who the hell had spoken, all rising (if seated) and bringing phasers to bear.

It was Sean as acting captain who spoke, however.

“And who the HELL are you? … Q ????”

“No, I’m not the entity referred to as ‘Q’,” he answered with a shake of his head.

“I’m Daniels … a temporal agent from the 32nd century, dispatched to investigate your sudden appearance within this timeline.”

Before anyone could breathe another word, Daniel’s touched a device attached to his forearm and immediately all present found themselves no longer aboard the scarred battle bridge of the Dante, but somewhere else entirely.

“Welcome to my temporal observatory,” the agent answered quickly before the question could be asked.

Sean asked the next logical question.

“You say you are from the 32nd century and we …. We have been transported back to 2370?”

“And what the hell is a temporal observatory?” Sollace blurted out.

Daniels raised a hand to cease questions before drawing in a long, deep breath.

“From what we have been able to gather, the Borg cube attempted opening a transwarp conduit looking to drag the Dante in with it. … Only the attempt resulted in a wormhole, slicing across time and reality to land you here in 2370 … as well as an alternate.”

“Wait, wait, wait … Not just into the past but realities???” Sollace exclaimed.

Sean placed a hand on his friend’s shoulder before stepping forward, as the original leader of the rescue team from the U.S.S. Nelson … and as formerly acting captain of the Dante, he represented both the Nelson team and the Dante survivors.

“So, YOU are saying that WE are no longer in 2409 … but 2370 … AND not even still in our own universe?” he asked trying to wrap his head it all.

“Exactly,” Daniels confirmed.

“That wormhole cut through the fabric of your universe and into one of the adjacent realities … not too dissimilar from your own … but definitely different.”

“Different in what way?” Sean asked, trying to stay up with the conversation even as his mind reeled from the idea of it all.

“There are slight bits of history … small things,” the agent swept his arm around the observatory and towards the timeline that encircled them all, “that differ enough that as history continues to expand forward … it will result and shape itself into a completely different timeline than the one you know.”

“Ok,” Sean said, finally finding his mental feet again. “Then send us back.”

Daniel’s shook his head.

“An impossibility,” Daniels answered quickly.

“Sadly, there is no going back for any of you … THIS … is your new home,” he continued.

“Why?” Sollace asked. “You are from the 32nd century. And from the look of this place, you surely have the technology. … Send us back.”

“We cannot because you are already still there.”

Daniel’s expression turned sad for them, mixed with understanding of how they must be feeling.

“As impossible as any of this sounds …,” and again he turned toward a floating timeline, calling up a visual representation as he spoke.

“… The you still aboard the Dante of yet a third reality was also sucked by the borg into the same type wormhole, only it cut from their universe into yours and only transported them backwards in time a few hours.”

“They warned Capt. Mills and the Nelson of what events were about to happen so those events could be altered and changed … as is correct for that reality’s timeline,” Daniels added.

Sean looked as if he was about to vomit.

“So, you are saying we still exist there … and yet we are here … at the same time?”

“What happens to us?” Allen Sollace added the question.

“This is where you are meant to exist now … Yes,” Daniels answered. “This is where you are meant to remain.”

“Our families … friends … our lives?” Sollace asked.

“You are where you need to be, and this reality’s events will unfold as they need to because of it.”

The temporal agent paused a moment before adding … “I am sorry about the loss of your family and friends … but those aren’t your lives any longer.”

Sean was still trying to wrap his mind around it all.

“But by being here, we’re altering this reality’s history,” he stated not so much as a question, but a fact.

“And yet that is what is needed for this universe’s timeline to unfold as is necessary,” Daniels answered with conviction in his voice.

“What happens to us?” Sollace asked.

Daniel’s waved his hand across the displayed timeline, sending it back as threads within the larger master line.

“We will help each of you in creating new lives, integrating you into this time, this place.”

“And we are to just ignore the fact that we know how history is going to unfold?” Sean asked.

Daniels shook his head. “You forget that I said this timeline unfolds differently from you own, in fact … the planet Rom …”

He paused as if catching himself before changing verbal tracks.

