Ansolon Season 02 / Episode 14
by Alan Tripp

2412

Unknown Forest

“The Straits,” Malstrom Expanse

Cmdr. Valyres Morgraz could feel the life flowing around her.

For the empath, it was unlike any sensation previously encountered, except for maybe that one time during survival training on Ephes VI.

“Primal … That’s the best way I can describe it,” she informed her captain.

Shallana Ironwolf wiped her brow. … The humidity making it hot as hell.

Even without the visual evidence surrounding them, she’d have trusted her first officer over scanning equipment any time, any day.

The Betazoid / Vulcan closed her eyes and fought to push through the primal to find any signs of something here that … well … didn’t belong here.

The crew of the now lost Crazy Horse had been force to quickly abandon refuge aboard the Duderstadt-class U.S.S. Sparhawk for the same reasons as the original crew.

No air … the crew dies.

So they followed the Sparhawk crew in beaming down to the surface.

It cost them the last reserves of energy from the batteries, but yet again the entire crew was alive and accounted for with yet another chance to live.

If they’d not drifted through the stargate and into the interior of a Dyson Sphere, the living part would have quickly become dying.

But they were alive and although they had no time to conduct scans from up above, they were alive and wandering around nearly blind in what seemed a tropical rainforest.

Life was so think that with whatever else was around, their scanners were useless.

“For the moment,” the captain had said with that ‘I refuse to give up’ attitude of hers.

But as was said a moment ago … ‘nearly blind.’

Because of her mixed heritage, her telepathic abilities from her Betazoid heritage was limited to her being empathic.

Because of her Vulcan side, those empathic abilities could at times seem magnified.

If not for that Vulcan genetic gift, she’d not be able to cut through the blinding primeval soup of life surrounding them.

So thick with life, it was like trying to hear whispers in a crowded room with everyone talking at once.

But there it was again … something that did not belong.

Or someone might be closer to the mark and that person was in a lot of pain.

“That way,” she said, holding up and arm and pointing east.

“Then that way we go,” Shallana said.

“MOVE OUT!” the captain ordered in a louder voice.

“Davidson … You have point. Heads on a swivel as who knows what’s out there,” she continued.

Ten minutes later, Davidson up front raised a hand, halting the column.

That same hand wiped sweat from his face on the way back down to his rifle … a rifle he slowly swung from one side in a slow sweeping arc to the other.

There was no need to hush the people as everyone remained quite, even that Bolian from engineering named Hronoc which in itself was rather surprising.

Valyres again closed her eyes and concentrated, trying to make sense of what the patterns of life surrounding them were telling her.

Slowly filtering out this and that mentally as best she could.

And then her eyes flew open.

“RUN!” she ordered, swinging her rifle down from should to ready position.

“I SAID RUN!!!!” she screamed.

And then her scream was overwhelmed in volume by another.

Davidson screamed even as he pulled the trigger on his phaser rifle.

Everyone finally saw what he’d seen seconds before as a giant reptilian head came down from above, clamping shut over the human to where the upper half disappeared down the throat while the bottom half fell limp to the ground.

And then it unleashed a primal roar that had everyone running for their lives.

Respectfully,

Cmdr. Valyres Morgraz
XO, U.S.S. Crazy Horse

The post The Straits: “Primal Screams” appeared first on The Malstrom Expanse.

Ansolon Season 02 / Episode 09
by Alan Tripp

2412

U.S.S. Crazy Horse

“The Straits,” Malstrom Expanse

“I tell you there is a ship out there,” Jinesleis said.

“An intact ship, the Orion science officer emphasized, “that is in better shape … hull wise than this one.”

Shraz crossed and then uncrossed his arms, waiting his turn.

“You know everything is limited but did manage to cut through that soup with the tactical sensors enough to confirm what Jines is seeing,” the Caitian noted.

“And the silhouette match’s that of a Duderstadt-class,” he added.

“So likely the Sparhawk,” Shallana said.

“Couldn’t get anything beyond location and silhouette … and thankfully Duderstadt are unique in ship’s profile,” Shraz confirmed.

“So most likely U.S.S. Sparhawk… And structurally in better shape than we are at that,” he continued.

At last … hope.

“And I understand you already have the workings of a plan on how to reach her?” the captain asked.

Jenesleis laid her larger workpad in front of her captain.

On the screen was as much of a map as sensors had allowed.

The Orion tapped its surface.

“We’ve determined this current should sweep us from where we are straight to her.”

“And how do we get into said current?” Shallana asked.

“Blow the shuttlebay doors followed immediately by blowing the main ventral airlock,” Shraz explained.

