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USS Ark Royal
Entering standard orbit of Julian four
"All senior hands, hear this: department heads to the ships briefing room, department heads to the ships briefing room. That is all."
John smiled with the naval talk coming in over the ship wide comm line. With the Ark Royal's link to the sea it was nice for a marine to hear navy and marine speak coming from fleet speakers. But the problem remained that the Ark Royal for all her guns and ground ponders she was still a fleet ship of science her corridors were still had the rounded edges and flush carpets of a ship destine for nice and safe mission with a dash of luxury thrown in.
John preferred the bulky and sharp edges of the Defiant class – there was a bird who knew what it was about, a bird of prey. John mulled over the different ships he had been on and their suitability for the more war like life of the marines that they carried through the stars. Soon John was walking through the briefing room doors with a stride that straddled the divide between a full-blown march and formal walk.
"Sarge Major"
"Boss man."
John came to attention as the Captain of the Ark Royal stared at him from the head of the table, his antennae moved ever so slightly out of time as if each trying to get a gauge of the only standing man in the room. John smiled as he waited as usual for the Andorian Captain Kranne to allow him to sit down; the Andorian suited the red of the uniform, it somehow made him look like the elder statesman with his greying goatee that framed a set of thin expressive lips. And with his hands clasp together on the table you could be forgiven of thinking of some of the self-glorifying holo-shot some long forgotten President of the Federation would have commissioned them for his first year in office.
"Take post, marine commander."
"Sir."
With a click of John's less than shiny boots he walked over to where the Executive Officer was sitting, it seemed odd that for all of her mixed heritage only her teeth showed any trace of human lineage, as well as a damn good dentist, but Bryant knew better than to bring it up…Klingon mother and all…John nodded and slipped in behind her taking his post. There were only seats enough for the senior commissioned crew so John stood in an over watch position beside the XO it didn't overly bother John as it helped reinforce the image of the marines as mean green fighting machines.
There was a lull for a few moments before Lt. Commander Kagga Grenne spoke to the assembled multitude, another thing John liked about the Ark Royal was thatprotocol and officers duties were followed to the nth degree, which was why the XO was starting to brief as she was the link to the Captain in terms of rank in the room.
"This briefing is taking place to inform you of what is expected of each department during this routine familiarisation exercise. And if we are very luck a little bit of shore leave thrown into the mix too"
"Great!"
One of the babies of the crew piped up when it wasn't proper to do so. His mop of blonde hair looked like a lion cub's mane; so much promise, but lacking in any sort of experience. And his voice sounded a little too excitable to belong to the Chief medic on ship. But Lt jg Tam Weathers comment did much to lighten the mood and even got John smiling. Tam was trying to act cool but was obviously finding it very difficult to gauge how his comment was taken; his clear green eyes were floundering as he tried to catch the gaze of the less senior officers in the briefing room.
"Here, here Ell-tee"
Bryant jump in and the doctor looked up and nodded ever so slightly, quite a deft reply to the Sarge Major's lifeline, there was promise for the young man but he needed to see some real action; and the Ark Royal wasn't the first on Starfleet command's list for ultra hazardous and promotion enhancing jobs.
Kagga shifted slightly in her chair, the Klingon warrior woman no doubt a little upset at Bryant for encouraging the child. For at 26 and barely two years out of the academy Mr. Weathers had the somewhat dubious distinction of being the ships boy in any briefing. Again the briefing room fell into silence as the more senior crew members kept quiet and waited for the Executive to carry on.
"As I was saying this is primarily a familiarisation exercise for the 67th flotilla stationed on the planet to see what we can offer in the way of amphibious and air support. The exercise is set to last for between a week to a fortnight with at least three different exercises, at this point the Sergeant Major will carry on the brief…"
John clipped his heels in response and moved quickly to the big briefing screen that was already a jumble of lines and imaged which he had to quickly translate into some meaningful spiel.
"Thank you, Ma'am. The units we will be working with form the 67th flotilla, at present the flotilla consists of three Manta class submersibles that carry the longbow surface to space torpedo system; we won't be exercising with them so that's all you need to know. The surface fleet of the flotilla is a carrier battle group based round the carrier Minsk and the amphibious assault ship Al Jabar; finally the frigate Rogue acts as armed support for the Al Jabar while the destroyers Romulus and Remus with their two type X batteries apiece deal with overall group security and provide the orbital fire umbrella.
