USS LaFayette
Mission 0 -- Drydock
LaFayette Message Header
Mission 0: Drydock
(0 Mission 7 Post 012500 CO)
OFF:
<McAllister>
<<Avalon Fleet Yards>>
<<<A medium sized hanger bay, c. meanwhile>>>
$---Reunion---$
ON:
Commodore McAllister reviewed his orders as he followed the young
ensign who had been assigned as his aide to the hanger bay were
the LaFayette's change of command was to be conducted.
Ensign Antrides held back a curtain, and McAllister walked on
stage, into the dim light of the hanger bay. Several
screens had be set up, and promotional holos were being shown,
describing the virtues of the Akira class, battle footage of some
famous Akira's in action, and a documentary detailing the
LaFayette's refit.
Commander Kriston Jardine, Chief of the Construction Division,
had pulled out all the stops to make the LaFayette's launch a
success, both functionally and promotionally. While
McAllister was not generally fond of media types, he realized his
new job as a battle group commander had an element of public
relations which could not be ignored.
The holos were winding down as he reviewed his what he wanted to
say to the assembled crew members. Most of the officers
gathered were young, many just out of the Academy. Losses
during the Dominion War had required Starfleet assigning
experienced senior officers to ships of their own as they came
available; McAllister was lucky to have gotten many of the
transfers he had requested. The bulk of his crew, however,
were unknown to him.
Unfortunately, that would not be the case with the crew.
McAllister knew that his infamous past had preceded him to his
new command, and the stories and rumors regarding "The
Butcher of the Pale," were circulating. It usually
took a rough-in period for a new crew to adapt to a new commander;
it would take McAllister twice as long to earn his new crew's
trust.
From the podium, Commander Jardine announced, "Gentlemen,
the commanding officer of BattleGroup Alpha, Task Force 17,
Commodore Peter Donald McAllister."
McAllister rose and approached the podium, steeling himself for
is brief talk. He was not found of public appearances
either.
"Thank you, Commander," he began. McAllister
gazed out at the assembled, noting with interest the various
different races, and again inwardly shuddering at the average age
of the crew. Making a note to adjust his training schedule
upwards a notch or two, he cleared his throat and continued.
"Attention to Orders: Pursuant to the authority
invested in me by Fleet Admiral Bremer, Commanding Officer, Bravo
Fleet, I do hereby invite and command Peter Donald McAllister,
Commodore, Task Force 17, to assume command of BattleGroup Alpha
of said Task Force, and her flagship, the USS LaFayette.
Signed: Rear Admiral Flynn Taggart, Commander in Chief, Task
Force 17."
Turning to Commander Jardine, McAllister unexpectedly followed in
old naval tradition. Coming to attention, he said, "I
relieve you, sir."
Commander Jardine either understood naval traditions as well as
McAllister did, or she had read about his adherence to what some
considered to be outmoded protocols and traditions. She
answered as formula dictated, "I stand relieved, sir."
A few senior officers in the crowd realized that the change of
command was effectively over, and began to applaud politely.
Soon a small scattering of applause rippled through the bay, and
McAllister took a sip of water from the glass that had been
provided at the podium.
As the applause died down -- it didn't take long -- McAllister
scanned the room once again for any familiar faces. Finding
none, he sighed inwardly, and proceeded with his opening remarks.
"In the 19/th century, a company strength unit of men from a
military organization known as the French Foreign Legion faced an
overwhelming force of over a thousand men. These soldiers
had orders to hold onto a piece of land which was under attack by
this vastly superior force. The held out against for
several days, without hope of reinforcement. In the end,
only five men were left. These men were out of ammunition,
wounded, had no food or water remaining. Knowing that the
siege was in it's last hours, the enemy commander offered to
accept the Legion's surrender."
McAllister voice grew stronger, and his iron gaze swept the room.
"In reply, the five men from the Legion fixed bayonets, and
charged their enemy."
