“Debacle”

 
The First Battle of the Klovan System
As Written by COM Matthew Wayne

 

==Bridge, USS Texas==
=Klovan System, 24 hours prior to Post #1=

Tom stepped off of the turbolift onto the bridge amidst
the still wailing red alert klaxon. The Bridge was a
flurry of activity as officers moved quickly to study
the situation. Captain Pavlenko stood next to the
center seat looking patiently at it's occupant. Admiral
Adian Hill sat reading over a PADD, looking disinterested
and annoyed. The Captain gave Tom a brief smile as he
headed quickly to the Sciences station. The Ensign
manning the Sciences station was only too glad to step
aside and let Tom have it.

"What's going on," whispered Tom to the Ensign as he
took over. The Ensign merely pointed to the readouts
and as Tom looked at them his heart jumped into his
throat.

"We have company," said Admiral Hill's annoyed voice
from the center of the Bridge. "I expect my senior
officers to arrive more quickly when an alert is sounded
Mr. Lynch." The man's hearing was incredible, thought
Tom. "Tactical, report," ordered Hill before Tom could
offer an excuse.

"Long range sensors confirm that we have nine unknown
vessels inbound from the far edge of the system," replied
Commander Bixton from the Tactical station. "There are
four smaller vessels in line abreast formation followed
by two very large ships in trail with three medium sized
vessels in vee formation behind them. The four out front
appear to be frigates and I'd wager that the two big
ships in the middle are fleet carriers."

"That means that the three bringing up the rear are
freighters," offered Captain Pavlenko with a thoughtful
expression, "possibly even troop carriers."

"Can we confirm their identity," asked Admiral Hill
turning to look at Tom. "I would have thought the sensors
on this vessel were more capable."

"Sensors are having some trouble due to the Klovan Sun's
current state of solar flares Admiral," replied Tom as
his fingers went to work. "The computer gives them an
eighty percent chance of being Vanderian energy signatures."

"Estimated time to intercept," requested Admiral Hill
turning to the tactical station with a scowl firmly
implanted on his face.

"At their present speed they will reach our engagement
range in twenty minutes," replied Commander Bixton.

"Very well," said Admiral Hill. "Have the fleet move
to intercept, plan Gamma."

"Plan Gamma, aye sir," replied Bixton, "transmitting
to the fleet."

"Send to Starfleet Command," continued Hill, "Task Force
has encountered what we believe to be a Vanderian Fleet
and are moving to intercept."

"Separation from the carriers," cried out Bixton, "they're
launching fighters… oh my god look at all of them."

"Steady Commander, now is not the time for theatrics,"
chastised Hill at the tactical officer's outburst. "We
know that their fleet carriers hold fifty or more fighters
each. Order all ships to scramble our fighters according
to plan Beta.

"Plan Beta, transmitting now," replied Bixton.

==Vanderian Space System==

The vast openness of space began to get smaller as the
two fleets converged. On the far side of the Klovan
system, almost in the plane of the ecliptic the Vanderian
fleet, led by four light gray colored frigates, moved in
system. The small vessels were hammerhead shaped much like
their larger cousins, the green hulled carriers. At a
predetermined point, just inside the orbit of the eighth
planet, the Vanderian fleet came to a near stand still as
the Carrier's continued to launch their swarm of attack
craft.

The Vanderian fighters were small, cigar shaped affairs
with a large weapons array at the nose. The fighter had
little shielding but made up for it with a maneuverability
that was second to none. The entire design was based around
the small vessel's main weapon, a plasma disruptor. Several
months prior five of the small fighters had destroyed the
USS Kuniper, a
Norway class ship. At the time it had been
put off as an accident, but now it appeared more likely to
have been a test of their capabilities. If five fighters
had taken out a modern light cruiser, the one hundred that
now formed up were more than enough to anniliate the forty
ships of the Federation Task force.