“… Let’s just say history here will unfold different from what you originally knew to the point that when you reach 2409 again … It will be completely different.”

“No,” Sollace said, crossing his arms stubbornly.

“No … Send us back. Family … friends … our lives are back there,” he continued. “Send us back now!”

Daniels’ shook his head but still smiled a thin smile.

“No … we cannot. … BUT I do now see why you end up becoming the ship’s cap … the person you are meant to be.”

Scene: Main Bridge, U.S.S. Fenrir
Stardate: 240513.1840 (aka. May 13, 2409)

Those on Earth knew the date as May 13, 2409 … a date burned deep into the soul of Capt. Ironheart.

Looking out over the bridge of his command … the U.S.S. Fenrir, NCC-185377, Allen saw not the crew but instead the events of 32 years prior.

It was on this date the U.S.S. Nelson answered the distress call of the U.S.S. Dante and dispatched a rescue team over to a ship whose crew had already been assimilated by an attacking Borg cube.

Was on this date that rescue team had assumed control of the Dante via the battle bridge and were swept into a wormhole created by said Borg cube’s failed attempt to open a stable transwarp corridor.

Thus, sweeping the surviving members of the team 39 years into the past … and into an alternate timeline.

No way of returning, young Ens. Allen Narross Sollace was forced to change his name (well, last name at least) and assimilate into that time, that place.

Thanks to the workings of temporal agent Daniels, he and others of the team were able to remain in Starfleet … beginning their new march through the years of history … including one Dominion War.

And now Allen Sollace … Allen Ironheart … had reached the date he’d last left in another reality whose timeline completely differed from the one he’d been forced to live just to reach the same date once more.

He’d helped establish a new colony, fought the Dominion War, worked his way up through the ranks of Starfleet and even assisted with saving lives of refuges from the supernova that claimed the Romulan homeworld and several of its colonies.

Just one of the many events different from what he’d learned in school as a child.

Daniel’s had let slip that Allen would go on to become a ship’s captain and that came to pass a few years back.

Stroking the arm of his command chair, he took pride in Fenris and her crew.

With a few final thoughts of his wife, children and grandkids … Capt. Ironheart noted that although the transition had been hard … leaving behind all they’d lost …, he was pleased with the way life had worked out.

He also made a note to contact Sean Dalmore … also now a Ironheart … on this day of all days and share a drink with his friend who was out there commanding a ship of his own as well.

The survivors of their original rescue team (being few in number) each agreed to adopt and share the family name “Ironheart” while also helping establish a new colony where they’d all call home.

Ironheart because they knew they’d have to have hearts of iron to see them through the tragedy of the lives (and loved ones) forever lost to them now.

They’d come to consider themselves one family … bound by ties beyond those of blood.

And that family had grown a bit larger over the years since.

A thought that left Allen smiling as he turned back towards the bridge and mission before them.

He definitely needed to remember to call his brother later on for that shared drink.

—

Out of Story: The above begins by revisiting a story written back in the 1990s from the play-by-email RPG group U.S.S. Nelson within the overall Trek universe of alt.starfleet.rpg (a newsnet group at that time).

Allen Sollace was my very first character and through this, I took the version of him that went through the wormhole and showed where he actually ended up … as the version that went back and warned the Nelson was indeed … from another reality even back then (to explain his the twin self remained and became one Ross MacBride … whose story will also continue within this STO verse, but more on that story at a later date.

Respectfully,

Capt. Allen Ironheart
CO, U.S.S. Fenrir

The post “The Hard Reboot” appeared first on The Malstrom Expanse.

Captain’s Log — U.S.S. Excalibur, NCC-87500

SD: 2024-1022.2215

It’s time to get this frakking show on the road.

Under my command, this Lamarr-class explorer has been our in space for the past seven months, but we have yet to conduct one single mission of exploration (or even diplomacy) beyond the scanning of whatever is within sensor range as we pass through the space in which we travel.

