The Archanis Campaign: USS Orwell.

Lieutenant Jaril Nihl has been assigned the USS Orwell (A Orion Class) as an attachment to the humanatrain efforts of The USS Ahwahnee. As his first command, he holds a silent optimism that his small crew compliment and his vessel will find its place in the make shift fleet. That the trust his superiors have plassed in him, will be well met by his actions.

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  • Starbase 27: 1815 -19:30 Hours.

    Jaril Nihl;Commanding officer of the USS Orwell.. He liked the sound of that! Even if the  illusion was broken the moment the word Runabout followed. Where one to take a closer look into the specifics.

    As he looked over the Diagnostics report; a Padd sitting in his hand as he rested on the table in front, he had to admit the assignment was respectable and he had worked hard to achieve it following his promotion to Lieutenant. A sleek, shiny and sophisticated ship of any size was not to be laughed at. 

    Around him the hum of the Starbase flowed around him. A mixture of languages and smells bustling in every available space as civilians, traders and Starfleet Staff went about their day. It had been a little while since he had his feet on the ground, and in the rush to have the ship ready for the new mission parameters. He was also sure this was the first time he had a chance to rest all day. 

    Which as he took another moment to enjoy his surroundings;followed by the sight of a ferengi trader being reprimanded by security staff. His combadge began to chime and from it came a familiar voice. 

    "Orwell to Lieutenant Nihl." 

    "Go ahead." 

    "They've finished the resupply on the Orwell and a member of the operations team has delivered the mission package." 

    " Fantastic. Have us on standby to depart. I want to make some final systems checks and be up and out the Station before we get underway. " 

    The exact details of the mission had made more complicated by the complexity of the task at hand. So said the Senior staff. The Orwell had been granted the position of a support vessel of a humanitarian convoy  in a scout/intelligence role ahead of the main fleet. While the rest of the mission, its commanding officers, Location and fleet organisations had been left out. He had been waiting for the specifics which had now found themselves onboard the Orwell. 

    Taking the PADD and his coffee from the table, he began to optimistically strole back towards the Flight Decks. Time was getting on. 

    Time was tight. Captain Felrak Vordenna gazed idly at the padd containing the latest progress reports. He ran a hand through the patchy fuzz of keratinoid strands clinging to his scalp.  By all accounts the USS Tulwar was in better shape than she had been five hours ago. Engineering teams from Starbase 27, along with the Ahwahnee’s own Chief Engineer had seen to that. Felrak wasn’t entirely sure he wanted to know how that particular sausage got made, but he trusted his people. If Theb said the Tulwar was ready to go, then she was ready to go.

    Even at full strength, Felrak had his doubts about the convoy’s ability to fend off a direct attack from D’Ghor. Reports had shown mainly older ships in use by the rogue Klingon house, but to defend three Olympic class aid ships would require a large defence net. If D’Ghor sent multiple vessels, weaknesses in the convoy’s flank would be quickly exposed.

    In the Orwell’s cockpit;the crew of three:Captain, Pilot and Operations settle the ship into a silent hum in a safe clearing adjacent to the station. Nihl stood above the Pilots station and watched as Crewman Dol’ak neatly and manually squared away the systems and had her waiting to continue on as planned. With that done, it was his time to shine and he knew exactly how to begin. 

    "Okay let's begin Ensign.. Open up a line of communication with the Ahwahnee. Let's get this equipment warmed up!"

    "Hailing Frequency open sir" 

    "Ahwahnee, this is Lieutenant Jaril Nihl of the USS Orwell." 

    “We read you, Orwell.” A voice from the Ahwahnee’s bridge came in over the comm line, “What can we do for you?”

    "We've been assigned to the humanitarian efforts of your vessel and its Convoy. We are in position over the Starbase, signing in." 

    Felrak overheard the communications officer, and for the first time that day he felt a palpable sense of relief, “Onscreen.” He said, quickly. 

    The Orwell’s occupants blinked onto the main viewer. Felrak smiled, “Lieutenant Nihl, we are extremely pleased to see you. We could use all the help we can get. We’re sending over a tactical readiness report on the convoy’s status. Please stand by.” 

    For a moment things were silent. Nihl prepared his crew for the real orders he had been waiting for all day. The answer to how big this mission really was. Starfleet only kept things quiet when the details were big enough to need explaining. 

    "Valera have this data transferred to a PADD straight away.All incoming data straight to my station." As it flashed across his screen, he knew he was right to ask for it to hand. This was a huge operation. 

    “As you can see, there are some areas in our defence grid that are lacking.” Felrak explained, “I’m sure Starfleet has brought you up to date on the situation with the Hunters of D’Ghor. Their tactics have so far proven… Unsavoury.” He inhaled, “I want us on high alert as soon as we move beyond Starbase 27’s defence perimeter. As I understand it, the Orion class runabouts are equipped with quite the sensor array. Is this right, Lieutenant?”