We will exercise with the entire battle group over the three days playing friend and foe. Exercise details will be piped up to us once we are bedded in up here."
Bryant nodded over to the sea dog of the group whose greying beard looked it has caught the last sea salt from when the fleet had finally left the sea; whose eyes behind overly large black spectacles looked as if they had been handed out by a blind medic. But Bryant wasn't about to tell that to the Chef tactical officer of the Ark Royal, after all Johan Black was the one who rammed torpedoes down an enemies throat, a throat usually less than a hundred feet away from John in any given direction.
"And what about little old me, sugar dumpling?"
'Sugar dumpling' the words could have come from a kindly old grandma with all the understanding and calm in them; but instead they came from a woman who had the body of an angel and the silky voice of a siren, but with her spiky red hair any meaningful comments on personailty traits were always left in a limbo of the strange contradictory mix of feminine whiles and masculine hair cut. And what made it worse was that a lot of the senior male crew thought she knew how to play on it, John included; but that's what made the Chief scientist Ensign Lex King a part of the family.
"Ensign, the sugar dumpling is not a scientist but a marine, as such I will answer that question: you will be liasing with the shipyards staff on how best to best adapt the ships sensors to serve aquatic based scientific work."
Lex nodded quickly as the Andorian finished his speech, his voice carrying the edge of someone who was less than ok with the use of such frivolous language in his briefing room. The captain leaned back in his chair and folded his hands together.
John knew that Lex had a good mad on, the usual after a briefing rant went along the line of she was the scientist among 'club wielding macho-maniacs', her words, on a bad day. But with the promise of some shore leave everyone was mellowing out a little; even John was thinking past the exercises and to the bars where he would have a few beers, the good bars, the old bars, the all or nothing bars, but even John had to admit they weren't too rough.
He was getting too old for that sort of thing. The promise of shore leave was having more of an effect than he had first thought; somehow he had missed the fact the command crew had left. Kranne looked over before he stood up with that regulation issue look that gave nothing away but didn't hide much either.
"Sir, lets not start this again."
"Start what, John?"
"God damn it, Sir, Sarah is one hell of a COB!"
Kranne moved from his chair and looked out over the inviting blue green tapestry of Julian four. His hands clasped behind his back in the classic at ease posture.
"She is good at her job, but you have more experience, so how is the enlisted crew?"
"The marines are good. Don't have the foggiest bout the fleet side of things boss."
The Andorian moved away from the windows and brought his hands to his side as his MCO dodged the question with ease. Kranne's brow furrowed slight as his highest enlisted marine used his experience to answer his question yet leave out the bit his captain wanted to hear.
"Sergeant Major…."
"No Lt. Colonel…"
John dived back down the Captain's throat referring to the Andorians standing in his own armed forces…
"Sarah is your COB and she is good at it, you want to know how the fleet enlisted are going ask her; I'm up to my eyeballs trying to keep the Albion and Bulwark combat ready with trained marines to use them. I haven't got the time to do Sarah's job as well."
Kranne moved forward as if to say something short and sharp but relented mid stride. For a second the air became heavy and strained between the two men as each one stubbornly stuck to their viewpoints. Kranne then chuckled to himself.
"Damn this fleet with women in it."
John just sighed to release the pent up aggression and anger that their little spat had created. Bryant took his captains lead and walked back toward the windows as they both looked down upon their next area of operations for a few quiet moments.
"Sir, really Sarah is good at what she does after all I was the one that recommend her to you."
A second or two more silence followed as Kranne realised he had been caught out with his own word game. A small smile flickered across his lips as he sighed a deep sigh.
"Alright you have me this time Chief, but…"
"'But' Sir?"
"But….never mind, Sergeant Major… Now what are you going to be doing on these couple of days of shore leave."
"If everything follows form, looking after the fleet crew."
John clicked his heels and left the observation lounge leaving the captain alone with his thoughts. Thoughts that always swirled around the role of the Ark Royal if the Federation ever went into a situation where the Ark would be needed.
