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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“WHAT IN THE NINE FIRES OF GRETHOR IS GOING ON, ADMIRAL?!?!”

The people in the spacedock’s command and control center melted out of the way of the fuming Klingon.

Especially since not many would dare speak to Fleet Admiral Jorel Quinn that way, but then the Commander-and-Chief of Starfleet had been expecting this confrontation.

“What can I do for you Fleet Admiral?” he asked.

Hauk’ bulled his way through the room like a tornado surrounded by dark clouds spitting hail and lightning.

Of course, his voice rang like a thunderclap as he spoke.

“What’s the meaning of this?”

Hauk tossed the padd onto the console at which the Trill flag officer had been working.

Jorel didn’t even give it a glance. As stated before, he’d been expecting THIS confrontation.

“You STRIPPED my ship of its name before it could even be christened,” the Klingon fumed.

“WHY?”

“You of all people here KNOW what that name means to me,” he added.

Jorel shot a quick glance at Capt. Akira Sulu and with a gesture had him activate the privacy bubble around the area immediately surrounding the master holographic display where the three officers now stood.

The bubble muted any sound or sights within the bubble by those outside until it was again deactivated.

“There are a few things you need to know, and I had to wait until everything could be verified and RE-verified,” he said finally.

“What in Grethor are you talking about?” Hauk asked.

“What …… THINGS?”

He dragged out the last word for effect.

“What I’m about to tell you is classified. … At least for the moment,” the CINC began.

“An Odyssey-variant of a class we’ve never built … or considered for that matter … was found adrift and dark.”

“She was floating outside an anomaly the Valkyrie happened to have been sent out investigate … a location I’m not quite ready to speak of just yet.”

“What I can tell you is that this is a ship … with a registry … you might find very interesting.”

Jorel tapped the console in front of him to alter the holographic display before them.

Hauk’ took an involuntary step back before regaining his composure and stepping forward again, to better inspect the ship visual currently displayed.

It was indeed a variant of the Odyssey line (as this reality would call it), but definitely not one from this reality.

But Hauk’ knew it well as it was one he’d known well in the alternate universe he’d originally called home.

And it wasn’t just the class of starship he knew well, but the ship itself as well.

Written across the saucer, was … “U.S.S. Excalibur” … “NCC-71446-A.”

After the U.S.S. Excalibur, NCC-71446, had been destroyed in the Second Battle of Centerpoint, it had not taken long before another ship with that name had been christened.

Unlike the Odyssey-class, this ship featured a round saucer and nacelle pylons that swept forward.

In the display, the ship was dark and lifeless … floating dead in space.

She might not have been the one that had served as his flagship once upon a time, but she was one of which he still had definite ties with.

The ship, however, had been reported missing and lost — believed captured by the Horvauk (an offshoot of a race called Undine in this reality).

Swallowing hard and without turning away from the display, he asked the question.

“What of the crew?” he asked, his voice cracking slightly.

Jorel smiled.

“I’m pleased to report that your god daughter is alive and well as are most of her crew.”

“Alive?” Hauk’ turned.

“And despite the anomaly draining power about every system on that ship, Capt. Bahni’qin managed to somehow keep her people alive.”

“It took over three weeks before Excalibur was located and another week and a half before they could figure out how to extract them from all the gravity wells that held them …”

The CINC paused a moment before continuing.

“You understand we had to verify that ship’s origins and the crew’s identities and origins as well before we could even think of sharing any of this with you.”

Hauk’ nodded. It was far from his … as the humans would say … ‘first rodeo.’

Jorel switched the view of the ship to one more current.

The image now shown ship nestled in drydock with hull more crisp and solid … definite life within her spaceframe.

“And considering that we plan to add this ship to the fleet … still under the command of your god daughter,” Jorel said with a smug grin, “I’m sure you can see why you’ll simply have to come up with another name for your flagship.”

“We did have to replace the saucer section by the stardrive section was relatively intact so a welcome addition that comes at a time when we really need new ships.”

For too many years now, Hauk’ had felt his god daughter lost to him — daughter of a good friend and one whom he’d pledged himself to protect and help guide through life and along the warrior’s path.

And not even because the whole of his reality had collapsed as they’d been missing since even before that.

Now … he was without words.

“I need to see her,” Hauk’ said.

Jorel nodded.

“Excalibur is being assigned to the Malstrom expanse,” he answered.

“You should find ship and crew already there once you’ve returned.”

The Klingon gestured towards the privacy curtain. “Why all this?”

“For all your gruffness, you Klingon’s tend to be an … emotional species at times,” he answered.

And quickly, the CINC grinned.

“That and I wasn’t sure just how angry you were likely to get before I could explain the situation.”

Jorel winked. “Wanted to spare you the dignity of a public ass kicking.”

Hauk’ could respect the answer, but … “My ass kicked? … You dream, Admiral. You dream.”

Jorel laughed before putting a hand on the other’s shoulder.

“Congratulations on your daughter.”

“Thank you, Admiral. You’ve no idea …” Hauk’ fought back tears. “…the hope this gives me.”

“It’s more than just having her back.”