    The captain was right. The intel suggested that although the Convoy was made up of some of the finest vessels. Its defences in particular against an aggressive force whos full capability was beyond them, had opened up them to some gaps that could prove fatal. If the Orwell was to make a difference he would have to get straight to the point. "

    "Yes Sir. I've read the material, and my hope is that our sensor array at the spire of the convoy will give us even the smallest edge as we advance." He took a breath and continued on, the complexities of the mission rolling off his tongue which he hoped wouldn't add to the Captains worries to much. 

    " That being said, what we make up for in Speed and Intelligence capabilities we lack in firepower. We can move you safely but reduce ourselves to an aft support role to make sure we see it through." 

    “Thank you, Lieutenant, but this time you are needed up front. The Orwell is perfectly equipped to give us the sensor data we need. Tachyon detection should let us detect anything coming through as “too perfect” a vacuum. For something as small as a Bird of Prey, you may not see it until it’s right on top of you. But, Nihl, your orders are not to engage. Should you make contact, you are to regroup with the Ahwahnee and we can mount a defensive action in unison. Is that clear?” Felrak felt sure the Bajoran in front of him understood. 

    Thus in response Nihl simply nodded and continued on with little more than a "Yes sir."

    "If I might suggest Sir? Further to your instructions, the Orwell crew compliment including myself is three. Operations, Engineering, tactical and piloting all handled by us. We can manage but under the scrutiny of Intelligence and support. It might be prudent to coordinate ourselves further. "

    “Coordination is indeed important.” Felrak thought to himself for a moment. If Nihl was going to lead the convoy, he was going to need someone who was familiar with these kind of operations. “My Chief of Flight Control, Lieutenant Althaia Delfino, has experience running metaphasic sweeps protecting refugee ships along the old Romulan Neutral Zone.” Delfino eyed Felrak uncomfortably from her position at the conn, not entirely sure where he was going with this, “I’d like to assign her to the Orwell. It’ll be good for you to have an extra pair of eyes and ears while you’re on point.”

    This is what Jaril had hoped would follow,although he had know way of knowing the specifics. Repositioning himself inside the Orwell’s bridge, he thought for a moment about how this would interplay the mission. The prophets had seen that Starfleet be ready and presenting its best foot forward under the circumstances. At times that meant that crews be expanded and specialists take a larger role in making sure that a situation be met under those pretenses. It had been a lesson that the Bajoran’s themselves had learnt over the decades, and it had always occurred to him that not only did it represent the mission specifically. But the legacy of his homeworld.

    “I’d be honoured to have her join us sir. When she is ready i’ll have my crewman beam her aboard. As for the mission itself sir. How are we moving forward?” Assembling the convoy but was one small part of the mission setup. Getting all three vessels into position and on its mark was another. 

    “Excellent.” Felrak’s voice was a careful monotone as he worked to avoid missing any details during these last minute tweaks to the mission plan, “The Orwell will depart for the Meronia Cluster at 1900 hours, you’ll form the tip of the spear. Maintain a cruising speed of warp eight. At 1930 hours, USS Locksley and USS Forest will depart on the same heading. You are to maintain regular subspace contact every hour on the hour, sharing your sensor readouts. The Ahwahnee then at 2000 hours, shortly followed by medical ships Tranquility, Galen and Fleming. USS Stavanger and Tulwar will give us some headway before forming a rear guard. You have your orders not to engage. Regroup on contact with D’Ghor. Are there any further questions, Lieutenant?” Felrak could almost feel the minutes ticking away until their departure time.

    “No questions Sir. We will make some final checks, and await your Officer. I’ll have the team prepare our mark and slowly begin our move.Anything else sir?”

    “That’s all, Lieutenant Nihl. Delfino will be with you shortly. Good luck to you and your crew.”  The comm link terminated.

    “Guess I better go pack my bags.” Delfino rose, unimpressed, from her station. She straightened her uniform and strode aft towards the turbolift. Felrak permitted the shadow of a smile to cross his face, knowing that she would embrace the challenge. 

    In retrospect , Nihl felt confident in his plans and the mission parameters set out by Felrak. The commands had been well thought out reasoned, and said with the air of command he had come to admire in a Starfleet Commanding officer.Of which he hoped he would one day be,outside of the career building prowess of the Orwel herself.  Ending the call,had put a start to the mission, and as such he began making the commands to get it all underway.

    “Crewman, bring the Orwell about and into transport range. Ensign, watch for their signal and beam the Strap officer across and begin for immediate departure.”He took a quick breath and continued on, moving forward to a console and opening up a new commline.  

    “Orwell to the USS Locksley and USS Forest. Adjust your. Mission parameters to this.1930 departure on our heading.” Seconds later, closing the com link and moving around the ship which despite its small crew was beginning to get busy. 

