Outside the air had been sweet with a slight San Fransisco summer evening's breeze, and the faint taste of salt from the famous bay that had long ago made the city what it was before ship ports were replaced with star ports. Inside the Advanced Tactical Training Center's Hanger 6 the air was stale with security and oil and coolant. Lorelei breathed in deep, savoring the smells of hard work for possibly the last time. Just days ago, the hangar floor had been dirtied with work, and littered with parts. It had gotten so frenzied that a detatchment from the Corps of Engineers from Utopia Planitia, Starfleet's Premiere Shipyard, had been dispatched to help finish a Cadet Cruise vessel on time.
Now it was clean, polished, with only enough chairs for each member of Black Squadron facing the USS Challenger.
Such a ramp up for a Cadet Cruise was unheard of. Cadet Cruise ships were, in the past, ships taken out of mothballs and had the dust blown off them. They were checked to ensure they still had functional propulsion systems and life support, and little else. The Dominion War, and the subsequent Rigellion Incident, had changed all of that. Now Cadet Cruises were considered the cutting edge, where the brightest young minds of Starfleet blew up boundaries and pushed limits in preperation for their Cadet Cruises--no longer were Cadet Cruises jaunts about some overly secure sector. They actively went poking around hot spots, in an attempt to truly prepare future front line officers for the real universe, not just the safety of Federation galaxies.
What was their hot spot? The afternoon before they left, they would find out, Master Chief had promised. It's why they had all filed into the Hangar now, only half the overhead lights on, alternating the cavernous hangar space in large circles of bright blue light, and dark shadow. The cadets had filed into their chairs arranged in two rows before the Master Chief, their ship towering behind him.
The man stood quiet, watchful, as Black Squadron passed the Starfleet Security checkpoint just inside the Hangar doors and filed into the chairs. It was all buisness, chatter dying quickly after everyone had seated, prompting the Master Chief.
"Congratulations, Jolly Rogers--you made it this far." His typical flat, sardonic delivery was unusually genuine. Lor almost thought she saw pride in his eyes. "Every one of you has worked twelve hour days, seven days a week, for the past six months without a break except for the occassional weekend pass. The effort, the attitude, has all been commendable. You've all played the part of professional Fleeter so far...but now we stop playing. Now you all become real Fleeters."
Master Chief stepped aside, allowing the brilliant light in hues of mostly blue and purple, twinkles of orange and starlight blue peppered in throughout the holographic starchart that came up to take center stage; zooming in to the border between the Federation and the Cardassian Union.
Oh, Lor thought, only the frontlines of the Dominion War...
That was one hell of a "hotspot."
"Between Starbase 318 and Deep Space 9 along the D.M.Z. between the borders of Cardassian Union and Federation will be our Area of Operations. Starfleet Intelligence has reported sightings of Dominion remnants in the area of the D.M.Z., hiding between borders and making small strikes against outposts in the area. The Challenger will officially be assigned to Mobile Wing 27, a division of 8th Fleet that's been tasked with stepping up patrols in the area based on Intel's reports. We're simply helping out. With all the work that's been put into your vessel, we should be able to more than handle anything that's come our way. You all know YOUR area's systems, but those systems outside your specialties have been kept confidental...the lid comes off now. I'll let your Cadet Captain cover that."
Master Chief motioned right at her as the holographic display extinguished, forcing her body out of her chair, and a quick stroll before her Squadron. "Where to start? The ship you see behind me is a prototype. Everything Starfleet has learned from the Borg, every painful lesson won from the Dominion War...it's all been stuffed into our baby. Nanite Adaptive Bio-Neural Computing. Torodial Trans-phasic Warp engines. Multiphasic Shields with Para-Adaptive capabilities. Ablative Armor Sheaths coupled with External Holographic 'Chameleon' systems. Tetryon Channeled Phasers with ACB Jacketing, 'Phalanx' Pulse Phaser arrays with Point Defense Systems, Mark V Quantum Torpedos, and 'maybe'," she said, with the ghost of a grin at the corners of her lips as her excitement grew with each listed technology, "a corbomite device."
