A Walk Around the Block

Posted on 16 Aug 2020 @ 11:13am by Lieutenant Commander Gemma Alexander & Ensign Aurilia Moretti & Holographic Assistance and Support Avatar HASA
Edited on on 29 Aug 2020 @ 8:28am

2,884 words; about a 14 minute read

Mission: Ghosts
Timeline: MD 4 || 1200 hours
Tags:

The Nebula was beautiful with its multiple colors strewn everywhere as the Alpha Flight part of the Squadron flew it’s patrol route. Enough distance to give them a fair perimeter but close enough to pull in to the ship at need. In teams of three, each lead and their two wingmen, Alpha flew careful patrol routes above, below and otherwise around the USS Black Hawk.

Their systems updating constantly as they navigated and adjusted for navigational threats like gravity sheers that were akin to the riptides of water based oceans in their effect for as beautiful as it was, it could also be dangerous. The scans being sent to the Flight Center, accessible by the Bridge at any time. The Personnel in the Flight Center hunched over consoles that monitored and supported many different functions of the mission. Areas like medical, coms, engineering all had multiple pairs of eyes backing up the pilots and their gunners their mood calm but alert.

Archer noted the interesting details coming on sensors but tried not to focus too hard on any one thing. It was easy “to miss the forest for the trees” As her mom would say as. Her gunner, kept an eye on possible threats and the Bridge had found as she flew her route, weapons powered down but could be made ready quickly per the patrol protocol.

“Alpha check in.” She called over the Squadrons Comms.

Aurilia had launched with her partner, who had the handle Cobalt and flew the assigned pattern in her Gryphon fighter. "All's five by five, Archer," she called out as she checked her consoles and sensors.

Clark had to get used to having a back-seater with him. He hadn't had one for the times he'd flown this fighter and it was about to show. All his job consisted of was to fly, sort of. Having launched with his wingman, he called out on the comm, "Roger that, Arch. Ready, willing, and waiting to fly babysit."

Other pilots reported in as routine demanded.

Cowboy leaned back in his chair as he flew the route, "On task Archer." He reported, "Hey if we have suits think we could build some surf hover boards, ride some of these eddies?"

"You'd get torn apart genius." Boomer, his gunner, replied over coms as well.

Clark shook his head and smiled. He could see this conversation making it's way to the holodeck where it would be safer. "Bandit to Archer, is our patrol supposed to take in the derelict or are we just keeping an eye on mama Hawk?"

It took Archer a moment to answer as her craft caught the outer edge of a disturbance and did a little controlled shimmy as she adjusted, "Archer to Bandit, we focus on the Hawk but we keep a weather eye on the Shan." It disappeared early in the Consortium Conflict and there's no knowing whats on board. Ghost ships could carry some dangerous baggage. "The Hub..." a nickname for the Squadrons Flight Operations Center. "reports we've got an away team over there as well so we should be ready to support the Hawk's chicks if needs be."

"Understood," said Clark. "Mulit-tasking at it's best." He took into account the Commander's response and adjusted this patrol path accordingly.

Aurila and her partner swep around the ship and stayed steady on their path before she opened a comm to Archer. "All's clear on the port," she called.

"Acknowledged, Tango. Keep alert. Might as well do a round robin, all teams sound off. All clear on Starboard."

"All clear in the red light district..." Sang Wrench and Cowboy laughed. Archer sternly replied, "I have told you not to call the bottom of the ship that." hiding her own grin. "Aye Ma'am." came the voice more polite but stifling a laugh.

"Upside side clear." Said Cowboy and others reported in their all clears. Patrol could be slow but she didn't mind, least no one was shooting at them yet.

"Copy that, Archer," Aurilia responded as she headed back around the ship once more with her wingman.

Archer and her wings looped around, for another pass.

Aurilia yawned in her cockpit and looked over the sensors. "Nothing new, nothing blue and nothing to do," she muttered and leaned back as far as she could.


===Flight Operations Center===

In the Flight Operations Center for the squadron, personnel continued to monitor all the different systems. Engineering sub divided into engines, coms, weapons, life support while medical kept an eye on their vitals as the pilots made their circuits. Data flowed into the center from the Black Hawks sensors as well as the pilots, continuously updating the information of the surrounding space, sharing it with the Bridge. Rows of consoles, each devoted to it's own aspect was monitored by a trained operator overseen by an Air Boss, who currently was reading a PADD as the room hummed along it's business.

"How goes the patrol?" Dhred asked the Air Boss. Prep was essential, but there wasn't anything extra the Andorian pilot could do at the moment. Alpha Flight was running the first shift in the nebula, which meant Dhred had little to do but sit around and wait until Bravo Flight would relieve them... if they indeed remained in the nebula long enough to warrant it. "Has Alpha kicked up anything interesting?"