    At his Station Ensign Valera was moving screen to screen making adjustments and watching the operations. For a few minutes,nothing but the sound of tapping could be heard until eventually and quickly he spoke up. “Captain, we have the signal. Beaming them aboard “               

    With the new officer safely aboard, the Orwell immediately began to execute its current orders. The Ship slipped into impulse movement and scrambled to a safe distance inside the Stations sensor vicinity but beyond the usual traffic.  At 1915, it began sending out subspace messages to the rest of the convoy, coordinating with the Arwahnee as each ship signed off and began their departure preparations. In the time between they took what it’s moments they had to acclimate themselves, settle into their roles with Felark taking a secondary station to monitor the ps in preparation for the convoy to make formation. 

    At 19:30 exactltly, the USS Locksley and Forest made their move creeping from the Starases interior. It was time. As the other runabouts moved, they waited nervously, until Jaril Called out quietly.

    “ The prophets are calling and all we can do is follow. Orwell hail the Ahwahnee.Tell the Captain we have a go.”


    A joint Post between: 

    Rswri234:  Lieutenant Jaril Nihl  & Woozamoogoo: Captain Felrak Vordenna


     

  • rswri234rswri234 Member
    edited March 2021

    Part 2:Departure

    Starbase 27 control came in on an open frequency. Every starship bridge in the convoy bustled with final preparations. Mixed with the noise of weapons readiness reports, accounting of supplies and diagnostic readings, a voice announced, “Confirmed, Orwell. Cleared to depart on your designated heading and engage warp when ready.”

    The Orwell and its crew had been out on the station's edge waiting, the bridge lights flashing as the small crew scuttled about the deck. One hand the call out to the USS Locksley and Forest had put them into an arc beyond the docking bays and with new orders the three ships could begin leading the convoy. While on the other, their sensors were working hard to scope out the sectors ahead before they hit high warp.

    From a standing position Lieutenant Jaril Nihl, watched over it all. He had in the quiet moments read the reports from the admiralty and the Arwahnee, and he had quiet concern over how the mission would play out. Which undeniably it had to since only starfleet stood between the sector and the unconventional brutality of the hunters.

    "Okay, let's keep our guard up. Take us out at Warp 5, let the runabouts catch up and keep our sensors running constantly. I don't want any surprises. When we get clear, punch it to cruising speed. Warp 8."

    He turned to his right and faced the new Lieutenant that had joined them. For all intensive purposes this officer was the missions specialist and in his moments of concern wanted them by his side making suggestions.

    " Something doesn't sit right with me Lieutenant. Any Intel that can help us. Thoughts? Concerns?."

    Having beamed over not long before, Althaia Delfino had dumped her bag by the bunk in the rear compartment. Her indignance at being so hastily transferred from the Ahwahnee quickly dissipated as she inspected the interior of the runabout. It was spartan, not that she had expected much. Nor did she require much in the way of creature comforts. Growing up on Krait colony had that effect on a person. Early settlers, her family had slept in temporary bunks not much bigger than the ones she now stood next to. The unforgiving metal frames would take their toll if for whatever reason one sat up too quickly in the night, even someone as small framed as Althaia. She ran a hand through her straight, shoulder length black hair. The manicured nail of her index finger traced around a spot on her forehead, where more than a few angry bumps and bruises had darkened her skin from its already Mediterranean hue.

    Now she sat racing towards colonies much like her own. No doubt there were many on those worlds, children of settlers, townspeople, who had grown up like her. If they were anything like her parents, they were simply looking for quiet, honest lives. The horrors that had befallen them were enough to make her stomach churn. Her problems, mere bumps in the night, dissolved in the face of senseless depravity and mayhem. It chilled her; the idea that it could have been her, a victim of raining death out of the black of a starless night. She clenched her jaw, glancing sideways at Lieutenant Nihl who sat beside her in the cockpit. If the Bajoran was harbouring similar thoughts, he certainly gave no outward sign of it.

    “Me neither, sir.” A stuffy formality, but necessary, “Some of the reports the Captain briefed us on… If there’s an attack it’s coming out of the blue. If it’s OK with you sir, I’d like to check over the sensor calibrations, might give us an edge when it comes to picking them up long range.”

    “Go ahead, the Orwell is yours and if we can get ahead of these Hunters and put a swift end to their brutality. "

    “Aye, sir.” Althaia’s concentration drifted to sensor efficiency and the metaphasic imaging analysis she planned to apply to the readings.

    Jaril straightened himself up and allowed the crew to get to work. The Orwell was carrying them at great speed towards likely hostility. He needed the ship and his crew at the top of their game. He trusted Delfino's experience and if it helped settle his own fears, then all the better for it. He understood the fear that colonists would be under.