His ship was one that was designed to break through an atmosphere, deliver two open topped patrol boats into harms way and then rain down fire in support of their operations. Any mission would result in them taking a battering, the ship would be pummelled relentlessly and the marines in the ships harassed by fire every second their supported their larger ocean based brethren. Casualties would be a certainty with fatalities being a dam strong probability.
But Kranne knew that they would probably never be called to fight as their kind of warfare was hardly fought unless the war raged across systems and sectors… but still, if war had taught him anything one thing was sure… you could never second guess how and where the next conflict would spark up.
Imperial Naval Patrol Base Julian
Julian four
"So our own Emperor had an impostor in our universe."
"Yes, and it appears the anti-emperor was the one that cause the Vulcans to gain that sick value of ethics."
Nathan sat on the bench that looked out over the mass of metallic sharks that was the fleet that protected the naval yard and ships that would slice trough the waters in the name of the immortal Empire. Nathan wondered again if this was just one more set piece in a game of chess where the Admiral played both sides. Alderhay allowed himself to breathe deeply and relax a little, but one hand still stayed firmly on his phaser. Alexia sat down next to him and took of her peak cap and placed in on her lap gently holding it with both hands as if she were nervous.
"So Captain Alderhay, are you going to take me in?"
Nathan shifted on the bench as he weighed up everything he had heard.
"Take you in Admiral? Before your exercise commences, the very reason I am here… no, let us watch the exercise first."
Federation Naval Base Julian
Julian four
John was only half joking when it came to looking after the fleet crew when they were enjoying their first couple of days R&R. And as the transporter beam released him he had the passing thought that maybe he should let the Naval Patrol look after them. Apart from the fact one operated on good old-fashioned water and one in space they were both very similar services, sister services even.
Bryant quickly walked off one of the very large personnel pads and made his way through the base. All around him the mass of naval personnel went about their business; all wearing the kind of jump suit Captain Archer would have recognised. John preferred the Patrol's uniform as to him it was more practical and based around operational necessity. While Fleet uniform always looked a little too tailored. John however wasn't in uniform at all; a battered old pair of beige hiking boots and a pair of blue jeans replaced his combat boots and fatigue pants. And instead of webbing he wore a black t-shirt and brown long sleeve shirt whose sleeves were rolled up.
Bryant moved with ease through the traffic as he used the short cuts and shadow draped corridors not much liked by the commissioned members of any force. One nice thin about Naval bases were they were near the sea and soon John was walking on a sandy walkway that straddled the beach and the road. Bryant gazed out over the sea and the sun that was setting in its deep red blanket of clouds.
John started thinking about things, about the near constant threat of the demobilisation of the Ark Royal and the separation of her crew. That didn't really bother the Sergeant Major, marine units had already been cut and sliced, folded, re-folded, stuck together then rebuilt again; everything was done to make sure the Corps actually had a half decent order of battle at hand at a time when the Federation had been in a long twelve round fight with the Dominion.
But John had to admit the Ark was feeling like a home and he would be sad if everyone had to be re-assigned. Bryant started thinking over the likely hood of that happening. But he was rudely interrupted as someone started getting a little too close to him; John felt the eyes on the back of his neck and on that cue John's fists went limp ready to respond to any instruction his brain deemed fit to give them.
"Hey, John!"
"Bloody hell, Lex, don't they teach you not to sneak up on folks in the academy?"
"Sorry Sergeant Major, my fault. Lex has been showing me around."
"Well, Doc, follow the Ensign's lead. Off duty it's John."
John smiled, as Lt Weathers was obviously knocked sideways by the sudden change from professionalism to friendship. Lex however was an old hand at the personality quick change. Soon the three had found a bar and were sitting down to drinks, Lex raised an eyebrow when she saw the slightest bulge in the middle of John's left thing, just where his belt lay. John just smiled, marines were always ready for anything, and on a ship like the Ark not many would question the MCO carrying a piece while off duty.
"So, er, John what you want to drink?"
"That's a surprise, an officer offering an enlisted a drink!"
"Knock it off, Sarah, the kid's trying…sorry Ell-Tee."
The Chief of the Boat walked round and pulled a chair out, John was smiling at the kid…Chief Medical Officer…partly to put him at ease and party to annoy Master Chief Petty Officer Gibson up but not letting her see his eyes. She sat down and looked Dr Weathers' way.