A stocky man who looked a bit old for his officer rank, as he'd been a former Chief Petty Officer and had come up that way, glanced up and replied to the pilot. "Quiet so far, just weaving around the ebb and flow of the nebula." He said in his typical few words.

The junior officer that was monitoring the fighter's engines turned around. "Boss, I know everything is smaller in the Gryphon's, but I'm registering a slight deviation in the matter/antimatter reaction. Unless of course the computer is fritzing again."

At the word 'computer', HASA appeared standing next to Dred...as a Brazilian swimsuit model wearing a bikini the same shade of red as a command uniform and black trim. "The computer is not fritzing, Ensign," she said with a gentle hint of an accent. "The deviation is well within tolerances. Now, how may be of service?"

"Oh, mama!" Dhred exclaimed, his eyes wide in surprise. "I don't know what you fellas did to the computer, but I like it!"

The Air Boss's eyebrows went up briefly in appreciation, The Commander wouldn't like whomever reprogrammed the HASA but he'd deal with that in a minute. Right now he went to the station and looked over the the engineer's shoulder, "Stand by." He told the HASA, not used to working with it he instinctively gave a hold order while he went to see what the problem was. "Whose engines?" he directed this at the officer on station.

The Ensign ran the information again and wrinkled his nose. "I've doubled checked and it doesn't make any sense, but...all of them."

The bikini-clad hologram brushed Dhred as she moved from his side nearer the console. HASA already knew what they were looking at and didn't bother to check. But since the fighter's computer was linked in several ways to the ship's.... The Ensign's console shifted from monitoring the engines to an engine diagnostic screen while at the same time the computer was heard onboard all of the fighters. "Gryphon engines are experiencing a variance in the matter/antimatter reaction of the warp core. System has been taken off-line while Flight Ops is performing a remote Level One Diagnostic."

The Ensign shot a surprised look at the Air Boss and the other pilot with him. "I swear I did not do that!"

"I wasn't complaining!" Dhred exclaimed with a snort. "But, uh, maybe I should prep Bravo Flight to scramble if Alpha's having a total SNAG?"

The Air Boss frowned but reacted quickly, "Inform Alpha Flight whats going on." Snapping a glance at the HASA then Dhred, "Bravo is a go for standby but triple check all systems." He told the eager pilot before returning his attention to the HASA, glaring.

"Copy that." Dhred turned on his heel and marched back to the flight deck. He could be heard talking into his combadge as he left. "Lovecraft to Bravo Flight. We are green for stand by. Keep your engines hot and disregard any orders from a half-naked hologram..."

"Inforn the engineer squad and the Bridge." The Air Boss snapped to a comms officer as the activity in the Flight Center picked up with personnel rushing about. The Ensign bent to his task and the Air Boss returned his attention to the HASA and situation to hand, "HASA dismissed." He said figuring its continued presence would complicate matters. "Can you return their functions to them? Determine actual issue?" He asked the engineering ensign.

HASA disappeared as she had been 'dismissed.'

"Negative," came the Engineer's answer. "A Level One diagnostic requires the associated system to be taken off-line. In this case, the engines and the warp core. We're looking at a three-and-a-half to four hour wait while the diagnostic runs. Normally, it wouldn't be an issue as it would have been done in a maintenance bay." The Center's communication system beeped to life again, but with an incoming call. The beep was followed by static and then nothing. "And in case you're about to ask, I have no idea what that was about. Computer, what's the problem with communications? Why in the world are we getting static?"

Once again, HASA appeared. The hologram looked the same, except for a large white beach towel wrapped around her body. "The nebula is interfering with ship-to-ship communications." The room also started getting hotter, by about ten degrees Celsius every few seconds.

He wiped his forehead, calling to another officer, "If Bravo's systems are solid tell them they are to prep for launch." He turned to the HASA, "You need to drop the temp in here to standard levels, now." He said quite unhappy.

HASA ignored the order, dropped her towel, and disappeared. But the room had gotten ten degrees hotter, from twenty-one degrees Celsius to thirty-one degrees Celsius, in that amount of time...and continued to climb. In another five minutes, the temperature would be fifty-six Celsius. One had to wonder how much the consoles in the Flight Operations Center could take. Or the people working at them.

"Son of a" He started to curse then changed direction, "skeletal crew remain, rest of you abandon Flight!" He yelled, "Prep secondary Flight Post!" Most everyone immediately got up and made for the door, " You call damage control" He pointed to an officer who nodded. "Engineering see if you can do something about this..." One of the engineers grabbed a kit and headed for the related console in the back of the room. "You have two minutes, then we bail." He said, wiping at his forehead, "And get Bravo Flight in the Air asap!"

