7: NEW ORLEANS IS SINKING

A flurry of activities went on in and around New Psychonia during the following weeks. Ellen picked up an apartment in Silverton, and dropped into the cabin from time to time. I was occasionally shuttling back and forth to the space yards, supervising a rebuild of the Avenger. An entire section of hull was being removed from the aft port cargo bay. Power conduits needed to be rerouted, life support systems altered, internal structure strengthened. A massive set of docking clamps was being installed.

Amek had finished negotiations with the Rim Worlds Confederacy, and the Rim Worlds had two new members. They were the twin planets of New Psychonia and New Moria. The second planet was the new home of the Mek-Tac race, as well as the orbital shipyards. By the end of the new year it would be fully settled. A few patrol ships would be left at Moria, while the tug did the ferrying. The rest of the fleet was here. Even with a small population of just over 1 million, New Moria was granted full membership. The survivors of the Orion's rule were a mere fraction of the nearly 8 Million Mek-Tacs that had inhabited the original Moria, before the Orions came. Moria would be uninhabited in less than 12 months, and the dilithium in storage on New Moria.


The Rim Worlds Confederacy doesn't get involved with a planet's internal politics. The PDF was even left as the in-system police force, answering only to the Ruling Council. The newly acquired fleet was merged into the Rim Worlds Confederate Navy, and put under the command of an inhabitant of New Psychonia. When I stepped aboard the Avenger for it's christening ceremony I was sporting my new fancy white dress uniform.

"Commodore on deck!" The boatswain announced as I was piped in.

The science officer, Commander Ellen greeted me, with a snappy salute. I returned it while we both were trying to keep a straight face. We were trying to keep up appearances for some of the transferees from Calamain. Experienced navy personnel and not my "extended family", they would eventually have to get used to my informalities on the bridge.

"Permission to come aboard." I announced under naval tradition. It wasn't really a question.

"Permission granted, sir," Ellen replied.

"Good to see you again." I gave Ellen a hug, as she has been stuck aboard for the last 6 weeks getting the ship ready. "The Champagne is inbound on a collision course. We should get up to the observation deck."

The current bridge party, Ellen and myself entered the turbo lift together. The only two on the ships new "A-shift" were Ellen and myself. The rest were still hanging around in a rustic log cabin and running around my woods ...

We all waited patiently on the observation deck. Then into view, came ...

A bottle. When the bottle reached the hull it shattered and a foamy liquid spewed everywhere. I announced, "I christen thee the R.C.S. Faraway Quest. In service of the Rim Worlds Navy as of Stardate 13188.5"

The official ceremony over, I got the 'official tour' of my new command. A few changes had occurred since the fighting in the Moria system.

The ship proudly sported its name on the hull and its call number: "R.C.S. Faraway Quest, RNS-9001." It was the first of the '9000' series, as the Rim Worlds navy would call her. It was also the first full 5th generation starship in the Rim Worlds Navy. In fact, our tiny fleet was the first 5th generation fleet! The torpedo armament was unaltered, and she sported the 'hot round magazine' in the roll bar. This was a store of torpedoes pre-loaded with their anti-matter warheads. As long as we had hot rounds, we could double our torpedo's rate of fire. The wing phasers were upgraded from two to four standard shipboard phasers in each wing, instead of the normal two mega-phaser turrets. We still did not have a source of mega-phaser emplacements. In addition to this was the standard heavy cruiser saucer armament of a dozen standard phasers, to bring the total to 20. Her fighting capacity was still topnotch. Set up for a small crew which was 50% Mek-Tacs, we still had enough cargo space to run long duration missions. The addition of a special docking bay made the changes complete. The 7th Sister was docked in the external bay where the port aft cargo bay used to be. I had a 'spare starship' built in as well as a complement of shuttles. The avenger sported two shuttle bays; the first contained a standard compliment of shuttles, pinnaces and boats, while the second had a trio of Thunderbolt class attack fighters. Now I had to wait for my new X.O.

