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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