Impressive Landing, Part 1: Round Peg, Square Hole

Posted on Mon Apr 26th, 2021 @ 9:59pm by Lieutenant Frederick Carlow

Mission: Heroes of the Hov'hurgh
Location: IKS Hov’HurgH, Main Flight Deck
Timeline: 2409

Colonel JoH’qIj awoke rested and refreshed that morning. Even though he was awoken several hours early by his HoD and mate. Never one to delay his duties, he began readying himself for another day of work. First checking his Datapad for orders, he found the first item on the list surprising. “Prepare Flight Deck One for incoming docking ship : Defiant class.”

~ Well today is starting off interesting. ~ Dressing quickly, the large Klingon asked the computer a question.
“Computer, what are the outer dimensions of a Defiant class federation starship?”

** Length, One hundred seventy point sixty eight meters; Beam, One hundred thirty four point eleven meters; Height Thirty point one meters; Mass, Three hundred fifty five thousand metric tons ** the computers gruff voice responded.

Already knowing the interior specs of his Docking bays he absently said out loud “Wow, this is going to be a challenge.”
Tapping his Comm he said, “Colonel JoH’qIj to Flight Deck One”

“Aye, Colonel,” came the voice of his third watch commander. “Your orders?”

“Commander we have a tall order ahead of us. Prepare Flight Deck One to receive a Defiant class starship. Split the fighters that are docked there in half and move half to each of the other two decks, make it look good Commander, full parade on each of them. Flight crews on standby full flight readiness. We have important guests arriving shortly, I am on my way.”

As Colonel JoH’qIj stepped out of the turbolift that brought him to the flight decks, he couldn’t help feel a swell of pride. The Hov’HurgH was certainly the finest ship he had ever served on. Looking around him he saw the expanse of three full flight bays. Almost thirty five meters high and plenty wide and long to accommodate a Defiant in each of her three bays. Gunmetal grey interior walls designed to take the impact of a out of control fighter. Launch racks bristled from the ceiling, ~ Half empty already “Good work Commander,” he said to the Klingon approaching him.

“Colonel, this is going to be a tight fit. Will you be taking command early today?” the Commander said as he saluted his commanding officer.

Saluting in response “Aye. You are relieved. Enjoy your extra time off.”

“Gladly Sir.” The Klingon commander responded, relieved he was not the one responsible for fitting a rather large starship into an only slightly larger metal box.

Turning his gaze back to his surroundings the burly Klingon Colonel noticed that the House banners and Klingon Empire banners were being hung alongside Alliance banners on the sides of the bay from massive hooks. Fighters were being arranged in each of the side bays so as to provide a rather spectacular display of technology to the visiting Diplomat and her crew.

Climbing onto a magnetic lift that would carry him to the flight command deck. The Klingon Colonel continued his visual inspection of the hurried order of the flight decks. Tapping his Comm he said, “JoH’qIj to VaQ’taj.”

Hanging upside down in a small crawl space in engineering, and having a verbal argument with a fried out power conduit when the call came from JoH’qIj, VaQ’taj almost dropped the spanner that she was using into the guts of the dilation drive. Slapping her communicator roughly, she growled, “Nuq’neq!?”

“Preparations for dock proceeding on schedule, you didn't happen to ask them to grease down that ship before we try to fit it in here did you?” The jovial Klingon said with a laugh in his voice.

“If their pilot is worth their pay grade, it should not be a problem,” VaQ’taj answered gruffly as she reached for the conduit that was almost beyond her grasp. “If not, your tractor team should be able to compensate. I better not end up with a Defiant class ship embedded in my flight deck,” the red-tressed Colonel grumbled as she finally managed to work the blown out piece of tech out of it’s place.

"That will not happen, my HoD. But if it does, I think that I know someone on the home world that would be able to make a good argument concerning salvage rights, it is a rather nice little ship." JoH’qIj quipped.

There was a short, sarcastic laugh over the comm and VaQ’taj asked, “Do I really need to break out the pain stick?"

JoH’qIj eyes narrowed and he growled softly into the Comm, "That depends on what setting you are planning on using."

“There is only one setting, you know that, loDnal!” The Klingon battle matron said, giving a grunt of laughter as her voice strained with the effort of reaching the spot that she needed to put the new section of conduit into.

"We will have to discuss this later, bangwI' SoH. There is still work to be done here." He said laughing slightly as he tapped his Comm off.

The blue-eyed Klingon entered the flight command deck where he took quick note of the personnel that were hurriedly putting the final touches on the complex calculations that were required to perform the difficult task ahead of them.

Checking his commands station to see the exact progress of his subordinates work, he corrected a few minor errors and started to run over the math in his head while simultaneously starting the computer processing the gravimetric differentials needed to bring the two ships together. By Grethor he hated math. But then again it was part of his chosen field.

Sometimes he wished was still in charge of a group of marines charging an enemy gun emplacement. Instead here he was sitting in a comfortable chair, going over course plots in his mind. Well they say one always wishes for the old days of glory. "If I don't get to kill something soon I might go crazy.." the huge Klingon muttered.

"Did you say something sir?" A ensign asked.

Looking up from his screen his eye glinted slightly when he replied, "Trust me ensign you don't want me to repeat myself." And let out a bark of short laughter.

The ensign grimaced and scurried off to do something more important than toy with the Colonel that had once strangled an enemy to death with his left hand while drinking blood wine with the right. At least that is what the rumor mill said.