His information preceded him

Name: John J. Gardner

Race: Human

Home Planet: Caractacalla

Physical description: Height 1.7m. Weight...

Brief History: Apparently one of Grand Admiral Halfview's students, John had worked his way up to Captain, but was willing to give up his command for the X.O.'s spot on the 'Quest.

Current Assignment: Captain, R.C.S. Argentine, Mann Class

As soon as everybody was recalled to the space dock we were underway. Our first destination was the shipyards of Calamain itself. We had a special team of engineers onboard, a team tasked with refitting a ship currently under construction. That ship was the Confederate Union, a battleship sized vessel. Her teething pains were many, and she has as of this time never left dry-dock. The engineers were tasked to finally get that ship up and running, and then to refit it to generation 5 standards. Actually my second mission within the Rim Worlds Navy was to bring their standing fleet up to some level of standards, or at least some level of competence. As it stood, the fleet was as varied as a museum crawl.

Ships as old as 3rd generation flew alongside 4th generation ships, which were now considered to be aging vessels. The Federation itself was transitioning to generation six, and the other major powers were following suit. The 5 vessels from New Psychonia were all current generation 5 ships, standard line cruisers. The Rim Worlds Confederacy as well as many minor powers, such as the A.O.F.W., the O.F.M.A., and the rim worlds to name a few, generally were about a half to a full generation behind, as many ships that are in their service are surplus vessels from the major powers.

But the Rim Worlds had been amiss. Besides the Confederate Union, much of their fleet had been the victim of 'benign neglect' in order to save on costs. Thus the fleet was a hodge-podge of vessels spanning a century of innovation, from original versions of Mann class cruisers, to Loknar class light cruisers, and a few more modern patrol vessels thrown in for good measure. That explained why my new X.O. was willing to transfer to the 'Quest as X.O. And why he was delayed. The old ship could only do warp 5.5 flat out. We sent out orders to rendezvous at Calamain.

Thus my second rank within the Rim Worlds Navy: Sky Marshal. There were only a few sky marshals in existence, and my placement was the 'bureau of ships'. With a new shipyard that was self trained on two different nations 5th generation systems, we had the perfect refit system. Now to get that knowledge to the other shipyards, I thought as we sliced through the eternal darkness.


We eventually arrived at Calamain. The 'Quest was not as fast as the 'Sister, topping out at warp 9.5 with a cruising speed of warp 8. That was pretty standard for a gen-5 ship, and the Phantom had a similar speed regime. Much of the civilian traffic, and other ships didn't ply the space lanes at a faster speed than warp 5 or 6. The problem came when the navy ships weren't any faster, as pirates tended to be. I had an appointment with the base commander, Grand Admiral Moyesha Halfview.

In a sense Grand Admiral Halfview epitomized the Rim Worlds Navy. An incident with pirates deprived him of his right side. The artificial replacements solidified his resolve for the Navy, and he changed his name to match that resolve. The 5'9" Admiral before me would normally inspire awe in his men, but little did he know I was over 7 centuries old. I had been dead, twice, so I didn't fear any admiral that this universe could throw my way.

"Grand Admiral," I started with.

"Welcome to Calamain. Your reputation proceeds you," Halfview responded.

"Hopefully only good news," I replied.

"Yes it's good news. Apparently you seem to travel the galaxy and go around rescuing people. I can't think of a better calling for a naval officer..." He responded, finally

"Hey, It's all in a days work. From angels to cats, at least I can sleep with a clear conscience at night," I replied.

"So that's it," Halfview replied. "Were you a villain in your past life?"

"Not really, but I definitely was not cut out to be an assassin." I responded. "Although, at times I feel the need to kick some ass, and take names. If there are people in need, whoever they are, I have an urge to start shooting until the innocent are free. As long as I live, that's one my missions in life. The other half is to explore the unknown. Why did you think I called my ship the "Faraway Quest?"