“The expulsion of air from shuttlebay should be enough to give us the needed thrust and the blown hatch the course correction to reach the current,” the Orion continued.

“And once in the current, it will do the rest,” added the Caitian.

“This is where it gets tricky,” he continued, looking back over to the science officer.

“We are gonna have to be ready to abandon ship as soon as we are within range of the Sparhawk or we’ll be going down with the ship.”

“Meaning Crazy Horse is gonna rip herself apart … BUT,” Shraz added.

“But, she should last just long enough under the sheer and gravemtric forces to get us there AND we should have just enough juice left the batteries to power the transporters for one last set of transports to get us there.”

“Will we be able to breath once we get there?” Shallana asked.

Both shrugged, but it was the Orion who made the suggestion.

“I’d say either have the crew put on environmental suits or be prepared to hold their breath,” she said.
“Just in case,” she added.

Shallana didn’t even have to think about it as time was against them.

“Do it.”

Twenty minutes later, Crazy Horse was riding the waves of the streaming current, following its course through the region her crew had dubbed “The Straits.”

And with each passing minute, the groans of an already overtaxed hull grew louder … echoing throughout the small ship.

Hold together, Love. Hold together,” Shallana whispered to her ship.

Engines had been gone.

Reserves and the batteries were all that was left as they Okinawa-class destroyer surfed along.

If not for the simple fact that most consoles surrounding the bridge were already dark, Shallana imagined there would have been more sparks and explosions.

But everything they had was being pumped into navigational sensors and structural integrity.

Soon to be shunted over to the transporter systems.

Speaking of which …

“Make sure they are maintaining constant transporter locks on all crew,” she ordered.

“We haven’t lost anyone yet, and I will be damned if we lose someone with this next stunt.”

Shraz nodded and gave an affirmative.

The ride was reaching a point her teeth were vibrating in her head.

Then three things happened at once.

First, they reached their destination with the Crazy Horse slipping into the same bubble that housed a near dark Duderstadt-class.

Second, the alarms sounded but were drowned out by the sounds of the hull beginning to crack like a smacked eggshell.

Shallana could already hear the sounds of air seaping through cracks as the protective dome of the bridge module itself was compromised with decompression eminent.

And third, the transporters kicked in with Shallana’s hand automatically going to her medicine bundle with her sacred Pipe that was attached to her environmental suit.

In her mind, she could hear the death cry of the Crazy Horse even as she and her people were whisked from the jaws of death and into the unknown of the U.S.S. Sparhawk.

The ship’s whose destress call had brought them here was now the next leg in their journey.

“Give me a headcount,” Shallana ordered through her environmental suit’s comm unit.

“I want to make sure everyone made it,” she continued.

It only took a couple of minutes for the numbers to come back and for the time being at least … all of her crew continued to survive.

“Ok … Remember your assignments,” Shallana ordered.

“I want to know what happened here,” she continued. “Spread out and learn what you can learn.”

As for her and her small team, they made made climb upwards to the bridge as turbolifts … of course … were out.
An hour later, they knew enough to say …

• The crew had been forced to eject the core.
• Sparhawk was operating on heavily depleted battery reserves.
• Impulse engines had been damaged in their cruise through the Straits and then burned out completely while attempting to hold station above the closest (one too close) blackhole.
• Sensors had detected a network of superstructures or stations or arrays surrounding that blackhole.
• Said blackhole was slowly pulling the Sparhawk backwards. At least until …
• Said blackhole suddenly vanished … disappeared … was now gone from their reality.
• In the absence of interference of said black hole, sensors had found something else.

And it was that something else that Shallana and her science officer were sifting through at the moment.

“I’ve seen this before,” Shallana told the Orion suddenly. “Or at least something similar.”

Jinesleis seemed skeptical, raising an eyebrow in an almost Vulcan … or actually … more Romulan manner.

“It’s a stargate,” Shallana answered.

“Stargate?” Jinesleis asked, scanning back through the data and slowing starting to see the edges of what the Captain might be talking about.

After a moment, she locked eyes with her superior.

“Stargate = gateway,” Jinesleis noted. “WHERE does this gateway lead?”

“THAT … is the question,” Shallana said. “And I’m betting THIS is what the Sparhawk’s captain was talking about.”

Although they had found the captain’s log entries, they had been corrupted and only portions recoverable.

In one of those recovered segments they’d learned the ship and crew had gone somewhere … else.

But nothing recoverable pointed the way.

At least until now.

“We’ve no idea what’s on the other side except wherever it is, this ship’s crew felt able to abandon ship for better refuge elsewhere,” Jinesleis said.

“And that ‘elsewhere’ is where we need to go,” Shallana said.