A lot of that I admit comes from my work within Alliance Central Command’s Malstrom Expeditionary Force, *BUT* when I accepted this role, it was understood that I would be a flag officer leading from the front lines.

Instead, we’ve spent the last many months ferrying crew and supplies to the various starbases, space stations and outposts within and surrounding the Malstrom Expanse.

And that has been a LOT of personnel that have boarded and disembarked this ship during that time.

But as a moment of pride, we can state that Hell’s Keep has been fully manned and in the process of a complete refit.

And Starbase Hatteras is also fully manned and operational with work underway to upgrade the starbase to its next and final form which will include full spacedock facilities.

This is not to say that we have no had a bit of adventure, however, and not all of it good.

Last week, we received an emergency distress call from a Klingon colony on Narvek IV with the contact itself sparse on details.

When we arrived, we found the outpost abandoned of all people.

There were signs of fire fight and battle, yet no bodies … of either attackers or those attacked.

Once the last of the supplies are dropped off at Kollaris Prime, we plan to return to the Narvek system to check in with the teams we left there and join them once again in the investigation and hunt to discover the fate of the colonists.

— Flt Adm. Hauk’

CO, U.S.S. Excalibur

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The namesake of the U.S.S. Shangri-La was introduced in the 2280s as the prototype of the class cruiser that went on to bear its name.

Then in 2399, the eighth and most current starship to bear the name launched as a Constitution III-class exploration cruiser, NCC-2575-G.

She saw several years operating in deep space, scoring several first contacts with newly encountered civilizations in the process while likewise observing / studying several more that were pre-warp and thus direct contact restricted via the Prime Directive.

But then in 2401 she was recalled from deep space and ordered to return to Earth for what ended up becoming another Borg invasion and takeover of the ships of Starfleet itself during that year’s Frontier Day ceremony.

Shangri-La was one among the majority of ships taken over by the Borg, but also one that received only minor damage during the process.

Once repairs were made and the fleet coordination software / systems removed, the Connie III cruiser was released from drydock once more and thrown back out into the depths of space in 2402.

In 2407, the ship was recalled and crew reassigned during as the ship was temporarily removed from active service for overhaul and refit.

Shangri-La G was stripped down only to be built back up with the latest in technology restoring her status to being one of the most advanced exploration ships in the fleet.

A Starfleet officer of mixed Klingon/Human/Romulan heritage, Capt. Hauk Wolfseye, assumed command and oversaw the refit while assembling a new crew for the Connie III’s eventual return to space.

“Not only did the Shangri-La help to survive the Borg on Frontier Day, it also extended our map of known space with many successful first contacts made in the process,” said Wolfseye during an interview prior to ship’s re-launch.

Even before her official re-commissioning, the cruiser was pressed back into service to assist with defending the Alpha/Beta Quadrants from the all out Borg Assault of 2409.

Although this ship was officially re-assigned to Alliance Central Command’s and the Malstrom Expeditionary Force, operating within the Malstrom Expanse, she soon found herself mired down once more into a maelstrom of continuing conflict and war in the form of the Klingon-Federation War, conflicts with the Romulan fight for independence from the Tal Shiar, the Cardassian “True Way” movement and of course the Iconian War and all that followed.

Ship and crew look forward to returning to the Malstrom Expanse and resuming their core mission of exploration and discovery.

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He once had a family .. a family of some note before the loss of the homeworld, yet he’d been pushed out by that time.

He also loved science in a family that for generations had served the military.

At a young age, Adalma attended the Romulan Imperial Academy, becoming an officer in the imperial navy after graduating.

Science was a gift that always came naturally to him, but so was the art of combat tactics.

The latter is the one embraced by both family and the Empire and thus the mold he found himself unhappily crammed into.

At least until a console exploded in his face, damaging eyes and optical nerves to the point of being legally blind — his sight too blurry to perform his duties.

It spelled the end of his career in the Imperial Navy as the Romulans considered him les than a man because of it.

As did his family for that matter.

With a long naval tradition, they held his loss of sight against him, making life miserable.

When the evacuations began, his family refused to accept Federation aid or assistance.