The Federation task force, comprised of ships of from
nearly every active class, began to close the distance.
At the center of the task force was the large, brand new
Sovereign Class USS
Texas. Another ship, an odd looking
design tucked in behind the Texas at the center of the
task group, Admiral Hill's pet as the rest of the task
group had taken to calling it, began to launch its own
fighters. Several other ships also began disgorging
fighters and they quickly moved to form up with one
another.

=Bridge, USS Texas=

"All fighters have been successfully launched and are
forming up," reported Commander Bixton as several colored
bars appeared on his tactical displays. "Commander Parks
requests confirmation of his rules of engagement, sir."

"Remind the Commander that he is not to fire unless
fired upon," replied a disgusted sounding Admiral Hill.
"I have a task force of forty ships and they think that
four small frigates and two carriers will be enough to
discourage our presence here. The arrogance of those
Birdies."

"Admiral, shouldn't we try hailing them," interjected
Captain Pavlenko, suppressing a frown at the slur.

"It's not like we don't know what their intentions are,"
snorted Adian Hill in retort, "however you have a point.
Send out a hail to those ships; let's see if they want
to talk first."

"Hailing frequencies open sir," replied Commander Bixton.

"Vanderian Fleet," began Admiral Hill as he stood from
the center seat on the bridge, "This is Admiral Adian
Hill of the United Federation of Planets. Your vessels
are now in protected Federation territory. You will
withdraw your ships at once or face open hostilities
with the Federation. This will be your only warning."

"Did they get it," asked Hill a few seconds later when
there had been no reply.

"My best guess is that they did," replied Tom as he
studied his screens. The Vanderians were approaching
from the far side of the system, using the Klovan sun
to screen their movements. In the Klovan Star's present
state of magnetic flux, it was working perfectly.

"Incoming message," stated Commander Bixton, "it's from
the Vanderians."

"Onscreen," stated Admiral Hill with another look of
dissatisfaction at the Tactical Officer. Once this
battle was over he'd have to see about removing the
man from his position.

"Uh, voice only sir," replied Bixton. "I'll put it
on speakers."

"Federation Fleet," began the obviously translated
reply. Underneath the stale monotone of the Universal
Translator could be heard the untranslated speech of
the Vanderians. True to their avian ancestors their
speech was a collection of clicks, chirps and other
bird like noises. "We do not wish for war with the
Federation; however this system is not within Federation
territory. Therefore we order you to withdraw your
fleet at once, as you have no jurisdiction here. This
will be your only warning."

"The arrogance," snapped Hill. "Let Commander Parks
know their response to our hails and put the Fighter
Group's tactical frequency on speakers."

"Aye sir," replied Bixton. "Commander Parks acknowledges
and again requests confirmation of his rules for engagement."

"Damn it," snapped Hill, "nothing has changed we will
not be the ones to fire first. His rules of engagement
are unchanged; do not fire unless fired upon."

"Aye sir, sending confirmation," replied Bixton.

"Keyworth Green Leader to group," crackled the Bridge
speakers as Commander Bixton brought up the Fighter's
tactical net. "It looks like we're going to mix it up.
Do not fire unless fired upon, repeat, do not fire
unless fired upon. Remember to keep your wingmen tucked
in close. Good luck."

=Klovan Space=

As the two main fleets came to a near standstill on
their respective sides of the system primary, the two
groups of fighters continued to close. The Vanderian
fighter swarm shifted formation so that it presented a
walled front, four fighters high and twenty five fighters
wide. The Federation fighter group, seventy Peregrine
Class Fighters strong, formed up into the more familiar
finger four tactical formations, with four sections
making up a squadron. They arrayed themselves into
several layers and continued to close the distance.

 

==Bridge, USS Texas==
=Klovan System, Following Post #5=

"Keyworth Green Leader to group," crackled the Bridge
speaker again. The interference in the communications
relay was from the same solar fluxuations that were
plaguing Tom's sensor suite. "Here they come."