"I didn't know, but with your reasons, I wish you well," Halfview responded. "Unfortunately, our political system seems to prevent cutting edge improvements to our ships. You have your sky marshals job cut out for you. At least these engineers can fix the Confederate Union, and get her into service."

That was the hope, at least. The Confederate Union was supposed to be the flagship of the Confederate fleet. Supposedly the most powerful ship in the region. When all is said and done, her firepower was actually less than the Faraway Quest's.

That was a problem. But not just with the Confederate Union, but with many of the Rim Worlds ships. An upgrade was desperately needed, and the starting point was the shipyards of New Moria. But the 'disease' of modern-ness needed to spread.

At least the chain of command had realized who I am and what I stood for. That was a small victory, but as usual, that was only a pyrric victory.

But I was only one individual. And Amek would only bankroll so much until there was a detriment to his shipping empire or for New Psychonia.

And no, I couldn't blame him. He had sacrificed as much as I had, if not more, for the cause. Eventually self-preservation had to kick in, and Ameks' cause had to be to his fleet of merchant ships to New Psychonia, since it was his original purpose in life.

That didn't mean Amek wasn't without his means. The main reason I was here was with Amek's generosity, and as an instrument of rescue, I needed the assist. At least I had established a track record. Even though the angel was a one-off, the prisoners of the 'dark tower' and the Mek-Tacs were an entire planetary rescue or two under my belt. And sure as stink in a space suit there were other folks in need of a rescue. It was my calling. But now we needed to rescue the Rim Worlds from itself.


Admiral Halfview had given me his blessing, which I took as the highest praise from the original Rim Worlds hierarchy. It was the people in the trenches, who were doing the good work of making the space lanes secure, who I needed to take care of, as best as I can. They were the folks who were putting themselves in harm's way to make the Rim Worlds secure.

Most of those who did the bulk of the navies work were doing it in the older ships – destroyers and cruisers. The more modern ships were all patrol vessels

But that meant that I needed to leave the Faraway Quest behind. There were a 'pile' of ships, which needed upgrading, and somebody needed to go aboard those ships and catalogue the refits necessary. I selected my team, the Faraway Quest's 'E-team' to assist me. We left the safety of our flagship to join the crews of the oldest ships in the fleet. There was a contingent of engineers, mostly Mek-Tac, who were going to tour the fleet with yours truly.

That meant that we had to travel with the oldest ships of the fleet. But I had an ace-in-the-hole. The Phantom was available, and equipped with a cloaking device. She was our silent escort while we evaluated those older ships of the Rim Worlds' fleet.

The first ship we were boarding was the Baton Rouge class R.C.S. New Orleans. I actually had hope for that ship class. She was one of the main predecessors of the venerable Constitution class, and was top-of-the-line for her day. Her hull had a better layout than the contemporary Valley Forge class of heavy cruiser. Going over the blueprints and specs of the ships we would be visiting, I definitely didn't like the light cruisers the Rim worlds had. The one exception were the half dozen or so of the Loknar class. They were gen-4 and didn't need immediate attention. They also were about a third of the most modern part of the fleet.


We were on the ship's routine patrol route, with our hidden escort. That was a good thing too. I must have pissed off the Orions in this life, as well as in a past life, for they were all over us like a cheap suit. As the R.C.S. New Orleans headed to the planet Zyra, the routine patrol was sure to be interrupted by somebody with ill intent.


The New Orleans rocked from a torpedo hit. The Orion had been equipped with a photon torpedo launcher. Although a smaller ship, the Orion had better maneuverability as well as a tight armament for disabling ships like the New Orleans.

This would be an interesting fight, I thought. Here we have a 3rd generation heavy cruiser facing off against a 5th generation pirate raider the size of a frigate, about a third the tonnage of the 'Orleans. I resisted the urge to say, "Lets get ready to rumble! And in this corner..."

The Orion ship carried two pairs of disruptors, and sports a heavy weapons mount forward, which has been known to be equipped with a variety of weapons, in this case, a fairly good copy of a Federation FP-5 photon torpedo tube. Lucky for us his cloaking device was either first generation or a poor copy of a later model, for now that we knew we were looking for a cloaked ship, she was fairly easy to spot, even with this ships old sensors.

