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SD241812.27 - Joint Duty Log - CAG (NPC) & Hawkins - "Scramble"

Posted on Sun Jan 27th, 2019 @ 5:11pm by Lieutenant Yarinna "Fanthom" Hawkins & Brigadier General Jonathan Grey

1,407 words; about a 7 minute read

Mission: The Sincerest Form of Flattery
Location: Versailles
Timeline: Current

=^= Flight Control Centre =^=

Lieutenant Commander Grak ran into the FCC, and dug his heels into the carpet to avoid slamming into an Ensign. The two officers twisted sideways to pass each other, and the moment passed without incident.

"Report!" Grak barked, addressing the room. One Lieutenant opened his mouth to speak, but was quickly drowned out by the voice of an Ensign staring at her console.

"Sir, orders coming through!" she declared, eyes darting from side to side as she absorbed the information on her screen." "By order of the General; scramble all active fighter squadrons and take position near the Akira-class support vessels. Do not engage the Klingon Strike Force unless fired upon, or the order is given. Shields hot, weapons warm."

"Warm? What?" said Grak, unfamiliar with the phrase.

"Sorry sir. New vocab list from last night's updates. Warm means 'charged with safeties on'." The Ensign explained, pointing to a summary on a wall monitor nearby. Other terms included "Skernak", "Swing Away", and "Left Filangee".

Deciding to be annoyed about that later, Grak tapped his comm badge.

"Grak to Fighter Bay Announcement Channel."

=^= Fighter Bay 1 =^=

"Attention all Fighter Bays, this is Lieutenant Commander Grak. Scramble! I repeat, scramble! This is not a drill!"

Yarinna dropped the ractijino she was holding, tapped her combadge, "Banshee Squadron....roll out!", she said grabbing Mandy.

"Jesus Yarinna", she said, getting dragged from the replicator, losing her food tray. "What the fu....!! Damn it can't they pick a better time to scramble than dinner?", Mandy said, hot on Yarinnas heels.

"Well sweety, your the one who wanted to lose weight!", Yarinna said, sliding down the short stairs to the fighter deck. "Up you go Mandy, all instructions will be downloaded into the console", she said watching Mandy settle into her seat. Mounting her own fighter she tirned briefly to see all of her Squadron already mounted and ready. Yarinna gave the traditional hand rotation over her head signaling for all ships to light'em up, meaning warm up those engines. Sliding into her seat she brought the engines online, "Banshee leader to all Banshee fighters all instructions will be downloaded to your consoles. Do not deviate from those instructions unless new orders are received. Voice recognition protocols are in place", she said. Now switching coms, "Fighter Bay 1 Control Banshee Squadron ready to rock and roll!", she reported.

"Roger that Banshee Squadron. Your flight path is open, and we are clearing the bay." said the voice over the comm. Green lights lit up along the floor as the doors started to open, blinking in sequence towards the widening gap. Ground crews pushed antigravity pallets away from the fighters and into their holding spots, before leaving the bay entirely. As soon as the last bit of hardware was secured, and the last member of the ground crew had left, the lights switched to red, indicating an active runway.

A shudder ran through the deck as the doors at the end of the hall finished opening, the darkened runway lit up exclusively by the blinking red lights.

"Runway is hot. You are clear to deploy." announced the voice over the comm.

"Thankyou command", Yarinna said. Now speaking into her com, "Alright kiddies, let's boogie! By the numbers take off and form up on me", she said taking her fighter out and into the darkness of open space.

Of course, "open" is a relative term. Like "space".

Around Versailles; there wasn't any.

Vast cargo ships visiting Versailles, for repairs, refuel, or just restocking, were all hugging the station closely. With the Klingons paying the station a visit, anyone whose business didn't allow them to flee was clinging to the station's apron; keeping well within the station's shield perimeter.

Naturally this was playing havok with the station's weapons array. Torpedoes can fire around obstacles, but phaser arrays and pulse phaser banks need line-of-sight to work properly. Careful management of flight plans was mitigating the problem, but it would be a simple task for any enemy to attack through the man-made blind spots.