JoH'qIj chuckled to himself; a little fear now and then does a crew good. Keeps them on their toes, as his Dahar master used to say. Blinking himself out of his daydream, he stroked his ridges. Standing from his chair he visually inspected Hangar bay one. All clear at last. Time to earn his keep.

"Alright warriors" he said in a booming voice, "time to get to it!” With that simple warning he started shouting commands around the room, as he walked the length of the fighter command deck.

"Activate containment field on hangar door one." His voice echoed down the command center.

"Open hangar bay door on hangar one." Receiving acknowledgement after each command he continued.
"Prepare tractor guidance systems." He tapped his Comm, "HoD, we are ready down here. Awaiting your command."

The red-braided colonel let out a bit of a frustrated grunt and climbed out of the crawl space, “Acknowledged. On my way.” VaQ’taj really had other things to be doing to get her ship functioning normally again and the fact that she couldn’t seem to track down the cause of the problems that were plaguing the dilation drive, was driving her to distraction. But she also knew that the Vulcan admiral was probably her only potential ally at that moment.

“Transporter room Alpha, site to site transport to flight command, authorization VaQ’taj two-three, nine-four,” the Klingon woman barked into her communicator as her command cloak settled onto her shoulders. She knew that she should probably have cleaned up a little bit for the ‘formal’ meeting, but she hadn’t realized that she had pushed it to the limit of the time that she had, so the Vulcan and her entourage were just going to have to deal with it.

“Aye, HoD,” was the simple response that she received as she disappeared in a reddish-gold swirl of light, and reappeared on the small transporter inside the command center for her fighters. “Report!”

"HoD on deck!" JoH'qIj bellowed upon hearing his mate's voice. Simultaneously he rose from his seat and saluted, as did everyone else in the room.

“Get back to work, you lazy be’targ’s,” VaQ’taj barked jovially as she stepped over to join the towering flight commander, "Report!”

"HoD, all calculations and preparations are complete. With your leave I will be overseeing the docking myself. We are ready to receive the Yang upon your command.”

The Hov’HurgH’s HoD glanced at her towering mate and gave him a toothy grin, “Get on with it then. The sooner we get this over with, the better.”

JoH'qIj’s practiced hands slid from button to button on the console in front of him. Opening communications with the Yang. He said, “Yang this is Col. JoH'qIj of the Hov’HurgH. Prepare to cut engines and be guided in by our tractor beams.”

“Aye, Hov’HurgH. Cutting engines now,” came the simple reply, from a calm, even voice.

As the forward momentum of the Yang slowed, JoH'qIj quickly locked the navigational beams onto the locations on the Yang, that were indicated as being the strongest parts of the small starship.

Four green colored fan shaped beams sprang to life at the light touch of his fingers. Each striking the hull of the Yang and seaming to play lightly over the spot they struck. The vessel again began to move forward as JoH'qIj began to manually guide the starcraft into the hull.

Working quickly to keep up with the input needed to keep the seemingly ever growing ship on the right course his fingers flew about the console with practiced ease. ~Well this is a bit tighter than a fighter~ he thought to himself, ~nothing I can’t handle though.~

The nose of the Yang was well within the ship in only moments and the greater bulk of the starship was loaming ever closer. JoH'qIj slowed the speed of the vessel to only a few meters a second and guided the beautiful piece of Starfleet technology slowly into the bay.

“Yang, please extend your landing gear and prepare to be released,” spoke the multitasking Klingon.

“Aye, Hov'HurgH landing gear extending,” replied the Vulcan captain of the USS Yang.

“Don’t worry Feddie,” laughed the giant, jovial Klingon “I won’t scratch her paint.”

Sliding into its place with only a meter to spare between itself and the roof, the starship came to rest gently on the hangar bay deck. The smiling Klingon shut down the tractor beams and allowed himself a prideful “Humph” before turning to his mate and saying. “Landing complete, my HoD.”

“Qapla’! Impressive landing,” VaQ’taj said with an approving nod, not being one of those commanders that was shy about giving credit where it was due with her crew. “Now, to the festivities! JoH’qIj, with me,” she ordered as she moved to the magnetic lift at the back of the command deck.

“Aye, my HoD,” replied the proud Klingon. “Although we are meeting with a Vulcan Ambassador I don’t expect much in the way of a festive mood coming from them.”

The clop of indigo boots on the metallic deck announced as a familiar Orion mercenary fell in at their side. “Appearance” seemed an apt descriptor for his arrival as he stepped seemingly out of nowhere as nonchalantly as if he stood there all along. His black poncho flowed at his back and the hood about his head granted an air of mystery. Peridot green eyes peered from under the hood at VaQ, at her less than diplomatically appropriate messiness, and rolled with sardonic amusement. “Expect the unexpected with this Vulcan,” he warned JoH’qIj. “She plays on assumptions with the skill of a Dahar Master.”

Seemingly nonplussed by the sudden arrival of his adopted Brother, JoH’qIj continued speaking, “So should I expect for her to be as sly as you then?” Turning his head and raising an eyebrow in Tenas’s direction.

“Worse,” the Orion nodded in all seriousness, “She’s Vulcan.”

The smile faded slightly from his icy blue eyes, and JoH’qIj responded, “That's why I’m glad I’m not doing the heavy lifting in these talks.” Nodding to VaQ’taj, he continued, “That is for our HoD to deal with.”

“Heghlu'meH QaQ jajvam(1),” Tenas uttered the famous Klingon saying with a straight face.

TBC
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(1) Today is a good day to die.