McAllister paused. "I have taken the liberty of giving
the name 'the Legionnaires' to this BattleGroup. I expect
no less from the crew of the LaFayette, or the ships she will
lead. Our job is to protect Federation interests, to defend
Federation citizens, in short -- to defeat the enemy, whoever
that may be, or die trying. We will not fight for revenge,
we will not fight for glory, but we will fight with honor."
McAllister paused again, noting the alarmed expressions on some
of the crew's faces. Best they know what they're in for now,
thought McAllister.
"The Legionnaires are assigned to DarkStar Operations, the
special forces arm of Bravo Fleet. We are the hammer.
Our sister group, commanded by Commodore Valurian, is the anvil.
Together, we are the elite forces of Bravo Fleet. Our
mission is primarily combat, both overt and covert. Those
of you here today who do not want to someday be called a warrior
should apply for a transfer to another Task Force."
Another sip of water. "I understand there was quite a
party last night in the ship's lounge," continued McAllister
in a much less serious tone. "I hope to meet some of
you there again tonight, at a reception. Then we go to work,
the LaFayette has orders to proceed to Starbase Sentinel, and we
will leave at 0900 hours tomorrow morning."
"Dismissed."
Commander Jardine this time led the applause following McAllister's
remarks, and while a bit louder and a little more sustained, it
somehow lacked the enthusiasm he had hoped for. Well, he
knew he was going to have to prove himself. This just
affirmed it.
"Commodore," said Jardine, "there are some people
wait'n for your overflight of the LaFayette; right this way, sir."
McAllister followed the Commander, falling into step with his
aide. "Well, Mr. Antrides, will you be applying for
one of those transfers?" he asked.
It appeared that the young ensign was already considering the
question. After a pause, he replied, "No, sir. I
believe that there is a need for a strong offensive force;
Starfleet is still recovering from the war effort, and the
Federation still had enemies. But, I'm curious, sir.
You said those five legionnaires 'fixed bayonets and charged' the
enemy positions. I gathered you were alluding to them dying
with honor, but just what is a 'bayonet?'"
McAllister was about to reply when Commander Jardine ushered them
into a travel pod that would take them on an overflight of the
LaFayette prior to docking and an inspection of his new command.
The pod already had three officers waiting.
McAllister grinned. "Ensign, I imagine these at least
two of these gentlemen could describe a bayonet -- and the other
could build you a gross or two." Striding forward with
his hand extended, McAllister joined some specters from his past:
Marine Captain Dyral Lanor, Acting Wing Commander Lessonar, and
Lieutenant Commander Wayne "Biggs" Duke, all formally
of the USS Unicorn, McAllister's previous command.
Although it was apparent that they were all glad to see one
another, the reunion was subdued as many things by necessity had
to remain unspoken. As the group caught up on old times,
the answer to Ensign Antrides questions was forgotten as
Commander Jardine guided the shuttlepod towards the LaFayette.
OFF:
Bringing some secondary characters into the story -- feel free to
post with them, but make sure you get the new positions and ranks
they may be holding correct -- it's all on the crew's pages on
the web site.
Thanks for playing,
P.D. McAllister
Commodore, USS LaFayette
Commanding BG-A/TF17
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Lt. Commander Jukh-Barklakh
USS. LaFayette - Avalon Fleet Yards, docked
$---Thunder over LaFayette---$
ON>>
Bridge:
Lt. Jackson: the harried officer of the deck, is monitoring
shuttle traffic. His board is lit up like a fashion day parade as
cargo and personnel shuttles are in constant rotation. The
general air on the bridge is highly confused. Security is
constantly being called from one location to another and things
keep breaking down in the refitted ship. Even as he watches
another priority signal lights up on his board. The header on the
signal says it is from a private craft requesting Priority
docking instructions immediately. Double checking the ID encoding
he discovers that the craft is the RS Irrelevant carrying Lt.
Commander Jukh-Barklakh the LaFayette's new Chief Engineer and
Starfleet escort Ensign Eeiauoa. It's about time the Chief
Engineer arrived, he thought to himself. He should have been here
during the outfit and redesign. He opens the channel.
"Permission granted Irrelevant, Follow beacon 279 in and
release controls when the landing tractors take hold and welcome
aboard."
