By Alan Tripp

Scene: Main Bridge, U.S.S. Excalibur

Consoles exploded, bridge crew lay dying while others fought to either keep the key stations manned or fought to save those dying or to extinguish the flames. 

VADM Ka’nej Hauk’s eyes drifted by a moment to the severed head of the borg drone that lay in the middle of the command well, just feet from the centerseat. 

They had been boarded, crew assimilated, and the ship suffered massive damage with one nacelle already a trail of space debris trailing away in their wake. 

But that was only one moment in time … a tiny glimpse of the grand battle playing out before them. 

And even though Klingon to his fingertips, Hauk was sick of battle.  

His warriors heart had cooled with the loss of too many of those under his command … the loss of too many of his friends. 

Punctuating that thought, the tactical console exploded behind him, showering him with a rain of sparks. 

But Hauk ignored the pain, choosing instead to concentrate on the present moment and how to survive to see the next and the next ones thereafter. 

After a final runthrough of the incoming data stream of the battle surrounding them and status of the Starfleet vessels and their allies, the gruff warrior’s fingers danced across his small tactical console. 

He transmitted final destination commands to the various surviving transporter rooms and cargo bays equipped with operating transporter pads.  

As he rose from his chair, he opened the shipwide comm even as his other hand reached for the hilt of his bloodied sword. 

After all, when fighting the Borg, a good sword cut through their personal shields like butter. 

“All hands, grab your weapons and abandon ship,” he ordered. 

“I repeat, abandon ship,” he continued. “The Excalibur is lost but we can still help our comrades on those other ships by continuing our fight by their side.” 

“Report to transporter rooms, shuttle bays and shuttle pods,” he ordered.”Whatever is closest, but get your asses off this ship posthaste.” 

The channel closed as he kicked the head out of the way. 

“Helm … Set course that large tactical cube forward-starboard, set the autopilot and then come with me.”  

Mere minutes later, the bridge of the Excalibur faded from view as the bridge’s emergency transporter systems beamed what was left of the bridge crew away. 

Another smaller bridge faded into view as they rematerialized. 

Hauk took a deep breath, thankful they had been correct in their assessment. 

A breach along the aft half of the bridge dome cost the Excelsior II-class cruiser it’s command crew who were sucked out into space along with Borg attackers hellbent on assimilation. 

The forcefield had clicked on seconds too late to save the crew, allowing needed air to fill the command center even if the command crew were long gone. 

“Everyone to their stations and give me a situation report,” Hauk ordered. 

He moved down into the command well, settling quickly into the new centerseat  … clicking an open ship’s channel as he did so. 

“This is Vice-Admiral Ka’nej Hauk. … I’m sorry to report Capt. Richards and bridge crew are no more, so I’m assuming direct command over the Timber Wolf. All departments report in to the bridge as to status and combat readiness.” 

As the channel closed, he noted a shadow passing underneath, forming into the familiar form of the massive hull of the shattered U.S.S. Excalibur. 

Her path collided with a pair of Borg spheres, yet she kept going. 

And then an explosion. 

Excalibur pierced the tactical command cube like blade thrust into a body. 

Her dual warp cores went critical, taking the cube with it in a blinding flash. 

“She was a good ship,” Hauk whispered to himself, surprised a tear was welling up in the corners of his eyes.

But he shook that off. Time for it later.

The spreading explosive waves and debris spread quickly outward, consuming remaining Borg vessels in the process. 

Today was a good day to live. 

The warrior flipped open a channel to the fleet. 

“This is VAdm. Hauk,” he stated. 

“I’ve transferred my command and flag to the Timber Wolf and will be coordinating from here. All ships rally to us as able and let’s make the final push to send these bastards back to the hell that spawned them.” 

Respectfully, 

–Alan Tripp

Aka. “Ka’nej Hauk”  

—OUT OF STORY—

Thus ends an era from the past as the flagship of SF Harbour Command goes up in a blaze of glory.

Excalibur was a ship very dear to my heart. May she rest in peace.

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by Alan Tripp (aka. Kanej Hauk)

In a reality far, far away

Vice Admiral Ka’nej Hauk crossed the threshold into the U.S.S. Excalibur’s Strategic Operations Center and kept going.

The Excalibur served as flagship of Starfleet’s Harbour Command.