"I'm sorry, Doc, had a tough day…"
"It's alright, Chief I know I'm the new boy…"
John broke into the sentimental rally between the two.
"But you do deserve the respect due to someone who has got through the academy."
"Careful, John. You aren't chief of the boat and you know how darn stubborn greenies are."
Lex came in and defused what had become a regular argument between the two enlisted; Sarah didn't like John muscling in on her job but the Sergeant Major couldn't help but give advice. Bryant stood down first and nodded his surrender to the group. Sarah leaned in.
"So what are we drinking? Don't worry Doc you can cover the tab."
The group gave Sarah their orders; John asked to be 'surprised'. Dr Weathers leaned back and began to speak with an annoying pleading tone in his voice that got to John.
"I didn't upset the Master Chief did I Sergeant Major? She just seemed a little terse."
"Look, Doc, number one it's John, I'll let you know when it's time to call me Sarge Major. And number two the Master Chief has just had a bad day, bad form to take it out on you though, sir."
USS Ark Royal In standard orbit of Julian Four
Bryant was back in his duty fatigues, he would have liked to have his web vest on, but the Nova wasn't the biggest ship ever built; and so certain personal sacrifices had to be made. John was half way into the bridge as the bridge played a trick on the marine commander and quickly moved around him.
John's body was aware of the electric change in every single atom around him, sound exploded into a maelstrom of angry tones and terrified notes, John's sight however was the only sense he trusted right now to tell him what was going on…it showed his Captain screaming orders…. but Bryant couldn't hear him…but most of all it showed him the bridge bathed in deathly red light, code red, red alert. Bryant suddenly felt hands going under his armpits followed by a quick jerk upward, only a Klingon could pull that off,
"Thanks Exec."
John didn't hear anything back as his ears were still ringing; he looked toward the turbolift that stood silent and empty, its rearward panels now looking like the jagged teeth of a shark about to bite. Bryant made his way through a bridge that was still reverberating with the shock waves of multiple torpedo strikes against the shields.
"…Torpedoes, switch to high orbit."
John had finally got some semblance of hearing back and had caught the back end of Kranne's instructions. They made sense a higher orbit gave them time to dodge what John assumed to be ground launched munitions; they were tricky devils that used the ionosphere to veil their terminal guidance phase. So the first a ship knew of them was when they were on their final dash toward certain suicide.
"Not good, marine."
"Show me Johan."
Bryant gripped the edge of the tactical station as he looked at an upside display of all the tactical activity for the prior 15 minutes. Every sinew in John's body was ready for another strike; they weren't disappointed.
"Torpedoes bearing 023, 045! Launching countermeasures!"
'Won't work' skipped across John's worried and furrowed brow. A gout of blue flame darted from a nearby console proving John right, his knuckles were white as he barely kept his footing. A chorus of screams rose and fell around him as the department heads yelled their status out for everyone else to hear.
John's hands had already tapped in a command that would weave its way down to his boys, sit tight and keep safe. Marines couldn't influence this battle…but they still had to be ready to and able to fight.
But as soon as the devil had dived through the ripped turbolift wall on distributed fear and confusion among the mortal he had vanished, leaving only blackened wall plates and shattered consoles as his signature.
John went back to analysing the data and what he was seeing he couldn't quite believe. Johan saw the look on the marines face and made room for him the right side of the station. Bryant swore he could still feel his brain swimming and he hoped that was affecting his interpretation of the data before him. Soon his head found its equilibrium and John was aware of a lot more people on the bridge the majority of their number being engineers sent up to secure the bridge after the attack.
"Blue on blue."
John whispered the words as if they were an evil ancient spell of immense dark power. The torpedo salvo, a very real event, now seemed fragmented and disassociated from the reality now caught up in conceptual notions of fire that was friendly.
John hardly noticed the scene around him, the screams, the alarms, the claxons; his entire mind was focussed on the nightmare scenario of anyone, regardless of if they were in the Fleet or the Corps. John looked up to see Kranne and Kaga stalking toward him through the debris thrown about the bridge. Kranne looked at him for moment straight in the eyes.
"Conference room now. CTAC bridge is yours, run continuous sensor scans and be ready for evasion; you do not have permission to return fire."
"Very good, Captain, run continuous scans and be ready for evasion, all weapons cold. Aye sir."