"Ten seconds to engagement range," said Commander Bixton
quietly. The Bridge of the
Texas was deathly silent as
everyone focused on the visual display on the Main View
Screen. At this range the fighters appeared as small
dots approaching each other. The Federation ships were
easier to spot, their grey hulls reflecting the nearby
system primary's rays. The Vanderian fighters were a
dark brownish green and only their wall like formation
made them visible. Tom found himself dry mouthed and
nervously checking and rechecking his readouts. Admiral
Hill watched silently with Captain Pavlenko standing
next to him at the center of the Bridge. Both men had
faced combat before, but neither of them had been present
when the hostilities had started.

"I have a bad feeling about this," muttered Commander
Bixton from Tactical.

"Green six to Keyworth lead," crackled the bridge speakers
as they relayed the Fighter group's tactical frequency,
"they're locking us up."

"Hold formation," came the terse and tense sounding reply
from Commander Parks. "Steady…"

"Five seconds," said Commander Bixton. The silence on
the bridge of the
Texas grew to intense levels as each
of the officers began the silent count in their heads.
Tom felt a bead of sweat run down his spine, despite
the best efforts of the Bridge environmental system.

=Klovan Space=

The two opposing fighter forces crossed into weapons
range. The Federation Peregrine Class fighters, their
pilots nervously handling their controls waited. Each
pilot ran through a last minute mental checklist. They
knew that the Vanderian fighters were about to open fire,
but they didn't know when. To a pilot, they all wished
that they were weapons free, however they were not and
for now had to play the role of sitting ducks. The
helplessness was not something any of them were used
to, but orders were orders.

The Vanderian pilots, with clear orders, depressed firing
buttons on their control columns. The dark vastness of
space was momentarily lit up by the near simultaneous
discharge of one hundred plasma disruptors. The beams
raced across the gap of space towards their targets,
death had been unleashed and the grim reaper waited
with a smile.

The only thing that saved the Federation Fighter group
was the distance between them and the Vanderians. The
Plasma Disruptor beams traveled at velocities near to
the speed of light, too fast for human or even most
species reaction times. The computers aboard the
fighters were not restricted to chemical impulses
however. Their processors worked at near light speeds
as well, and for some of them, were able to avoid the
incoming wave of death by initiating last minute evasive
maneuvers. Even with the computer's help forty of the
seventy Peregrine fighters disappeared in brilliant
orange blossom like fireballs.

==Bridge, USS Texas==

The bridge crew stared at the view screen in disbelief
as it suddenly lit up in a brilliant fireworks display.
Where the fighters had once been was now a convulsing
region of orange and yellow expanding and contracting
balls of fire. Their brain's tried to comprehend what
they had just seen and move on with their duties. The
surviving Peregrine Fighters broke formation and
desperately tried to evade the incoming wall of Vanderian
Fighters. Tom's jaw was wide open with a silent scream
as he stared in disbelief. On screen a small portion of
the Vanderian wall of fighters broke off to follow the
scattering Federation fighters while the rest continued
on.

"Stick with your wingmen and engage," crackled the
Bridge speaker breaking the silence. Someone had
survived the opening volley, thought Tom as he realized
his mouth was open. The voice sounded calm and collected,
the even reaction of an experienced combat pilot.
"Hothead close it up."

"Sweet Jesus…," uttered Commander Bixton.

==Keyworth Green Leader==

Commander Parks had indeed survived the opening volley
of the Federation-Vanderian War. He didn't know how,
but training immediately kicked in. He threw his fighter
into a series of violent maneuvers designed to throw off
targeting computers and took a quick glance at his status
panel. Where there had been seventy green emblems a
second early only thirty remained. He had to get his
fighters organized or they'd be wiped out.