He paused. “It’s a piece of … home … returned to me.”

Hauk’ had long sense made his peace with his home galaxy being lost and gone, and this reality home.

But just as he’d hoped to find other survivors and refuges of his verse possibly hidden within the Malstrom Expanse, it was a slim hope with the Klingon being a realist.

In his heart, he’d committed those there just as his daughter before him to the afterlife.

And now she’d returned as if on the wings of what some humans might call a Valkyrie.

Hauk’ paused again, looking to the display and the Excalibur.

“Beowulf,” he said after a moment.

“Since my new ship has to change its name … U.S.S. Beowulf.”

“It’s a name that’s been on my short list for quite some time now.”

Beowulf … an Old English epic poem in the tradition of Germanic heroic legend consisting of 3,182 alliterative lines. It’s considered one of the most important and most often translated works of Old English literature.

It’s a story surrounding the deeds of Beowulf — a hero and prince of the Geats.

A young warrior who comes to the aid of Hrothgar, king of the Danes, whose great hall, Heorot, is plagued by the monster Grendel.

Beowulf kills Grendel with his bare hands, then kills Grendel’s mother with a giant’s sword that he found in her lair.

Later in his life, he becomes king of the Geats, and finds his realm terrorized by a dragon, some of whose treasure had been stolen from his hoard in a burial mound.

He attacks the dragon with the help of his thegns or servants, but they do not succeed.

Beowulf decides to follow the dragon to its lair at Earnanæs, but only his young Swedish relative Wiglaf, whose name means “remnant of valour”, dares to join him.

Beowulf finally slays the beast, but is mortally wounded in the struggle. He is cremated and a burial mound by the sea is erected in his honour.

In a nutshell, Beowulf’s tale is one worthy of song and opera.

And you have not read the true story until you’ve read it in its original Klingon.

It’s understandable why this work by an anonymous author captured the heart and imagination of the Klingon.

And then there was Excelsior-class variant released not long after the Excelsior itself.

The NCC-2701 was an Excelsior-class that updated technologies originally found in the then outdated Repulse class.

She was built to explore the farther reaches of space, existing for longer periods out past the known frontiers while operating alone.

Her discoveries and deeds were many, yet she and her crew were often eclipse by the large shadows of the Enterprise and Kirk … Excelsior and Sulu.

Hauk’ always felt she deserved more recognition and time in the spotlight.

Plus, he happened to know there was no Beowulf currently in active service within the fleet as the Akira-class version had been decommissioned following damage sustained during the last Voth incursion.

The Commander-in-Chief of Starfleet retrieved the padd Hauk had so unceremoniously thrown down in front of him earlier and made notes on it before giving his authorized blessing.

“U.S.S. Beowulf… NCC-2701-A, it will be then.”

The Fleet Admiral handed the Klingon back the padd.

“Congratulations, Fleet Admiral on both the return of your daughter AND your new starship.”

The post “Swords, ships and goddaughters” appeared first on The Malstrom Expanse.

by Hauk – Pathfinder

Scene: Main Bridge — U.S.S. Artemis
Location: Solanae Dyson Sphere – Interior Space
Time: Five days into a Voth offensive

—-

Being thrown across the bridge of my starship was NOT on my list of things to do today.

Yet that’s what happened.

“HELM … EVASIVE!” I nearly screamed, coming out of my chair. “SHORTEST ROUTE NOW!

That was mistake one … getting out of that chair.

What was it Kirk once said? … Don’t ever let them pull you out of that chair?

On the main viewer, explosions wracked the length of the Voth dreadnought in a chain reaction spreading from one end to the other with grand blinding effect.

Held my feet like any seasoned sailor of old for that part, yet those explosions were happening well ahead of time planned.

On the viewer, the screen grew brighter and brighter until growing shadows flew towards us.

“BRACE! BRACE! BRACE!”

Of course there was no bracing for me as I’d stupidly gotten out of my chair in the middle of a heated combat situation.

Such a rookie mistake … celebrating the victory before you’d made good on the escape.

As the Voth dreadnought came apart, pieces of the massive ship … big pieces, small pieces, medium sized … huge … tiny and then those that seemed like a small moon.

It was one of the latter the helm with a skilled hand managed to avoid but there had been only one path and that was a path through a lot of those small and medium sized debris I’d told you about.

When the Artemis slipped past the one massive chunk, it seemed a thousand smaller ones were waiting as we walked straight into it like walking into a cloud of mosquitos on a hot summer day down around the Grand Bayou of Caullatru III.

Artemis shields were overwhelmed in an instant by the smaller pieces as a larger chunk crashed through the starboard side of the saucer section … cracking it open with a strike on the dorsal side as the collision sent our Excelsior II class into an uncontrolled spin.

That was when I went flying across the bridge, btw.

In my mind’s eye, it was or should have been a great feat of gymnastics prowess.

But when I looked back on the bridge security footage sometime later, I realized I would have to give it a rating of 3 out of 10 as I didn’t even come close to sticking the landing and actually overshot the runway by …

Well, let’s not get into that.

