Restless In The Nebula

Posted on 09 Jul 2016 @ 2:00am by Commodore Harvey Geisler

550 words; about a 3 minute read

Mission: Risky Business
Location: Ready Room
Timeline: MD5 || 1100 hours

Just over one day had passed since arriving at the Hadyn Nebula. As predicted, sensors and shields were non-functional. The Black Hawk was now traversing at one-half impulse, taking a carefully crafted course inside the nebula. Harvey stood in his Ready Room, staring out the forward viewport at the mixtures of purples and blues. The nebula was certainly dense, but not dense enough to miss the Valkyrie fighter ahead of the ship. Commander Walsh had been true to his word, keeping the squadron on rotation, one flight at a time. So far, they hadn't found anything other than the occasional pile of space garbage.

Buried in the nebula, Commander Casey had planted twenty probes. All twenty had begun reporting instantly, but six had stopped within five minutes of launch. Three more failed hours later. All nine failures were in different sections of the nebula, providing anything but conclusive insight. The Black Hawk was left to slowly push forward in hopes of spotting anything remotely like the Chimera, Cochrane or a Romulan Valdore.

Yet, as Harvey stood at the window, he felt more nervous than ever. He didn't expect to be ambushed or surprised. Neither Consortium vessel knew they were coming. He knew the Black Hawk would surprise them. But, the longer they were searching, the better chance the Chimera and Cochrane would have in finding the Valdore first. And, the longer it was in their possession, the more likely the thalaron weapon would be extracted or brought back to full operation.

Harvey shook his head before taking a sip of his cold coffee, still in hand from his morning inspection. Damn rumors, he thought. Why did this whole thing have to be predicated on a single rumor. He'd rather be back at Unity, helping prepare a response to the situation on Gavara, or go tracking down fellow Starfleet vessels to boost their numbers.

Hell, he'd even be willing to take on Commodore Terlexa and Deep Space 11 all on his own.

But, to chase down a myth...

Harvey sighed. The Black Hawk was no Sovereign. No Galaxy. She was an Akira, a war hero. A ship who once again had her soul and a fire to test it in. Though Harvey was nervous, he felt the ship's hunger for glory, happy to be yet again on the front lines.

"I don't know how you do it," Harvey muttered, talking to the old girl. He raised his free hand and placed it against the bulkhead. He could almost feel the vibration in the deck plates from the engines and the deflector's attempts to keep the dust particles from the nebula from bouncing off the ship's hull.

What he could do was relate to the ship. Like him, the Black Hawk had been a lost soul, reawakened at long last and driven by a purpose. Perhaps the Consortium had done more for Starfleet and it's future than their feeble attempt to destroy it. He was sure it was unintentional, but it was important all the same.

For now, he would continue to stare at the window, hoping to spot first what no one had seen yet, the faintest hint of green or silver hulls in the distance. Only then, would this waiting game end. Only then, would he sleep once more.

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