==Keyworth Green Twenty-Three==

Lieutenant Junior Grade J'alen "Hothead" Gorner didn't
need to comprehend what was going on. His job was to
protect the aft, or
six o'clock of Keyworth Green
Leader's fighter. He fought with his controls as he
tried to follow his Group Leader through a series of
evasive maneuvers. He didn't need to know that over
half of his Group had just been wiped out in a single
volley. All he knew was that battle had been joined
and that he wanted revenge.

==Bridge, USS Texas==

"Status report," requested a somber sounding Adian Hill.
He hadn't actually thought that the Vanderians would
attack. He gritted his teeth as he thought about how
they would pay for their arrogance. No one attacked
his Task Group and got away unscathed. When there was
no response to his request he turned to look at the
tactical station. Commander Bixton stood staring at
the main view screen, open mouthed with a look a shock
on his face. "Commander Bixton I said Status Report,"
he repeated, this time more forcefully. Bixton seemed
to shake himself out of his shock and looked down at
his status panel.

"Break Gonzo, break damn it," shouted an unknown voice
on the bridge speakers as the Fighter's tactical channel
continued to be broadcast. The speaker momentarily
screeched as a transmission was cut off, it's source
more than likely just having been killed.

"Uh…," stammered Bixton as he looked over his displays.
"Twenty four of our fighters remain and are engaged
with a like number of the Vanderian Fighters. Seventy
five Vanderian fighters inbound."

"They're going to attack us with fighters," stated
Adian Hill triumphantly as he slapped his leg. "What
are their frigates doing?"

"The main Vanderian fleet is holding its position,"
replied Bixton as he continued to try and get a hold
of his emotions. Two minutes until the Vanderian
Fighters are in range."

"Someone get that bastard off my six," yelled an unknown
voice over the bridge speakers.

"Sweet maker they just got Commander Parks," announced
another voice.

"Shut that racket off," demanded Adian Hill. He didn't
need to listen to the fighters anymore. The Vanderians
were making a tactical blunder sending in their fighters
without the frigates. He'd tear them apart before they
got into range.

==Keyworth Green Twenty-Three==

"Sweet maker they just got Commander Parks," shouted
Hothead into his helmet's communications pick-up. He
hadn't been able to move fast enough to cover his
leader's six and the Vanderian Fighter had roared in,
firing it's beam of death. Keyworth Green Leader's
Peregrine had shuddered then exploded as the beam tore
it nearly in half.

"Now you're mine you feathered bastard," cursed Hothead
to himself. He pushed his fighter into a side-slip and
turned to get on the Vanderian's six. Just as his
targeting computer was locking up the enemy fighter it
did something that no space bound fighter should have been
able to do. "What the hell?"

The Vanderian pilot instantly killed his velocity and
rocketed straight up, placing him squarely on Keyworth
Green Twenty-Three's
six o'clock. Hothead cursed again
and put his fighter into a hard impulse turn. His
sensors screamed a warning as the Vanderian Fighter
locked up its weapon onto his craft. He suddenly
thought of home, and how he'd miss the planting season
on his father's hydro reef. It was the last thought
he'd ever have as the Vanderian's Plasma Disruptor beam
tore his fighter apart. There was a brief sensation of
intense heat and then nothing but empty blackness.

==Bridge, USS Texas==

"All ships this is Admiral Hill," began Adian after
opening up the fleet tactical communications net. "They
may have gotten our fighters, but we'll show them the folly
of their actions. All ships prepare to engage."

 

==Bridge, USS Texas==

The debacle of the fighter battle was now forgotten
as the Vanderian fighters continued their approach.
Tom studied his displays and realized with horror that
no Federation Fighters had survived the engagement. It
also looked as if not a single Vanderian Fighter had
been destroyed as he saw twenty plus contacts racing
to rejoin the approaching wall of seventy-five.

"Attack plan Beta," ordered Admiral Hill as he sat
forward and gripped the armrests of his command chair.

"Aye sir, transmitting," replied Bixton as his once
frozen fingers went to work issuing the order to the
fleet. He was overcoming his own shock as he realized
that his own survival now hung in the balance. "All
ships report ready Admiral."