“All we have to do is find someway to gain forward momentum to get us back through that gateway before that blackhole comes back,” she continued.

“You sure it’s coming back?”

“I’d bet my life on it.”

Respectfully,

Capt. Shallana Ironwolf
Acting Commanding Officer
U.S.S. Sparhawk, NCC-71301

—-Out of Story—-

We know now that at least they WERE alive.

The post The Straits: “One Last Ride” appeared first on The Malstrom Expanse.

Ansolon Season 02 / Episode 06
by Alan Tripp

2412

U.S.S. Crazy Horse

Another console blew out to one side of the bridge, punctuating the dark thoughts her crew were feeling in this moment. 

How did she know their dark thoughts? … Because they were her own. 

Capt. Shallana Ironwolf projected calm, cool even if inside she was screaming. 

Every so often sounds of the increasing pressures against the ship’s hull would become more audible in a sound that seemed to echo through the whole of the ship. 

She also would swear her ears would pop in those moments. 

With a sigh, she rose from the command chair and made a  circuit of the bridge, reassuring the various members of her crew manning the various stations. 

Each had tasks to do, even if some of those tasks were designed simply to keep their minds off what was happening to the Crazy Horse and them with it. 

Shallana placed a hand on the shoulder of the communications officer. 

“Anything yet?” she asked softly. 

“Nothing yet, Captain,” the Romulan Starfleet officer noted, an intense look on her face with accents of stress marking the lines of her features here and their. 

Of all the duties being carried out at present, the lieutenant’s was possibly one of the most important. 

It was she who came up with a way to …  maybe … get a message out to Starfleet and … maybe, maybe … deploy a backup message should that one fail. 

Krishyyn was one of the best in the fleet. 

Problems with all of it all was not her skill the lieutenant’s skill but the mounting gravimetric pressures and currents swirling around out there.  

And THAT was excluding the maelstrom that had caught Crazy Horse and was slowly drawing them closer to their … 

But let’s not go through. Not yet and if Shallana had her way … Not ever. 

Squeezing Krishyyn’s shoulder, the Captain moved on in her circuit. 

Reassuring her crew, did something to reassure her own spirit as it was her faith in them that gave her hope they might yet survive this … crushing development. 

30 more minutes til her senior officers met again to offer updates and any fresh ideas on how possibly to survive whatever it was that was holding them. 

Next stop, the science station where Koraq was doing his best cut through the murk and paint a better picture of their surroundings.  

I.K.S. Temptress

It wasn’t an alert or anything like that, so much as a flicker of a reading.

If the Orion tactical officer had not been restless, it was the kind of thing that might have gone completely unnoticed.

‘Most likely background noise,’ Sheryu thought.

An artifact of sound generated by some stellar phenomenon somewhere in the neighborhood, as yet undiscovered.

And if she had not been recalibrating the communication arrays at that exact moment, said background noise likely would have been filtered out automatically.

As it was, whatever it was snagged the Orion’s attention enough that she paused the recalibration and waited a few moments to see if it might appear again.

And then it did.

Again, barely a blip and not something that could be deciphered … at least not yet.

One leg cocked over one arm of the command chair, Capt. Awnya in command of the small but powerful Orion interceptor recognized the change in pheromones coming from her chief tactical officer enough to know something had caught the woman’s interest.

“Sheryu … What cha found?” she asked.

They’d spent three weeks surveying this region of what the Malstrom Expanse — a region the Federation called “Hell’s Gate.”

“Not sure.”

Sheryu’s fingers danced over the tactical console trying unsuccessfully amplify the signal.

“But it’s something,” she continued. “Just not sure what.”

Respectfully, 

Capt. Shallana Ironwolf
CO, U.S.S. Crazy Horse

and

Capt. Awnya
CO, I.K.S. Temptress

The post The Straits: “Calls from the Depths” appeared first on The Malstrom Expanse.

2412

Starbase Ansolon

A cloud of dust churned from the hooves of charging horses filled the air, partially obscuring the two opponents. 

A resounding crashing sound revealed to be the Black Knight of Ansolon’s lance hitting dead center of his opponents chest, lifting him out of the saddle and sending the other knight crashing into the dirt floor of lists. 

Ka’nej Hauk lifted the remains of his lance to the roar of a crowd roaring with approval. 

He would advance to the next stage of the tournament. 

 Even as he turned to see who his next opponent would be only to see his personal assistant racing into the stadium, heading his way. 

The Klingon warrior knight removed his helmet, handing it to his squire before swinging his leg over the saddle and dropping to the ground. 

He patted the flanks of his horse – a real horse, not holographic. 

He’d named the creature “Stormy Knight” … or “Storm” for short. 

“Admiral! … Admiral!” 