After a pause, Master Chief, standing off to the side, chimed in: "It's a bad motherfucker, ladies and gentlemen."
Lor went a step further. "It's the most cutting edge ship in Starfleet right now. It's the culimation of everything I've learned in nearly two centuries of life spent learning about any and all tech I could get my hands on."
"I'd be court martialed if Starfleet Command knew just how much of a prototype this ship is." Master Chief snickered. And he wasn't even joking.
Lor's eyes snapped over to the Master Chief, but only long enough for a single blink, before turning back to her Squadmates. "They're not sending us out to get slaughtered by a bunch of pirates again. This version of the Challenger will ensure that WILL NOT happen again. I hope you've been studying. I hope you're ready to go come tomorrow. I am, and so is our ship."
"Tomorrow be here at Zero-Nine-Thirty, ladies and gentlemen. If you're not ready, get ready. Black Squadron dismissed. Enjoy your last night with civilization for the forseeable future."
"JOLLY ROGERS, ATTEN-CHUN." Lor got loud, snapping herself to a position of attention as Master Chief walked out, leaving only the squadron. Everyone relaxed when they heard the door seal shut behind him as he left the hangar. The two senior Starfleet Security officers at the checkpoint just inside the doors? Were wide eyed, and in a slight state of shock. One even wolf whistled at their ship.
Lor addressed everyone once more, as chatter fired up, and looks were exchanged.
"I'm told the party's already started back at the Pirate Ship, REMEMBER if you want to avoid the partying and want some peace and quiet, keep to the third floor. Starfleet Marines have volunteered their services as bouncers for the third floor dorms, so you'll be safe, but ONLY on the third floor. The second floor classrooms and lounges have been turned into a night club already, from what I'm being told, and the first floor is wall to wall Cadets and ATT students--we've been thrown one heck of a going away party. Advanced Engineering Systems has donated Field Holographic Emitters to us, so we've turned the outside lounge in the middle of the building into a pool party with a holographic pool. Don't get TOO fucked up you can't wake up tomorrow. EVERYONE here meets me on the roof at 2100, which is...three hours from now. Now go, leave, enjoy your last night of freedom."
She waited, just in case someone wanted to ask her about one of the "reveals."
Now it was clean, polished, with only enough chairs for each member of Black Squadron facing the USS Challenger.
Such a ramp up for a Cadet Cruise was unheard of. Cadet Cruise ships were, in the past, ships taken out of mothballs and had the dust blown off them. They were checked to ensure they still had functional propulsion systems and life support, and little else. The Dominion War, and the subsequent Rigellion Incident, had changed all of that. Now Cadet Cruises were considered the cutting edge, where the brightest young minds of Starfleet blew up boundaries and pushed limits in preperation for their Cadet Cruises--no longer were Cadet Cruises jaunts about some overly secure sector. They actively went poking around hot spots, in an attempt to truly prepare future front line officers for the real universe, not just the safety of Federation galaxies.
What was their hot spot? The afternoon before they left, they would find out, Master Chief had promised. It's why they had all filed into the Hangar now, only half the overhead lights on, alternating the cavernous hangar space in large circles of bright blue light, and dark shadow. The cadets had filed into their chairs arranged in two rows before the Master Chief, their ship towering behind him.
The man stood quiet, watchful, as Black Squadron passed the Starfleet Security checkpoint just inside the Hangar doors and filed into the chairs. It was all buisness, chatter dying quickly after everyone had seated, prompting the Master Chief.
"Congratulations, Jolly Rogers--you made it this far." His typical flat, sardonic delivery was unusually genuine. Lor almost thought she saw pride in his eyes. "Every one of you has worked twelve hour days, seven days a week, for the past six months without a break except for the occassional weekend pass. The effort, the attitude, has all been commendable. You've all played the part of professional Fleeter so far...but now we stop playing. Now you all become real Fleeters."