"Good, now we'll show these Birds what it means to
tangle with the Federation," stated Admiral Hill. "All
ships are to commence fire when in range."

Tom looked up at the view screen where the wall of
Vanderian fighters was now clearly visible. The
twenty-five or so fighters that had broken off to
finish the initial battle had rejoined the formation
and were now boring in at an incredible sub-light
velocity. He watched his screen and plotted an imaginary
line on the display that showed the edge of their
weapons range.

Attack plan Beta called for all of the Federation ships
to lay down a barrage of photon torpedoes. The torpedoes
had been modified to what was called a `Brown Torpedo'.
Tom smiled with pride at the thought of his friend
Lieutenant Brown's idea. The warhead yield on the
torpedo had been reduced to allow for better maneuvering
capabilities. The Vanderian fighters carried only
navigational shielding, meaning one hit would take
them out. The torpedo would act like a heat seeking
missile from the days of inner atmospheric combat,
searching out its target and maneuvering quickly to
get into position. The torpedo could be defeated
through quick evasion and countermeasures, two things
the Vanderian fighters had in abundance and Tom waited.

"In range Admiral," said Commander Bixton quietly.

"FIRE," shouted Admiral Hill.

==Klovan Space==

The photon and quantum torpedo launchers of the
nearly forty vessels of the Federation Task force
opened up a steady stream of brightly colored orange
and white hate. The dead fighter pilots had friends
on many of the ships and now those ships were looking
for revenge. The initial volley contained well over
two hundred projectiles and the bridge crew once
again held their breath as the torpedoes tracked
towards their targets.

The wall of Vanderian fighters continued to approach,
seemingly indifferent to the approaching wave of death.
At what seemed like the last second the formation
suddenly scattered in all directions. The Federation
torpedoes momentarily lost lock and then tried to
reacquire it. Some wandered off into space and
detonated at a predetermined distance; others
reacquired targets and turned to re-engage. The
Vanderian fighters continued to dance their deadly
evasion among the emptiness of space. The initial
volley got smaller and smaller as the weapons ran
out of fuel and detonated harmlessly.

==Bridge, USS Texas==

"Fire second volley," ordered Admiral Hill. He watched
the main screen in disbelief. How could anyone have
thwarted those weapons? He shrugged, putting it down
to the extreme range at which they had been fired.
The second volley would do the job.

Again nearly forty ships poured forth anger and hate
in the form of photon and quantum torpedoes at the
incoming Vanderian fighters. Once again the fighters
began a series of gyrations and pirouettes that
fooled and confused the incoming weapons. Admiral
Hill leaned further forward in his chair and refused
to believe what his eyes were telling him. He smiled
as one of the detonations on the screen grew more
brightly than the others. An unfortunate Vanderian
Fighter had misjudged its evasion and flown directly
into the path of another oncoming projectile.

"Got one," stated Commander Bixton flatly.

"One," questioned Admiral Hill.

"One sir," replied Bixton.

"We just fired over four hundred torpedoes at them
and we got one," questioned Admiral Hill, unwilling
to believe what he was hearing.

"Aye, sir, one," repeated Bixton. Tom stared at the
screen in disbelief. The Captain turned to look at
Tom and the two exchanged knowing glances. Things
were about to go very badly for them and Admiral Hill
was the only one who didn't understand.

"Fire third volley and prepare to switch to phasers,"
ordered Adian. This would surely get the evasive
little craft. The range was almost down to beam
range and the torpedoes would have maximum fuel
loads when they engaged the reforming wall of fighters.

The situation was nearly the same. Two hundred
torpedoes arched out across the vast emptiness of
space hunting for targets. The wall of Vanderian
Fighters waited until the last second and broke in
ninety-nine different directions. The torpedoes'
targeting sensors fought a losing battle to maintain
lock and then to reacquire new targets. The laws of
probability were on their side, but at this range the
odds were only slightly better for the incoming weapons.