The last communications went out to launch Bravo Flight immediately and notify damage control. But that was it. Internal sensors picked up that most of the staff had left the Flight Operations Center. Only most. A gray, genderless figure appeared as the holoprojectors activated. The nameless entity turned to see the ones left. A test. The hologram flickered and took the appearance of the ship's Executive Officer. "Computer, seal all doors and access points to the Flight Operations Center to include shafts, tunnels, and tubes. Erect level one forcefields around all aforementioned doors and access points." All the doors to corridors and turbolifts shut and then sealed. All Jeffries Tubes, access tunnels, and shafts that had doors were sealed. Level one forcefields immediately went up around all of the entrances. "Computer, increase temperature by twenty degrees Celsius every sixty seconds and implement Command lockout. Authorization, Walsh-Sierra-Golf-One-Niner-Alpha." The computer beeped compliantly and immediately increased the temperature while authorizing the Command lockout. The image of Terry Walsh faded and was replaced by the gray, genderless image from earlier. HASA now had control of the Center.

The Air Boss gave it up at that point and attempted to site to site transport the remaining Flight team out of the Flight Center.

HASA watched as the shimmering blue light engulfed the remaining occupants. The transporter was something that had not been planned for. A new pathway was created with the programming to investigate the transporter.


===Space===

The silence of a routine and boring patrol was broken by the computer's announcement over the Squadron's comms. "Gryphon engines are experiencing a variance in the matter/antimatter reaction of the warp core. System has been taken off-line while Flight Ops is performing a remote Level One Diagnostic."

Ensign Robert's fighter immediately started slowing down and coasting on the last trajectory input after he heard the computer announcement from the Flight Ops Center. Why the computer made the announcement was beyond him, but it happened. He shook his head and activated the comm to the squadron. "Ensign Roberts here, slowing to all stop and have limited function of several systems. Commander, orders?"

Flight, an actual crewmember this time, informed them what had just happened.

Gemma noticed her own fighter slowing down as indeed they all were, She quickly considered options, "Return to the nest." She replied unwilling to be stuck out here forcing the BK to haul them in if they couldn't get this going, "If you can't try to get as close as safety permits to the Hawk. Everyone check systems, confirm your status and report."

"How can an entire squadron be having engine trouble all at once?" Cowboy wondered aloud over the comms as he adjusted his flight path.

"Makes no sense to me" replied Wingnut as he did the same.

"Uh, getting back to the ship is going to be a problem without engines, Commander," replied Roberts. "The voice said that Gryphon's system had been taken off-line and a level one diagnostic was being run due to warp core variances. I can confirm that the warp core is off-line as are the engines. And from the looks of the indicators on my screen, dead in space is about to take on a new meaning." A smirk crossed his lips as a rather smartass remark surfaced. "I suppose I could use the emergency beam out into space and swim to the Black Hawk. I was a pretty good swimmer in Academy. Just need some relaxing music for accompaniment. A backstroke might be in store."

"Aye I got it Roberts, was hoping to at least get as close as we can." She was not pleased as the Squadron was coasting to a slow stop as they had tried to make for the Black Hawk. "And no let's hold on off the Swimming for now but we'll keep that in the back pocket. Likely as not their scrambling support now, just keep an eye on systems and sensors."

"Roger, roger," came Clark's answer. "Keeping a watchful eye on systems."

Then Archer opened a comm channel to Flight Ops. "This is Archer to Flight. We're returning to base unless you got some good news?"

Sadly and oddly, the communication to Flight Ops resulted in nothing but static on their end and no reply to the Squadron Commander.

"That's a negative, Archer," Aurilia and her wingman responded. "Going in."

"Tango, confirmed. Get as far as you can." Archer replied, frowning as the level 1 diagnostic ran on. "Squadron all call. For anyone who missed the memo, we've lost the Black Hawk on coms but they know we're in trouble. We are going to do our best to go to basic station keeping if we can't nest." Taking up stationary positions as close to the Black Hawk as they could, trying to be close but not too close considering.

For Cowboy he was going along, unable to affect his speed but able to navigate, at least until he ran out of momentum. It was a bit like riding an old sled. You could move from side to side to avoid the tree but you were at the mercy of outside forces until you stopped.

No engine, no warp core, and no comms with the ship. This is great! Aurilia thought as she worked on maneuvering her fighter on a slow intercept course with the ship with the last of her power.

Archer, wondering what the heck was going on continued to nurse her craft back toward the ship as the other pilots followed.

The Gryphons attached to Bravo Flight had been ready. And now they were using both sets of bay doors to get out. The fighters came equipped with a low powered tractor beam that would help in towing Alpha Flight back in. "Bravo Leader here," he said over his comm, "I know you're not going to like it, but we can tow you back in."

Archer replied, "Beggers can't be choosers, Bravo Flight. Appreciate help." Annoyed over the engine issue but glad to see them. Then to Alpha squadron, "Alpha Flight stand by, our rides here."

"Roger that," came Clark's reply. There wasn't much to do other than sit and wait. And maybe think about that hottie in Science. Yeah, there was that.

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