Enough to say that because you are reading this, I survived … thanks to the warrior tough build we Klingons seem to have been born with.

And if not for this hard head, I’d be in a torp casing right now with some anthem playing as they shot my Sa’Hut (or as humans would say … “ass”) out into space.

I didn’t survive the destruction of my reality just to be killed by an act of stupidity on my part.

Speaking of survival, the only reason we are alive today is because of the skill of Ens. Atyza Sh’vhiahres, the Andorian working the helm.

Atyza is someone I plan to make sure sticks with me as we transfer off the Artemis and onto the next.

Transfer off? … Why, you ask?

Despite the fact we lost a nacelle to a shower of pebbles (well, pebble-sized debris), Atyza managed to get the thrusters only long enough to control the force of our spin to level us out, changing our trajectory to take us through what was likely the only clear path into the heart of the still exploding Voth ship.

We emerged on the other side just as their ship went nova … Artemis catching the edge of that explosion but this time being thrown into the clear by it.

Still a bit more damage as a result, but all of it remains repairable at this point.

It’s just going to take more weeks than we can afford right now, so the crew and I are being transferred.

We will be taking over what was supposed to become Capt. Ruble’s new command … the U.S.S. Excalibur, NCC-71446.

Sadly Bill (who I’d met once in the reality and was a friend back in mine) was killed during an engagement with the Borg as were several members of his crew.

Thier ship had been boarded by the collective.

As captain (and because of the person he was), Bill led a fireteam into the bowels of his ship, seeking not just to save the ship from the Borg … but more so, his crew.

It was too late for many, but I’ve heard the stories first hand from survivors who say that without Bill’s sacrifice … they would now all be drones and the ship “assimilated.”

The old ship went into drydock for refit and Bill’s crew all reassigned.

Although Hauk’ was glad his new ship was coming, this wasn’t exactly how he’d wanted to receive it … at the expense of one such as Bill.

Not an easy thing to sit in the chair of the great Bill Ruble (a man I highly respected), but I promise to do my best to take good care of what should have been HIS command.

—-OUT OF STORY—-

Updated this story to reflect the change from Tempest to Maelstrom as well as the change in ship class.

And have I said yet? … The Connie III-class is extremely fun to play with in game!

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by Hauk – Pathfinder

Scene: Main Bridge — U.S.S. Artemis
Location: Solanae Dyson Sphere – Interior Space

—-

When I asked for the chance to test the Artemis before taking her to the Malstrom Expanse, this was not exactly what I had in mind.

My name’s Hauk’, fleet admiral in rank (surprised they let me keep that one) and captain of the U.S.S. Artemis … future task force commander of her to be assigned battle group.

I’d asked the chance to put the ship through her paces, yes.

But NOT immediately to the front lines.

Personally, I wonder if they simply wish to see how well we work as a team, putting us through our paces more than this Excelsior II-class cruiser we’re riding.

“Communications … Open a channel.”

“Channel open,” the young Andorian returned.

Swear she looks like one from back in the my home universe.

By Kahless, she could actually be a version of someone I knew back then, just this reality has been on a different track long enough people of the past went on to not meet some they connected with back in my verse and connected with others in this one.

Producing children and grandchildren in some cases similar but different from those I knew.

Makes life interesting sometimes figuring the ins and outs of who might be a version of who from when comparing “there” with here.

“Transport Zeta-3-7-8 … This is the U.S.S. Artemis. Let us lead the way so we can clear out those swarmers before you head for the docking port.”

“Then we’ll hang back just far enough for you to do your job and for us to keep the Voth off your back far enough they can’t get a lock on you.”

[“Acknowledged, Artemis … We’re hanging in your six on approach.”]

“Helm … Set course for the target docking port. … Take us in.”

Swiveled in my chair to look behind me.

“Weapons … Time to try out that new firing mode. Curing to see how this autotargeting system’s fire at will / beam overload mix does real world.”

The Romulan weapons’ officer, S’val, grinned and gave a nod.

“Primed and ready, Admiral.”

At first, all was smooth sailing … until the swarmers descended from the heavens like a plague of locusts.

“Let her rip.”

Yes, a human term, but then I’d spend the last couple of decades surrounded by them, since making the switch to Starfleet.

“Firing.”

Out in the space of the dyson sphere, antiproton beams of Ba’ul design lanced in several directions at once with powerful bursts thrown in her and there.

Striking targets, many of the beams then lanced out again to find another target and sometimes yet another.

It was the nature of these beams to spread their destructive love.

Although I’d had my doubts about these new weapons, they seemed to be more than capable of getting the job done.

The swarmers popped like a swarm of glob flies caught by a lightening bug zapper on a hot summer afternoon.

ZAP PAP POP BOOM!

The way clear, Transport Zeta-3-7-8 slipped under the Artemis and headed to the docking port as the heavy cruiser came about just as a squadron of Voth frigates and a couple battle cruisers turned their way.

‘Time to see what this ship can do,’ I said in the thought cage that is my mind.

— @P-A-T-H-F-I-N-D-E-R

Aka. Fleet Admiral Hauk
CO, U.S.S. Artemis

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