"Six fighters destroyed Admiral," reported Commander
Bixton a minute later in a flat tone.. "Vanderian
Fighters reforming and will be in phaser range in
twenty seconds."

"Attack Plan Zeta," ordered a dejected Admiral Hill
as he slumped back into his chair.

"That's suicide Admiral," protested Commander Bixton.
"They'll pick us off like sitting ducks."

"You're relieved Commander Bixton," shouted Adian as
he let all of his anger pour out and into his revulsion
for the
Texas's Tactical Officer. "I am tired of your
incompetence."

"Sir," asked Commander Bixton looking towards Captain
Pavlenko.

"Admiral, I must agree with Commander Bixton," replied
Pavlenko. "Ordering the fleet to break up will only
present easier targets for their fighters. We should
tighten our formation, making it harder for them to get
between us and giving our ships mutual protection."

"Damn it Captain," stammered Hill as he turned his
ire upon his Flag Captain. "I can have you relieved
as well. Execute Plan Zeta now damn you!"

"Plan Zeta aye," replied Pavlenko as he walked over
to the Tactical Station. "Sorry Commander but I must
ask you to step aside," he said to Bixton upon reaching
the station.

"Captain he's going to get us all killed," protested
Bixton even as he stepped aside to let his Captain
have the tactical station.

"You'll have your day," replied Pavlenko quietly to
Bixton, "if we survive this," he added as an afterthought.
"Plan Zeta communicated to the fleet Admiral."

"Thank you Captain," said Hill with a nod and added
sneer towards Bixton. "You may leave the bridge Commander
Bixton. I doubt we'll be needing your services again."

"With pleasure Admiral," retorted Bixton sarcastically.
Tom watched the angry Tactical Officer storm off the
bridge and suddenly found himself wishing for the Swiftsure.

==Klovan Space==

The assembled Federation task force began to peel away
from one another and form into small groups. The
Texas
was flanked by the odd looking fighter carrier, the Galaxy
Class USS Holden and the Norway Class USS Endearing. In
groups of threes and fours the Federation ships headed
for the rendezvous point near Klovan Five on their side
of the system primary. Inside the Vanderian Fighters the
pilots would have been showing feral grins had their beak
like mouths allowed for the gesture. The wall, now down
to ninety-three fighters broke up into smaller groups to
pursue the retreating Federation fleet.

==Bridge, USS Texas==

"In range Admiral," reported Captain Pavlenko from the
Tactical Station.

"Fire at will," ordered Adian. Now they would see the
genius of his plan. By breaking the fleet up into
smaller groups, the Vanderians would be forced to do
the same, lessening the blows that they were able to
administer.

"Firing phasers," stated Pavlenko as he initiated the
firing command.

On screen Tom could only watch as the Sovereign's mighty
main phaser array charged and then let loose with an
orange energy beam of pure anger. The beam lanced out
towards a group of six fighters, who all too easily
dodged the blast and then came boring in.

"Just as I had feared Admiral," reported Pavlenko. "Our
targeting computers can't adjust quickly enough to
combat their maneuverability."

"No one can be that lucky for that long," said Hill
with a snort. "All banks are to go to rapid fire.
That should take a few of them out."

"Rapid fire, aye," replied Pavlenko, but Tom could
hear the doubt and resignation in his voice.

The Vanderian Fighters bored in on the now fleeing
Federation ships and pressed home their attacks. The
Plasma Disruptors couldn't penetrate the more powerful
and larger ship's shields, at least initially, but
they packed a considerable wallop. Throughout the
now scattered formation of the Federation Task Group
ship's bucked and heaved as their shields tried to
absorb and dissipate the energy of the Vanderian
weapons. In most cases they held, but the Nova Class
Knossos was hit by four blasts at the same time.
Its' port nacelle came apart in a brilliant shower
of blue and reddish orange plasma. The ship's
automatic shutdown procedures couldn't save it and
the small vessel tore itself to pieces as it's core
went up from the overload.