    His family had all been displaced by the Dominion war, and the enclaves that had left their homeworld had scattered across the Federation. While others had found a home, and made permanent settlements or assimilated nicely. His own parents had been lost to the displacement and their psyche had never really recovered. He had been lucky to escape unscathed.

    Felrak watched the operations display as the three small LCARS triangles left the sector. He tapped his com badge, “To all ships, this is Captain Felrak Vordenna. Orwell, Locksley and Forest have entered warp. Our departure for the Meronia Cluster is now imminent. You have all been briefed, and the mission is clear. Now comes the hard part. It’s highly likely we will find ourselves on the receiving end of hostilities from the Hunters of D’Ghor. All intelligence indicates their methods are underhand, their tactics unconventional. As soon as your ship moves beyond Starbase 27 perimeter you are to go to yellow alert. Comm lines will be open at all times. If communication is lost, engagement with D’Ghor will be assumed. USS Galen, USS Tranquility and USS Fleming must reach our destination at all costs, their protection is our priority. Commanders of these vessels are under orders not to deviate under any circumstances from their assigned course. If, for any reason, your ship finds itself separated from the main group, assistance cannot be guaranteed. I wish you all the best, and may the cosmos grant us plain sailing.”

    The resounding chatter on the comm came almost immediately in response to the Captain's orders. Inside and beyond the perimeter of the Starbase roared noticeably to life. Officers rushed from mess lounges and shops to their positions on the various vessels which made up the Convoy. While the vessels already in orbit made quick turnovers of previous assignments, and straight into action.

    Each one checked off with the Ahwahnee as it pulled out of the stock and altered its vector starboard to the rallying point, bursting immediately into warp. All on high alert.

    The USS Orwell picked each one up on its sensor array and configured the Comm lines individually to attune them to the mission. As they came together, to close the gaps weakening their previous position.

    They had been at warp for over an hour, when the proximity alert sounded.

    “Sir, we’ve got another… Looks like a runabout coming in on our heading, forming up with us now.” Althaia was puzzled. No one had told them about any reinforcements, “Should we hail them, sir?”

    Lieutenant Nihl was puzzled also, and in the moment had half expected the proximity alarm to be a sign of immediate trouble. If this was in fact more than there was little cause for concern and it would certainly strengthen the mission.

    "Open up a channel. Scan the vessel and check it and it's Mission against our database…”

    “Registries identify them as USS Bonaventure, sir.” Althaia accessed data from the inter-ship handshake readout. Hailing them now.”

    The Arrow-type runabout USS Bonaventure dropped into position and matched the traveling speed of the rest of the convoy. She was the latest addition to ensure the convoy’s arrival at its destination without infringement from D’Ghor.

    The Bonaventure’s Operation Officer Lieutenant Jorab looked over his shoulder to the Lieutenant, “Sir, we are being hailed by the USS Orwell.”

    “Open it, Mister Jorab. On main viewer,” Tymon ordered

    In his small bridge space; Jaril readied himself for the call which came through moments later.

    "Bonaventure this is Lieutenant Jaril Nihl of the USS Orwell. This is a high priority convoy. Can we help you?"

    If this was reinforcements, then Jaril was unsure why he was not notified. It was important to him and the mission that he was sure and upto date on the particulars.

    The Trill Lieutenant offered Lieutenant Nihil a reassuring smile, “I’m a last minute dispatch to the convoy. I have already reported to Captain Vordenna of the USS Ahwahnee. I assure you, we come in peace.”

    "Glad to hear it", he chuckled. At least somebody will be this deployment he thought. " and glad to have you with us. The Orwell is running sensor point at the spire and will back down when things go south. Recommend you align your sensors to ours and we'll be sitting pretty."

    LIeutenant Wrex took a moment while he looked at the other runabout’s CO. He was growing slightly annoyed as he was already given the details upon the Bonaventure’s arrival from the Ahwahnee’s Captain, “I assure you that all the details you’re supplying have already been provided by Captain Vordenna. If you take a look, we already have our sensors calibrated and are in position with you ahead of the convoy. Bonaventure out.”

    Lieutenant Nihl wasn't sure if it was the fact it was his first command post or not but in the moment he felt spectacularly stupid. One glance at the technical layout confirmed what the Bonaventure's CO had said, and was sure he had quickly embarrassed himself.

    "Well that went well", he said to himself. Turning on his heal and bringing his attention back to his crew.

    "Anyone else care to embarrass themselves before we get running?". He paused for a second and continued. " Alright let's do this.

    It would not be long before the Convoy including the Orwell would be well underway and the mission would bring with it the vast unknown courtesy of the Hunters. For now they simply had to enjoy the calm, and keep their heads above water. Where it belonged.

    A joint post by: rswri234, Anth and Woozamagoo

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