SD242011.14 - Plot Log - "It Begins"
Posted on Sat Nov 14th, 2020 @ 5:18pm by Brigadier General Jonathan Grey
Location: Outside the Versailles black hole's event horizon
=^= USS Ryde =^=
Silence reigned on the bridge of the Ryde; an Akira-class starship floating in the void.
"Ship status?" inquired the Captain, an aging Bolian who had stroked his chin enough to irritate the skin.
"Nominal, sir." replied his tactical officer, a Vulcan woman of less than fifty; barely an adult by Vulcan standards.
"Shield and weapon status?"
"Shields primed, but down. Phasers offline. Torpedoes chambered, but offline. Targeting systems on standby."
"Eta on our colleagues?"
Vulcan eyes flicked down as she consulted the console.
"The Yadallan Regional Defence Fleet was staging point-five light years away. They are en-route, and will arrive in ten minutes. The Federation Border Defence Network is still gathering its forces, and will arrive in an hour or more. Likely less than three hours. Civilian ships will start arriving any moment. And as for the...."
Here, the Vulcan tactical officer trailed off, her attention seized by the beeping coming from her console.
"Ships decloaking, sir."
Outside the Ryde, four sets of shimmers gradually resolved into the unmistakeable outline of four ships.
To the left, a hulking Romulan D'deridex-class cruiser endeavoured to blot out as many stars as possible; its already formidable bulk enhanced by the four large clusters of tow-drones mounted on the sides. Springing free of their mounting points, the clusters divided into clouds of drones that floated silently beside their carrier.
To the right of the Ryde, three Klingon B'rel (Bird of Prey) ships faced the Romulan and Federation ships equally, ever prepared to challenge their ancient enemies.
On the bridge of the Ryde, the Captain opened his mouth to speak, but was beaten to the punch by his tactical officer.
"Captain, the Klingon and Romulan ships are hailing us."
"On screen." replied the Bolian, instantly confronted by a split-view of two bridges. With one green, and one red, it was clear which was which.
"Romulan and Klingon vessels." announced the Captain, trying to keep the tension out of his voice. "I welcome you to Versailles."
"Keep your words." barked a Klingon, who postured on the screen. "I am Captain Larg. General Bok commands that this station be moved. Ready your ships, now!"
"Ah Klingons. Always so fierce." observed the Romulan counterpart on the other side of the screen. Stepping forward into the light, a long-haired Romulan officer smiled in a way that spoke of friendliness, warmth, and many long hours practicing in a mirror.
"I am Commander Pitros, and I accept your welcome. The border patrol ships were very charming as well. I must know how your General engineered such smooth passage for us through your borders."
"Our Romulan friends are always welcome through our borders. As are our Klingon....associates." replied the Bolian.
"Well said, Captain."
"Words." scowled Captain Larg. "Now, if you are done talking, we will now move this station."
"We cannot move the station until the other ships have arrived." explained the Bolian.
"Because we need enough power to move the entire station quickly, to avoid gravimetric shears. Or else the station will be destroyed, and we will have failed. How do Klingons reward failure?" inquired the Bolian, pushing back.
"Hrr." grunted Larg. "We will wait for your ships."
"As will we, Captains." added Pitros, bowing politely as the screens went black.
The Bolian, (whose name, incidentally, was Chot), took a relieved breath in the sudden silence.
"So, it begins."
=^= End of Log =^=
Unnamed D'deridex class ship
Unnamed B'rel (Bird of Prey) class ship