Master Chief stepped aside, allowing the brilliant light in hues of mostly blue and purple, twinkles of orange and starlight blue peppered in throughout the holographic starchart that came up to take center stage; zooming in to the border between the Federation and the Cardassian Union.
Oh, Lor thought, only the frontlines of the Dominion War...
That was one hell of a "hotspot."
"Between Starbase 318 and Deep Space 9 along the D.M.Z. between the borders of Cardassian Union and Federation will be our Area of Operations. Starfleet Intelligence has reported sightings of Dominion remnants in the area of the D.M.Z., hiding between borders and making small strikes against outposts in the area. The Challenger will officially be assigned to Mobile Wing 27, a division of 8th Fleet that's been tasked with stepping up patrols in the area based on Intel's reports. We're simply helping out. With all the work that's been put into your vessel, we should be able to more than handle anything that's come our way. You all know YOUR area's systems, but those systems outside your specialties have been kept confidental...the lid comes off now. I'll let your Cadet Captain cover that."
Master Chief motioned right at her as the holographic display extinguished, forcing her body out of her chair, and a quick stroll before her Squadron. "Where to start? The ship you see behind me is a prototype. Everything Starfleet has learned from the Borg, every painful lesson won from the Dominion War...it's all been stuffed into our baby. Nanite Adaptive Bio-Neural Computing. Torodial Trans-phasic Warp engines. Multiphasic Shields with Para-Adaptive capabilities. Ablative Armor Sheaths coupled with External Holographic 'Chameleon' systems. Tetryon Channeled Phasers with ACB Jacketing, 'Phalanx' Pulse Phaser arrays with Point Defense Systems, Mark V Quantum Torpedos, and 'maybe'," she said, with the ghost of a grin at the corners of her lips as her excitement grew with each listed technology, "a corbomite device."
After a pause, Master Chief, standing off to the side, chimed in: "It's a bad motherfucker, ladies and gentlemen."
Lor went a step further. "It's the most cutting edge ship in Starfleet right now. It's the culimation of everything I've learned in nearly two centuries of life spent learning about any and all tech I could get my hands on."
"I'd be court martialed if Starfleet Command knew just how much of a prototype this ship is." Master Chief snickered. And he wasn't even joking.
Lor's eyes snapped over to the Master Chief, but only long enough for a single blink, before turning back to her Squadmates. "They're not sending us out to get slaughtered by a bunch of pirates again. This version of the Challenger will ensure that WILL NOT happen again. I hope you've been studying. I hope you're ready to go come tomorrow. I am, and so is our ship."
"Tomorrow be here at Zero-Nine-Thirty, ladies and gentlemen. If you're not ready, get ready. Black Squadron dismissed. Enjoy your last night with civilization for the forseeable future."
"JOLLY ROGERS, ATTEN-CHUN." Lor got loud, snapping herself to a position of attention as Master Chief walked out, leaving only the squadron. Everyone relaxed when they heard the door seal shut behind him as he left the hangar. The two senior Starfleet Security officers at the checkpoint just inside the doors? Were wide eyed, and in a slight state of shock. One even wolf whistled at their ship.
Lor addressed everyone once more, as chatter fired up, and looks were exchanged.
"I'm told the party's already started back at the Pirate Ship, REMEMBER if you want to avoid the partying and want some peace and quiet, keep to the third floor. Starfleet Marines have volunteered their services as bouncers for the third floor dorms, so you'll be safe, but ONLY on the third floor. The second floor classrooms and lounges have been turned into a night club already, from what I'm being told, and the first floor is wall to wall Cadets and ATT students--we've been thrown one heck of a going away party. Advanced Engineering Systems has donated Field Holographic Emitters to us, so we've turned the outside lounge in the middle of the building into a pool party with a holographic pool. Don't get TOO fucked up you can't wake up tomorrow. EVERYONE here meets me on the roof at 2100, which is...three hours from now. Now go, leave, enjoy your last night of freedom."
She waited, just in case someone wanted to ask her about one of the "reveals."