Eeiauoa: "Confirmed LaFayette, tracking beacon 279."
Jukh - Barklakh: "Negative! I read your tracking controls as
being .0001 micro's off calibration and your magnetic pulse on
your landing tractors are .03845 micro watts off. I will bring my
ship in under it's own control. That garbage pile you call a ship
is not to be trusted."
Jackson: confused, "Sir, I have been told those are
acceptable tolerances in Starfleet design. You are in no danger.
Relinquish your craft please so we can bring you in."
JukH - Barklakh: sneering, "That may be acceptable
tolerances for suicidal non-engineers, but not for me! I will not
risk my valuable life just because yours is so obviously
considered worthless. Now if you will clear those deathtraps, you
so ignorantly call 'shuttles' from my flight path I will land."
Jackson, activating his combadge: "Jackson to bridge."
R'ynoc: "R'ynoc here what is it Lt.?"
Jackson: "I am having some trouble with the Chief Engineer.
It appears he does not trust our instrumentation and refuses to
allow us to bring him in. He says he will bring his craft aboard
himself."
R'ynoc: "Mr. Jackson, if the Chief Engineer says that you
have an instrument problem, what makes you think your qualified
to tell him you don't? Obviously your instrumentation in this
recently refitted ship is faulty. Now I would suggest you do as
the Chief Engineer requests immediately! I will also remind you
that Lt. Comdr. Jukh-Barklakh is a VIP on his own world with
strong government connections. and holds the Government title of
Master of Engineering on his planet which makes him according to
their law a certifiable genius. I would suggest you treat him
accordingly and stop telling him how to do his job. Do I make
myself clear, MR?"
Jackson: "Yes ma'am!" He cut the link.
The executive officer had not even checked he was sure! Now he
would have to divert all traffic, snarl it up even more just to
let this one small shuttle land. There was no help for it, orders
were orders. What a fragging mess, he thought. He again opened a
channel to Irrelevant. "Very well, Sir you are cleared to
bring your ship on board however you decide is fit. All traffic
has been cleared."
Jukh - Barklakh: "Of course it has, I have eyes, moronic one.
I am already on my way in. The swine give me nothing to work with,
they should be honored that I grace this glorified Grakhs Pen
with my illustrious presence! You will have several slaves or
servants standing by when I land to convey by bags to my
stateroom. All engineering staff will immediately meet with me
after I am satisfied that my living quarters are safe. I have
many bad words to say to them about their sloppy work. Irrelevant
out!"
Jackson: angrily cuts the channel, " All Engineering Staff,
report to the Shuttle Bay at once. The Chief Engineer wants to
talk to you."
OFF>>
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off:
My first post, so be gentle with me folks <chuckles>
ON:
She tugged at the hem of her tunic once to straighten it, even
though the knife edge creases, pristine stretch of fabric across
her shoulders and teeth clenching precision of dress did
absolutely nothing to hide the fact that she would in no way,
shape of form ever be taken for a male of any species whatsoever.
"Ten HUT!" The rich contralto rolled like purring
thunder through the area. "Fall in. Attention to orders: you
are to make with all due haste to the docking bay, there to meet
with me and check in with your direct superiors and await further
orders from them, unless you have already received your orders.
You are then to expedite your orders as soon as you check in with
your direct superior. Company DISmissed!"
Not everyone had forgotten the old ways, not by a long shot.
She watched the young pups with probably much the same attitude
as her captain: a shudder or two, running the numbers through her
head about how many would be dead by points x, y and z in time
and for waht causes. There... there was a dewy eyed human, pale
and soft. And there was a young Vulcan, ramrod straight and
deliberately avoiding her eyes, indeed avoiding the very air she
exhaled.
She smiled grimly, did R'ynoc.
Babies. Greenhorns.
She grinned and a private passing her blushed, thinking she was
smiling at him. She too had a reputation, but not as a butcher.
At least training them wasn't going to be
HER problem!
OFF:
whew! Guess I am not a virgin any longer, hmm? <chuckles>
Commander R'ynoc, Executive Officer, USS LaFayette
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