Adalma saw it as his ticket out of an extremely bad situation.

Sneaking onto an evacuation ship, he fled ffrom family and the coming horror the supernova represented.

And it was in the Federation that strangers not only took him in … but restored his sight with special glasses.

He surprised himself when he found after this that he actually wanted to get back out into space, but this time studying its mysteries as a science officer.

So, he applied to Starfleet Academy and was fast tracked into the fleet upon his acceptance.

Within two years, he had his own command and now commands the experimental Glenn-class science spearhead cruiser named U.S.S. Raegal.

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Daenerys … no family, no last name.

At least at the beginning of her tale.

The half Orion, half Romulan orphan was born in the darkness of slave pits owned by an Orion Syndicate warlord.

Her mother died in childbirth. Her father most likely someone who took advantage of her.

Ask Daenerys the name of either, and she will say simply she never knew them … only that her name was shared from that of her mother, also Daenerys.

She did often dream of her mother, wondering if any of the features of her own reflection might be a shadowy reflection of her.

But there were none in the slave pits where she was born and raised who could tell her anything beyond her mother’s name.

Also she knew is that they as she was growing up, everyone referred to her as “little Daenerys” … aka. short for the fact she was the young daughter of a Romulan slave with that name … Daenerys.

There are rumors she may have half-sisters out in the universe somewhere, but so far … no clues.

Genetic testing is an option that might help, but Daenerys has refused such for fear it might lead her to her birth father … who she would rather believe dead and unknown.

If her mother was Romulan, that would mean he Orion … and likely not a slave but one who took advantage of her mother at some point.

Just as others took advantage of her before her liberation by Starfleet — Capt. Agnarr Krog and the crew of the U.S.S. Valkyrie to be exact.

She still remembers quite clearly the moment freedom came to her.

It was marked at first by sounds of phaser and disruptor fire followed by bright flashes of grenades.

Tasked with finding and “dismantling” the arm of the Orion Syndicate operating within that sector, the Valkyrie had tracked the Syndicate to a network of asteroid bases operating within the Kaldrii system and set to the task of neutralizing said network and brining the ringleaders to Federation justice.

Delarys can quite clearly still see the hand of Capt. Krog reaching down to help her to her feet.

That simple act … climbing to her feet … in that moment represented climbing out of that hellhole and onto a much better life track,

It took time for Daenerys to recover from the trauma of her past life, but she did it.

And after a time, she not only recovered but found she wanted to relish in her freedom by exploring the stars and herself become a Starfleet officer.

Capt. Krog sponsored her application to Starfleet Academy, and on when registering … Delarys gave a lot of thought about how she wanted her name to be listed.

She chose to add to her name the last name of Valkyrie … in honor of those who saved her.

As for the rest of her story, it remains a work in progress.

—-

Author Note — Daenerys actually is actually a rebranding of a character I’ve had in game for a while now. It was a character I realized I never played and whom just didn’t speak to me any longer. So I decided to update the character’s appearance from human to Orion/Romulan with a completely different backstory.

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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

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H’nej ir-Fethraie tr’Ruth’ven was not born of a great or even small notable house.

And what’s more, he was born with an eye condition that left him with substandard eyesight.

As a child born in the Romulan Star Empire, these combined to see as considered one of society’s lowest cast.

He was lucky to land a job as a janitor as a teenager just to keep he and his family from starving.

There were times he considered ending it all, but yet he perservered … for the sake of his family more than himself.

Then came the supernova that changed it all.

When Starfleet arrived to ferry Romulan refugees to safety before that wave of destruction … and before the synth uprising on Mars derailed all that … H’e’nej and his family were among those rescued and moved out of harm’s way as Starfleet and the United Federation of Planets did not see things the same way the Empire had.

They did not look down on young Henej but instead helped fabricate glasses with corrective lenses that would when worn counter the effects of his eye disease.

From that moment forward, the young Romulan saw things literally much more clearly.

His family safely relocated, H’nej made it his mission to serve in Starfleet to see if he could forge a future for himself as bright as the very stars themselves.

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