This Was His Ship

Posted on Thursday June 19, 2025 @ 6:54am by Captain Yoralig Gearev
Edited on on Thursday June 19, 2025 @ 9:29pm

719 words; about a 4 minute read

Mission: Episode 1: A New Frontier
Location: USS Vanguard
Timeline: 2424.06.16 1000 Hours

This was his ship. The Vanguard. She was a sight to be held, not many first time captains were able to land a ship such as her. His work as Strategic Operations Director on Starbase 241 helped him gain the confidence of command, giving him such a ship. Being 1.4 kilometer long, meant that she was a force to be reckoned with. A mobile starbase with teeth. To put it lightly. The Tholians started this cold war last year, and they were not relenting. The Federation council was worried that it was going to lead to full scale war, hence why they brought this behemoth out of the shadows.

Yoralig's foot falls fell as he walked through the almost empty corridors. The ship was still docked, and crew was still being assembled. It seemed to be a ghost town. His last check is that there was close to 300 staff on the ship, but with a ship this big, it wasn't a surprise to him that he barely saw anyone. The Coridanite was doing a visual inspection of one of the lower decks, were not many crew were at the moment. They were all on the bridge, engineering, or the flight deck getting everything ready for launch. This was what he liked. Being alone, being the one here and now. Others would soon be joining him, and that would be that.

This was his ship.

Tholians. Those xenophobic beings that wouldn't hold the door for a dying woman were now knocking at the door of the Federation. They chose now, a time of peace, to do it. A time when the Federation felt comfortable to start setting their eyes on the stars again. He had studied their strategies for years now, even before the cold war started. It was now. Strategy could only do so much.

Much like the Borg, they had a hive queen that they had to protect. They had a hive mind, but the individuals still had their own free will. They were hard wired to protect and follow the orders of the queen. Not blindly. Much like how Starfleet ran their ships only... different. Starfleet's way made sense. It always had.

Stopping at a junction, the captain turned right and found himself amongst the Marine training areas. Their gym, classrooms, training holodecks. This is where they would live until they were needed to take out a threat. Yoralig knew they would be needed eventually. It was not an "if" but a "when" as to when the Marines would be needed to protect the Federation and her interests. This ship, his ship, would be part of that vessel.

This was his ship.

The fighter bays crossed his mind. He had yet to inspect them. Seeing the Marine area made his mind wander to that other outer aspect of combat the ship would be engaged in. He made a mental note to check out the fighter bay next. The Tholians would throw everything the had at them, so why not Starfleet?

He had lived in corruption in the early part of his life, that's what drove him to Starfleet. To leave. To escape. He did. His own flesh and blood tried to kill him, but no more. In fact, he hadn't ever returned to Coridan, and he didn't plan too. Why would he? Better things awaited him here. Here is where he belonged now. Family was only a liability.

Leaving the Marine area, he head for the next turbolift. The fighter bay was next. Only two decks above him was the fighter storage, and three the fighter flight deck. It would be a sight to see. From the starbase, before he beamed over, he witness several of them flying in formation to land on the deck. Nothing was wondered about what they were used for. 36 fighters, 24 bombers. A total of 5 squadrons of fighters. A smirk crossed his scaley face. He wanted to take the fight to the Tholians. They just needed to make the first move.

The years of strategic planning, the years of watching them move their ships around the borders, it all came to this. It was time for the war to begin. They just needed to make the first move. It's not a "if" it's a "when".

This was his ship.

It will go where he leads.

 

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