Hauk paused in his journey as he passed the massive holographic display, stopping his feet treads only long enough to download the latest sensor readings onto his personal padd and then kept going. 

Across the room, two guards snapped to attention as he gave both a nod and crossed the threshold into the conference room. 

Several faces turned in his direction with each threatening to rise to their feet. 

“You know we’re not standing on formalities today,” the Klingon grumbled.

He motioned them to remain seated as he found his own along the circumference of the round table. 

Settling in, his eyes sought out first those of his Romulan wife, Valarys (his Juliet … as the Shakespearan story would have it), and then their daughter, Bahni’qin (or as the humans called her … “Bonnie-kin”) – both captains whose ships were responding to the crisis that seemed destined to re-unite them. 

And then there were his grandchildren … Arthyrra and Ulvyyr Sollace.

The Admiral’s daughter happened to have married another Starfleet officer … one Capt. Alan Sollace.

The pair had done things backwards in that they had their children and then a decade later (after an on again, off again relationship) had chosen to marry.

Sollace was due to arrive soon, but was not yet in the room.

But looking at his family all gathered among the others in the same room was a bright spot in what could be yet another looming disaster. 

He himself had been leading a small detachment of starships scouting out the location for a new starbase when it had been detected. … They’d just happened to be ships scattered at various surrounding points that had been within range to respond. 

 He allowed his eyes to linger but a heartbeat longer on his family before the flicker of their holographic projections via holo-communications reminded him of their still distance from one another and just why they were here. 

So his eyes shifted to scan all gathered. 

“As you know, we were scouting out a location for the proposed Marrakesh Station when the U.S.S. Highlander detected a spatial anomaly in search grid 35787,” he began.  

“As captain of that ship, Capt. Shallana Ironwolf is likely best to fill us in on what they found,” he continued. 

“Shallana, if you please.”

Shallana tapped her padd causing graphics to appear at the center table for all to see. 

What appeared was a massive rift in space that seemed more like a pool of energy had been simply poured into the weightlessness of the void and left to float. 

Rather peaceful if you ignored the random spikes of what could best be explained as “lightning” that would strike out like a thunderstorm building and growing steadily worse. 

Just looking at it conjured images of a massive hurricane threatening to unleash untold fury upon a developed coastline. 

 “From what we have been able to tell, this anomaly is a temporal rift that seems to cut through space, time and realities … all,” she stated. “Sending the specifics to each of you now.” 

“Do we know the point of origin?”

Shallana recognized the voice, it was Alan Sollace of the U.S.S. Beowulf. 

“Sorry, Alan. That is something that was beyond our sensors to detect,” Shallana answered. 

“All we know is that this thing is growing at a steady rate and although relatively isolated at the moment, it likely won’t stay that way.” 

“Which is why we’re gathering all of you,” the Vice Admiral added. 

“Indeed,” Shallana stated. “It was actually Capt. Ahlyya of the Seidr and her team that came up with a possible solution.” 

All eyes turned to the Starfleet Romulan captain, who seemed to be wearing a pair of sunglasses.

Ahlyya leaned forward, setting her padd on the table before her. 

Legally blind, those same glasses allowed her to see properly. 

In fact, they offered the scientist turned starship captain a digital readout and direct interface with computer systems as connected via her padd. 

“It is our belief that with enough starships, we can position ourselves at spaced intervals around the anomaly and generate resonance beams from our deflectors, striking as one with enough umph to force the edges of the tear back together and stitch it closed like a doctor handling a bad cut,” she explained. 

“And what if this thing ends up being to large to force closed and ‘stitch?,’” asked Capt. Draqarys of the U.S.S. Thalesia.  

“That would be why we’re all taxing our warp drives at the moment,” Ahlyya returned. 

“Questions?” the Admiral asked. 

“Wait a minute, isn’t this the location of that recently discovered stargate?” Alan asked. 

“I see someone has been reading their morning briefings,” Hauk said with a slight smile. 

“Yes, it is … and before you ask … We’ve no idea how this will affect the gate network. 

In his mind’s eye, however, Hauk had fears of a ripple effect all along that same network. 

But to what effect? 

—- Out of Story —-

Through this, we see one end of its reach but not the origin.

THAT story is coming.

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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.”

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