Then our captain ordered the lasers brought up to full power. Lasers? I thought. This ship was stock, straight out of the last century! And as an observer I was only along for the ride. Although I did outrank the captain, unless he did something critically foolish, my job was not to interfere, and neither should the Phantom. Her orders were to de-cloak if we suffered a critical hull breach. That meant that the next few minutes were going to be, for me, a nail-biter.


The fight was becoming dragged out. The 'Orleans couldn't force the engagement, with the much faster Orion, and the newer weapons on that ship gave them a critical range advantage. Despite that, except with landing the occasional torpedo hit, the Orion couldn't close to effective beam weapon distance without crossing into the range of the larger ships guns, and the sheer firepower of the cruiser kept the wolf at bay. Eventually the Orion simply gave up and left. The fight was rather anti-climatic.

We proceeded on our patrol. What else could we do? The New Orleans couldn't chase down the pirate, as she wasn't nearly fast enough, and we couldn't force an engagement from any newer generation of ship. I wasn't going to send the Phantom after her either, not with my seeming ability to attract trouble. There were even some civilian vessels capable of at least warp 9. With the 'Orleans maximum speed of warp 6, she was effectively useless as an anti-piracy vessel.


Zyra was a waypoint for the patrol. The planet was right on the edge of the claimed Rim Worlds territory, so many of the patrol ships made the trip here before turning toward the core of the Confederacy. Many ships did the Caractacalla, Zyra, Lorne route, while others did Calamian, Zyra, Thule. After checking the logs, it seemed only the older cruisers bothered. Ships like the New Orleans or the even older Mann class cruisers bothered with this route. The newer but smaller patrol vessels never bothered. They seemed to be busy zipping about the core worlds chasing after smugglers, and in general accomplishing little. The only modern ship to visit Zyra was the patrol ship that is stationed there. The current one, The R.C.S. Brinks, was a Greer class, and one of the only three gen-5 ships in the fleet before me.

It was a surprise that we picked up a sensor blip in the system. It was sporadic and brief, but I recognized it immediately and stated as much. It was a ship activating its cloaking device. The question was who? I didn't think that Relar had managed to escape the planet I had stranded him on, so I ruled out Romulans in my mind. The bigger question was "was it related to the previous attack, and why was it here?"

"The best way to spring a trap is to walk into it," Captain Becker stated.

"Especially with our silent shadow," I replied. "What's worrying me now is where is the patrol ship that should be on orbital picket duty? The Brinks is missing."

"If that Orion is here, then the Brinks is in trouble." Thomas Becker was starting to become a little worried.

The natives of this planet practice a religion that spanned the centuries called Vastianism. A form of nature worship, all the plant and animal life was sacred, and is venerated. Harvesting crops and killing animals for food is allowed, but done with reverence, and the native Vastians feel bound to the planet, so never leave it. All non-natives are located on an island 800km from the mainland, where the lone spaceport is located. The locals feel that outsiders offend the spirits of the planet. Why would such a group even join the Confederacy? For protection, it seems. Bound to the planet, they wouldn't be able to leave the surface to defend them selves, as they couldn't function in spacecraft due to their phobias. Zyra allows the Confederacy to protect it while allowing a spaceport. Trade is limited, as the Vastians are pretty self-sufficient. Most exports are some minerals, and medical supplies are the main import.


As the ship moved in system, no trace of the picket was detected. As we passed the second planet, the Orions sprung their trap. A familiar cloaking signature was detected before the Orion raider appeared in our path. Then shortly after, two more Orions uncloaked. One was a large blockade-runner the size of a destroyer, and the other was a salvage cruiser, a large cross between a freighter and a warship. It would also sport a destroyer's firepower. I expected 6 to 8 beam disruptors and at least a pair of heavy weapons mounts each. I added it up in my head, and I didn't like the total. We had 8 laser banks and 2 heavy accelerator cannon. They would have at least 18 disruptors and could have as many as 5 photon torpedo launchers. It didn't take long to find out. The salvage cruiser opened up with a trio of pulse disruptors, while the blockade-runner fired a pair of torpedoes.