Cargo haulers weren't the only problem. Spots between these hulking vessels were filled with personnel carriers, damaged Starfleet vessels in for repair, mercenary ships, hospital craft, and more shuttles than you could shake a stick at.

"Holy shit!! Break, break, avoid all ship...friendlies.....Do not fire! Scan first...", Yarinna hollered. "Mandy...find me a hole and fast.....this is a bloody parking lot!", she yelled.

While Mandy was looking for that hole, the rest of Banshee Squadron broke as they exited the station. Yarinna dropped, turned hard right, ducking under two cargo ships, just missing another cargo ship. "Yarinna watch it! You nearly hit.....DUCK! Drop 45 degrees, hard left...!" Mandy yelled. Dropping 45 degrees and rolling hard left, they just missed a galaxy class starship being repaired. "Judas goat, this is crazy nuts....", Yarinna said.

Opening her com link with the Squadron, "Banshee squadron pick your way through the ships carefully. Scan everything and everywhere, there are bound to be unfriendlies within the parking lot. The Klingons, for the moment pose no threat. Maintain your alert status until the CAG says otherwise", she stated. Unable to turn to look at Mandy, "They sure as hell didn't teach us for this crap in the academy. This is a nightmare and if we survive without scratching the paint the drinks are on me", she added. This was what they call 'Flying by the Seat of Your Pants'

Because there weren't enough distractions out here, the comm system in Fanthom's fighter chose that moment to crackle to life. The display next to the little speaker showed a picture of the CAG, with his name and title underneath for good measure.

"Banshee squadron, take up position near the Akira-class starship 'Prince'. Keep your squadron moving, but stay near the Prince. Do not engage the Klingons, and do not get between the Prince and the Klingons. Confirm." barked Grak's gruff voice over the comm, muffled beeps heard down the line as he transmitted a waypoint.

"Banshee Leader confirmed. Moving to USS Prince", Yarinna replied.

"Banshee Squadron, you have the coordinates of the Prince. Orders are to stay near her but not to get between her or the Klingon ships. Do not hover, keep moving and conduct your passive scans. Stay on your toes people. This could get ugly fast. Banshee Leader out", she said and banked her fighter towards the Princes position.

The squadron curved around the ships hugging the station, and made a bee-line for open space. As they passed through the station's shields, a brief blue flash marked the field permitting them to exit. Most shields were designed this way, to allow for outgoing traffic and weapons fire, but the return trip would be a little more complicated; requiring a gap to be opened in the field to allow their ingress.

Ahead of the squadron, the six Akira-class starships stood guard. They were each lit up like Xmas trees, all external lights powered up full. Each one helped mark the curved defensive line; the metaphorical "line in the sand" which the Klingons had been advised not to cross.

The one on the far left was the Prince, glowing in the gloom. The shields were raised, though only sensors could tell, and the weapons systems were unpowered. A fighter could get away with that kind of readiness, but an Akira-class ship charging phasers would be seen as a threat.

Not, it should be said, that the station's defensive craft were much of a threat by themselves. The Klingon fleet was far gloomier by comparison to the glittering Starfleet craft. Negh'var ships dotted the space beyond the Akiras, bulky and intimidating in their lack of any running lights.

Stars regularly vanished as a Klingon vessel changed position, or one of the many cloaked Birds of Prey shimmered into view. Even now, there was no firm data on the size of the Klingon Strike Force facing them, as the modern cloaking devices were proving near-impossible to penetrate. More aggressive scanning would be required, and the General had been unwilling to poke that particular bee hive just yet.

Yarinna was pacing herself as she flew between the Akira class ships but not in the middle of the massive ships as they faced each other. She was not about to start an interstellar incident.

=^= End of Log =^=

Lieutenant Yarinna "Fathom" Hawkins
Squadron Leader
Versailles Station


Lieutenant Commander Grak (NPC Grey)


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