"Heavy damage to decks six through nine," reported
the Engineering station officer. "Deck four now
open to space in sections ten alpha and ten beta."

"Malice reports heavy casualties; as do six others,"
reported Pavlenko as he continued to man the tactical
station. "Sir I recommend that we jump to warp to
get away from these fighters."

"I will not abandon this system Captain Pavlenko,"
replied Hill sourly. "How many of their ships have
we taken out?"

"Ten so far, but we're getting torn apart," said
Pavlenko as the
Texas rocked violently from another
hit. The bridge was filling with acrid smoke and
cables hung from an access panel that had been blown
open by an overloaded conduit. Tom was down to one
display and things didn't look good.

"There goes the Isis," said Pavlenko as one of the
ship's on his displays vanished, "and the Fornok.
Admiral we must withdraw."

"I will not abandon my assignment," shouted Hill as
he stood up from his chair.

"Admiral we've lost twelve ships, and the rest are
heavily damaged, we must withdraw," pleaded Captain
Pavlenko. As he spoke another ship icon, the Akira
Class Revenant, disappeared.

"Are all of you incompetent," shouted Hill
questioningly as he turned to face Captain Pavlenko,
"Captain you are…"

His words were cut off as yet another explosion
rocked the ship. The blast must have hit close to
the bridge as it sent everyone tumbling off of their
feet amidst a shower of sparks and flickering lighting.
There was a scream from somewhere near the front of
the Bridge as a station exploded. Tom was knocked
to the decking and struck his head onto a nearby
bulkhead. His world darkened so quickly that he
hadn't even had time to think about what was happening.

 

Captain's log, Stardate 56694.11

 

Over two weeks ago, based on intelligence indicating that the Vanderians were moving to the Klovan system, in non aligned territory - ideal place to be able to launch attacks on 6 Federation systems - a task force of 41 ships was dispatched from SB 285, led by an Admiral Hill, in hope the show of force would intimidate them.

 

Four days ago, SB 285 received word that the Vanderians had engaged Adm. Hill's Task Force. Admiral Hill was defeated with over 70% losses on our side. The details of the battle are still unknown. Ten ships escaped and regrouped around the USS Thomas Jackson. Admiral Loren immediately dispatched three ships to rendez vous with the Jackson's group in the Balin system, where we arrived three hours ago. Commodore Wayne is our task force CO and the Swiftsure has been designated as the flag ship. The USS Aurora travelled with us to the Balin system, while the USS Vigilant has just joined us.

 

One of the most damaged ships has been lost today. The USS Charivari, which had already lost 45% of her crew including the XO and 2nd Officer, was destroyed by a warp core breach upon our arrival. We were able to retrieve the remainder of their crew, including Captain Desmoines, but for three. This doesn't bid well for the first part of our mission, which is to assist the Jackson group with repairs and medical emergencies before sending them off to the Teltek system. At that point, we will continue and retrace their steps on a search and rescue mission for more of our ships and crews.

 

The nine remaining ships are: the USS Arawak, an Akira. The USS Furious and Hades, both Saber class originally attached to SB 285. The USS Polaris and Karwan, both Nebula class. The USS Boston, New Orleans class originally attached to SB 285, the last one to join the group. Last, the The Niagara class USS Aquarius and USS Borodine, a New Orleans class.

 

All combined, they carry a total of 4723 crewmembers, part of which were rescued on the way out from the battlefield. The group is missing a number of Senior officers, the Medical departments are on overload and some of the ships are sending alarming status reports on their power and life support resources. Thankfully they had some time before our arrival to organize, pool resources and move people around. We have started handing supplies and transporting support crews. I suspect the situation could deteriorate fast. I am however fully confident that we can yet turn the tide.

 

 

 

Return to Mission Logs: