Enroute to Starbase 643...

[Ghostfac3]

Strapped to his flight chair, Ensign Savage piloted his attack fighter through the blackness of space. His orders were to dock with the Centurion, the pride of the 7th Fleet. She was a brand new fast-attack cruiser, heavily shielded and armed to the teeth. Starfleet had taken liberties to equip her with the latest type XII phaser arrays and a huge compliment of the still-experimental Mk Q-II quantum torpedoes. She also boasted a huge flight bay which was capable of holding up to two wings of attack craft as well as their supporting shuttlecraft and runabouts. She was a war machine if he had ever heard of one.

His attention shifted back to the cockpit. It was dimly lit and the only light was a dim greenish hue that came from his HUD. He had switched off the LCARs displays and the annoying voice notifications so that he could get some rest on his long journey. He had recently transfered from Starfleet's Air Force to Marine Command, a flight that had sent him from his home in Virginia to the UPLAN fleet yards in high orbit, to the even further 7th Fleet Starbase 643.

His spacecraft was one of the new Scorpion refit fighters, equipped with dual torpedo launchers, pulse phaser cannons, a type X phaser emitter, and a class IV warp core. His ship was perfect in almost every way...except the pilot's chair. It was hard and uncomfortable. Anton found himself having to shift positions every half hour or so just to keep the circulation in his legs flowing properly. He would have to see to it that it was replaced when he got on station.

A soft beep interrupted his thoughts. He looked down and his displays and they came to life with bright colors as his fingers inputed several pieces of information. He looked up and squinted against the darkness of space. He finally saw it, twinkling like a star in the distance. Starbase 643. At last, he thought, I can get out of this goddam chair!

Comm chatter chirped in his earpiece.

"This is Starbase 643, we have you on sensors, identify yourself." said a woman's voice.

"Starbase 643 this is Ghost lead 325, reporting for assignment. Request permission to dock." he replied.

There was an akward moment of silence. Finally the woman's voice responded. "Ghost lead 325 you are cleared to dock in bay 76, proceed to vector 119 mark 4 and contact tower control."

"Roger 643" Anton replied.

He adjusted his course to the supplied coordinates and began his approach. He switched his comm frequency over to contact the tower.

"Tower this is Ghost lead 325, I am on approach and requesting clearance to land." he said.

This time it was a man's voice. "Ghost lead, this is Tower, you are cleared to land. Switch to ILS and synchronize in...3...2...1..."

Right on que, Anton tapped his console to activate the ILS. His HUD shifted to display a 3d lane marker that would guide his ship in. He was now much closer to the starbase and could finally see his docking bay.

Red warning lights suddenly washed out his cockpit. The HUD flickered and went dark. He looked down and his displays and quickly ran a systems diagnostic. The ILS circutry must have fried, he thought as he waited for the results of the damage. He tapped his helmet.

"643 I have an ILS failure, I'm switching to manual control. Please advise." he said as he tried to keep his voice calm.

There was another pause. He was now closing fast on his destination. He estimated only thirty seconds until he reached the landing bay. He would have to abort and wait for a tow ship to reach him.

Anton slammed his fist into the ceiling of his cockpit in frustration. He began to power down his ship. He noticed that several of his commands weren't inputing. The LCARs interface shimmered and went dark. He was locked out of the controls.

A different man's voice sounded in his ear. It was the TCO, tower control officer. "325 advise you power down and let us tow you in. Repeat, power down."

"Negative tower!" he replied with a hint of panic in his voice. "No time, I've lost system control, I'm coming in manually. Clear the deck!"

Anton focused and tried to remember his training from the Academy. He had never had to land under these conditions before. He gripped his flight stick and throttle with both hands. He slowly adjusted his course to line up the nose with the bottom-most part of the landing bay. He throttled-down. Nothing happened.

"Tower this is 325, I'm coming in hot, repeat, I have no joy!"

"Roger 325 we have emergency crews standing by. Good luck." The TCOs voice was calm, which made Anton even more nervous. He looked up at the Starbase. He estimated 10 seconds until landing..or impact.

The cockpit shuddered violently and warning sirens screamed. His craft began an uncontrollable roll to the left. There were at best 7 seconds left.

Anton reached under the forward console, flipped a hatch open, and grabbed a handful of circutry while ripping coils and cables from the console's underbelly. He pulled his stick hard to the right and the craft leveled out. He had managed to disable the fly-by-wire components of his vessel and was now in unassisted flight mode. He tried to bring his ship center to the bay but it was too late.

With his ship stuck at half impulse, the port wing slammed into the side of the bay entrance causing the ship to go into an uncontrollable tight spin, spraying debris all over the landing strip. the inertial stabilizers went offline and Anton was slammed against the side of his cockpit and he watched with horror as flames from ruptured conduits began to envelop his winshield. The outside world was nothing but a blur. He waited for the second impact. It came all too soon.

The rest of his fighter crashed sideways into the far wall of the bay, spun, and rolled over six times before finally coming to rest. Emergency shuttlepods and personnel in EVA suits scrambled to the scene and began dousing the fiery wreck in flame-retardant foam.

Crew chiefs cut open the cockpit which was buried under the ship and pulled Anton from the wreck. He was unconscious, bleeding heavily from a gash above his eye. They mounted him onto a stretcher, strapped him down and took him inside the airlock.

-

Anton opened his eyes wearily and looked around. There were bright lights everywhere and he squinted. Memories of the wreck flashed back into his head and his heart started pounding fast. He tried to sit up but a firm hand came from out of his vision and pushed him back to the bed. A figure loomed over him. It was a woman in a blue Starfleet uniform, obviously some sort of medical staff. She shined a bright blue light into each of his eyes causing him great discomfort, but a necessary evil to check for brain trauma. He waited for her to finish. When she did they stared at eachother for a long couple of seconds.

"Well," she said in a soft tone, "I'm glad that you're finally awake. We've... I've been worried about you."

He looked at her closer. She had straight dark hair that fell just below her chin and striking blue eyes. Her brows were neatly trimmed and arched to compliment her look but her cheek and jaw bones were soft which helped to offset her fiery look. She looked familiar to him. He tried to remember...it came to him finally. "Emma?!" he said incrediously?

The two of them had been best friends at the Academy but when she failed basic flight their careers had took them in different directions. He hadn't seen her in four years. She smiled out of the corner of her mouth and squeezed his hand.

"Welcome to the 7th Fleet, Anton." she said. "Colonel Steile is expecting you...if you feel up to it." He could tell she was mocking him.

He sat up again this time without restraint. He looked around the sickbay. "Of course. Do I have time to change?" he quipped back and winked at her.

She sighed and rolled her eyes while walking away. The future suddenly seemed bright for Anton. This will be fun, he thought.

--

[Steile]

***communicator whistle alert***

Ghostface,
I will see you immediately in my ready room. You are 7MD now, sweat and stink is part of the job. You can shower, on your own time.

Steile, out.

(forward to TF-80 Crew post)

[Ghostfac3]

Hearing the base intercom, Anton regained his focus and slowly got off of the medical bed that he had been laying in for the last five hours. The blood rushed to his head and he suddenly felt dizzy and nauseus. His head spun as he bent over. His friend quickly came to his side with a small bucket for him to throw up in. After a few moments of regaining his composure, he finally stood up and pushed her away gently.

"Thanks, but that's not the first time I've crashed my fighter." he said. He looked at her with a sideways glance. She had a worried expression all over her face.

"If you want you can stay here longer...I can put in the logs that you're still feeling--"

"No. I'm ok." he cut her off mid-sentence. "But if I don't report to the Colonel I won't be." he said with a degree of finality. "Ill see you later, hopefully soon."

He turned to the door and walked out. He got halfway down the corridor before he noticed that he was still wearing light blue hospital robes. Great, he thought, Nothing like meeting my new CO in pajamas!

After stopping along the way and asking for directions, and several turbolift rides later, he finally arrived at the Colonel's ready room. He paused, adjusted his robes, and hit the intercom.

"Col. Steile, Ensign Savage reporting for duty." he said.

"Your late." came the reply. The door opened and Anton stepped into the room.
--

[Deputy Commander Turner]

< GREAT POST >

[Fleet Admiral E. Fortin]

Standing O on the above posts, applause all around... Excellent job...


Fleet Admiral Fortin

[alf13of13]

You have a talent Ensign!

[Admiral Van Wormer]

Super work Sir!

[Ghostfac3]

Thanks guys! I have a pretty real vision of ST (similar to the look of the new and great BSG series and wanted to try and convey that since the shows had more of a loose fantasy feel to them. Let me know if you want me to write more. Hopefully I'll get better with practice and experience. Thanks for the commendation too!

[Major General J.L.Kelley]

I believe you are doing great, I am looking forward to reading more, every person that adds to a thread makes them that much better. The threads take on a bigger more expansive feel.

Thanks

General Kelley