Hauk turned to face his personal assistant.

“Commander, you know I’m not to be interrupted during competition.” 

The Romulan Starfleet officer fought a moment to catch her breath, knowing this would be his response and so unphased.  

“I know you’d want to know, Admiral.” Sharyna huffed a couple more times, hands to her knees. 

It was a long way from the fleet administration offices to Starbase Ansolon’s promenade.

“The Crazy Horse has missed her last three check-ins” she continued. “And failed to show for her rendezvous with the Highlander.”

This caught his attention. 

Removing his gaultlets, he motioned to his squire to take Storm’s reigns even as he turned to his herald. 

“Have my name removed from the list,” he ordered already turning to leave the arena. 

“You’re forfeiting … NOW??? My Lord … It’s the semifinals!” 

“Do it,” Hauk ordered. 

As the herald ran across the field, Hauk was handing over pieces of equipment. 

A collective gasp echoed across the stadium as realization struck as the crowd watched black cloth being draped over Hauk’s shield and the Black Knight striding out of the stadium. 

– 

Caledon Station — U.S.S. Kusanagi-no-Tsurugi

“Admiral, I protest this wreckless move!” 

The Fleet Admiral sighed wishing the turbolift would move faster. 

“For the fifth time, Jenkins … This is NOT wreckless,” Ka’nej Hauk said. 

“One of our starships is missing.  This ship is best suited to lead the search … So it’s NOT wreckless,” he continued. 

If they were down at the renaissance faire on the Ansolon’s promenade, the Klingon would likely have foregone Starfleet protocol and simply had the engineer who commanded Caledon Station tossed in the stocks. 

Heck, he might have even sprang for the veggies for the crowd to throw at him as THIS was getting exasperating. 

As he took a deep breath to calm and center himself, the lift finally reached its destination. 

Hauk stepped off the lift but turned to block the engineer from following. 

“Look, Jenkins. The ship is scheduled for her commissioning ceremony next week and I plan to have her back in plenty of time for it,” he said. “No scratches … I promise.” 

“Admiral, that’s not it.  This ship still has to go through trials between now and then,” Jenkins retorted. “She’s just not ready.” 

“Son, I was an engineer when you were still in diapers and have built many ships along the way,” Hauk returned.

“Trust me when I say she’s ready,” the Klingon continued. “And whatever ‘trials’ are still needed, we will perform along the way.” 

The admiral turned to his assistant who’d been waiting for them. 

“Sherryna, please escort Mr. Jenkins OFF my ship, please.” 

“With pleasure, Admiral,” she answered, stepping forward to take his position and stepping onto the lift in a manner that blocked all egress for the frustrated and still sputtering shipyard engineer. 

Only when the lift doors closed, did Hauk release the pinned up breath he’d been holding. 

Sure, it was a risk taking this ship out, but this was one of the few larger ships built  specifically for navigating in the harshness of the Malstrom Expanse. 

It’s what made her the perfect flagship for the Admiral. 

The Excalibur name had already been claimed, so they’d settled on Mythos for this new girl. 

And she was his. He would head up Ansolon Command from HERE. 

This ship was going to serve as a ship of the line. 

It was one of the conditions Starfleet Command agreed to when they cornered Hauk into returning to a flag position. 

But that’s a story for another time. 

“Commander Astylap,” Hauk said, stepping down into the command well. “Make sure remaining crew are aboard within the next ten minutes or they’re being left behind.” 

Ratal Astylaph’s antennae both raised above her head, one twitching slightly. 

“On it, Admiral.” 

Ka’nej Hauk settled down into the ship’s centerseat for the first time, shifting around until he settled on the most comfortable position. 

His fingers drummed the command chair. 

The U.S.S. Kusanagi-no-Tsurugi was an experimental redesign of the Ross-class exploration cruiser and so one of the Galaxy line. … Well, originally if the Galaxy and Sovereign had a baby it would be the Ross.

But in this case, she held various upgrades common in the Garrett-class and other tech from the Lexington-variant of the Odyssey line. 

Above all, however … Just as the original U.S.S. Ross had been perfected for operations within the Shackleton Expanse, the Mythos was geared to slice through whatever the Malstrom might throw at it. 

And THAT was exactly what the Klingon feared would be needed. 

“Don’t worry, Shallana,” he muttered under his breath. “We’re coming for you.” 

Respectfully, 

FAdm. Ka’nej Hauk 
Commander, Ansolon Command

—- OUT OF STORY —-

This marks the REAL start of season two of Star Trek Ansolon …. aka. “The Straits.”

It will be interesting to see where this all leads.

The post The Straits: “One Goes Missing” appeared first on The Malstrom Expanse.