"Evasive to starboard!" Becker ordered. "Ben, get us out of here!" Captain Thomas Becker did not expect the trap to be this big! After the ship rocked from the blast and damage reports stated to come in, there was a relief as the science officer announced that the Phantom had de-cloaked and planted a full spread into the blockade-runner, before re-cloaking. Both the salvage cruiser and the raider re-cloaked, but the blockade-runner was moving off uncloaked and under reduced power. It looked like it was in worse shape than we were.

And we were in rough shape. Aft and port aft shields were down, and we had major structural damage to the engineering hull. But at least our engines and weapons were up. Then we also got a break. The raider was trying to sneak across our bow under cloak. Little did he know we had spotted his cloak signature and could lock on with our weapons. We fired right at the optimal distance. 5 of our 6 lasers sliced down his starboard aft shields and the first accelerator cannon also hit. Since his shields were busy with the effort of cloaking, they offered no protection against our firepower. Two ships were immediately out of the fight. Whatever the Orions were doing here it apparently wasn't worth dying for. The salvage cruiser de-cloaked well off our port side. Were they going to run for it too? It didn't matter. The Phantom also de-cloaked – she and the salvage cruiser were lying aft to aft. That did not bode well for the Orion. The Phantom fired its aft torpedoes and a salvo of disruptors, just as the Orion spooled his impulse drive to maximum. It was running now with no aft shields and a few scorch marks on its hull.


We found the missing patrol vessel. She was under about half a kilometer of water 40 km from the spaceport. The spaceport was basically blasted back into the Stone Age, apparently from orbit. Not that it was much of a spaceport to begin with. There never is more than one other ship with the patrol craft at any give time so the spaceport consisted of a few warehouses and a small terminal building.

We called in for a rescue and rebuilding fleet. Then the 'Orleans beamed down its medical crew to the devastated spaceport. But I was still not satisfied. The Orions were here to defend something, and since there were only two planets in the system, I was pretty sure it wasn't on Zyra. That left the lone gas giant and its moons. We eventually headed to that planet, the second of only two planets in the Wellum system.

We quickly found the remains of an abandoned mine on the second moon of Wellum II. "It'll be a dilithium mine." I stated.

"And how could you tell that from here?" Thom asked.

"Because there's never that much latinum in one place to make the risk the Orions took pan out. The only thing nearly as valuable is dilithium. It's our version of the spice." A song popped into my head. The spice extends life. The spice expands consciousness. The spice is vital to space travel. Without dilithium, nobody would be able to produce a 4th generation or higher warp drive.

Sure enough I was right. The pirates had been running a clandestine mine right under our noses for over a year, based on the scans. And it turned out that they weren't Orions at all, just a local gang using Orion built ships. The spotty quality of their cloaking device copies meant that it only was a matter of time before they were spotted. Once they were they shot down the patrol ship and started to load up their dilithium. Then the New Orleans showed up unexpectedly. They could outrun us but not hide what they had done. They were definitely not expecting a Romulan light cruiser to be with us. The battle was expected to be one sided in their favor. When the Phantom de-cloaked, the tide immediately shifted out of their favor, and they decided to run for it and cut their losses.

There will have to be a lot of rebuilding. The Phantom tractored the patrol craft off of the bottom of the ocean, and towed it to the remains of the spaceport. A crew had to assess it to see if it was worthwhile to tow it to a shipyard for a refit and repair. While we waited we decided to visit the local government council. Much to their chagrin, we took a shuttle and landed it on the continent right by their village. We were all heavily armed, so they didn't say much about it. We found out that the miners never bothered to contact them. They just shot down the patrol ship, bombed the spaceport, and left. The council was also relieved when we left as well. We were the patrol for Zyra until other ships could be re-assigned.